Bankerupt (Ravi Subramanian) (6 page)

‘Hmm …’ Richard nodded. ‘There is a deficiency in my research track record. Most of my research is centred on America. The cross-cultural touch is missing.’

‘Oh. I didn’t know it was that important.’

‘It is. That’s what James told me.’

‘That’s not something you can fix in a hurry. How are you planning to address it?’

‘That’s why I am here.’

‘As in?’ Cirisha’s eyebrows went up. She had no clue what he was hinting at.

‘Cirisha. Your research has a good Third World aspect. India, Asia and what not.’

‘It suits me well that way. I don’t need to stay away from my family for long.’

‘If we collaborate, we can be of use to one another.’

‘Sorry, I don’t understand.’ She was getting snappy and restless. More so, because the man on the road had been staring unblinkingly in the direction of her room for the past fifteen minutes. It was beginning to worry her.

‘Take me on as a co-author for your research paper.’

‘What?’ This was the first time anyone had said this to Cirisha. Though she knew that these adjustments happened regularly in the world of academic research, she had never been approached for such a thing in the past.

‘Yes. It’s simple. You add me on as a co-author when you publish your paper, and I will reciprocate. I will add your name as a co-author too. Which means that for you to become eligible for a tenured position, you will only need three more research papers and not four. We could agree to collaborate for our future projects too.’

Even though the proposal seemed interesting, it instinctively struck her as unethical. She didn’t want to cheat the system. She had never done such a thing.

‘I’ll think about it,’ was all that she could say. She was aware of the fact that Deahl and Cardoza would never see eye to eye on something like this. Richard and she were fond of each other, but the same could not be said of Cardoza and Deahl. They were sworn enemies.

In the field of faculty research, it was not about the pay packages: they never got paid that much to fret over. It was not about the car one drove, or the number of bedrooms in the house that one lived in. It was all about egos. The larger the project one did, the bigger the research one ran, the more the millions of dollars in one’s research budget. Cardoza had a history of mobilizing large grants for his research projects for a long time until Deahl came from nowhere and upstaged him.

Cirisha considered, for a moment, that if Richard was suggesting something like this, would he have spoken to Deahl and sought his blessings? What about Cardoza? But then she dismissed the thought. Before worrying about Cardoza’s point of view, she had to agree to it first. And as of now, she didn’t.

The two of them spent twenty minutes together before they left. On the way out of the block, Cirisha stopped and looked towards the lamp post. There was no one there. Where had he disappeared?

With brisk steps she walked towards the car park. Whether she was struggling to keep pace with Richard’s longer steps or whether it was out of fear, it was impossible to tell.

As she got into her car and exited the parking lot, she saw someone peering from behind a large tree just outside it. It was the same man. Her heart skipped a few beats as she stepped on the accelerator and raced out of the parking lot towards her residence, not too far away.

8

February 2005

Mumbai

Aditya got up late the next day—it took the incessant ringing of his mobile phone to break his deep slumber.

‘Hi Ciri,’ he said as he picked up the phone.

‘Sleeping? Still? It’s well past ten there. Get up now. Not going to work?’

‘Hmm … Overslept.’

‘With whom?’

‘Very funny. Shivinder was here. We had a few drinks. I slept at four, only after he left. Guess the alarm was not loud enough to wake me.’

‘Oh, OK. I just got home some time back. Thought of calling you.’

‘Reached so late?’

‘The sponsors are on Michael’s case. And pressure, like water, always flows from a higher to a lower level. Michael peacefully passed it on to his flunkies. So I stayed back to finish my work.’

‘Oh. When are you flying back?’

‘Next Thursday. You have a copy of the ticket with you. I had sent it to you.’

‘Just asked.’

‘You know, Aditya, I was very scared today. I felt I was being stalked. First time ever.’

‘What nonsense!’

‘Yes, Aditya. There was a guy standing below my block for two hours. And then when I drove out of the parking, I saw him hiding behind a tree.’

‘Really?’

‘I don’t know if I’m overreacting.’

‘Your instinct has more often than not been correct. Do you know who he was?’

‘No. I’ve never seen him before. He had drawn his cap over his face. So I couldn’t see it clearly.’

‘This doesn’t sound good at all.’ Aditya was fully awake now. Nervous too.

‘I know. But it is OK. I will manage.’

‘Do you really have to do this?’

‘Do what?’

‘Do you really have to keep working there? Why can’t you be here for good? You have fabulous colleges here where you can teach. Why struggle like this?’

‘You know fully well it’s not only about the teaching.’

‘OK. You can pursue your academic career here. There are enough institutions. And in any case I earn enough for both of us.’ For Cirisha, a career in academia was about more than just teaching.

‘It’s not about the money, Aditya. I have my own career. I have to establish myself. The research culture here is far stronger than in India. The respect that academicians command here is far higher than you can ever imagine. Unless you want me to come back and stay at home and make breakfast and coffee for you every morning.’

Aditya was in no mood to carry on that conversation. The two of them had had the same discussion many times before, and each time it had ended the same way. With Aditya backing off.

‘Anyway. Don’t go out alone. Take care. And if you see the guy again, please tell Michael or at least call the police. And by the way, the gun is functioning properly, right?’

‘Yes, it is. I tested it at the firing range just last week. Don’t worry. You take care.’

The moment she disconnected, she felt that she should not have told him about the stalker. He would unnecessarily get paranoid. It would give him one more reason to push for her to return to India for good. She opened her laptop and started working on her project. Her deadline was near.

9

May 2005

Mumbai

The boardroom at Step Up Shoes was packed. Jigar Shah, Shivinder Singh and Deven Khatri were present, all looking dapper in their well-tailored suits. A couple of private equity players who were considering investing in the company were also there. Three of their bankers had turned up too.

Aditya was standing in a corner watching the fun. A board meeting was a regular statutory affair at Step Up Shoes, though never had it been done on this scale, where everyone involved with the company had been invited as observers. It was important to showcase the achievement and the tremendous growth of the organization. A big splash was important in order to get noticed by the market makers. A few journalists had come in for a press conference which was to be held after the board meeting.

The annual result of Step Up Shoes was a delight in itself. The sales turnover had increased by about 35 per cent, while the expense line was up by only 20 per cent. Profitability had jumped by over 60 per cent. The small crowd was ecstatic. The applause refused to die down. Everything was progressing like a fairy tale, until one reporter raised his hand.

‘But sir, your receivables position is quite precarious.’

‘Precarious?’ Deven Khatri ridiculed. ‘What’s precarious about it?’

‘Yes. Precarious. Last year, when your turnover was four hundred crores, you had outstanding payment receivables of sixty crores. Today, on a turnover of five hundred and twenty-five crores, you have outstanding amounts of a hundred and ten crores. Isn’t that too high?’ There was silence in the room. Not because anybody suspected foul play, but because no one knew from where the answer would come.

‘That’s because a significant portion of our sales jump has come in the winter and festive season. Which is the period from November 2004 to March 2005 or, in other words, the last five months of the previous financial year. And we offer a hundred and eighty days’ credit to our dealers. Hence those amounts have not even become due from the dealers. That explains why most of these monies have not come in by 31st March and are still showing as outstanding in our books as at the end of the financial year.’ Aditya was impressed. Never had he seen Deven so confident.

‘So you feel that’s not an item to worry about?’

‘Not at all. This cash will eventually come in. They are definitely not bad debts,’ Shivinder stepped in nonchalantly. The journalist was convinced, more by the confidence with which Shivinder said those words than by what he actually said. He went back to his seat and started scribbling something on his notepad. Shivinder looked at Aditya from the corner of his eye. Aditya was smiling. They had handled it well.

The event went off brilliantly. Sales growth. Profitability growth. Expansion of the dealer network. Step Up Shoes looked good on all the matrices. So what if forty crores of the total turnover had been cooked up? No one would ever know.

‘Well, the plan worked,’ Aditya said to Shivinder when they met after the board meeting.

‘Your idea to beef up sales numbers was brilliant, Aditya. I would never have conjured up this plan. This is why it helps to have an investment banker on our side,’ Shivinder gloated. ‘I was talking to Nalin on the sidelines. He congratulated me and said that we will now command a great premium. He even said that no one can prevent us from closing this deal now. If Nalin, being the expert that he is, couldn’t see through it, nobody will ever be able to.’

Aditya smiled. Wasn’t all of it Nalin’s plan in the first place? Aditya was just an able lieutenant. He wanted to tell Shivinder to get real, but held back. The entire orchestration of the plan came floating before his eyes.

His thoughts went back to the day when, armed with Nalin’s instructions, he had been introduced to Deven Khatri. That day he had coached Deven on what had to be done. Deven hadn’t seemed too convinced. It had taken some effort to bring him on board. ‘Our true sales will not change, Deven. However, in our books we will show an increased sales figure. Take our Delhi franchisee, Regalia Shoes, for instance. In the normal course, Regalia would buy shoes worth five crores every year. Now as per our plan, we will raise fictitious invoices for an additional two crores and show in our books that we have sold them stock worth seven crores. So our actual turnover, which should have been five crores, will show up as seven crores in our financials. A 40 per cent increase in turnover.

‘These fictitious invoices won’t be sent to Regalia. They will remain with you. Our recovery team that follows up with dealers for outstanding payments will be given a list, which will show the real outstanding amount collectible from Regalia as five crores only. Deven, you will have to manage this. You will have to make sure that the amount invoiced over and above the true order is removed from the overdue amount when the reports go to the recovery team.

‘Once we raise an invoice, we will recognize it as a sale. We will ship shoes worth seven crores out of our factory. Shoes worth five crores will go to Regalia, while shoes worth two crores will go to our warehouse in Coimbatore—a warehouse that we will create only for these over-invoiced shoes. Our production unit manager will manage this. He has been briefed.’

A confused Deven had just uttered one word in the entire conversation, ‘Understood’.

‘Our costs remain the same. This fake sale wouldn’t cost us anything incremental, except the cost of production of the shoes, which is very low. Net–net, we would have increased revenue and kept costs flat. And all this leads to … leads to …?’ and he looked expectantly at Deven.

‘Increased profitability,’ Deven responded to the prompt, even as he and Aditya nodded their heads in sync.