The Blue Bar (Blue Mumbai #1)(84)

“She’ll be missed, which is why we will do it on Choti Diwali. No one else knows where I am—I’ve taken leave from work.”

Each year during the Diwali week, the boy held his parties for one. Some wrapped up with a shower of dried rose petals. Most ended in blood.

“Yes. All of it. Ask your men to come prepared.”

Bilal took off his earphones, but the words echoed. He sat with his head in his hands. Later, he walked out of his den. He shouldn’t have returned.

Now that he had, he would trust the boy on principle, and protect him till the end. But not without preparations of his own. He scrolled down his phone to look for Rasool’s number.





CHAPTER SEVENTY-FIVE


ARNAV

Arnav didn’t know so many things—a refined kind of torture, not knowing.

Arnav knew of Shinde’s end, and the sort of desolation he’d witnessed with his parents when Asha committed suicide.

On this Choti Diwali afternoon, he felt as if he stood at the edge of another abyss. The evening ahead might define the rest of his life—a new beginning, or a devastating finale.

That hair sent to Tara was indeed Pia’s. Tara had confirmed it. So they had to assume Pia was in Mumbai. The demands had changed between the first call and the next—from making him back off from the case to demanding that Tara go alone to meet them.

The abductors hadn’t called since last night, nor had Ali’s friend been given charge of Pia. Arnav couldn’t put his finger on what was wrong, but he required a plan and a team in place.

On the chair across from him sat Tukaram, his skin dusty, unshaven, a sight unusual enough that Arnav hadn’t recognized him at first. With Arnav’s broken shoulder, he needed someone to drive him in case of a confrontation with the kidnappers. He could think of no one better than the thin old sub-inspector, the star of dozens of police chases. Tukaram looked stern, different from his usual jovial manner—he’d come straight from Shinde’s funeral.

Naik stood beside Tukaram, looking a little less worn out, but only a little. From downstairs came the gong announcing the start of yet another karate class.

“You have quite the setup here,” Tukaram said.

“Safety in numbers. If either of you opt to back out at any moment, I’ll understand. Why don’t you sit down, too, Naik?” Arnav pointed to the extra chair he’d brought in from Tara’s room.

“You said you have undeniable proof against Commissioner Joshi,” Tukaram said.

Arnav passed them the printouts Nandini had sent. “These are the accounts Senior Inspector Shinde maintained over the years.”

When Arnav had finished explaining the connections between Commissioner Joshi, the don Vijayan, Shetty, and Shinde, both of them looked up from the papers.

“We haven’t found further evidence to implicate Shetty for Neha Chaubey’s murder,” Naik said, “but Joshi sir says that murder was Shetty’s doing, as well as the shoot-out, and your accident. Shetty needs to confess to it. We’ll be arresting him soon.”

“Commissioner Joshi wants to bury Shetty so he himself remains unscathed,” Arnav said, and went on to lay out all the evidence on his board. The murders over the decades, the attempts to cover them up, the sequins, Tara, Pia, the van, the jewelry store screenshots. The pictures of the don, the politician, the Bollywood family including Taneja, the police officers. The conversation Tara witnessed between Taneja and Rehaan Virani, and her suspicions.

Tukaram said, “All of this is circumstantial. Suspicious, but none of it will stand up in court. You’re talking about a mafia don, a senior Mumbai police officer, a Bollywood star, a businessman, and now the Home Minister, in the same breath. These families can afford the most expensive lawyers in India.”

“The Home Minister alone can ask a commissioner for transfers within the department. These documents show a clear conflict of interest, and at the very least, the Anti-Corruption Bureau would investigate.”

For the ACB, a high-ranking police officer with a money trail leading to a don and a Home Minister was cause for concern.

“Shinde also recorded phone calls. I have them copied here.”

“We have a case for corruption against Joshi for sure.” Tukaram leaned back in his chair after he had heard a few calls. “Maybe even Mhatre. In fact, the tall man in this jewelry shop screenshot could easily be Mhatre in disguise. You could make sure by showing pictures to the witnesses.”

“I don’t think Mhatre sir is involved,” Naik said.

The vehemence in Naik’s voice surprised Arnav, though he had to admit he found it hard to imagine Mhatre would get Pia kidnapped. Then again, he hadn’t caught on to Shinde’s double life, either.

Before Arnav could speak, Tukaram challenged Naik, “And why do you think not?”

“Posing for some pictures with Joshi sir and Shinde sir doesn’t make him a culprit.”

“He has the means, the opportunity, and most importantly, motive. He hates women,” Tukaram said.

Tara knocked on the door and entered. She held a laden tray. “I hope everyone likes roti-sabji, because the sensei’s kitchen cooks simple fare.”

Tara had clung to that hank of Pia’s hair for a long while, until Arnav explained she could help by making Tukaram and Naik feel welcome. Arnav had nothing to offer them in return for the favor he would ask.