The Blue Bar (Blue Mumbai #1)(5)

“Right, sir. I’ll leave the constable here in charge of the scene?”

“For now. We can decide next steps based on Dr. Meshram’s input. Take the jeep back with you.”

Naik nodded and left. If they could connect this cold case to others, he could advocate for them to receive higher priority.

“Interesting.” Dr. Meshram stared at where the assistant had brushed away the soil along the arm.

Arnav craned his neck to figure out what had caught the attention of the pathologist, while trying not to grimace and hold his breath. The putrefying flesh and leathery skin was split at the elbow, from which a bone stuck out. Dr. Meshram was slowly removing soil from where the hand should have been. Instead, there was only a stump at the wrist.

Arnav tamped down the thrill of excitement that being on the right track gave him.

“The bone here doesn’t seem naturally broken at the wrist. Someone used an instrument to sever the hand.”

“What sort of instrument?”

“I’ll need to examine this under better light, and maybe a microscope. You still want to stick your neck out for this case? This is not some fancy western TV show, kya? We don’t even have goddamned basic protective kits.”

“I can’t ask you to work against your boss’s orders. Totally up to you.”

Forensics didn’t answer to the rest of the police force. The police called the technicians, who showed up in a van for a consult, collected evidence and the body for postmortem, and left. They took their time. Arnav could only hope for Dr. Meshram’s natural curiosity and drive to win out, as on previous cases they had worked together.

Dr. Meshram rose. “I know this isn’t what you would like to hear, but we might find more bodies at this site.”

“How do you figure that?”

“Consider the vegetation. If you notice that clump”—he pointed to a thriving shrub to the right of where he stood—“it is far greener than the ones beside it. Sometimes a decomposing body enriches the soil, making the vegetation flourish.”

“Are you sure about this?”

“Not until I remove the topsoil, but I’d suggest digging there. Better make sure there are no more bodies rather than have these people call us again, kya?”

“Excuse me, Inspector.”

Arnav turned at the sound of the manager’s voice.

Beside the lanky Fancy Suit stood a suave man in casual but exquisitely tailored office wear, feigning patience. The sort of man used to bowing and scraping from others.

“Rahul Taneja.” He offered his hand. “Taneja Estate Holdings. I heard about the unfortunate discovery and came to check how I could help. Can we talk?”

Taneja’s smile seemed to invite Arnav into a sleek office instead of across the uneven ground of a damp building site in Malad, where a fetid corpse burdened the sea air. They walked away from the others, and Arnav hoped that the breeze would lift the clammy stench.

Taneja owned more than one private jet and must keep a team of lackeys, an entire law firm, to clear any blocks in the path of Taneja Estate Holdings. Why was the man himself here? And on his own?

“Thank you for coming here, Mr. Taneja. I’ll inform your manager as soon as the investigation is finished.”

“The manager should have mentioned this—we’d like to have some of the foundation in place by Dussehra. You know how these labor forces are—our team will struggle from now until Diwali to get any work done.”

Diwali was the festival of lights, but it was also the festival when most of the labor force stayed home.

“I can understand. The forensic officer says we need to make a thorough examination of this site.”

“What do you mean? More bodies?” Mr. Taneja lost his urbane, relaxed act.

“I can’t say for certain yet.”

“Inspector, this is serious business. If we don’t move fast enough and end up receiving a stay order from the courts, we’ll run into huge losses.”

“This is a murder investigation.”

“My manager tells me that the person has been dead for a while. Surely we can come to an arrangement?”

Arnav let that pass. He’d vowed not to be provoked if he could help it. Mr. Taneja’s “arrangement,” the polished version of the usual chai-pani, involved a briefcase filled with cash that no doubt sat next to an assistant right now in the back seat of his car. Arnav marshaled calm and put on the expression that served him well while conducting interrogations.

“I think you’ll agree that the dead deserve justice.” Arnav paused to clear his throat. “We’d want that for our own dear ones.”

“All that’s fine. You can remove the body—continue your examination in peace. Let us do our job.”

“This site isn’t far from the mangroves, Mr. Taneja. Is that why you’re anticipating a stay order on the construction? Has the State Mangrove Cell been involved?”

Land-grabbing mafia had made inroads into Malad. Political corruption ran rampant, eating into the mangroves every year. This site, a short walk from Aksa beach, could easily be part of such a racket. Arnav resolved to follow up with Naik about the site documentation.

“Inspector . . . ah . . . Rajput, there’s no need to threaten me with the officials from the Mangrove Cell. You’ll find that I have contacts far beyond your reach. Vacate these premises and we won’t have any trouble. Good evening.”