Bihar Diaries Page 12

  I smiled, reflecting on how even criminals are in awe of policemen. Such is the power of the uniform! I also felt a little sad and sincerely wished Horlicks’s son could indeed become a police officer one day. After all, if the opposite had happened, with Dawood Ibrahim becoming a terrorist despite having an extremely honest, ethical policeman for a father, why not this?

  ‘Shut up, you moron! Don’t get carried away by the SP’s sweet talk. I have repeatedly told you to switch off the phone,’ shouted Netaji.

  Horlicks just looked at the phone screen, lost in thought.

  ‘My son, Chintoo, could be a policeman.’

  He wiped the tears from his eyes and tucked his pistol in the back of his trouser band.

  ‘This SP seems to be quite a nice person,’ mused Horlicks.

  19

  ‘Bol Bam’

  2 July 2006

  Vijay’s mobile phone was now switched off. I ran his IMEI number every day, but it was clear that he had not put any other SIM card in his phone. Even Raju and Krishna were clueless. I was getting desperate. Where could Vijay and Horlicks be? Unlike the stock market, where I had bought penny stocks, in the world of crime, I was aiming for the bullseye by going after two blue chips––Vijay and Horlicks. I had to force them out of their hideouts.

  Meanwhile, Horlicks’s romantic conversations had become too excruciating for me to bear. To add to my woes, Reliance Communications had come out with a scheme of free unlimited calls between Reliance numbers. Horlicks and his girlfriend both had Reliance connections and were using this scheme to the utmost. Now their talks, which were full of sexual innuendos, had become seemingly endless. To make matters more difficult for me, Horlicks kept changing his location. He moved frequently between Kolkata, Ranchi and a number of other towns.

  ‘Jaaneman, tum bilkul Katrina Kaif jaisi ho (Dear, you look just like Katrina Kaif),’ cooed Horlicks.

  ‘Who is Katrina Kaif? I have never heard of her,’ said his girlfriend.

  ‘Oh, nayi heroinwa hai (Oh, she is a new heroine). You are as attractive as her!’

  ‘Hai, you are so naughty. Each time a new heroine. Achcha, tell me, when will you come?’

  ‘Not now, jaan. The police are looking for me. Let the dust settle, then we will have our honeymoon.’

  The last few conversations between Horlicks and his bhabhi clearly suggested that Horlicks was in no mood to meet her. I would have to find him, but that was possible only if he stayed in one place.

  I remembered my conversations with Tanu on the telephone at the beginning of our relationship. We would also coo sweet nothings and, after every two sentences, say, ‘Aur kya chal raha hai (What else is going on)?’ to prolong our conversation. It’s a different matter now that we talk more about calling a plumber to fix a leaking pipe.

  We also used to discuss the menu for lunch or dinner over the phone, which even today is ultimately decided by Tanu.

  ‘Suno, what will you have for dinner?’

  ‘Sweetheart, how about some noodles?’

  ‘No, it is not good for health. It is made of maida.’

  ‘Then put some vegetables in it. It will improve the taste.’

  ‘Nahin. I have decided. We will have some karela. Bitter gourd is good for the skin!’

  I don’t know why she bothers to call.

  Even though listening to so many phone calls a day was tiring, I eagerly looked forward to listening to Horlicks and Vijay’s important conversations. But there were some other personal calls that were extremely irritating. My mother had decided that my younger brother had become old enough to get married. She called one day and said, ‘Beta, Nikky ko ab settle ho jaana chahiye (Son, Nikky should get married now). I have included your number in all the matrimonial advertisements and websites like Shaadi.com.’ As a result, prospective in-laws would call constantly to discuss the matter. My ears were already ringing from listening to the gangsters’ calls, and now my mother had compounded my woes. I got several calls from all over the country, which bothered me tremendously. Through the process, I also came to know that Shaadi.com was set up by some of my seniors from IIT Delhi. I cursed them too.

  The people looking for a match for their daughter would often have a host of meddlesome questions. ‘SP Sahib, we would be happy to have an alliance with your family. By the way, where exactly are you posted? What, Shekhpura? Where is it?’ asked one girl’s father.

  ‘Sir, I am a government officer. I am supposed to work in all parts of India.’

  Before I could anything else, he said, ‘But we won’t like our daughter to stay in small places,’ and put the phone down. He did not even give me a chance to say that my brother had an MBA and would work in big cities. And, of course, he didn’t live with me. I also wondered why Tanu had never bothered about my postings to remote areas.

  My only hope now was Shanti Devi, Horlicks’s wife. I had put her number on observation too.

  ‘I am sure Chintoo must be studying hard. Have you started making him read Angrezi newspapers, the Tames of India particularly? He should become an IPS officer. I will see his progress when I come over in a few days.’

  ‘Haan, padhta hai (Yes, he reads the papers). Woh Tames of India wallah bhi,’ replied an irritated Shanti.

  ‘Suno, Bitiya should also concentrate on her studies.’

  ‘Arre, abhi toh teen saal ki hai (Hey, she is just three years old). Should I send her to college?’ taunted Shanti.

  Every second day, Horlicks stressed on the education of his son in his calls. He really wanted his son to become a cop. Though his daughter was very young, he was bothered about her studies as well. I was quite intrigued. I had to find out how Horlicks became a criminal. How could such a family man become a dreaded outlaw? And why was he having an extramarital affair?

  I found out that Shanti’s location had remained the same for quite a few days now. I felt that it was only a matter of time before Horlicks visited his family. She was in Deoghar, a town in Jharkhand famous for the Baidyanath temple. Ironically, a sinner like Horlicks Samrat had chosen a holy town to hide his family.

  Horlicks had no relatives in Deoghar, according to Raju and Krishna. His conversations made it clear that his children were attending school in Deoghar. His family could not have stayed in a hotel for so long. He definitely must have rented a house, which meant Shanti was living somewhere in the heart of a densely populated town. Looking for her and the children would be like finding a needle in a haystack.

  I immediately called Ranjan.

  ‘Come to my house right now. Get Raju and Krishna with you.’

  ‘All of you have to go to Deoghar. Shanti Devi is definitely living in a rented house there.’

  ‘Sir, Deoghar is a holy town. It is very densely populated, teeming with pilgrims. How will we find Shanti?’ asked Ranjan. Raju and Krishna nodded in agreement.

  ‘The Airtel people have told me that Shanti’s mobile phone location has been in the Nandan Pahad area for the past fifteen days. Scout the area in the radius of that cell tower. It will be difficult, but not impossible.’

  Nandan Pahad, where the cell tower was, lay between Deoghar Sadar and the Jasidih railway station.

  Ranjan and company did not look sanguine at my suggestion.

  ‘I know it will take a lot of hard work, but I am hopeful of a positive result. Tell me, do you recognize Shanti Devi?’ I said, trying to make them feel more hopeful.

  ‘Sir, I know Shanti quite well. She fought the MLA elections in my thana area some time ago. Of course, Raju and Krishna also know her.’

  ‘Does she also know all of you?’

  ‘No, sir. Luckily, she doesn’t recognize any of us,’ said Ranjan.

  ‘We will take a few of our boys to help us find her,’ said Raju.

  ‘No, you are not going to involve anyone else. This operation has to be kept a secret,’ I said firmly.

  ‘Right, sir. I will also need a weapon for my personal safety. Horlicks is quite dangerous. Could I keep
my service pistol?’ requested Ranjan.

  ‘No, Ranjan, I can’t allow that.’

  A suspended policeman is not supposed to carry any official weapon––it is against the rules. ‘On paper, you can’t arrest Horlicks as you are under suspension. So you need someone to legalize your operation. I will depute a policeman to go with you. He will make your mission more official, should you require any such help. Any particular person you trust?’ I asked Ranjan.

  ‘Sir, Havaldar Shiv Narayan. He is very loyal to me. He worked under my command in the Kasar police station.’

  ‘Okay, take him along. Just ask him to submit an application for leave to me before he goes with you. Nobody should know that he is working with you.’

  I knew I was taking some big risks, but nothing mattered to me then. I was willing to go to any lengths to nab Vijay and Horlicks.

  Havaldar Shiv Narayan Ram was quite a God-fearing man. It was probably an effect of his name. But I knew he was a brave and loyal soldier of the police department. He was very excited to hear from Ranjan. He submitted his leave application and left for the Kiul railway station. After a few hours, he met Ranjan, Raju and Krishna, who had been waiting for him there. In his bag was a carbine, a light automatic rifle, which he had folded. He was also carrying a hundred rounds of 9 mm ammunition.

  It was the month of Shrawan. Thousands of kanwariyas or devotees walked for almost a hundred kilometres carrying the holy Ganges water in their kanwars. The entire route to Deoghar reverberated with the chants of ‘Bol Bam’.

  Ranjan and everyone else in the Bolero looked at each other and said in unison, ‘Bol Bam!’

  20

  ‘Bagal Mein Hai, Huzoor’

  ‘Chun, the constant buzzing of your phones disturbs the children. I have great difficulty getting them to sleep,’ said Tanu earnestly. I decided to shift out of the bedroom.’ I detested the thought of sleeping on the carpet in the drawing room, alone. A lizard could always crawl over me. Yet, I decided to overcome my fear. I could not afford to miss any call. I shifted to the drawing room and slept on the carpet. It was good for my back too. I kept the mobile phones beside my pillow. I ensured the batteries were fully charged before I slept.

  I had learnt my lesson after redialling Horlicks’s number that day. I stopped using my official mobile phone and started taking Horlicks and Vijay’s calls on other phones bought specially for observation. I also made sure I installed the call recording facility in all the mobile phones. Mobile phones then weren’t as advanced as they are now. My clunky Nokia and Samsung handsets were the most popular phones at the time.

  Soon, I was unable to handle Horlicks’s call traffic. I started calling Ajit every night and giving the phones to him.

  ‘Please listen to all the conversations. I can’t understand many Bhojpuri words; they are Greek to me. Tell me if there is anything relevant for me.’

  Meanwhile, Ranjan and his team checked every nook and corner of the Nandan Pahad area. They did not meet with any success and returned to Shekhpura.

  A few more days passed. I asked Ajit every day if he had heard anything relevant that could help locate Horlicks. Ajit would say nothing and just look down. I was getting increasingly restless.

  ‘Amit, meet Manish. He’s a businessman from Lakhisarai. He will tell us Vijay’s location,’ said Kumar Sir, introducing me to a young man fresh out of college.

  ‘Namaste, sir. It will be my privilege to be associated with you in this noble mission. Vijay is a scourge that has to be wiped off the face of the earth,’ said Manish. I was not particularly impressed by his grand filmi dialogues.

  ‘Why would you help us? Do you have any personal animosity with Vijay?’ I asked him, my eyebrows arched.

  ‘Sir, bas desh ki seva karni hai (Sir, I just want to serve our country),’ Manish replied with folded hands. Sensing my cold response, Kumar Sir glanced at Manish and asked him to come back later with some tangible information.

  ‘Sir, who’s this guy? How will he get us Vijay?’

  ‘Amit, I’ve known Manish for quite some time now. He’s helped us arrest some criminals earlier.’

  ‘What kind of criminals? And what would he gain out of this? Why would he risk his life?’ I said, still suspicious of Manish. I was anyway quite confident about being able to track Vijay and Horlicks using mobile technology.

  ‘Oh, the criminals were petty, not in Vijay’s league. Nevertheless, he helped us. We gave him some money from the SS Fund. And more than that, he likes cultivating relationships with officers. It helps him.’

  I knew that nobody would help us for free. Practically every Tom, Dick and Harry wanted to bond well with government officials, particularly police officers. It increased their social standing, and they could throw their weight around using their ‘connections’.

  ‘Amit, there is no harm in trying Manish out. We’re not going to lose anything.’

  Later we would almost lose our lives for acting on a tip from Manish.

  Tanu was finding it increasingly difficult to feed Aishwarya anything. It seemed she had taken after her father. She avoided everything nutritious and ate anything that was unhealthy. To divert her from the bland taste of cereal and porridge, Tanu started taking Aish to the garden and assembling all my staff around her. So the sweeper, the cook, the washerman and even the rifle-wielding guard would surround Aish and then sing and dance for her. The sweeper would act like a monkey. The cook would dance, gyrating his pelvis in the most risqué manner. This way, Tanu could feed Aish all the nutritious food she wanted while my staff entertained our daughter. Aish took a particular fancy to the ‘super-hit’ Bhojpuri song ‘Tu lagawelu jab lipistic, hilela Arrah district’ sung in the harshest of voices by our sweeper. I was extremely irritated by this, but it seemed to be the only song she would have her meals to. What made me angrier was that she would start crying the moment I would sing Kishore Kumar songs for her. Even an infant did not appreciate my singing talents. This ritual was quite a scene every day. The staff started waiting for Aish’s mealtimes because of the entertainment it brought them as well.

  I was sitting with Kumar Sir, watching a match between Argentina and Uruguay. The football was quite listless––nothing apart from plenty of boring passes.

  Kumar Sir’s phone rang while the match was on.

  ‘Sir, I have found out Vijay’s location. He’s in Lakhisarai district!’ Manish said excitedly. Kumar Sir looked at me with a faint smile. He was always in control of his emotions, his face almost always deadpan. He was the perfect foil for my exuberance. ‘Manish has found the location of our target. I have called him over,’ he said, narrating the conversation to me.

  I was still sceptical. How could he have found the location so easily? We waited for Manish to arrive.

  After an hour, he entered my house, covered in mud and drenched in sweat. The excitement on his face was obvious.

  ‘Namaste, sir. Mooh meetha karaiyega. I deserve a treat after you nab Vijay. Both of you will become heroes of the Bihar Police.’

  ‘Manish, how do you know Vijay’s location?’ I asked him, cutting him short and making no effort to mask my distrust. He looked at me incredulously.

  ‘Sir, I met him today afternoon. I rushed straight from Simri village in Lakhisarai to tell you. Can’t you see my feet, my clothes? I’m covered in mud!’

  He still didn’t make any impression on me. Manish took out his mobile phone and showed me a picture.

  ‘Sir, this is Vijay’s picture. I took it today. Now I hope you are convinced.’

  The picture was unmistakably Vijay’s, but it was a bit too perfect. How could someone take such a clear picture of a wanted fugitive without making him suspicious? Did Vijay pose for Manish? In fact, memory told me that the picture was an old one, perhaps published in the local newspaper, Hindustan, a fortnight ago.

  ‘Draw a map for us. How many people will be required? What kind of arms is Vijay carrying?’ I asked.

  Manish confidently drew a map of
the village, pinpointing the location of Vijay and his gang.

  Kumar Sir gave a wad of notes to Manish, which he eventually accepted happily with a perfunctory, ‘Sir, iski kya zaroorat hai (Sir, you didn’t need to)!’

  I called the sergeant major and directed him to send fifty constables in half an hour.

  ‘Amit, we’ll leave at 9.30 p.m. sharp. I will not brief our men till we reach Simri village in Lakhisarai. Otherwise, our operation details might get leaked. Have a light dinner.’

  I was in a bad mood. Sir was putting too much faith in Manish. But I was still not convinced. ‘Why would Vijay meet you? How did you get access to him so easily?’ I asked Manish. I could see that my questioning was making him quite uncomfortable.

  ‘Sir, mera vishwas kijiye. Bhagwan ka diya sab hai mere paas (Sir, please believe me. I already have everything I could ask for). God has been kind to me. It’s just that I want to help the police as a responsible citizen.’

  He looked at Kumar Sir and continued talking. ‘I posed as an arms supplier to see him. I’ve helped the police nab some other criminals also in the same way. Kumar Sir can vouch for me.’

  Kumar Sir folded the map Manish had drawn and put it in his pocket. Even he was a little doubtful now. I could sense it. He left for the circuit house to get ready. I switched on the TV to watch the next football match, which was getting quite exciting. It was about to be decided by a penalty shoot-out. I knew I would miss the last moments of the match, but perhaps something more thrilling was going to happen that night.

  I took my Austrian-made Glock pistol and loaded nine bullets into the magazine. I put the remaining bullets into the spare magazine. I kissed Tanu and sat in the Tata Sumo. Kumar Sir asked the driver to drive to Lakhisarai. The fifty-odd constables followed us in a minibus and a Tata 407.