The Blue Bar (Blue Mumbai #1)(74)

Had Pia taken a bath? She closed her eyes and pictured her smiling little girl, who liked to snack on roasted peanuts, drew henna on Zoya’s hands, and had to be told to turn down the music.

Tara thought she heard a distant ring. Her phone—she’d left it in the room. Cursing, she wrapped a towel around herself and rushed out. By the time she reached it, it had stopped ringing. A call from an unknown number.

She threw on new clothes from the dresser, checked the phone once again, and dialed Zoya. No answer. She was about to drop it on the bed when it rang. Another anonymous call. She put it on speaker and hit the record button.

“Want to see your daughter?” A male voice she did not recognize. A faint southern accent to his Hindi.

“Who is speaking?” Tara said. “Hello, where is Pia?”

“If you want her, you must do as I say.”

Arnav had coached her to ask to speak to Pia first, but Tara’s head went blank. “Yes. Anything.”

“Are you alone?”

“Yes.”

“Get your lover to lay off the case.”

“What case? How is Pia? Can I speak to her?”

“Don’t act smart.” The line went dead.

Tara turned at a noise behind her, startled. Arnav stood at the door, and he had heard it all.





CHAPTER SIXTY-THREE


ARNAV

In his sparse dojo room, Arnav sat with Shinde’s diary—his head spinning. He hadn’t slept much since he’d discharged himself from the hospital. He felt keyed up, raring to go, but his body ached after an entire day of pacing and calls. The painkillers slowed him down. He copied out some of the codes and numbers on his board, and stared at them.

His mind drifted to Tara as he wrote. She’d asked him about the case the kidnappers had mentioned, and he’d told her—blue sequins—making her blame herself all over again for coming to Mumbai, meeting Shetty, not telling him about Pia early enough.

He’d begged the sensei to keep her engaged, so the sensei had recruited her to help at the dojo kitchen.

Arnav resisted the urge to check on her. The kidnappers hadn’t called again since the afternoon, and that had put them both on edge.

Logically, whoever had blocked the earlier investigations was behind this—and wanted him off the Aksa and Versova cases. The suspect behind the serial murders, Tara’s mysterious client, had attempted to get him transferred, then killed, and now had taken his daughter.

Conclusion: that person knew about him, Tara, and Pia. That couldn’t be Taneja. Only Shetty had that information, had mentioned it to Tara. Arnav had sent the words Pokam, Manu, pokam to a Malayali constable on his staff. The words meant “Let’s go,” and Manu was possibly a name. Vijayan was famous for using men exclusively from his community. There were no non-Malayalis on his payroll.

Arnav had asked Naik to stop by, keeping his voice casual. He couldn’t go to the office or log in from his devices to investigate Pia’s kidnapping, not while on leave, given the sticky situation with Mhatre and Joshi. Tukaram couldn’t handle the database very well, which left Naik.

He was hoping Naik would show up now, before Tara returned to her room. He had covered the picture-covered board with a sheet of paper so as not to alert Naik before he had a chance to speak to her. A knock on the door made him turn.

“Good evening, sir.” Naik looked quite rested despite all the stress at work. Arnav was sure he appeared as run-down as he felt in his casual clothes. Arnav dragged in a chair for her from the corridor, but she didn’t sit. Greetings done, she was her usual brisk self.

“The shooter has finally begun to speak, sir. He said he came from his village two weeks ago and trained to use a gun for a week. If he had succeeded, he would have been paid one lakh rupees.”

“Did he say who the target was?”

“You, sir. Between him and his friend who died, they were to receive two lakhs.”

“Who ordered the hit?”

“The suspect has named history-sheeters, sir. No luck flushing them out so far.”

History-sheeters. Those with long criminal records, who had spent a lot of time in jail. How safe was Tara at the dojo if hit men came after her? Good thing the rooms featured single, high windows, with sturdy metal grilles.

“Keep pushing. Anything else we’ve missed?”

“We’ve tailed Shetty. He has met with a man with past connections to Vijayan.”

“Stay on that tail. And continue with the shooter’s interrogation.”

Arnav scribbled in his notebook. Shinde told Shetty about Neha Chaubey’s body being identified, and if Shetty was connected to Vijayan, was Vijayan the don who arranged the supari, the target painted on Arnav’s back?

“Yes, sir,” Naik said. “Please be careful.”

Arnav detected a strange note in Naik’s voice. She seemed distressed. Not like an assistant anxious about her boss or a case, or even a grateful colleague who owed a favor.

Shinde used to tease him about her carrying a torch for him. Have you noticed how she looks at you? As if the sun rises and sets from your ass. Arnav dismissed it. Shinde’s outlook on women was not worth dwelling upon—he must stop letting his friend’s voice echo in his ears.

“Thank you, Naik.”

“I heard you have the witness with you here. Should I interview Tara?”