Jai Lal kept standing. I can’t sit now, he said. I just came to tell you: Jeevanbhai Patel has been taken in by the local security people. It happened early this morning — or, rather, very late last night. I don’t know exactly what happened, but I may be able to find out soon. One of their security people, a Pakistani who I know a bit, rang up this morning. He didn’t say very much except that Jeevanbhai had said, during an interrogation, that I might be willing to stand bail for him. Don’t know what gave him that idea, and I don’t know what else he’s said. It could be quite tricky. He wants me to go there as soon as possible. Of course bail doesn’t have anything to do with it; it could hardly be anything bailable. Anyway, I’m going there now to find out. I thought I’d keep you informed, because I think — I’m not sure, but I think — it may have something to do with your friend, the Suspect. Something he said gave me that impression.
Das nodded thoughtfully. So, then, he said, do you think their security knows about the whole thing now?
Jai Lal shrugged: I don’t know. Maybe. I thought of taking you along, but the thing is I know this chap, and he might talk to me a little. He wouldn’t if someone he didn’t know was there, too. Anyway I’ll come back and tell you all about it.
Fine; I’ll wait here.
Jai Lal went to the door and opened it. I’ll be back as soon as I can, he said, and hurried away.
Das sat down to wait. Soon a waiter brought him his breakfast. Das looked at him curiously; he seemed Indian. He was a young man, with sandy skin and very dark hair.
Are you from India? Das asked him in Hindi.
The waiter grinned shyly and scratched his head. Yes, sahb, he said.
From where exactly?
From Sundernagar.
Sundernagar? Where’s that?
The waiter was surprised: You don’t know Sundernagar, sahb? How’s that? It’s a district headquarters. It’s in Himachal, at the foot of the Dhauladhar Range.
Das bit his lip, embarrassed by his ignorance. It must be cold there, he said, up in the mountains.
Arre han sahb, he said. It’s very cold. There’s always snow on the Dhauladhar. All the greatest rivers in the world start there — the Beas, the Suketi. You should see them; they could sweep away a place like this.
Oh? said Das. And where do you live? In the hotel?
No. I and some friends — they’re mechanics, electrical, all from Sundernagar — we share a room.
In the Ras al-Maktoo? Das prompted.
No, sahb. He was quite indignant. Our room’s a long way from that place.
Das was oddly relieved. He called the waiter back as he was going out, and gave him half a dirham.
After finishing his breakfast, he tried to read a magazine, but his feet took him to his bed, and he lay down. Jai Lal would probably take longer than he’d expected, he thought as his eyes closed.
He had hardly shut his eyes, it seemed to him, when a knock woke him. In fact it was almost midday and he had been asleep for more than four hours.
Jai Lal’s clothes were crumpled and there were large dark patches under his armpits. Were you sleeping or what? he said sharply, his urbanity a little frayed, when Jyoti Das opened the door. I’ve been knocking for five minutes.
Sorry, Das said. He almost added ‘sir’.
Why’s this room so dark? Jai Lal said. He went to the window and drew the curtain back. Das flinched from the sudden burst of light, but Jai Lal did not notice. He sank into one of the chairs near the window and wiped his face with his handkerchief.
Das turned the music on again. So? he said. What happened?
Jai Lal pulled a face: God, it’s so hot out there. I was really tired by the end of it. It would take too long to tell you all about it. I’ll just sum up the main points. It appears that they’ve been watching Jeevanbhai Patel for quite a long time now. That’s because he was fairly deeply involved in the old regime. In other words, he was quite close to the old Malik of Ghazira. After this regime came into power, they banned him from going to the Old Fort, where the Malik lives. But apparently Jeevanbhai used to get in there every now and then — how, nobody knew. The security people had some idea of his doings, because they had a source placed quite close to him. But they didn’t know anything concrete. Now very late last night, at about three or four in the morning, they had information from their source that he was on his way there again. The source thought it was something serious this time.
They picked him up near an old disused gate at the back which they hadn’t bothered to guard all these years. He was horribly drunk, and more or less raving (must have been drinking that whisky I gave him). They questioned him a bit last night and again at dawn today. Apparently he raved on and on. They couldn’t make sense of everything he said, but the gist of it was this: a massive procession led by your old friend is going to march out of the Ras tomorrow — sorry, today — in the evening. They might even be armed. They plan to march to the Star. The Star is the building which collapsed and buried your Suspect — you remember? The security people aren’t quite sure why they’re going there; maybe it’s some kind of demonstration. Whatever it is, that alone is a serious business. Demonstrations and processions are as forbidden as forbidden can be here, and have been ever since this regime came into power. But, it seems, Jeevanbhai had even grander plans for them and himself. He had some wild idea of getting the old Malik to take advantage of the demonstration and make a show of force at the same time. Perhaps even …
A coup?
Maybe that’s not the right word, but something like that, I think. You know, he still has a lot of support among some people here. But the whole idea was crazy of course. The Malik’s bedridden and ill. He’d probably have thrown Jeevanbhai out, or handed him to security himself. Jeevanbhai must have been very, very drunk to think of something like that.
Maybe he wasn’t, said Das. I told you — that man was living in a dream. There was no telling what he might do.
Maybe you were right, Jai Lal said.
So what happens now?
Well, they’re very concerned. A demonstration by migrant labourers could be quite dangerous. They’re going to deal with it very firmly.
You mean they’ll go into the Ras al-Maktoo and arrest them?
No, that would take a lot of preparation, and there isn’t enough time now. And, in any case, that place is a labyrinth; half of them would be gone before the security people got within a mile of the place. No; they’re going to wait for them near the Star, and they’re going to take the whole lot in over there.
Oh, said Das. So what happens to our Suspect?
Jai Lal coughed into his fist. Well, he said, I was able to work out an agreement. It’s very lucky I happen to know this chap. They’re willing to take us along as observers. They’ll hand over your Suspect once they’ve got him, and you can take him back. They have no interest in keeping him of course but, still, it’s very generous, you know, because we don’t have an extradition agreement with them. Anyway, be ready at four today. I’ll pick you up.
Jai Lal sat back and lit a cigarette. He said: Personal contacts help, you know. No one can work without contacts. That’s the only talent a good officer needs, I always say.
But won’t you need clearance from your ambassador?
No, not strictly. He doesn’t really have jurisdiction over what I do or don’t do. It’s a matter of courtesy really. But I thought something like this might crop up sooner or later, so only last week I put up a note. HE sent it back marked ‘urge fullest co-operation’ or something like that. So that’s OK.
He looked at Das expectantly. Das inclined his head. That was very far-sighted, he said. Good work. You’ll probably get a promotion for this, Jai. Or at least an increment.