Devil in Pinstripes (11 page)

N
aik let out a deep sigh as he moved away his hand from Amit’s shoulder and sat down on the wooden plank next to him. Amit’s eyes followed him in earnest. It was as if they were pleading. Their helplessness was evident. The eyebrows shrunk around them as if they were holding the weight of the entire face and preventing it from falling apart. The folds on his forehead looked like the cracks in the dry lands of remote Thar Desert. Chanda’s hand was on his knee. She could feel it shivering in anxiety. Worry was corroding her from within, but she had to keep a facade of courage, else Amit would have broken down. She had never seen him so stressed.

The anxiousness was not because he was sitting in the police station. It was because he did not know why he was there. Naik had not told him about it.

‘I am heading back to office. I will get the CEO to speak to the state home minister. We need to get someone at that level involved in this.’

‘Why isn’t anyone telling me what happened?’

‘It’s quite murky Amit. It’s unfortunate that you have been brought into this. But it is not your doing.’

‘What is that damn “IT”?’ Amit was screaming now. Blood-shot eyes and veins throbbing around his temples made it evident that he was very close to losing his mental balance. Hours had passed since he came to the police station, and no one had yet told him what the issue was.

‘The dead guy is haunting us Amit.’

‘Who? . . . The same guy?’

‘Even his family is dead. You know that.’

‘Oh shit! This is exactly what I was fearing. Now what?’

‘His father has filed a case in which he has also named you. This has the blessings of that state’s chief minister.’

‘Who is Jai Shankar Ram? The warrant mentioned someone by this name as the complainant.’

‘He is the father.’

‘What are the charges?’

‘Abetment to suicide.’

Amit’s hand went up and clutched his forehead. ‘Oh my God! But what have I done? I don’t even know him. I haven’t even met him. How can I abet a suicide? Shit man! This is ridiculous! What will happen now? Please do something. Get me out of this.’ And he looked at Chanda, sitting next to him. She looked worried sick. ‘This could be a bad one,’ he told her. It was becoming unmanageable.

‘I will try and move a petition today. I don’t want to give you unrealistic commitments. Highly unlikely for us to get you out of this place today. We are being drawn into a political quagmire and you know as well as I do that THAT is not good news.’

‘What the hell, Naik? I am a senior vice president in the New York International banking group. No one can treat me like this. I can’t be held responsible for doing what the organisation expects me to do.’ After screaming at the top of his voice, he realised what he had done. Everyone in the large hall was looking at him. Being the centre of attraction and that too in a place of ill-repute wasn’t a particularly exciting proposition. Holding his head with both hands as if it would fall off if he won’t, a sudden silence followed as he sank back in his seat. His back arched over and his head came to rest between his knees, his palms still clutching his face.

He looked up again. First at Naik, then at Chanda. And then towards his right, where beyond the pillars, and rows of tables with pot bellied constables sitting behind them, he could see numerous semi-rusted rods of steel. Behind those were faces – extremely intimidating, unshaven and rowdy-like. And then he saw a face, which looked like his own – a shrunken face, an inch of beard on it, unwashed with long dirty hair untidily flowing all over his face. He was terror-stricken at the thought of him behind those very bars. Thankfully, he was shaken back to reality. Rakesh Srivastav was standing by his side. Hand on his shoulder. ‘Let’s go,’ he said.

Amit got up from the bench, Chanda too followed. He looked towards Naik. ‘I will come back Amit. Have patience. I will find a way out of this.’ Amit just looked at him without saying anything.

‘I will be back . . . for sure,’ whispered Naik or so it sounded to Amit, as the prison door opened and he was shoved in. Thankfully, he got an empty cell. There was no one else there.

He turned around and looked at Chanda as she followed Naik out of the police station. There was no one with him. He was all alone. Why did this happen? Why was God doing this to him?

A
ditya had just returned from an international strategy conference where all the countries presented their five-year strategic plan. It was a forum where potential opportunities were discussed and investments identified.

The presentation by the India team had not gone off well. Aditya was pulled up by the board for the slow integration of NFS into mainstream NYB and also the lacklustre pace of growth for the NBFC in India. World over, sub-prime lending was growing big, and everyone was looking at NFS to grow that business in India.

Lack of business push at NFS was the only complaint of the regional management team, which overshadowed the growth of NYB in all other areas. In all the earlier global meets, Aditya had been a star. For him, something like this was nothing short of loss of face. He wanted to get away from the conference and come back to India, and just blast his way through. Fortunately, for people back in India, he couldn’t possibly do so.

One morning, soon after, Amit was driving when he got a call from Aditya’s office. ‘He wants to see you now.’ It was Aditya’s secretary. And when Aditya sent an instruction, no one argued. Amit, who was going to meet a client, called up his relationship manager and asked her to step in for him. A minute later, Amit’s Ford Ikon was ripping its way through Mumbai’s crazy traffic and making its way towards the main office of NYB. In forty minutes, he was standing in front of Aditya’s cabin. ‘Very fowl mood’ Melinda said when she looked at Amit. Aditya saw him there and motioned to him to come in.

Clearly, he was in a belligerent mood. His body language was aggressive and he was moving around extremely antagonistically in his room. Definitely not the normal calm and composed Aditya that he knew.

‘Do you know what all we have done in the bank in the last three years?’

Amit just nodded.

‘Did you know that we have shown the fastest growth in revenue in the entire Asia Pacific region?’

‘Yes Aditya,’ Amit nodded again.

‘Did you know that our cost saving initiatives have been spoken about at group level?’

‘Hmmm . . .’ with another vigorous nod from Amit.

‘Did you know that all our audits have been very good this year?’

‘Yes.’

‘Yet the fuckers in the regional office say that we have wasted the last three years and they will not give us any fresh investments.’

Amit knew him very well . . . well enough to know that when the boss is in a bad mood, keep your thoughts under control and do not speak. Aditya wanted to let out some steam and that’s exactly what he was doing.

‘They are saying that we have screwed around with NFS and that we haven’t really internalised it the way we should have.’

‘Hmm . . .’
What else could he have said?

‘They claim that the growth in NFS is not the same as what they would have wanted. What can I do if those fuckers at NFS don’t listen to us. They just do their own thing . . . implement their own strategies and do not look for synergies with the larger bank.’

‘I agree Aditya.’

‘Your wife works there. Does she say anything about their efficiency and strategy? Doesn’t she come and tell you that they run a
“lala ki dukaan”?’

‘No Aditya, she hasn’t complained yet.’

‘I have told the region, if you want me to deliver in the NBFC, then give me complete control in NFS. Make those fuckers report only to me. I will change the place.’

At that time, NFS was a group entity of New York International Bank; however, it functioned completely independently. The managing director of NFS reported to the regional head of the consumer finance business based in the regional office in Singapore and not to the India CEO of NYB, which was Aditya. The MD though had a dotted reporting to Aditya strictly for administrative reasons.

Aditya, one would say, had indirect control over the company on account of his influence as a senior in the trade, in the industry and in the organisation. But that was it. His say in the running of the day-to-day affairs of the company was restricted to providing strategic oversight.

‘And thankfully, now they have agreed to make this change over the next six to twelve months. By the end of this year, NFS will be folded into NYB from a reporting perspective. This has been committed to me.’

Why is he telling me all this? What do I have to do with this?
wondered Amit. Aditya went on for another fifteen minutes making caustic comments on the way the financial services NBFC was being run and how he would change it if he took charge of the company and what changes they would have to do starting now.

‘I need your help in this.’ Amit looked at him, unable to comprehend the meaning of this statement. The look on Amit’s face meant ‘HOW?’

Aditya understood his question. ‘I want you to move into that company.’

‘What?’ Amit nearly exclaimed. He was surprised. Shocked would be a correct description of his reaction.

Blissfully ignorant of his reaction, Aditya went on, ‘You need to be my eyes and ears in that organisation. Once you move there, I will know what goes on there and what needs to be done.’

‘But Aditya . . .’ Amit began.

‘Look Amit, you have worked with me long enough to realise that I value people who stand by me. Have faith in me. I have never let my people down.’

‘Aditya . . .’

Again, he was not able to finish his sentence. ‘Amit, I will use my influence on the managing director and move you to a position of stature and authority there. If you have to be my man there, you need to move into the senior management team of NFS. I will work out something for you. Your career is my responsibility. Let me manage it for you.’

‘Aditya, Chanda works there. How can I work in the same organisation as her? Won’t it be an issue with compliance?’ Amit couldn’t think of anything better.

‘That’s fine son. I will fix that. As long as the two of you work for different bosses, it should be fine.’

Amit didn’t know how to respond. When in doubt, remain silent, was the mantra he had learnt.

Being perceptive was one of Aditya’s key strengths. ‘You don’t seem to be excited about it.’

Amit didn’t respond.

‘What if I mentioned to you that it will be a business manager’s role?’ Aditya had expected Amit to be thrilled about it. Amit didn’t show any emotion. It hadn’t hit him yet. ‘They are looking for a mortgage business head. Hari called me yesterday, asking for some help. Chander, their head of mortgage business has quit, and Hari wants to move fast on a replacement.’ Thanks to Chanda working there, Amit knew that Hari was the managing director of NFS.

Amit looked at him. There was a glow in his eyes. Was he beginning to get interested? Aditya couldn’t say with surety. ‘Wasn’t that the job you wanted to take in GE?’ He nodded.

‘Now that’s up for grabs in NFS. How does it sound?’ Amit’s lips began to curl upwards, the traction, pushing his eyebrows up. He was now beginning to smile. His dream was about to be realised. Only the other day, Chanda had asked him about Aditya’s outstanding promise of giving him a business to run. Wasn’t Aditya an awesome guy to work for?

Seeing him still thinking, Aditya stood up, patted him on the shoulder and said, ‘Think about it, my friend. Opportunities like these don’t come all the time. Puneet Singhania has been after my life, chasing me for a move too. I can give him the job if you don’t take it. Let me know by tomorrow. I have to head to a meeting now. I will wait for your call.’ And he walked out of the room, leaving Amit in his cabin thinking about what had just hit him. That was Aditya. Not only had he teased Amit into getting interested, he had also handed him out the threat of others being in the fray if he delayed the decision for too long.

‘Wow! That’s great. You and me in the same organisation, in the same office! We can go and come back together,’ exclaimed Chanda when Amit told her about the conversation.

‘But I am not comfortable.’

‘With what?’ Chanda couldn’t fathom the reason for Amit’s discomfort.

‘With Aditya’s intent in sending me there.’

‘You are thinking too much. What if he had only told you that he is giving you the mortgage business to run? Wouldn’t you have been interested?’

‘Yes, but now I know I am being given the job, not because I am good or deserve it, but because Aditya wants me to be his man there in what he sees as the enemy camp.’

‘Why do you view it as the enemy camp?’

‘My boss views it so. I don’t.’

‘Yeah. Boss wants you to go and die fighting the enemy. Give me a break Amit. Can’t you see this opportunity staring at you in the face?’

Amit didn’t respond. He thought for a while and then looked up. ‘What does Chander do?’

‘He runs it now.’

‘Runs what?’

‘Mortgages, of course.’

‘I know that, you idiot. Aditya told me about it. How is it currently being managed there, in the NFS structure?’

‘Currently mortgages are run out of the branch network. In every location, the branch manager is the king. He is responsible for business development. He has a team below him for selling personal loans, two wheeler loans, and even mortgages. All these guys report to the branch manager who manages everything at a location.’

‘OKAY . . . and the branch managers?’

‘The branch managers report to the regional managers who report in turn to Gowri.’

‘What all does he manage . . . your good old Gowri?’

‘All activities in the branch come under him. Sales for personal loans, consumer durable loans, auto loans and mortgage loans.’

‘Where does that leave Chander?’

‘Chander manages it at a country level from a product perspective. Though the sales channels have a reporting relationship with him too, he ends up managing most of the backend. Gowri’s link with the branch managers is too strong for him to get into. He doesn’t run the business . . . for all practical purposes he just runs the product.’

‘Who is accountable for the business financials? For the revenues and the profits?’

‘Gowri.’

‘Big guy!’

‘But wait . . . how are they going to position this to him?’ Chanda questioned.

‘Who . . . him?’

‘Gowri . . .’

‘What about positioning?’

‘Arre, if they make you the business manager, won’t they be taking away a business from him and giving it to you? As I said, Chander is only a product manager. Gowri runs the sales channels, the way he wants.’

‘Oh, you mean he will get pissed?’

‘Ya, because part of what you are going to do falls in Chander’s area and a significant part lies under Gowri. He is bound to get mighty pissed.’

‘That’s Aditya’s problem. If I agree to move, it’s for Aditya and Hari to manage. Not me.’ Chanda agreed with this logic of Amit and the issue was dropped.

‘So, will you be moving to the vacant cabin on the corporate floor?’ The fourth cabin from Gowri’s room, right next to Kakkar’s room was vacant. Chanda knew that.

‘If I agree to move, that is.’

‘Whenever I come up to see Gowri, I can also come and have coffee with you.’ Chanda was getting ambitious.

‘And we could go together for lunch . . . God! Are you out of your mind, woman? That would amount to overexposure!’

‘OKAY. I will not even look at you in office. Happy?’ Chanda feigned anger.

‘OKAY baba. I will have lunch with you everyday. Now smile.’

And then the discussion moved to other routine stuff. In essence, Chanda’s excitement about Amit moving to NBFC made taking the decision only simpler for Amit.

The next day he walked up to Aditya and said. ‘I will take it Aditya.’

‘I am glad Amit. You have made the right choice. Do not worry. I am firmly behind you.’ And then, as Amit moved out of the room, he broke into a smile. He had managed to plant his devil into the enemy territory. Natasha would have understood his game plan. But Amit didn’t realise that he was being made the guinea pig in Aditya’s battle to win over NFS and bring it under his control.

In end January 2003, Amit moved to NFS as the mortgage business head.