Doosra (35 page)

'Maybe he knows another route that we missed. Should be do another recce?' Jatin suggested.

'I guess so. Let's do it on foot. Maybe there's a foot passage that we overlooked.'

'Good idea.'

They walked the length of the road till the turn. Handlebar would have seen if the car had stopped before the turn. He would have certainly reported that Honey Singh got out if he had viewed that. The first left turn that could take anyone back was the entrance of the building with the café, there wasn't any other route.

As they stood in the parking lot of the building with the café, it struck Jatin first.

'With so many cars still in this complex it must have taken you a while to find an empty parking slot first?' he queried.

Nene clutched on immediately. 'And Kitty Varghese, on the other hand, would have dropped Honey Singh at the gate and rushed off so...in case Handlebar had driven out behind them he would have chased the car not knowing that his target was no longer in the vehicle…'

'And Honey Singh would have jogged through this crowd, which would be quicker than you driving into this place to begin with and then the time it took for you to park.'

'Gotcha.' Nene gave a two finger mock salute. He had missed that the additional time he took to get to the front of Honey Singh's building was the time he had taken to drive into the café and find a parking slot. Those unassuming four/five minutes probably made up the crucial difference between Honey Singh's charmed manoeuvre and Nene's re-run.

'Let's do another run.'

'I'll drive this time. I'll drop you by the gate and then take a U turn and go to the tea stall, then time you again.'

'Done.'

This time they achieved the manoeuvre in ten minutes.

'Should we call ma'am or just email?' He glanced at his watch: 11:04.

'I'd say just email at this hour. Anyway, this isn't any discovery, this is only a validation of her own conjecture. If this run was to override or negate her promise then I'd have certainly called. I mean we only know what we already knew, right?'

'I guess so. I'll email her.'

The guys walked back to their parked cars talking.

'Good night. See you tomorrow then.'

'Good night.'

Nene shot off immediately. He was a married man with family and it was late. Jatin sat there scrolling his phone for the photographs he had taken of Nene in the last hour and smiled. Honey Singh was quite an item playing a double role when there wasn't a lookalike. He wondered how Honey and/or Kitty had creatively imagined the whole thing in the first place. And why?

He started his motor and drove slowly to the end of the road.

Ever noticed that once you come across a new word it suddenly appears in all the prose you read? Everywhere? It isn't that the word has been included in the Oxford dictionary only after you encountered it. It's just that you're more conscious of it. It's the same with everything else. If someone points out something new, good or bad you end up spotting it more. It wasn't that there was a sudden flood of reckless motorcyclists in Mumbai. But after Rita had pointed out one reckless rider Jatin had noticed that it was some kind of an epidemic on the streets. Engrossed in his wonderment, he totally missed a motorbike coming from his right. Then he realised he wasn't the only one. What was it with the motorcyclists in this city? Brakes screeched. Almost twenty drivers blew their horns simultaneously, even at this hour. Expletives were shot from open windows and even from shut ones. The motorcyclist didn't care, just sped past. He could have hit something, died or killed someone but he didn't stop, he just didn't care. Though Jatin couldn't take down the registration details as it was dark and it was the wrong angle for spotting the plate, but he could see that the colour of the machine was green, and not the red one he had seen when he was with Rita. And he had also received the task of finding who it was and asking the local police station to pay them a courtesy visit and some sincere advice on riding. Shit! He was late on the assignment. Today. Definitely!

He knew Rita Ferreira never forgot anything; it might have slipped in her priorities due to the urgency of the current Ron Jogani murder case. He made a mental note to pull up the vehicle registration database to search for the number he had noted previously. A letter should actually be sent to local police stations to impose a fine on such rashness. This was beginning to become a menace. With that in mind he drove off too.

***

Rita's Blackberry pinged at 11:24.

Yes, her guys had done the same circuit in almost the same time that Handlebar had recorded. However, it was still an assumption and assumptions cannot be validated or proven or even taken to court. The trouble was, how do you prove a negative? How can you prove that Honey Singh had no lookalike in the world till you had seen and eliminated the entire world's population? You could prove a double if you saw one, not disprove if you couldn't see one.

Rita had inherited her light sleeping habit from her father. He never slept soundly and never more than six hours a night. Books and music filled up all his spare moments. He had told her of the “day the music died”, how McLean had immortalised his idol Buddy Holly on that February day in 1959. He had, in fact, given his interpretation of the entire American Pie and how Don had covered Dylan, Elvis, The Beatles, Lennon, The Rolling Stones, Leonard Cohen…

But all that was before alcohol over shadowed everything else. Addiction, he never admitted to. Talking of inheritance, he had bequeathed his music collection to his only child too. All on vinyl. Pristine. And Rita had always cherished that far more than the land and property her parents had left behind. Enough that if she didn't want to work ever again, she could live on rental income alone. However, her work now was what she lived for, especially when she was in the middle of an investigation like this, not the boring bureaucracy.

She was up, bored, sipping Jim, missing Ash.
He must still be in the skies,
she thought.

Before calling it a night she emailed the team calling for an emergency meeting early morning at nine.

***

'Tickets booked for the day after...' Honey Singh was on the phone again. He was in his bedroom but he spoke in undertones like he was concerned someone would overhear him.

There was a crackle on the other side.

'Yes Wednesday evening. I have your passport and all the relevant papers... no, just a small bag, please.'

Another crackle. Another question.

'We fly from Delhi to London, then to Miami and then to our heaven... yes, that's the best route, there is no direct flight. Our flight is early morning, so get to the airport like I told you. Yes, I know it's very early but trust me. The earlier we get there, the better.'

The person on the other side asked something more.

'Take as circuitous a route as possible. Change cabs if you have to. We can't fail now.'

T
he entire circus had been incredibly well planned. Rita's brain was clouded: it wouldn't be the first time some criminal got away. Police files around the world are full of cold cases. Unsolved crimes.

There was no duplicate Honey Singh. Nene's next set of informers had found the only Honey Singh they already knew about. Take it to a court of law and say:
“there is another one but we can't find him”,
and the case is over. That is, if it can even be filed in the first place.

Veer Singh's death could conjecturally be linked to Honey Singh and, perhaps, Kitty Varghese. No evidence there either.

Rita and team were confident it was Honey Singh. Kitty could be an accomplice, but they weren't certain.

'I cannot fathom how one person could fly into another country and manage a burglary in that manner all by himself... we thought there were two Honey Singhs, which, unbelievable as it was, offered some credibility to our theory.' Rita couldn't come up with any reasonable explanation.

'It has to be Kitty,' Vikram said.

'My gut feel tells me that too, but we know she was in Köln. And we also know she was never out of sight of someone in the group for more than an hour or so. How could she have made it to Brussels and back without being missed?'

'Let's me get Honey Singh in a lock-up ma'am and I'll get him to speak,' Nene offered.

Jatin smiled. He knew that given the opportunity, Nene was more than capable of making Honey Singh talk. He also recognised Rita wouldn't permit any of those old police tactics.

'Let' go and talk to him once more.' Rita stood up. She had no more patience. 'Who's coming?'

Nene and Vikram stood up.

'I think Nene should come with me, this time. A fresh pair of eyes.'

***

Rita and Nene stormed into Honey Singh's office like on the previous occasion. No calling ahead, no notice. The little receptionist guy sat there, but he didn't as much as make the effort of asking who they were, what they wanted or check if his boss had time to see them.

'Good morning, Mr Singh.' Rita opened Honey Singh's office door and entered, followed by Nene.

'You, again?' He sounded irritated.

'Do we stink?' Nene asked impolitely.

'I didn't say that—'

'What is the problem in seeing us again then?'

'Look, I didn't mean to be disrespectful, it was just something uttered.' Honey Singh's countenance shouted that he comprehended this meeting wasn't going to another soft-spoken one. The body, the posture was confident; his eyes were nervous. 'I'm sorry. Sit down please. What can I do for you?'

'We can have this conversation back at the police station of your choice if you want.'

'I said I'm sorry.'

'Apology accepted.' Rita took over. She realised Nene had rankled him enough. 'God, my watch has stopped. What time is it?' She intentionally looked at Honey Singh. Honey Singh was working on a laptop and there was a big-screen computer behind him, and Rita caught a partial reflection of some brochure but she couldn't see the full screen as his body was in-between the two screens. It was some place beginning with CA...

'11:04.' Honey closed his laptop.

Yep. Same watch. She could see the slight dent from across the desk where she sat. The scratches on the chain weren't visible; they weren't required to confirm those in any case. If she had any evidence, only then would the watch be confiscated and compared to the photographs. Getting a warrant based on photographs to prove that the two were one. It didn't make someone guilty of murder or burglary.

'Any leads on the murder investigation you were working on?' Honey Singh started.

'Yes, very concrete ones in fact. But that's not what we are here to discuss.'

'How may I help you DCP Ferreira, and...' he looked at Nene who hadn't found Honey Singh worthy enough to introduce himself.

Nene still didn't say his name or rank.

'You friend Veer Singh died.' Rita broke the news calmly.

No remorse. No shock. Honey Singh stayed poker face.

'I don't see why you've come to inform me of the death of someone who, as I mentioned when you were here last time with Senior Inspector Patil,' Honey Singh ensured he looked at Nene when he mentioned Vikram's name, '.that Veer Singh and I split ages ago—'

'Wasn't he a close friend at one point in your life?'

'He was indeed, but I have had no contact with him for years now.'

'Do you know if he has any distant relatives?'

'None.'

'I guess it was a wasted visit then.'

'What part of India was he killed in?''

Guilt, besides being an extremely strong emotion, is also a fantastic phenomenon. You can, of course, hide it if you're a serial offender or a good actor like Honey Singh. But — and here's the thing — it spills out in other ways. If someone fed you partial information on a situation that you are fully aware of, it can put you in a quandary sometime. Did I hear that? Or do I know that? There is a fragile line. You need to keep a record of everything because you're living a lie.

'I didn't say he was killed, did I?'

'Well…' Honey stopped, but only for a split-second. 'If he had died a natural death I wouldn't be hearing it from you DCP Ferreira.'

Great comeback on Rita's question.

How could Honey Singh have known Veer Singh had been killed in India? A crucial thought had pushed through and she got up without a warning.

'We'll be seeing you soon, Mr Singh.'

'And don't you even try leaving this city till I tell you or you'll be sorry you tried,' Nene shot before they walked out.

***

Rita and Nene updated the others on their short meeting with Honey Singh. Both confirmed that the watch was a giveaway. Rita also revealed that she had sighted a holiday brochure of some country on Honey Singh's screen when they barged in unannounced. He had subsequently closed his laptop, but the initial two letters of the place was C and A; she hadn't caught anything else.

'The plan is on the mark: to put as much geographical distance between them and their crimes,' Rita concluded.