The Blue Bar (Blue Mumbai #1)(17)

CHAPTER THIRTEEN


ARNAV

Two days after his visit to Tukaram, Arnav sat at his table at the Malwani Police Station. Having switched off his phone for an hour, he attacked the piled-up paperwork, trying to ignore his growling stomach at dinnertime. When Shinde had dragged him into the police force more than twenty years ago, he hadn’t mentioned that his position might one day involve endless meetings and paperwork.

Arnav’s last shower had been more than twelve hours ago. He was sure he could smell himself right now. Noise from the rest of the station filtered through into the room he occasionally shared with another inspector—raised voices from the lockup area, honking cars, and relentless drumbeats. Dussehra was in progress, and the neighborhood used it as an excuse to set up drums interspersed with raunchy music on loudspeakers so the teens and aunties could dance the dandiya one last time. He glared at the reports to file, applications to sign, and expenses to approve, wishing they’d burn. Sitting at a desk had never made sense to him, not like the karate dojo or the chessboard, where he was able to throw an opponent or be thrown. His father often said, Play chess all you want, but studies will give you a better life. Look at your sister; be like her.

All the studies in the world hadn’t saved Asha. She would have turned forty-three this year. At a knock on his door, Arnav glanced up.

“It is about the Aksa case, sir,” Naik said. “Dr. Meshram tried to call you. After examining the soil from around the three bodies, he’s found a few blue sequins.”

Sequins. The file he’d read with Tukaram mentioned sequins.

“Did you send him the evidence and the details from all the other old cases?”

“Yes, sir. From Dadar, Azad Nagar, N M Joshi Marg. I noticed that sequins were also found in some of those cases, sir.”

His assistant didn’t miss much. She’d also wrangled the files and transferred them to Dr. Meshram within days, not weeks, in a police force hamstrung by procedures. Arnav smiled at her. She carried herself better today, her shoulders thrown back, the shadows under her eyes gone.

“Thank you, Naik, that’s very well done.”

“Thank you, sir.” Naik left, closing the door softly behind her.

Arnav switched on his phone—he didn’t want to miss other calls. It rang a moment after the screen turned on. Shinde. Arnav considered ignoring it, but Shinde would keep calling till he picked up.

“Tell me,” Arnav said. Their usual no-frills greeting.

“Now that you’ve broken my arm, you owe me.”

“You’re joking, right?”

“All because of you, you son of a bitch. The doctor sent me home on bed rest.”

Shinde was at the dojo this morning, not far from Arnav’s home in Andheri. He’d challenged Arnav to a round of sparring, and all throughout, Arnav had seen the disintegrating dead body at Aksa, the delay in the postmortem, the silence from Ali, and his stuck-up boss warning him against investigating Taneja, demanding to know about security arrangements for the Dussehra festivities. His head in a whirl instead of the calm center where karate put it, Arnav had found an opening and come down hard on Shinde’s arm.

“You’re high on painkillers. Go to sleep. You must be glad I saved you the headache of trying to arrest your Rasool Bhai.”

“I might get him yet. That’s why I called. They’ve intercepted a van. A few men dumped a body in a suitcase in the Versova mangroves next to the creek, and ran. I’ll send an inspector to the crime scene right now.”

“So?”

“I want to be there. Rasool’s men may be involved—they’ve been taking hit jobs in Versova. I can call a car because the place is near enough, or ask the inspector to pick me up, but as you said, the painkillers are strong.”

“You don’t wish to make a fool of yourself in front of your inspector.”

“I could also use an extra pair of eyes. You can drive me home later.”

“I’m not a chauffeur,” Arnav said, exaggerating his annoyance.

“You are going off duty now. You’re the reason I’m in bed and not on my way to the scene. A woman, from what I heard—a constable from my team found her.”

Arnav checked his watch: 7:45 p.m. His exhausted mind and body craved a bath, dinner, bed. He ought to refuse.

“All right,” he said instead. Shinde, the cunning fox, had played the right cards. Arnav knew it made no difference—women routinely suffered violence—but he couldn’t refuse to help on a case involving a dead or molested woman. His nightmares wouldn’t let him sleep.

Arnav leaned forward, his hands steady on the motorbike. He’d borrowed it from one of his constables. It was faster to take the five-minute ferry from the Madh jetty and cross over to Versova instead of driving for more than an hour all the way out of Malwani and making a U-turn. The ferry allowed bikes, not cars, across the creek. He’d picked Shinde up from his apartment and now negotiated the path toward the Versova mangroves, the bike bouncing away on unpaved roads.

“You had to get a bike, didn’t you?” Shinde panted. “Why don’t you kill me? You do realize what this ride is doing to my arm?”

“This was quicker. You know you can’t lose time once a body offense is reported. Finally, we’re the ‘Jai and Veeru’ they call us at the station.”