ANTI-SOCIAL NETWORK (15 page)

By now, the fifteen-minute deadline was over and Virkar’s pulse began to quicken, anticipating the arrival of the mystery man. His eyes floated over the few occupants of the garden. The three men lying on the lawn on spread-out newspaper sheets seemed to be in deep slumber. The mother and daughter sitting on the grey mushroom-like water bench were busy trying to figure out what material the upholstered bench was made of. The little girl bounced up and down in excitement on the cushioned surface. The two men playing chess in the shade of a large tamarind tree seemed engrossed in their game. Virkar cast a glance at the gate but no one entered.

Three more minutes passed by and everything remained the same. Virkar was beginning to wonder if this was going to be a waste of time when he caught a slight movement from the corner of his eye. The chess players were finishing their game. One of the players, the bearded one, stood up and shook the other’s hand. The seated player smiled broadly. He was obviously the winner of the match and also the owner of the chessboard. He continued to gather the pieces and pack them into a battered tin while the bearded player turned and began to walk away. Virkar let his eyes roam casually over his face. The man had a youngish, intellectual look about him. As he neared, Virkar let his gaze drop away, turning his attention to his peanuts but keeping the corner of his eye focused on the gate. A minute ticked by and still no one entered; in fact, the only activity at the gate was that of the bearded chess player walking out. Just as he exited, the bearded chess player turned back and glanced at Virkar. Virkar looked back at him and for a fraction of a second, their eyes locked together. Suddenly, instinctively, Virkar realized that he was the mystery man. He shot up from his bench and rushed towards the gate but by the time he reached, the mystery man was nowhere to be seen. At the other end of the garden, the two plainclothes constables dropped their newspapers and rushed to the gate as well.

Virkar’s frantic eyes quickly surveyed the crowd, trying to spot his quarry. A slight commotion in the distance caught his attention—a young college girl was shouting at someone. He instantly spotted the fast receding back of the mystery man about a hundred yards ahead of her. Virkar’s feet flew across the street, trying to weave their way through the crowd as fast as they could. As Vikar began to close the gap between them, the bearded mystery man glanced over his shoulder. Realizing that Virkar was hurtling towards him, he suddenly increased his pace. By now, the streets of the Fort area were filled with the office crowd taking a lunch break. Virkar pushed and shoved his way through, knowing that this was his only chance to grab the mystery man; Virkar had been recognized by the man and he would surely not make a mistake again.

Suddenly, Virkar’s phone vibrated in his pocket. He would normally not have paid attention to it but he thought that one of the constables might be trying to reach him. Desperate for any kind of help, he pulled out the phone and shot a glance at the screen. It wasn’t a missed call but an MMS. Virkar was about to shove the phone back into his pocket when his finger accidentally pressed the ‘open’ button. A video sprang to life on the screen.

Virkar stopped dead in his tracks, waves of shock coursing through his body. Virkar steadied his nerves as stared at the video on the phone screen. He saw himself stark naked in Naina’s bedroom, walking towards her bed. The video ended abruptly after a few seconds and a message flashed in front of his eyes:
Stop chasing me or this video will be all over the Internet
.

‘W
here could it be?’ a frustrated Virkar exploded. His attempt at dismantling the ceiling fan and looking at its components had yielded no results. Virkar had spent most of the afternoon searching for the hidden camera device that had shot the footage of him in Naina’s bed.

‘I told you that it wasn’t in the fan,’ Naina said. ‘The angle is not right.’

‘I can’t leave anything to chance,’ he replied, looking determined.

Naina was only half listening to him. Her gaze was fixed intently on the video clip that she was playing on Virkar’s mobile. ‘This camera is at the same level as you…a little lower perhaps…’

Virkar cut her off. ‘How do we know there aren’t any other cameras? The fact that the bastard got a video recording device into this room is shocking in itself.’

Naina didn’t say anything; she seemed deep in thought. Virkar continued, ‘He could have more footage of us actually making love. This guy could destroy my reputation, our lives.’

Naina looked up, suddenly becoming aware of what Virkar had said. Her eyes began to well up with tears. Virkar stepped closer and wrapped his arms around her. Naina rested her face on his chest. For a few minutes, they stood silently in embrace but Naina’s hot tears on his chest spoke volumes to Virkar.

‘Don’t be afraid, Naina,’ Virkar said in a soothing voice. ‘Nothing is going to happen to you.’ Naina gently broke away from him, looking him in the face as the tears continued to fall. She looked as if she wanted to say something. Something was bothering her. Virkar waited for her to speak, but Naina remained silent. The tears kept streaming down. Virkar reached out and wiped her tears with his palm. ‘Now I understand this man’s game. He preys on people’s fears to extort whatever he wants from them. But I’ll catch him. I swear to you.’ His grim, determined voice had its effect on Naina—her tears suddenly abated.

Just then, the doorbell rang. Virkar raised a quizzical eyebrow at Naina. ‘Were you expecting someone?’ Naina nodded.

‘Who?’

‘Richard.’

‘What? Why?’ Virkar burst out.

‘He’s good with all this high-tech stuff. He’ll help us,’ she said as she got up to open the door. But Virkar reached out and held her back. She turned to face him.

‘Only on one condition. You don’t show him the footage.’

Naina’s eyes widened. ‘Of course not, stupid.’

She left to open the door. A few seconds later, Richard entered the room. He had noticed Naina’s puffy eyes and Virkar’s grim face and was suitably subdued.

Without wasting any time, Virkar said, ‘Richard, I need you to help me find a camera hidden in this room.’

If Richard was surprised on hearing this, he did not show it. His eyes scanned the room and settled on Naina’s study table at the far corner of the room. ‘There it is,’ he said. Virkar and Naina turned to look in the direction of the table.

‘Where?’ they asked almost in unison.

‘There.’ Richard pointed at the computer on the table.

‘I don’t get it,’ Virkar said, looking confused.

‘Inspector, the problem is that you’re looking for a hidden camera but there is one out in the open. The webcam.’

Virkar and Naina stared at the computer, looking stunned.

Virkar shook his head. ‘No, no…I’m looking for a camera that can record something in this room.’

Richard nodded. ‘That webcam can record whatever goes on.’

‘But…’ Virkar trailed off, suddenly realizing that what Richard was saying made perfect sense. In fact, now that he looked at it closely, the angle of the webcam was absolutely right for the video clip on his phone.

Naina spoke for the first time. ‘Richard, can you show us how it’s possible for someone other than us to record a video using my webcam?’

Richard walked up to the computer and noticed that although the computer was in sleep mode, its power was turned on. Richard looked at Naina. ‘Do you always keep your computer on?’

Naina shrugged. ‘Well…yes. I don’t like to wait while it boots every time, so I keep it in sleep mode so that when I want to access something quickly, all I have to do is press a key.’

Richard nodded. ‘Most people do that, but that also means that the computer is actually on, and so is the webcam.’ Richard now began to enter various codes into the computer. ‘Do you play online games or stream TV shows?’

Naina nodded. ‘I sometimes watch episodes of
Friends
online.’

‘That’s it,’ said Richard. ‘You click on a link of an episode of
Friends
and it says, “You don’t have the required codec. Click here to download it,” right?’

‘I don’t know,’ Naina said, looking unsure.

‘Yes,’ said Richard. ‘Most people don’t even know what they are doing. They click on the download button and start watching their show. But in the background, the codec can be programmed to work as a Trojan. To simplify, it can serve as a backdoor entry into your computer, allowing another user remote access to your files, your folders…and your webcam.’

‘But I have an antivirus program installed.’

Richard shrugged. ‘What is an antivirus? It’s like the small Chinese lock on your suitcase. Anyone who knows how can break it in his sleep.’

By now, Virkar was standing next to Richard and listening to him intently. ‘If what you to say is possible, it’s a really scary situation.’

Richard smiled. ‘You bet. The hacker can treat your computer as his own. All he has to do is run an application that accesses the webcam and record from it—even with something as simple as a Skype call.’

‘Richard, can you please make sure that all that remote access-shackcess is removed from my computer?’ Naina asked, sounding angry.

Richard’s smile became broader. ‘Of course I can.’ Virkar looked at him, half expecting him to ask for something in return. But Richard shook his head. ‘This one’s for free, Inspector.’ He turned back to the computer and started punching keys rapidly.

Suddenly, Virkar’s phone vibrated with a message alert. Virkar opened the SMS and froze.
‘So you found it. No problem. I’ll think of something else.’


The message ended with a grotesque-looking animated smiley that oozed blood where a knife was plunged into it.

T
he young cocaine dealer whom Virkar had nicknamed Bandra Boy didn’t know whether he was hallucinating or whether there was actually somebody lurking in the shadows behind him.

It was past 3 a.m., his usual time to return to his small family home in Bandra’s Chuim Village. As per his routine, he had been dropped off after a night of heavy partying by his friend at the head of the Chuim Village road that began at the corner of Union Park and Ambedkar Road. Most of the Goan-style houses there were dark by that time. Stumbling along the winding road as usual, he planned to quietly slink in through the back gate to his bed in the back room.

But tonight, as he began walking down the dark, deserted road, he heard soft footfalls a few feet behind him. Thinking that it was another Chuim villager returning home, he turned back to offer a few words of alcohol-soaked camaraderie but, to his surprise, all he saw were shadows. He stopped for a second and examined his surroundings as best he could in the drugged-out, and inebriated state that he was in.

‘Who’s it, men?’ he shouted to the shadows. The whine of a dog made him step back hurriedly but didn’t deter him from reaching for a stone and launching it towards the shadows. ‘
Ya kutreya
, you bitch!’ he cursed at the dog. The clank of the stone on a stray piece of tin startled the dog, who yelped and rushed past him down the road. The Bandra Boy turned to face the direction of the running dog and raised his arms over his head, letting out a war cry that only made sense to him. ‘Don’t fuck with my luck, you
zhunt
…I am the king of Chuim!’ He was so engrossed in proclaiming his supremacy over the dog that he didn’t notice a slim man-shaped shadow detach itself from the darkness behind him.

The shadow walked purposefully towards the still-cursing Bandra Boy and, creeping up behind him, snaked its arms around his throat and held him in a vice-like grip. The Bandra Boy’s stream of obscenities got stuck in his throat as the chokehold around his neck began to tighten. His thin, scrawny body began to flail its limbs about but with every movement that he made, the Bandra Boy only felt the arm around his neck squeeze tighter and tighter. A black cloud began to form in front of his eyes. As the oxygen supply to his brain decreased, the Bandra Boy couldn’t help but marvel at the high that he was experiencing. Suddenly, all other highs seemed to pale in comparison to this one. He stopped struggling and embraced the experience. His brain began to float on a gentle tide of wooliness. Now the Bandra Boy could only experience the sense of sound, which seemed to have heightened to a remarkable degree. He could hear the shadow’s breath in his ears. Or was it the breeze? Perhaps it was the waves crashing against the sea that lay beyond Chuim Village. As the Bandra Boy slipped into slow death, he finally realized that the sound in his ears was that of the blood raging inside his head.

Even after ten minutes of the Bandra Boy’s body going completely limp, the shadow continued to hold his neck in the unrelenting grip of its arms. It was only when the dog returned and let out an errant bark once again that the shadow released the pressure somewhat. But it did not release its hold just yet; instead, the shadow began to walk backwards, dragging the Bandra Boy along. The dog sat on the side, watching the scene. At first, the dog didn’t realize where the shadow was headed but as it lifted the makeshift tin covering a manhole, the dog began to whine incessantly. That hole in the ground was the dog’s hiding place and he didn’t like strangers messing around in it.

But the shadow didn’t pay him any attention. Instead, it raised the Bandra Boy’s body straight up by holding it under the armpits and began to lower him into the hole. Suddenly, the shadow let go and with a loud plop, the Bandra Boy’s body fell almost eight feet down the hole before getting stuck on a jutting edge. The shadow stood watching the mouth of the hole for a few minutes, almost as if it expected the Bandra Boy to crawl out of it at any moment. Finally satisfied that the Bandra Boy had found a permanent resting place, the shadow turned away and walked towards the mouth of the Chuim Village road. The dog whined once more as it watched the shadow walking away.

Somewhere towards the head of the road, the shadow melted back into the darkness.

V
irkar took one hard
swig from a newly opened bottle of Godfather beer and immediately spat it out. ‘
Tchaila
!’ he cursed. The beer was flat. His supplier was slipping up. Each bottle of Godfather was precious to him since it was always so rare to find in Mumbai. In disgust, he threw the bottle over the side rails of the Koli Queen and immediately regretted it—he hated littering the sea. Virkar was out on another one of his midnight boat rides where copious amounts of Godfather beer and Jhinga Koliwada combined with the cool salty sea air helped clear the logjam of information in his head.