The Bestseller She Wrote (36 page)

Shreya stayed silent.

‘You were not comfortable enough to ask him to order 200 copies of your book for corporate gifting, but you were comfortable enough to send him the manuscript of my yet-to-be-published book,’ Aditya announced.

‘Utter nonsense,’ Sanjay protested. ‘She didn’t send me anything.’ He stood up from his chair, looking furious.

‘Hold on, Sanjay. Relax. I am not saying it’s your fault,’ Aditya looked at Shreya, before he looked at Sanjay and Diana again and whispered, ‘yet.’

Sanjay sat down. Diana’s hand moved on top of his and held it firmly. She looked nervous and fidgety.

‘So,’ Aditya continued, ‘you sent the manuscript I sent you, to Sanjay.’ Sanjay started to get up again, but Diana restrained him. ‘The same manuscript, which I sent you in confidence, even before Maya had seen it. A manuscript, an edited version of which you sent back to me with the lines which had been copied from other popular international books,’ Aditya stated the facts calmly though his eyes burned with rage.

‘Why are you putting the responsibility for your plagiarising ways on me? I have nothing to do with it,’ Shreya said. She looked out through the glass walls at the crowd down below. She wanted to walk out of the conversation, but couldn’t. She had a book launch to do. Walking out would jeopardise the event. She was trapped between Aditya’s allegations and her ambitions.

Aditya ignored her response. ‘Kolkata: the day my problems started. I was having dinner with Sunaina. She was reading Wendy Doniger’s book, On Hinduism—a controversial book which had been withdrawn by its publishers. She told me that she had borrowed it from you Shreya,’ he charged.

‘What’s wrong with that?’

‘No, no,’ Aditya shook his head. ‘There’s nothing wrong. Absolutely nothing.’ He looked around the room. ‘This copy of the book had some crazy doodles on the first few pages. Some weird, crazy, eye-catching doodles; not very forgettable,’ he said.

‘So? How is it even relevant?’ Shreya asked.

‘It didn’t strike me till a few days ago, till I saw a paper which Diana had left behind on my desk at work. The doodles that she had drawn on that paper resembled the doodles that I had seen on the book. Similar, not exact, but same family—clearly they had been drawn by the same person. I asked Diana if she had read Wendy Doniger. And she said she hadn’t. But . . .’

Everyone looked at him with anticipation, wondering what he was going to reveal next.

‘. . . But, she had tried. And when she was unable to read through it, she gifted that book to Sanjay.’ He looked at Sanjay who was staring at Diana and Aditya alternately.

‘Cut the crap, Aditya. What if it was Sanjay’s book? How does it matter?’ Shreya was beginning to turn aggressive.

‘It matters because I have known Sanjay for as long as I have known Maya; over fifteen years. He is a black hole as far as books are concerned. He never lends his books to anyone. He has over 8000 books lying all over his house—on shelves, packed in cartons, some even warehoused. So much so that when you walk into his house you may feel like you’ve walked into a bookstore. He buys, buys and buys books, but has never as much as lent it out to friends to even flip through. Ever. Maya has tried borrowing from him. I tried a few days back and failed. On campus he had a reputation for being possessive about his books. In fact if you read the comment about him in
iimpressions
, this is what it says:

‘
The deceptively serious looking self-proclaimed fitness freak,

Would struggle through jogging, gym and ten hours of sleep.

After crunching all available novels in a sleepless night,

He would awake sleeping wing mates and give gratuitous advice.

His room gave you the feel of an old bookstore,

You will be hit instantly with a sense of vellichor.

Books are his solace, books are his zone,

Never lending them to others, for that he is known.

In the first year, romance took his life by storm,

But his lady turned him down before too long.

“
Let’s be friends” ahh the cliched curse,

He was left at the water tank, with a broken heart to nurse.

He was an HR genius from day one, for he understood

hierarchy and rank.

Everyone agrees, that for Sanjay, there is glory in store,

He’ll make us proud, he is an achiever to the core.

‘He has been like this for ever. Try touching the books that he has in his cabin and you would know. It is such a strong trait of his that the fact that he did lend books to you is reason enough for antennae to be raised,’ Aditya proclaimed.

‘She was desperate to read it, so I did give it to her. I don’t see a problem in that,’ Sanjay said. He was unhassled. He assumed that it was Shreya who needed defending. Aditya was happy that Sanjay had agreed that he had lent the book to Shreya. If he hadn’t then Aditya had another ace up his sleeve. The charge slip that he found inside
The Luminaries
was in the name of Sanjay. The bookshop Reliance TimeOut, from where the book had been bought, had closed down two years ago, much before Shreya came to Mumbai. He had the charge slip in his pocket, ready to produce, just in case Sanjay refused to acknowledge the fact that he lent books to Shreya.

‘You are right. There’s nothing wrong with that,’ Aditya concurred. ‘Just that she sent the manuscript to you, which she shouldn’t have. And you lent her a book which you never do. Both may seem trivial but, to me, both are red flags. Exceptional behaviour; yet it doesn’t prove anything.’

‘Bullshit,’ Sanjay exclaimed.

Aditya paused, let Sanjay calm down for just a second, and continued, ‘Had it stopped there, it would have been fine. I would have thought that it was coincidence. But then the manuscript comes back to me with a number of edits, which I, like an idiot, accept because I am smitten by Shreya. And then I am told, much later at the most inappropriate of times that those lines are plagiarised; that too from international bestsellers, which I have never read,’ he said with a laugh.

‘For a minute let’s assume that Shreya did clandestinely insert those lines in the manuscript. She would only insert lines from books she has read, otherwise it will be almost impossible to force-fit arbitrary lines from one book into the another. It has to look good and read good. No?’ Aditya went on. Seeing the blank look on everyone’s face, particularly Anurag Kashyap and Ramesh Karia’s, he went on to tell everyone about the lines which had been deceitfully plagiarised into his book.

‘Fair assumption,’ Anurag spoke up this time. ‘For anyone who has not read a book to pick up lines from that book and insert them into another manuscript is a bit difficult, if not impossible. Not to mention time-consuming. I have seen this happening in film scripts too and your assumption is correct.’

‘Yes. And look at the books from which the lines have been inserted in my manuscript—Dan Brown, John Grisham, Baldacci, Ken Follett—all thrillers, in line with the fact that my books are thrillers too. A perfect fit.’ He picked up a glass of water from the table and gulped it down.

‘But,’ he took another gulp and continued. ‘But the problem is,’ he said looking at Shreya, ‘she doesn’t read thrillers.’ Everyone looked at Shreya who had no expression on her face. ‘The only thrillers she has ever read are my books.’ He paused for effect and then said, ‘Or so she claims.’

‘I can vouch for that,’ Sunaina spoke up. ‘I know what she reads.’

‘And now look at this,’ he said, as he opened his phone and brought up a picture on his screen. He turned it towards everyone else. Everyone either moved closer or squinted their eyes to look at what Aditya was showing them.

‘This is the picture of Sanjay’s table a few days back. If you notice there are twenty-six books here. All the six books from which lines have been plagiarised into my book are also here.’

‘Are you seriously out of your mind, Aditya?’ Sanjay yelled at the top of his voice. ‘Like really? This is what it has come to?’ He shook his head furiously. ‘Why are you dragging me into your personal issues? You are the one who screwed up your personal life, you are the one who messed with your career, you are the one who didn’t think twice before engaging in an affair with Shreya. Now how dare you put the blame on me?’

‘Well I would not have, had you stayed away. All the books that you copied lines from are thrillers. And you read every single thriller that comes in the market. Fourteen of the twenty-six books displayed here are thrillers,’ Aditya said, his voice emphatic. He turned towards Tim. ‘I am sure they are still there in his room. You can quickly check that out.’

‘Yes, I like to read thrillers. So do many others. It is not difficult to find these six books in anybody’s personal collection. Your insinuations are baseless and insulting,’ Sanjay yelled. ‘It just shows that you have lost your balls and you no longer value our friendship. You are sick. Go see a doc,’ Sanjay lashed out.

‘Really?’ Aditya asked him sarcastically. ‘Well, you know what, Sanjay? The fact that you got the manuscript from Shreya . . .’ he was immediately interrupted by Sanjay, who said, ‘I didn’t.’ Aditya ignored him and went on, ‘The fact that you read thrillers and the fact that all the six books from where the lines were copied are on your table right now, doesn’t prove anything. I agree. I would still have given you the benefit of the doubt had Maya not called me, Sanjay. Had it not been for numbers!’

‘Numbers?’ Tim mumbled, confused.

‘Yes, Tim. Numbers,’ Aditya said and looked around. In the room were ten people—Aditya, Shreya, Sunaina, Melwin, Sanjay, Diana, Tim, Anurag, Vaishali and Rakesh Karia.

‘How many of you have iPhones?’ Aditya looked around the room. ‘Six,’ he counted.

‘Sanjay,’ he called out. ‘Can I look at your phone?’

‘Why do you need it?’ Sanjay asked aggressively.

‘It is locked, isn’t it? Then why are you scared?’ Aditya said. Sanjay handed the phone over to him; it was locked. There was no way Aditya was going to get into it without unlocking the phone using the passcode.

Aditya held the phone in his hand. ‘Nice picture,’ he commented on the wallpaper and placed the phone down on the table. All eyes were on the phone. ‘Normally most people have dates as passcodes, right?’ Everyone nodded. ‘Normally,’ he reiterated. ‘Not always.’

‘It is either your birthday, anniversary, the day you met your love for the first time, the day you got your first job, or other such significant dates in your life. Correct?’ Aditya continued. No one disagreed.

‘Now, let me guess Sanjay’s passcode using this logic,’ said Aditya. Sanjay had an arrogant smile on his face: the ‘fuck only cares’ kind of smile. Aditya took a piece of paper and quickly noted down Sanjay’s birthday, Diana’s birthday, various anniversaries and even dates on which Sanjay had shifted jobs. There were twenty-eight possible codes he wrote down. Sanjay looked at the list and waved his hand nonchalantly.

‘I am good with numbers,’ Aditya boasted as he keyed in the first number. The phone didn’t come up. He keyed in the second. Same result.

Third

Fourth . . .

One by one he keyed in eight codes from the list in front of him. He was about to key in the ninth when Sanjay panicked.

‘Hold it, dude,’ he yelled. ‘The iPhone is programmed to erase itself after ten wrong passcode attempts. So, stop this crap.’

‘Do not worry,’ Aditya said very casually as he walked way from him and keyed the first three digits. Sanjay was in a state of seizure. He had lots of data on his phone and didn’t want his phone to get erased. ‘Chill, bro,’ Aditya reassured. ‘If it doesn’t come up now, I will give it to you and you can unlock it using the right code.’

He looked around the room, moved his finger to the iPhone screen and pressed the fourth digit.

The keypad disappeared and the phone came on immediately. The passcode was correct. Sanjay looked at him shocked.

‘So my logic was correct,’ Aditya looked around with a wide grin. ‘But there is a problem. The code I keyed in is not a date which should normally have had any relevance to Sanjay.’ He looked at Ramesh Karia. ‘It’s not a date on this list,’ he said, as he held it up for people to see.

Sanjay looked stricken.

‘2309,’ he paused. ‘That is the code I keyed in. And if I know Sanjay I cannot think of any relevance that the date 2309 might hold for him. Maybe he can tell us. What say, Sanjay?’ he asked.

Sanjay was too shocked to speak. ‘I don’t think I need to tell you anything about it. My passcode is my prerogative,’ Sanjay hissed. He extended his hand to collect the phone back, frown intact.

‘Oh yes. It is, it is. I have got to be a fool to even ask you. I am sorry, Sanjay. Unfortunately I got swayed because my passcode is also the same,’ Aditya revealed.

‘What?’ Shreya asked. She had a strange look on her face.

‘Yes, darling. 2309 is my passcode too. The day Sanjay told me that Maya was upset at our pictures from Royal China making it to the papers, I called her. Fortunately or unfortunately, I had mistakenly picked up Sanjay’s phone, thinking it was mine and called Maya using that,’ he said. He looked at the others in the room and said, ‘We have the same phone. iPhone5.’ He pulled out his phone and placed it on the table. ‘Maya, when she picked up the phone, addressed me as Sanjay before she realised it was me. It didn’t strike me even then,’ Aditya said.