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  I immediately drove to the Chewara police station. I got Horlicks out of the lock-up. He seemed to have recovered from the sustained rounds of interrogations. We continued questioning him for hours, though I knew he would say nothing. But my purpose in questioning Horlicks was different this time.

  So I waited. Finally, after a few hours, I got the call.

  ‘SP, kitna tang karoge mere bhai ko (SP, how much will you trouble him)?’ Vijay said, pleadingly. ‘I won’t spare you. I will come after you and your family,’ he continued, switching now to cursing and threats. Somehow, all the expletives sounded like sweet music to me. I knew that he was badly shaken.

  ‘Vijay, I’m waiting for you. The pleasure will be entirely mine,’ I replied. This time, I avoided any histrionics.

  Just five minutes later, I got a rude shock.

  My phone buzzed again. Vijay was making a call. ‘Arre, Kailash Babu. What the hell are you doing? What kind of SP have you posted in Shekhpura? Humko marwaiyega kya (Do you want to get me killed)?’ said Vijay, livid with anger.

  ‘Arre, hum kya kare (Arre, what can I do)? It was the government’s decision to post this Lodha fellow in Shekhpura. Bahut badmaash hai. He doesn’t listen to anyone. I cannot do anything. And do not call me ever again. You will get me in trouble too.’

  I could not believe my ears. I had just heard Vijay Samrat, the most wanted fugitive, talking to Kailash Samrat, one of the most senior police officers in Bihar!

  I simply did not know how to react. This was blasphemous.

  I called Kumar Sir and told him about the conversation. Uncharacteristically, even he showed a bit of surprise.

  ‘He and Vijay belong to the same community. And remember, Vijay was close to many powerful people just a few months ago. Hota hai. Though extremely rare, these things happen. Every department has some black sheep.’

  ‘Yes, sir.’

  Of course, even if I wanted to nail the senior officer, I had no proper evidence. The call record of the official’s number would have shown Vijay’s call as an incoming one. The officer could very well have claimed that his official number was in the public domain. Any person could call him. And anyway, Vijay’s SIM card had been issued under a fake name. Technically, I simply could not indict Kailash Samrat, just like Netaji.

  First, Rajesh Charan, and now Kailash Samrat. I just could not trust anyone. At all.

  But it seemed like Vijay was not done calling people yet.

  ‘Hum kya kare, sir? What do I do, Netaji? They have Horlicks now. Oh, my brother!’ Vijay sobbed again.

  The dignified, polished voice paused for a moment.

  ‘Vijay Bhai, I had warned you so many times earlier. Just switch off your damn mobile phone.’

  Vijay remained silent and then cut the call. He had kept his mobile phone switched off for the past so many days. Or had he?

  Well, not exactly. As I would later learn, he had got a new phone with a new SIM card. He had been cautious. That is why he did not call me using his new number. That would have been an instant giveaway. He kept pondering for a few minutes. ‘How was Horlicks arrested? What mistake had he made?’ Vijay would probably never know the answer.

  31

  ‘Jai Chamundi Maa’

  ‘How was Horlicks arrested?’ Vijay kept wondering. He was as surprised and shocked as anyone else. Even he had not known Horlicks’s whereabouts since he left Shekhpura.

  Vijay started becoming suspicious of his gang members. A number of rumours were floating around in Shekhpura and Nawada, particularly after the press conference. They were good enough to make Vijay paranoid.

  ‘Did someone betray Horlicks? Could it happen to me again?’

  He had been betrayed once before. A few years ago, he had been arrested because of Pankaj Singh.

  Pankaj had decided that Vijay had to be eliminated. But he was always surrounded by his men. Moreover, if the assassination attempt failed, Pankaj knew Vijay wouldn’t spare him. Pankaj was desperate to get him out of his way. He had been relegated to the background in his own gang. And his own men had no respect for him.

  He wondered how he could get rid of Vijay, and ultimately decided that there was only one way to finish him off––the police.

  So he hatched a plan. ‘Sir, Vijay Samrat is going to visit his rakhail, his mistress, in Nalanda tonight. Yes, sir, it is confirmed. Please note the address,’ said Pankaj in a call to the police station.

  The SHO raided the sleazy hotel around 1 a.m. Vijay gathered his clothes and quietly moved out with the police.

  ‘Wait, let me handcuff him properly. He is too dangerous,’ said the SHO.

  Vijay looked the SHO in the eye and spat.

  ‘Bada Babu, I know who the bastard is who betrayed me. Tell him I will kill him soon.’

  The SHO did not react. He did not know who had made the call, and he did not care. What mattered was that Vijay was finally behind bars.

  With Vijay out of the way, Pankaj tried his best to increase his control over the gang, but he did not have Vijay’s charisma. Soon, his group disintegrated. Vijay’s community did not have any loyalty towards Pankaj. People like Lakha, Laddua and Raushan, some prominent gang members, waited for Vijay to come back. Their wait did not last very long, as Vijay broke out of jail not much later.

  ‘Find that traitor, that bastard. I’ll tear his heart out and drink his blood,’ growled Vijay. He had become even more beastly, more dangerous, after his escape from jail.

  ‘Bhai, mil jaayega (Bhai, we will find him),’ said Lakha.

  Pankaj had been on the run ever since Vijay’s daring escape from Nawada Jail made headlines in Bihar. He knew that Vijay would come looking for him.

  The small ‘nursing home’ of the quack was not very difficult to find. All the gullies of Nawada were plastered with advertisements for the ‘Khandani Hakim’, an expert in ‘men’s problems’.

  Pankaj was inside, hopefully waiting to consult the quack. After all, the quack had promised that Pankaj would regain his ‘manhood’ soon. The quack had managed to procure some rare jadi booti, or herbs, which promised to show instant results.

  Suddenly, someone tapped his shoulder.

  ‘Kaise ho, Pankaj? Bhool gaye? Aao, tumhare gupt rog ka ilaaj karte hain (How are you, Pankaj? Have you forgotten me? Come, let me treat your men’s problem),’ said Vijay, his eyes smiling wickedly.

  A bewildered Pankaj tried to run away but was restrained by the strong arms of Lakha and Raushan.

  ‘Vijay, Vijay Bhai!’ said Pankaj softly, shaking with fear. He remembered the murder of his cousin, Sarveshwar, in the Bhairav Mandir.

  Vijay gestured to Horlicks. Lakha covered Pankaj’s mouth while Horlicks stabbed him deep in the abdomen and twisted the knife. Pankaj’s intestines ruptured instantly and blood spurted out. Vijay caught hold of Pankaj’s janeu, the sacred thread, and started strangulating Pankaj with it.

  ‘Niklo, chalo, kaam ho gaya (Let us go, our work is done),’ said Raushan.

  Vijay looked at Pankaj. He could sense his life flowing out. He kicked him hard in the stomach. Pankaj grunted one last time. His lifeless body lay on the floor. The hakim was so scared, he soiled his dhoti. Vijay laughed wickedly and left the clinic.

  As Vijay reminisced about Pankaj’s murder, he remembered how it had been a satisfying kill.

  But who had dared to betray him now?

  32

  ‘Phone Kyon Nahin Baj Raha Hai?’

  Life in Shekhpura changed suddenly. There was a restless energy in the air that jolted the town out of its stupor. Everybody was waiting for the inevitable––Vijay’s arrest. That was the only thing everyone was talking about everywhere, be it at the barber shop or tea stall.

  It seemed as though the Shekhpura police had been infused with a new energy. The policemen were basking in their glory, their pride visible in their attitude and demeanour. At the same time, Horlicks’s arrest triggered a wave of panic among the ranks of Vijay’s gang. The rats had started to abandon ship even
before it had sunk. Many of them turned themselves in to the police. Petty crime almost vanished from Shekhpura. I could now concentrate all my energies on my target.

  I was sitting in the garden at my home. ‘Sir, Chintamani Sahib has come to meet you,’ said my orderly.

  Chintamani Sahib was a very powerful and influential man in Bihar.

  I wondered why he had come unannounced, that too, to my house. I had seen some officials flatter Chintamani no end. He, of course, enjoyed all the attention.

  I saw Chintamani walking at a brisk pace towards me. He signalled to his bodyguard to stay back. In the garb typical of many politicians, he was wearing a crisp white kurta and pyjama. I was a little embarrassed. I had not had time to even change my shorts and T-shirt.

  ‘Namaste, Chinatamaniji, how are you?’

  Chintamani adjusted his glasses and smiled warmly. I could sense that he was mighty pleased.

  ‘Amitji, bahut badhai (Amitji, congratulations)! I knew that you would arrest Horlicks.’

  ‘Thank you, Chintamaniji.’

  ‘I knew your reputation. It was I who had recommended your name for Shekhpura. You know, there was great resistance. Your own senior was not in favour of you being posted as SP anywhere.’

  I knew he was right, but only partially. I was also posted to Shekhpura so that I could be the fall guy in case things went wrong again.

  I also knew that Vijay was a big thorn in Chintamani’s side. Both belonged to communities that had a history of animosity. Vijay was the messiah of the backward people, whereas Chintamani was the new-age leader of his clan. The disbanding of Vijay’s gang would pave the way to Chintamani’s complete stranglehold of the area. He would then reign unchallenged.

  Chintamani continued, ‘Amitji, if you arrest Vijay, I hope you get a very good post.’

  I immediately snapped back. ‘Chintamaniji, are you trying to entice me? You think I’m doing all this for some kind of prize posting?’

  Chintamani’s smile vanished. He was taken aback by my hostile reaction. No doubt, only a few months ago I had wanted to be in a big district. A relatively big, prestigious and challenging district is a coveted posting for any SP. But this was not the way I wanted it. And now my mindset had changed. I was no longer the old Amit. After my chance encounter with Ram Dular’s nephew, trivial things like postings had stopped mattering to me. I felt like I had to nab Vijay for Ram Dular’s family.

  Chintamani made a hasty retreat. I was happy that I was still capable of showing spunk and was living up to the ethos of the IPS.

  Life at home was blissful. The weather had become quite pleasant because of the imminent rain. Tanu used to take Aishwarya out in the garden and give her a bath in an inflatable water tub. The staff was still singing and dancing around her. Aish loved all the attention. Meanwhile, I gave my attention to her famous namesake by watching her movies between listening to phone calls throughout the day.

  I kept waiting for my phone to ring. Ring it did, but not for what I wanted.

  ‘Hello, I am Richa Chawla calling from Delhi. I am calling in reference to the matrimonial ad you have posted on Shaadi.com.’

  I was exasperated by these calls, yet I had to make polite conversation, lest one of the callers became my sister-in-law in the future.

  ‘How much does your brother earn? See, I have been a finalist of MTV Roadies. I expect a certain standard of living, okay?’

  I thanked Richa and smiled at the prospect of my mother having a contestant of MTV Roadies as her bahu.

  ‘We are sorry. Our daughter spends more than what your brother earns. I don’t think it is an equal match,’ said the father of another girl. I patiently heard all this and managed to get through all these calls.

  But my patience was now giving way to frustration. There was no activity on Vijay’s phone. A few days ago, he had dialled only a couple of people from his original number––SP, Shekhpura, that is, me, Kailash Samrat and Netaji. Now his mobile phone was switched off again. I had to find a way to trace him.

  ‘Tanu, phone kyon nahin baj raha hai (Tanu, why are my phones not ringing)?’ I asked my wife desperately.

  ‘Why did you announce that you’ll arrest Vijay before 15 August? Shekhpura ko azadi! What was the need for such grandiose dialogues?’ chided Tanu.

  ‘It was a deliberate ploy. It’s a game I’m playing with Vijay. I need to break him down psychologically,’ I replied. Now I needed to take the mind games up a notch.

  33

  The ‘Encounter’

  The day after Chintamani’s visit, I called Rajesh Charan to the office. His usual confidence was missing. Charan saluted me nervously.

  ‘Rajesh, I have sent a team of my trusted policemen to arrest Vijay. I am hopeful of hearing the good news any time. Since you are the town officer in-charge, I expect you to see that no law and order problem arises. Keep Vijay’s supporters under control,’ I said, without batting an eyelid.

  Rajesh turned pale and asked me, ‘Sir, who all are in the team?’

  ‘Oh, that’s a secret. Some of your own brave colleagues.’

  Just then, my phone rang.

  ‘Oh, excellent. Super news! Proud of you, my boys! Dump the dead body in the Ganges. All of Vijay’s sins will be washed away.’

  I got up from my chair and raised my arms in jubilation.

  ‘Rajesh, get some sweets. Vijay has been killed. He fired at our boys and we shot him in retaliation.’

  Rajesh was sweating profusely now.

  ‘Sir, badhai ho (Sir, congratulations)!’ he stammered.

  I dismissed him.

  After a few minutes, Ajit entered my chamber and stood at attention.

  ‘Jai Hind, sir,’ he said with a smile.

  ‘Good job! You called my mobile at exactly the right time.’

  ‘Sir, let us hope Rajesh falls into our trap.’

  I looked at him and grinned. I had started enjoying this game of hide-and-seek. It was only a matter of time before he was caught.

  All hell broke loose in Vijay’s gang. Every phone under observation had only one conversation going on––whether Vijay had actually been killed by the police.

  A few months ago, the gang members would have laughed at the mere suggestion of the police even coming close to Vijay. But now they believed that he could be killed in a clash with the police. The fear of the police was palpable. The tide had turned totally in the last few days.

  ‘Sahib ko maar diya kya (Have they killed Sahib)?’

  ‘Has Vijay Bhai been killed in a police encounter?’

  ‘No, no. Someone told me that he escaped.’

  ‘I think he has been badly injured. He got hit by three bullets.’

  ‘I think he is critical. He has lost one eye.’

  Our ploy worked only partially. Though Vijay’s supporters were very jittery, none of them knew anything about Vijay. They were equally in the dark.

  34

  ‘Network Nahin Aa Raha Hai’

  Once I got home, I went over the case again in my mind. Vijay’s mobile phone was switched off. He had not put any new SIM card in his handset. I had even run the IMEI number many times, but got no results. But there was one aspect I hadn’t focused on yet. Vijay knew quite a lot about the way I had interrogated Horlicks. Someone had been telling Vijay all the details.

  Even if he had gone incommunicado, he had to remain in touch with someone. Someone he trusted with his life. Vijay must be desperate to know what was happening in Shekhpura. He must be even more anxious right now as he was cornered and isolated.

  But then, I had not heard any relevant conversation even mentioning him for the last so many days. We were already monitoring the calls of many of his associates. I kept turning these details over in my mind when I realized that we had put only the numbers of his gang members on observation. What if he was talking to some other people, some other supporters who did not have police records?

  Vijay had kept his original number switched off for the last one mont
h, or used it very rarely. After he was warned about the possible tracking of his phone, he must have changed his mobile phone and SIM number, in all probability. But why would his family members, his friends and supporters change their numbers? I realized I should put the numbers of those people on observation. At least a few of them must be using the same numbers.

  I immediately dialled the BSNL office and asked for the call details of Vijay’s original number for the last three months, as I had gone through only tower locations so far.

  In half an hour, the faxes started rolling out. I had kept quite a few extra fax paper rolls. Soon, they were all exhausted. Tanu lay down with the children and put them to sleep.

  Our bedroom was littered with fax papers. I started going through every single call. It was a very tedious process. I went through the call details of March and April, sitting down with a red fluorescent marker. I started circling the numbers Vijay was frequently in touch with, both incoming and outgoing.

  The papers were getting scattered, so I switched off the fan. The voltage was quite low, as always. The AC was taking its own sweet time to cool the room. My little boy, Avi, slept soundly, but baby Aish started throwing tantrums. Her dress was soaked in sweat in just a few minutes. Tanu picked Aish up and started rocking her in her lap.

  After every half an hour, I took a break. As Tanu was still up, we joked and laughed at silly things or reminisced about the beautiful memories of our still young romance. We played with our children and smiled affectionately. I had never felt happier. Here we were, sitting on the floor in our nightclothes, both of us enjoying every moment. This was our world. Nothing else mattered.

  But I had to keep working on the task at hand. After I painstakingly circled countless numbers on the sheets, I categorized them according to the frequency with which they appeared. All of it wasn’t completed that night. It took me almost three days to zero in on about ten numbers that were most frequently in contact with Vijay. Today, an SP’s office has a special cell to monitor all calls and sift through data. We have advanced software to provide answer to any query, any permutation and combination, within minutes, if not seconds.