The Blue Bar (Blue Mumbai #1)(11)

“Ah, that’s the one she was grumbling about. She had a row about it with Rahul. I tune her out half the time.”

“I wanted to speak to Mr. Taneja.”

“What about? Is that why you’re here today?” Rehaan leaned forward. “On official business? What’s he done this time? A woman?”

Arnav hadn’t anticipated the sudden barrage of questions. Before he could answer, Rehaan’s phone buzzed on the table, and he dismissed the call. Arnav didn’t get a peek at the number, but he soon understood who it was. Rehaan glanced up, and Arnav followed his gaze to Kittu. Rehaan waved at her when she gestured for him to join her at her table, and stood up.

“I must go and do her bidding. Is there a number I could call you on, though?”

Arnav passed Rehaan a business card and left. He’d not been able to speak with Taneja, but he now understood a few things about Taneja’s fiancée, and had passed his card to Taneja’s future stepson. With more facts in place, he could confront the businessman. Outside the hotel, back in Mumbai’s cloying, moisture-laden air, he dialed Dr. Meshram to ask him for updates.





CHAPTER TEN


ARNAV

Scramble around the letters of your name, and you’re the demon Ravan, Asha had teased Arnav during their childhood scuffles. He’d definitely worked like a demon for the two days since that afternoon at the Aksa beach. The extra work on Dussehra arrangements on top of his current caseload had kept him on his toes.

The streets had been crowded due to Navratri, the nine days of Hindu celebration and dances that led up to the tenth day of Dussehra. Hindus and Muslims lived cheek by jowl in many parts of Mumbai, but the involvement of political parties raised tensions, and sudden conflagrations emerged during festivals. The Malwani station was located in a “sensitive” coastal area with an 80 percent Muslim population. Militants from international terrorist organizations had previously radicalized local youths.

The constant vigilance on top of his routine duties had taken its toll. At 7:30 p.m., Arnav was ready to pack it in when his phone rang. About to ignore it, he noticed the caller ID and answered.

“Good evening, Dr. Meshram. I called you yesterday, but you didn’t answer.”

“I’m sorry I saw your call too late, but I have an update on the Aksa case now.”

“Yes?”

“We’d discussed exploring other parts of the site. I didn’t find anything at the spot I’d mentioned. On a hunch, I checked at a different location a few feet away.” Dr. Meshram sounded nervous, and paused.

“Dr. Meshram?”

“I found two other bodies. Similar characteristics. No skull on either, no hands or feet. I would have called earlier, but I wanted to be sure. These might be even older.”

Taneja wasn’t going to start construction anytime soon. If they’d discovered three bodies, there could be more. Is that why Taneja himself had rushed to the site?

“Any further details?”

“The first victim was a woman, possibly in her twenties. Height about five feet, four inches, but I can’t be certain because of the missing head and feet. Haven’t been able to do a proper postmortem yet.”

“Do we know how long the bodies have been in the ground? An approximate date of death will help me scan missing persons records.”

“It will take time. My assistant will go to the site tomorrow to collect more soil samples.”

“We’ll keep the place closed for now. Keep me updated.”

After he cut the call, Arnav dialed Naik’s extension and asked her about that old unsolved case file from Dadar Police Station. It would cost him, but it might also bring justice to wronged women. He felt a bleak smile spread across his face. At a world-weary thirty-six years old, few things brought him satisfaction anymore.

Naik entered, file in hand, and Arnav straightened his expression.

“We couldn’t find the case from Dadar, but here’s one from Azad Nagar Police Station, sir. Woman’s body. No hands, head, or feet. Decomposed beyond recognition. Found in a sewer.”

Another woman. Three at Aksa, and the one he remembered at Dadar.

“This case was solved?”

“No, sir,” Naik said. “It wasn’t followed up.”

“How do you mean?”

“That body was found in November 2008, sir. On the morning of the twenty-sixth.”

Twenty-sixth of November. A date Arnav would never forget. Ten Lashkar-e-Tayiba terrorists had docked at Mumbai, hijacked cars including a police van, and struck Mumbai at five locations simultaneously, shooting dead a hundred and forty Indians and twenty-five foreign tourists. The terrorists executed American and British passport holders in two luxury hotels. Fifteen policemen lost their lives. Naik’s husband had lost an arm.

The Azad Nagar station was at the epicenter of the disaster that had brought Mumbai to its knees, but that still didn’t explain why the case wasn’t investigated later.

“Did they make a panchnama?”

“Yes, sir. We have the details here. Inspector Atul Gawde was the investigating officer. The body had no clothes, no head or feet, and was cut up in several places.”

“So when you say no follow-up, what does that mean?”

“Still unsolved, sir. Lack of evidence. They couldn’t identify the body. And Inspector Gawde was transferred out.”