ANTI-SOCIAL NETWORK (5 page)

The evil snout of the Russian-made semi-automatic TT-30 Tokarev Pistol lined up with Virkar’s chest. In a spilt-second decision, Virkar dropped the Bullet towards the left and flung his body on to the dirty floor of the narrow lane, rolling towards the parked motorcycles even before he hit the ground. The motorcycle skid horizontally along the tarred floor of the gali but without Virkar astride, guiding its path, it could only manage a few yards on its own. The deafening sound of gunfire echoed in the gali as the bullet spat out by the Tokarev whizzed above Virkar, missing him by a couple of feet. By this time, Virkar’s rolling body had crashed against the tire of a parked scooter, which tilted to its side and fell against a parked motorcycle. Then, like a pack of dominos, the parked two-wheelers began to fall one after the other, creating a loud ruckus.

The sound of metal screeching against metal was enough to unsettle Usman Teacher, even though he had a gun in his hand. He turned and ran in the same direction that his companion had run towards earlier. Virkar, who was lying in a heap at one end of the fallen two-wheelers, had by now retrieved the Browning service pistol on his holster and was readying himself to shoot. He jumped up into a crouch from his semi-prone position on the floor and lined his pistol in Usman Teacher’s direction but, through the jumble of motorcycle handles and scooter tyres, he could see that it was too late; Usman Teacher was turning the corner at the end of the gali. Virkar leapt forward and broke into a run, hopping and jumping over the fallen vehicles while trying his best to reach the end of the gali in the shortest possible time. But as he turned the corner, Virkar’s heart sank. All he could see was the Mumbai crowd that milled around the Fort area throughout the day. He knew that he had very little time to find Usman Teacher before he disappeared once again. In desperation, he looked around for any sign that would point him in the direction of his quarry.

The traffic signal on the main road turned red and the traffic stopped. Virkar ran towards a waiting car and jumped on to its bonnet for a better vantage point. The driver honked in protest but Virkar ignored him as he scanned the area again in the hope of sighting Usman. Just when it seemed that Usman had once again escaped his clutches, Virkar noticed a paanwala waving at him. The shopkeeper was pointing towards a shop that sold branded garments. Virkar jumped off the bonnet and ran towards the shop. As he entered the establishment, he noticed that the sales personnel inside had shrunk back against the rows of racks lined with folded clothes. At the far end of the shop, an open door indicated that he had just missed Usman. Virkar ran out of the door into the street behind and realized that he was back to the gali where he had encountered Usman a short while ago. On instinct this time, Virkar ran in the opposite direction. Hoping he could spot Usman as he turned the corner, he scanned all the buildings that lay across the street. This time luck was on his side as, even though the street was as crowded as the one he had come from, the people milling about were mostly young college students. Among their colourful attire, Usman Teacher’s checked bush shirt stood out like a sore thumb. Virkar spotted him attempting to take cover among a knot of students as they entered the imposing entrance of the building that stood diagonally across the street. The sign etched in stone on the façade of the building proudly proclaimed ‘Willingdon College, Estb. 1854.’

‘S
o, Richard, tell me about the first time you did drugs.’

Richard Menezes was so taken aback by the blunt question that he gaped at Naina, unable to say a single word. He wasn’t prepared to immediately start sharing his deep, dark secrets. He had assumed that he would make some placatory noises and get Naina to give him a clean chit but here she was, grabbing him by the jugular, asking him uncomfortable questions. To buy a few seconds, Richard looked up at a pigeon that was lazily resting on the wooden rafters of the high ceiling of the classroom. Before he could think of an appropriate answer to stall her, Naina said, ‘Look, you’re going to tell me about it at some point anyway, so why don’t we stop wasting each other’s time and you give me all the information I need so that you can go back to your hacking in peace?’

Richard opened and shut his mouth like a fish, not knowing how to respond to this crazy woman. He looked out of the open door to the corridor outside the large classroom that doubled up as Naina Rai’s counselling room after college hours. Suddenly, a man wearing a checked bush shirt ran into the corridor, pausing outside the classroom door to catch his breath. Richard had never seen him before but there was something familiar in the manner in which the man turned his head over his shoulder, looking to see if someone was following him. Richard could immediately tell that the man was not on the right side of the law. All of a sudden, the man caught Richard staring at him from inside the classroom and, for one long moment, their eyes locked together. Before Richard could react, however, the man had rushed into the classroom.

The disturbance caused by the man’s entry didn’t upset Naina at first; instead, assuming an officious tone, she said, ‘Can’t you see there is a counselling session in progress?’ Without a word, the man turned and walked towards the door, but instead of walking out, he proceeded to try and shut it from the inside.

‘
Arre, kya kar rahe ho?
’ shouted Naina at the man’s back.

Richard sat glued to his seat. He had just spotted a gun tucked into the waistband of the man’s pants. His knees began to shake with the knowledge that although the session was over, the situation had gone from bad to much, much worse. Meanwhile, closing the heavy wooden doors of the classroom was proving to be a challenge for the man whose slight built did not give him too much strength in his arms and shoulders. He had somehow managed to shut one side of the door and was struggling with the other when he saw someone run into the corridor. He stopped trying to shut the door and turned, facing Naina who, by now, was standing right behind him, protesting loudly. The man grabbed her by the neck and put his hand over her mouth in a hasty attempt to shut her up, while simultaneously whipping out his gun from his waistband. As soon as she saw the gun, Naina calmed down instantly. She let herself be dragged to a corner.

The man now pointed the gun at Richard and raised a finger to his lips indicating that Richard should be silent, but Richard didn’t need any persuasion. He remained rooted to his spot, his whole body shaking with fear. In the corridor outside the room, the footsteps of someone passing by the door could be heard. As the footsteps receded into the distance, the man in the checked bush shirt calmed down a little but he still kept his arm around Naina’s throat. A couple of minutes later, he eased his grip a little.

‘You must be tired,’ said Naina. The man didn’t say anything but his hand loosed around her neck a bit more. ‘I have a can of Red Bull in my bag, let me get it for you,’ she said softly. He didn’t react but kept standing with his arm around her neck, ears trained on the corridor, listening intently. ‘If you don’t believe me, take it out yourself.’

For the first time, the man looked at Naina, who stared back at him with an earnestness that he couldn’t ignore. He stared at her; Naina could almost hear the gears turn within his brain. She could feel his gaze on her as he tried to decide whether she was really sympathetic or if she was playing a dirty trick on him. After a long minute or so, he let go of her neck and instead levelled the gun to her forehead. ‘Go get it,’ he ordered in a gruff whisper.

Naina nodded and turned towards the large leather bag that was lying at the foot of the table near the blackboard. She had just bent down to pick it up when the door was flung open and Virkar stood at the doorway, the gun in his hand levelled straight at the man in the bush shirt. ‘Give up, Usman,’ Virkar hissed. But Usman Teacher was in no mood to do so; in fact, having had the advantage of stabilizing himself over the past few minutes, he fired a shot, and the bullet nicked Virkar’s right shoulder. Virkar lost his balance because of the sudden shock of the bullet and fell, hitting his head on the corner of a desk that stood by the side of the door. Virkar’s gun slipped out of his hand as the combination of the gunshot wound and the knock on his head rendered him unconscious and he slumped on the floor of the classroom.

Usman Teacher sprang forward, grabbed Naina by the hair and started for the door. But at that very moment Richard fell off his chair, shivering uncontrollably. The foam at the corners of his mouth indicated that he was having some kind of a fit. Usman Teacher stared at Richard who had by then begun convulsing and holding onto his chest as if he was having a heart attack. A plastic vial filled with white powder rolled out of Richard’s pocket and on to the floor. Naina raised her voice in a scream for the first time. ‘He’s having a withdrawal attack! He’ll die, please help him.’ Usman Teacher’s eyes jumped from Naina to Richard to the vial. He dragged Naina backwards to her table on which lay a hardbound book. Releasing her for a split second, he said, ‘Pick him up.’ Naina bent down and lifted the scrawny Richard and made him sit on her chair. Richard stabilized as he sat.

‘Now the vial,’ hissed Usman Teacher. Naina quickly scooped it up and kept it on the table. Usman grabbed her again; placing the gun on her right temple as he spoke to Richard. ‘Cut yourself a line and one for me, too.’ With trembling hands, Richard emptied the contents of the vial on to the hardbound book. He reached into his pocket and drew out a hundred-rupee note and a credit card. He rolled the hundred-rupee note with one hand, while in the other he held the credit card, deftly using it to separate the mound of white powder on the hardbound book into two thin lines. He was about to place the rolled hundred-rupee note against his nostril, when Usman grabbed the makeshift pipe from him. Richard nodded in understanding and raised the hardbound book, offering the first snort to Usman. Usman loosened the grip on Naina’s neck but kept the gun pointing in her direction. He brought the pipe close to his nostril, placing the other end at the edge of the white powder line. Without warning, Richard blew hard on the white powder which flew straight into Usman’s eyes.

As Usman screamed, Naina grabbed the hand holding the gun and twisted his wrist in such a way that the gun now faced the ceiling. Usman screamed again and squeezed the trigger of the gun in panic. The bullet shot out into the air towards the high ceiling of the British-made structure. He fired again and again but the bullets all sang their way to the sky, hitting the distant ceiling tiles. Although the bullets had no effect, the sound of the gunfire revived the unconscious Virkar, who sprang to his feet, leapt towards Usman Teacher and grabbed the gun from his hand. Virkar pushed Usman with whatever strength he had left in him and dropped him to the ground. He then aimed the gun at Usman while he dialled for backup. Usman Teacher’s eyes were swimming with tears of frustration as he lay on the ground. Through his blurred vision, he could see Richard standing calmly by Naina’s side. Usman cursed himself as he saw Richard turn to her, smile and wink.

‘S
omething had really upset her but she had buried it deep inside. But I could tell that something was wrong,’ Naina said, with concern etched on her face. She was sitting across from Virkar at the Crime Branch Headquarters. After the incident at Willingdon, Virkar had made a quick trip to JJ Hospital to get his shoulder looked at. The doctor had declared it to be a flesh wound, which was a signal to Virkar to get it bandaged and plunge right back into work. He had summoned Naina and Richard in for a full statement on all that had transpired earlier that evening. Richard had already given his statement and left.

While taking down her statement, Virkar had mentioned to Naina that, before encountering Usman Teacher, he had been on his way to Willingdon College to find out more about Sagarika Purohit. Naina’s response was to give Virkar a detailed background on Sagarika, since Naina had been her counsellor. Sagarika was a girl from a middle-class family in Nagpur who gave in to her dreams of studying in Mumbai. Her parents had enrolled her at Willingdon as it was the only college that had a very strict girls’ hostel. Sagarika was an excellent student who had stood first in every class at school. In fact, in Naina’s assessment, Sagarika’s intellect bordered on genius. Unfortunately, in the recent past, Sagarika had fallen into proverbial ‘bad company’; drugs and partying had started affecting her attendance and the only thing preventing college authorities from expelling her was her stellar academic record. She had been undergoing compulsory counselling with Naina and was showing progress. She had revealed to Naina that she had recently found herself a boyfriend, but also indicated that there were some problems that had cropped up between them. Sagarika had not revealed the identity of her boyfriend, but had referred to him as ‘K’.

About a week ago, Sagarika had called Naina and told her that she was very upset because of something that had happened and she was going to tell Naina everything at their next meeting but, unfortunately, she had been missing since then.

Virkar pulled out a photograph of Kshitij Bhatia and showed it to Naina. ‘Could this guy be Sagarika’s boyfriend?’

Naina shrugged. ‘Could be, although I never saw anyone with her. She just told me about this guy in her life, K.’

Virkar sat back in his chair and said, ‘This person’s name is Kshitij. Do you think Kshitij could have been Sagarika’s boyfriend and Rajesh had somehow filmed them having sex and was blackmailing them? If Kshitij didn’t support her, or if he was in on it, it could have pushed Sagarika over the edge and led to her becoming a killer.’

Naina looked thoughtful. ‘That could be the case, although I can’t be certain.’

Virkar knew that his theory had weight as it seemed to be the most likely reason for Sagarika becoming a deranged killer. The counsellor had given him the lead that he was desperately looking for and he suddenly felt very grateful. For the first time, Virkar actually
looked
at her. When Naina fixed him with her melting chocolate-brown eyes, Virkar felt inexplicably drawn to them, to his surprise. His gaze travelled from her eyes down to her irresistible smile. To him, her lips seemed full and inviting. He shook his head vigorously, trying to rid himself of the surge of electricity that he suddenly felt coursing through his brain. Trying to steady his unsettled self, he reached for the glass of water on his desk and took a few quick gulps.