The Blue Bar (Blue Mumbai #1)(88)

The boy’s silences were not friendly, his lips curled in a sneer when he thought no one was watching. Bilal watched all the time, though. He was glad he’d spoken to Rasool.

Rasool’s gunmen arrived with the movers shifting furniture to the boy’s Bandra apartment. The others left, but Rasool’s men stayed back—hiding in Bilal’s room. Five of them, scraggly but polite, drinking tea, biding their time, the sixth acting as Bilal’s assistant.

Bilal couldn’t take his assistant into the workshop without making the boy paranoid, but the crook helped carry the implements out as Bilal placed them in the backyard—knives, saws, drills, spades—not disposing of the items as per the boy’s instructions, but storing them on the property where the boy would never find them. Bilal would serve the boy till the end, but only as the boy deserved.

The day’s chores done, Bilal led in the Item Number, under no illusion about her fate. He had known this irate, evil woman, draped in a blue shimmery saree, for years.

For so long, he’d cleaned up after the fact—in answer to an incoherent call for help from the boy. This was the first he knew of, beforehand, but he didn’t regret it. He had told the boy he would escort her to the living room. No farther. He had left a sturdy wheelchair for the boy to move the Item Number down to his workshop.

Even now, on this evening that could end it all, Bilal would do what he knew best. Hide.





CHAPTER EIGHTY


ARNAV

Arnav watched the tiny dot move on his phone screen. The trackers were innocuous, useful things, bought online. He handed them out to his informers, to be worn when on assignments for him. At least two drug addicts owed their lives to the trackers, leading Arnav to them before they could come to harm, but the devices were not reliable, and tended to stop working if banged about. He hadn’t dared use anything more sophisticated, fearing discovery.

Naik had received Tara’s location and tracked it as well. “Not sure exactly which car or van she’s in, sir.”

Arnav compared notes. Naik was closer to Tara’s vehicle on the highway.

“You follow her. Keep your distance. I’ll head to the other target. They’ve taken Pia to Madh Island.”

He was torn. Logically, the abductors should take both mother and daughter to the same destination if they aimed to hand Pia over to Tara. But the highway didn’t lead to Madh Island.

“Madh Island,” Tukaram said. “I told you it was Mhatre. He has his family home there.”

“It simply isn’t true. I have confirmed information he’s not on Madh Island at the moment,” Naik said over the speaker. “I can’t tell you right now how I know, sir.”

“Where is Mhatre’s bungalow?” Arnav turned to Tukaram. “You said you’ve been there?”

“Close to the Dana Pani beach.”

“Pia is located beyond the Atharva Tech Park.” Arnav pointed at the live location Ali’s contact had sent. “Here, at the edge of the densest portion of the Dharmapala mangroves.”

“Isn’t this near the site of the Versova case, sir?” Naik said.

“It is not far, but it lies across Versova Creek,” Arnav said. “The map shows a building. A bungalow or a farmhouse.”

“Not Mhatre’s. His is on the west side.” Tukaram adjusted his rearview mirror as he stepped on the accelerator. “Dharmapala is on the east side of Madh Island. On the way there, we’ll pass close to Malwani Police Station.”

Under normal circumstances, Arnav could have rallied officers from the Malwani Police Station. They would reach the farmhouse much faster. Whoever had grabbed Tara had at least one or even two men in his car. If Arnav’s suspicion of the abductors’ underworld connections was correct, they would all be armed. And not too shabbily.

Naik was the only armed sub-inspector in the other team. Junior constables didn’t carry guns. The five men with her, two of her constables and three from Tukaram, would only be useful when making arrests. Not before.

Arnav’s phone rang, bringing their conversation to a halt. He placed it on speaker so everyone could hear.

“Saab, I just heard from one of my team that Bhai has sent men to guard someone near Dharmapala.”

Ali’s Bhai. Rasool Mohsin.

“Where, exactly? And how many?”

“Six, saab. Can’t ask questions without making them suspicious.”

Ali was right. If he was found out, he wouldn’t last too long.

“How many men with your friend?”

“Four, I think.” Ali’s voice took on an oddly flat note. “Other than my friend. Saab, for his help I’ll need to pay him five times what he’s getting from the other side.”

“Don’t worry about payment. For him, or you. I need updates.”

Rasool Mohsin had posted six men somewhere in Dharmapala—it could easily be at the location where they held Pia. Four men were with Ali’s friend, guarding Pia, and they had a connection with Vijayan. He had to assume a gang war could break out any moment. Even if half those men packed guns, he and Tukaram would be outnumbered.

“We’ll need more men, sir,” Naik broke in, echoing his thoughts.

“I could make a call,” Tukaram said, “but it would be faster to get men from Malwani Police Station. Even a few senior constables and sub-inspectors would do. We’ll require permission from Mhatre, though.”