The Blue Bar (Blue Mumbai #1)(27)

His phone would ring any minute now. Bilal told himself not to sweat. He’d handled this for a while. Rasool wouldn’t find out.

Rasool had waged a war with Vijayan and lost a huge chunk of his business to the don all of Mumbai knew as Uhnna, but he’d also made Uhnna retreat to Dubai. If he came to know that Vijayan’s men had procured the bodies he buried, well, Bilal could picture a few repercussions. All equally unpleasant. Bilal had tried telling the boy, but the boy wouldn’t listen.

Bilal’s phone rang exactly at 4:00 p.m. He wished all of India would learn punctuality from the mob bosses.

“Thanks for talking to me, Bhai.”

Bilal had a complaint, but after his last exchange with Bhai, he needed to play this carefully.

“You’ve called about the trouble with the package.”

Rasool knew, and hadn’t told him. They all called it a package, as if it were not human. It wasn’t any longer, not after the boy was done with it.

“I wish you had let me know, Bhai. The pandus found three old ones.”

A pandu, or an idiotic policeman. Except that the inspector who discovered the bodies held quite the opposite reputation.

“The old ones must have rotted by now. The new package will tell them nothing. The delivery van was unmarked. No one will find it. Don’t worry.”

Bilal wanted to slap the don till his ears rang. The unwritten contract said never bury them in Mumbai. How could Rasool’s men have buried three bodies that close to one another? With the money Rasool had lapped up, Bilal could have bought an apartment or two in a film star neighborhood.

“The agreement was to make them disappear, Bhai.”

Always be polite; never mention how much you paid, Bilal reminded himself.

“The boys panicked this time.” A hint of dire menace entered his tone. “They are not on my team anymore.”

After a beat or two of silence, Rasool continued, “We’ll do it for free the next time.”

“There won’t be another time.” If the boy messed up again, Bilal wouldn’t hang around to clean it up. He’d taken measures.

“There will be a next time. What about the items my boys sent to you? Are they working?”

Bilal had forked out a huge sum for said items, but Rasool Bhai made it sound like a favor.

Bilal cut the call with more assurances from Bhai. Years ago, Bilal’s contacts at the mosque had put the two in touch. Bhai didn’t know Bilal’s real name and address. Bilal wondered if that was still the case. Would Rasool’s men do what they were paid for—take the fall if they were arrested? They were not the professionals Rasool had led him to believe.

Bilal stood up. If the investigation heated up, he must disappear, no matter what he’d promised, or to whom. He needed a backup plan.





CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO


ARNAV

Despite the days spent mulling over it, Arnav was no closer to a decision on Joshi’s promotion offer.

He needed to speak with his boss, but Mhatre hadn’t returned to his office since that day—he was at a weeklong seminar.

Arnav stared at the board facing him, where he’d scrawled the cases in order.

Cold cases.

N M Joshi Marg Police Station: 2002

Woman’s pelvic structure and the femur. No skull, hands, feet. Unsolved. Investigating officer: retired, untraceable.

Dadar Police Station: 2003

Bones similar to above. Discolored sequins found during soil analysis. Senior Inspector Bendre: died in a traffic accident.

Azad Nagar Station: 2008

Decomposed body, found in a sewer with no hands, head or feet. Investigating officer: Inspector Gawde, transferred to Worli Local Arms Division.

Arnav called Naik. She had left for the day—trouble with the fitting for her husband’s artificial arm.

“Did you find out more on the death of Sub-Inspector Bendre?”

“Traffic accident, sir, but they never caught the culprits. Mhatre sir signed off on the file.”

Arnav paused. So Tukaram had been right.

“No CCTV footage?”

“No cameras on that stretch of road back in 2003, sir. Nor any witnesses that late at night. The road was under repair. No identifiable tire tracks on the gravel. By the time they found his body, he’d been dead many hours.”

“Right, Naik, thanks.”

“I’ve emailed you the details.” Naik paused. “Thank you for the reference, sir.”

“Don’t mention it.”

Arnav cut the call and refreshed his email, tapping his feet as the slow connection tested his patience.

An official reference from Arnav amounted to a free consultation for Naik’s husband—a small thing to do for a good officer. He often wished he could do more. His job references for her husband hadn’t helped as much as the word with the doctor.

Arnav turned back to his board.

The other investigators had disappeared, but he could have a chat with Inspector Gawde.

Arnav checked his computer. He’d given an interview a few days ago for the Versova case. Several newspapers had picked it up. He’d mentioned the connection with Taneja’s site, but not the bodies Meshram discovered, and he’d refrained from even a whisper of the cases at Dadar, Azad Nagar, and N M Joshi Marg. He couldn’t afford to tip off the killer.