Where Angels Prey (11 page)

“Are you seeing Aarthi Shetty?”

Prasad is blindsided by his aunt’s sudden query in the middle of a discussion on the family’s steel plant in Vizag. His personal life has always been a topic of speculation for the family, more so since his divorce. Given that his choice to marry Tracy Summers, who was American, had been a cause for lament within the family, one would have thought they’d welcome the divorce. But it ended up upsetting them even more since there hadn’t been a single divorce in the family until then. So what if the couples were plain unhappy or even having extramarital affairs on the side. Prasad’s decade-long marriage to Tracy had ended when she walked out on him two years earlier, taking their son, Udayan with her. He had often wondered if her disillusionment with the power broker that he had evolved into had been the cause of the breakup. Their relationship had, after all, stemmed from her deep admiration of his commitment to social transformation.

“Atha, what is this? Where did you get that idea?”

Krishnaveni gives him a knowing look.

“Although I live in Delhi, I have enough friends in Mumbai. I heard from a friend that you were with her at the success party of her latest film.”

Prasad rushes to clarify.

“Atha, it is true that I was at the party, but I was not plastered to her side like your contact told you. I know the financier of the film. I happened to be in Mumbai and he invited me to it”

“I didn’t know you hobnobbed with film folks too!”

Nageshwara Garu decides to end the conversation by dropping his napkin on the table and prepares to get up.

“Krishnaveni, will you please have coffee sent to the study? Prasad and I have to catch up on some business matters. You’d get bored out of your mind.”

Nageshwara Garu rises from the table and walks toward the door; Prasad follows him.

“I don’t need to listen in, as long as you remember that Chinna is my favourite nephew—more like a son—and I want his interests protected at all costs!”

Krishnaveni’s astuteness is not surprising, given that she has been married to a businessman-turned-politician for more than three decades. Besides, royal families are most often hotbeds of intrigue.

Nageshwara Garu gives her a curt nod and walks out of the room. Prasad gives his aunt a hug before quickly following him out.

Once they are settled in the study, and the bearer who brings them coffee leaves, Nageshwara Garu loses the final thread of patience that he has been holding on to.

“What the hell is going on, Prasad? How did you allow things to get to this point?”

Prasad feels like a child called into the headmaster’s room for an explanation. He can’t help feeling a little irritated by the unfairness of the situation, considering that in their case, the headmaster is almost as culpable as he.

“Mamaiyya, you know how it is. These things just happen all of a sudden, and the media just loves such stories.”

“Didn’t hear you complain about the media last year when you were hailed as one of the top influential personalities in the country’s social sector!”

Prasad is mildly amused. His uncle is clearly not happy about the spotlight being on him.

“Mamaiyya, there is trouble brewing. And we need to find a way to get out of this mess.”

Nageshwara Garu responds with an incredulous look.

“You tell me this when Rajendra Panisetty has tabled a motion in parliament to discuss this ‘mess’ as you call it! We are coalition partners with the party that is in power in Andhra Pradesh too, just in case you have forgotten.”

Prasad runs his hand through his hair, beginning to feel tired.

“I am sorry, but, as you know, SAMMAAN is not the only MFI that is in a mess. The entire sector is in the midst of crisis.”

“Possibly, but SAMMAAN is the largest of them all, and the only MFI with a huge public issue...and the only one that is headed by my nephew—which makes me directly answerable!”

Prasad lets out a heavy sigh.

“Mamaiyya, this is getting us nowhere. And more importantly, I have some bad news of my own. There is an internal crisis brewing...something that could blow up in our faces. Venkatmurthy is all set to stage a coup.”

Nageshwara Garu’s face darkens in anger.

“What are you talking about? How could you allow that to happen?”

Prasad’s face turns deep red.

“I am sorry, it was a miscalculation on my part. He was giving us more trouble than support. But I really did not expect this kind of resistance from him.”

Nageshwara Garu glares at him.

“Clearly timing is not your strength these days, as proven with the fire!”

Prasad looks stricken.

“Mamaiyya… that will remain the greatest regret of my life.”

“Your regret is of no consequence, it changes nothing. What is the status of the investigations? I hope everything is being taken care of!”

Prasad merely nods. A sense of recrimination has clogged his throat. The intent, the consequence and then the cover ups—he is growing increasingly tired of it all. Would it be such a bad thing to let the tiger swallow him after all? He wonders if the clients who were driven to suicide had felt something similar.

“I cannot afford any scandal now, Prasad. There is talk of cabinet expansion, and I am pressing for a cabinet elevation. I’ve worked hard to get where I am, and I don’t want anything spoiling it now.”

Hasn’t that been his story too? Not wanting anything to spoil all that he had achieved? In the heady pursuit of success and accomplishment, he allowed himself to be driven further and further way from the ideals that he had started out with.

“There is only so much I can do for you right now, whatever Krishnaveni may say. I also need to save my own reputation.”

Prasad feels a surge of resentment.

“If SAMMAAN and I go down, a lot of other things will too. The loss will be all round...be it reputation or money. I am sure you don’t want that happening, Mamaiyya.”

Nageshwara Garu looks discomfited. His eyes dart around, as if to make sure they are not being overheard.

“I don’t need your reminder, Prasad. I am quite aware of everything!”

Of course he would be, Prasad thinks to himself. Several hundred crores belonging to him and a few of his political colleagues had also been routed via SAMMAAN to several other businesses, including the film industry. It is surely in his interest to bail them all out!

Nageshwara Garu’s phone rings.

“Hello, tell me, Jagadeesh?”

Prasad wonders if it is the party MLA from Warangal, Jagadeesh Eluru.

After a brief conversation, Nageshwara Garu thanks Jagadeesh for alerting him and ends the call. His face looks stormy.

“Prasad, when is your flight?”

“I’m taking the afternoon flight back, Mamaiyya.” “Postpone your return by a few days, and stay inside the
house at all times!”

With that, he rushes out, leaving Prasad baffled.

The shrill ring of the telephone interrupts Badri’s musings about ways to cheer up his wife. Disgruntled, he picks up the phone and mechanically reels out a greeting. It is an inspector from the Parichemam police station, asking to speak to the Superintendent of Police of the district, Vishal Singh. Recalling that the SP is in a meeting and has asked for all calls to be put on hold, Badri informs the inspector of his unavailability. The inspector seems panicked and insists that he needs to speak to the SP immediately on an urgent matter. After some hesitation, Badri puts him through. The SP seems angry at the interruption; the inspector informs him that there has been a suicide in Parichemam village. The SP grumbles about how it has become a routine affair and asks him to collect data on which MFIs the woman is indebted to as well as the loan amount. The DM expects a report with all such information to be submitted to her office. The inspector hastens to clarify that it is not a debt-related suicide—ostensibly, at least. The man who has been found hanging from a tree on the outskirts of the village is a henchman of Bhava Reddy. There is a lot of unrest in the village and the inspector fears a law and order situation.

He is interrupted by some disturbance in the line and the call gets disconnected. Badri Prakash tries to call the inspector back, but to no avail. Meanwhile, commotion breaks out at the police station as the SP strides out of his office, followed by his subordinates. Badri Prakash immediately rises and salutes, even as he knows that the SP has probably not even registered his presence.

While walking out, SP Vishal Singh contemplates the possible law and order issues that could arise as a consequence of the incident.

Without waiting for the car to come to a complete halt, SP Vishal Singh jumps off and marches towards the spot where the cops from the local station have been trying their best to control the steadily swelling crowd. Vishal is surprised to see the numbers and wonders if the news has spread to the neighbouring villages too.

The local cops rush to salute him while the subordinates who have accompanied him try to clear a passage through the crowd for him.

After almost a decade of service, nothing much fazes Vishal. He takes in the sight of the man’s body hanging from the banyan tree. The accompanying photographer starts clicking from different angles, while Vishal is briefed on the background of the dead man, Ramaiyya.

Unpopular in the village for being a drunkard and a bully who picked fights all the time, Ramaiyya’s stars had been on the ascendant ever since he joined Bhava Reddy’s band of men almost a decade ago. He slowly rose through the ranks and is said to have led several assignments over the last couple of years. He is survived by a wife and four children.

The body is slowly brought down. Vishal’s sharp eyes don’t fail to notice the matted hair above his temples, clotted with what looks like blood. There are also bruises on his arms and his shirt is torn in a few places.

A group of women start wailing loudly while beating their chests. When one of them tries to go towards the body, the cops hold her back. Ramaiyya’s body is loaded on to a stretcher and carried to an ambulance.

As Vishal prepares to confer with the local inspector on the investigation, he is surprised to see a crowd squatting on the path to the ambulance, blocking its exit. A distraught woman argues with the cops, who try to persuade the crowd to clear the way. One of the cops points in his direction and the woman starts running towards him, while the rest of the crowd refuses to budge.

“Sir, she is Ramaiyya’s wife.”

Just as the local inspector warns Vishal, the woman cuts through the cordon around him and throws herself at his feet. Vishal moves back instantly while one of his subordinates barks out a harsh rebuke.

The woman starts weeping loudly, begging him for justice.

“Please stop crying, Amma. I understand you have suffered a loss, but you cannot obstruct police procedure. The corpse needs to be taken for a post-mortem.”

Vishal appeals to the woman, hoping to make her see reason. But her weeping only gets louder.

“Sir, please don’t cut my husband’s body to pieces! Let him go in peace.”

“Amma, the post-mortem has to be conducted if we are to determine the cause of his death.”

At this, the woman stops sobbing and draws a deep breath before spitting out her words.

“You don’t have to cut him to find out how he died. I will tell you...he was killed!”

“Amma, you cannot make wild allegations like that. We cannot conclude anything without proof. Only the post-mortem can reveal the actual cause of death.”

The woman’s eyes flash in anger.

“These are not wild allegations. It is nothing but the truth. Bhava Reddy killed my husband because he had become a liability. He was going to turn approver in the kidnapping case!”

Vishal looks at the local inspector for clarification.

“Sir, she is referring to the kidnapping of the minor girls that happened a few days ago. But there is no evidence of any sort…”

“The case that has to do with the SAMMAAN loan recovery agents?”

The inspector nods reluctantly.

“Sir, the parents had borrowed from other sources too. So we cannot confirm it was to do with SAMMAAN.”

“Any evidence to prove that it had nothing to do with SAMMAAN?”

The inspector breaks into a sweat and shakes his head.

“No sir, no evidence.”

Vishal turns to the woman.

“Amma, I think you are extremely distraught at the moment. Come and meet me at my office in a few days, after all the rituals are done. I promise you I will conduct a fair investigation and if there is evidence to prove your allegation, the guilty will be duly punished.”

“Sir, a poor woman’s good wishes will be with you if you ensure that justice is delivered. My husband has been murdered because he would have turned approver. I had promised DM Amma that he would give evidence!”

Vishal is surprised by this disclosure.
She knows DM
V
e
ena Mehra?

“You’ve met the DM?”

The woman nods vigorously.

“Yes sir, a few nights ago, I went to her bungalow...you can ask her. She will vouch for me. Please help us, sir, I will give evidence in any court of law.”

Vishal looks thoughtful as he assures her of his support.

She picks up the receiver and greets him brusquely.

“Madam, SP Vishal Kumar is here to meet you.”

Veena frowns as she tries to recollect if they have a scheduled meeting or if she had summoned him on some count.

“Have we given him an appointment?”

“No, madam, but he says the matter is very urgent and cannot wait.”

The creases on Veena’s forehead deepen. What could have possibly happened for him to be so insistent?

“Please have him take a seat in the ante room, I will be there in a few minutes.”

After replacing the receiver, she politely excuses herself for the next ten minutes.

As she enters the ante room, Vishal rises from his seat and salutes her smartly.

She nods in greeting and indicates for him to take his seat as she sits on the sofa across from him.

“Yes, Vishal, what was so important that you had to tear me away from my meeting?”

Without explanation or apology, Vishal gets straight to the point.

“Madam, do you know a woman from Parichemam village, Vijaya?”

Veena closes her eyes, trying to put a face to the name. A tear-stained face with imploring eyes, dishevelled hair and a thin frame wrapped in a faded synthetic sari come to mind.

“Of course, she barged into my bungalow a few nights ago, told me her husband was a henchman with Bhava
Reddy.”

“He was found hanging from a tree this morning, madam...a case of suicide, on the face of it. But I have my doubts.”

Veena’s eyes widen in shock.

“Vishal, she told me he was involved in the recent kidnapping case involving SAMMAAN and promised to get him to make a confessional statement, and begged for lenience in return.”

Vishal sighs loudly.

“This is such a pity, madam. We have not been able to lay our hands on Bhava Reddy so far simply because there hasn’t been strong enough evidence to seek his conviction. No one has been willing to testify against him.”

Veena shakes her head.

“It is not just Bhava Reddy, it is also the powers behind him. Ramaiyya’s testimony could have really helped, particularly in the SAMMAAN case. The crisis in the microfinance sector is proving to be a huge problem for the government—the suicides, the coercive debt recovery methods...”

Vishal nods in agreement.

“Things have been getting out of hand for a while now. Bhava Reddy’s nephew, Chiranjeevi is backing SAMMAAN’s coercive practices. His relative, Gopal Reddy works with SAMAAN.”

“I think there is more to it than mere support, Vishal. There must be a transactional relationship of some sort. Bhava Reddy is no fool. And I won’t be surprised if the trail extends beyond him.”

“Ramaiyya would have been very useful, madam. He could have provided answers to a lot of questions—clearly why they did away with him!”

Veena looks at him sharply.

“Is that what you think it is?”

“I strongly suspect foul play. There were bruise marks on his body. We will have to wait for the post-mortem report, of course. The wife is convinced, though.”

Veena considers his words.

“I think you should talk to her once she is more composed.”

“I think she could be a possible witness; her inputs could help us in our investigation.”

“I need to update MR on this.”

Veena notices Vishal’s puzzled look.

“The Principal Secretary, Maruti Rao. He heads the committee constituted by the CM to look into the crisis. He has instructed all the DMs to keep him constantly updated on any news related to the sector.”

Just then, the door opens and Nilanjan enters.

“Madam, the Warangal District DM Subba Rao’s PA is on the line. The DM wants to speak to you. I told them I would check with you and call back.”

Veena frowns.

“Is there a pending issue with them, Nilanjan? Why are they suddenly calling?”

“No, madam, no pending issues that I know of.”

“I’ll take the call here. Put him through.”

Nilanjan nods before leaving the room.

Veena looks at Vishal.

“Any Naxal-related issues?”

“I really doubt that, madam.”

The phone rings.

Veena picks up the receiver and greets Subba Rao warmly.

“Hello Subba, hope all is well. I heard you wanted to speak to me?”

As she listens, her eyes widen.

“That is a big step! Have you discussed this with MR?”

Vishal wonders at the air of suppressed excitement about her. After a while, Veena finally ends the call and smiles broadly at Vishal.