He then grabbed the hand in which MGT was holding the letter opener and simultaneously kicked MGT on the left side of his torso. It caused MGT to turn ever so slightly, just enough for Santosh to twist his arm behind his back. Santosh applied pressure until MGT yelled in agony and the letter opener clattered noisily to the floor.
“I give up,” said MGT in pain, and Santosh let go of his arm. It wasn’t a good idea. MGT swung around and planted an uppercut on his chin.
Santosh crumpled to the ground as MGT ran out the door.
Chapter 90
Sharma adjusted his belt, feeling exceedingly pleased with himself. His interrogation of Thakkar had gone very well indeed; the head of ResQ had given up the goods without Sharma needing to resort to some of the more tried and tested methods to be found in the Red Fort.
He sucked his teeth distastefully. No doubt Thakkar imagined he was somehow immune from prosecution. Perhaps he thought Jaswal would put in a call and get him off the hook. It didn’t really matter now. Sharma had the names he needed. All the information he required was his.
Installed in his office, he maneuvered himself behind his desk and dropped to his chair with a corpulent grunt. This was why he was the Police Commissioner, he reflected. Crisis management. That was what it was all about. Firefighting. Turning an awkward situation to your advantage.
He reached for the phone and dialed.
“Hello, Guha?” he said.
“Commissioner. What can I do for you?”
“Well, I have something for you. Some more information regarding our little band of medical buccaneers. But first, how are the preparations for your story going?”
Guha sighed. “Not especially well, truth be told.”
“Oh, really? What’s the holdup?”
“A group calling themselves the Coalition for Freedom of Speech have applied for an injunction. Somehow they got wind of our story and want to stop it.”
Sharma gave a low, throaty chuckle. “Such are the daily hurdles faced by a pioneering broadcaster such as yourself, Guha.”
“It’s serious. If the judge agrees with this coalition then my producer won’t allow me to show the story.”
“And the hearing is imminent, is it?”
“Very.”
“Well, I suppose this means you won’t want to hear what else I have to tell you then,” said Sharma airily.
“Will it strengthen my case with the judge?”
“That’s for you to decide.”
And Sharma gave Guha the final details, straight from Thakkar’s guts and poured into the journalist’s ear.
When he had finished he relaxed into his seat, allowing himself a smile. “And that’s it,” he concluded. “Let me know how you get on with the judge and give me advance warning when you plan to broadcast. I intend to time my sensational arrests accordingly. I trust DETV will be there to record the historic events?”
“First things first, Commissioner.”
Chapter 91
Shortly after his conversation with Guha, Sharma’s phone rang again. This time it was Chopra, asking if he could pay him a visit, hinting that cigars and whisky would be on offer. And after a hard afternoon spent interrogating Thakkar and schmoozing Guha, that sounded a very attractive offer indeed.
Sharma informed Nanda he’d been summoned and took a car to the Lieutenant Governor’s opulent residence. There he was greeted by a housekeeper and led to the familiar study, where Chopra stood, indicating for him to settle into the same leather armchair in which he had spent so many happy hours.
He sat down. But Chopra remained standing, the welcome not as warm as usual, the atmosphere markedly less convivial.
“I have good news,” said Sharma, feeling uneasy but trying to behave as though nothing was amiss. “I have put into place a plan that will soon make life decidedly uncomfortable for our friend Jaswal.”
Chopra’s hands went to his hips. Big man though he was, Sharma was sitting and he felt small as the Lieutenant Governor towered over him. His eyes were fierce. His lips pursed. And when he spoke he roared: “I don’t give a fuck about Jaswal!”
“But—” spluttered Sharma.
“No, you moron!” boomed Chopra. “This has gone beyond trying to score political points! You think I wanted to become Lieutenant Governor in order to watch Delhi tearing itself apart with gossip, suspicion, and innuendo? What point is there in wresting power from Jaswal if it is to rule over the smoking rubble of a riot-torn city? This has gone too far, Sharma.” He pointed an accusing finger. “You have let this go too far. We have bodies piling up. Some kind of sick freak skinning his victims, for God’s sake! We’ve practically got marchers on the streets. The newspapers are demanding answers; DETV is on the phone night and day asking all kinds of questions to which I don’t have the answers: who is behind the killings? Why are we not releasing details? Is our ruling body riddled with corruption and pedophiles? You’ve been fiddling while Rome burns, Sharma. And now I want you to put away the fiddle. And get something done. I want you to put a stop to this! Is that clear?”
“Yes,” gulped Sharma. “Yes, sir, that’s clear.”
Chapter 92
Santosh had not waited to be discharged from the hospital. He was well recovered, although the encounter with MGT had left him slightly unnerved. He hadn’t wanted to have a nurse bandage the gash on his forearm so he’d helped himself to antiseptic and bandages from the supply closet he had passed. He’d then gone back to his room, changed out of the hospital clothes, and walked out through the service entrance a little after midnight. He had spent the night on Neel’s couch.
In the morning, Jack and Nisha had come over and the four of them had dropped in for breakfast at a cafe in Khan Market.
Santosh was exceptionally fidgety without his walking stick.
“You don’t need it anymore,” Jack told him.
But Santosh was convinced he did. “It is my only constant companion,” he said. “It saved my life at the Tower of Silence in Mumbai. Moreover, it helps me think.”
“Well, at least you have a new phone now,” said Nisha. She had picked up a replacement unit after getting the old SIM deactivated and a new SIM initialized.
“Thanks,” mumbled Santosh.
“The little run-in you had with MGT,” began Jack. “Could he be mentally disturbed? Killing people while saving others?”
“Unlikely,” said Santosh. “I could have caught him had I not trusted him in that final instant. I guess there was a part of me that felt guilty for his situation... I felt guilty.”
“Why?” asked Jack.
“We treated him rather shabbily in college,” admitted Santosh. “He was an outlier. Almost an outcast. A—”
“I have tracked down the registration number of his car,” interjected Neel. “Passed it on to Ash. He’ll get the cops to find him.”
“I’m convinced they’re all in it together,” said Santosh.
“Who?” asked Jack.
“Patel and Thakkar. One man’s company gets lucrative contracts to modernize hospitals. The other one drives American patients to the newly modernized hospitals and makes a killing on the insurance,” said Santosh. “I call it having one’s cake and eating it too.”
“But Kumar was supposedly the partner of Patel,” said Nisha. “In fact, my friend at the Indian Times says that Patel had promised Kumar extra equity for his help in managing the regulatory environment and that this extra stock was to come out of Patel’s own shareholding.”