“I give up,” said MGT in pain, and Santosh let go of his arm. It wasn’t a good idea. MGT swung around and planted an uppercut on his chin.
Santosh crumpled to the ground as MGT ran out the door.
Chapter 90
SHARMA ADJUSTED HIS belt, feeling exceedingly pleased with himself. His interrogation of Thakkar had gone very well indeed; the head of ResQ had given up the goods without Sharma needing to resort to some of the more tried and tested methods to be found in the Red Fort.
He sucked his teeth distastefully. No doubt Thakkar imagined he was somehow immune from prosecution. Perhaps he thought Jaswal would put in a call and get him off the hook. It didn’t really matter now. Sharma had the names he needed. All the information he required was his.
Installed in his office, he maneuvered himself behind his desk and dropped to his chair with a corpulent grunt. This was why he was the Police Commissioner, he reflected. Crisis management. That was what it was all about. Firefighting. Turning an awkward situation to your advantage.
He reached for the phone and dialed.
“Hello, Guha?” he said.
“Commissioner. What can I do for you?”
“Well, I have something for you. Some more information regarding our little band of medical buccaneers. But first, how are the preparations for your story going?”
Guha sighed. “Not especially well, truth be told.”
“Oh, really? What’s the holdup?”
“A group calling themselves the Coalition for Freedom of Speech have applied for an injunction. Somehow they got wind of our story and want to stop it.”
Sharma gave a low, throaty chuckle. “Such are the daily hurdles faced by a pioneering broadcaster such as yourself, Guha.”
“It’s serious. If the judge agrees with this coalition then my producer won’t allow me to show the story.”
“And the hearing is imminent, is it?”
“Very.”
“Well, I suppose this means you won’t want to hear what else I have to tell you then,” said Sharma airily.
“Will it strengthen my case with the judge?”
“That’s for you to decide.”
And Sharma gave Guha the final details, straight from Thakkar’s guts and poured into the journalist’s ear.
When he had finished he relaxed into his seat, allowing himself a smile. “And that’s it,” he concluded. “Let me know how you get on with the judge and give me advance warning when you plan to broadcast. I intend to time my sensational arrests accordingly. I trust DETV will be there to record the historic events?”
“First things first, Commissioner.”
Chapter 91
SHORTLY AFTER HIS conversation with Guha, Sharma’s phone rang again. This time it was Chopra, asking if he could pay him a visit, hinting that cigars and whisky would be on offer. And after a hard afternoon spent interrogating Thakkar and schmoozing Guha, that sounded a very attractive offer indeed.
Sharma informed Nanda he’d been summoned and took a car to the Lieutenant Governor’s opulent residence. There he was greeted by a housekeeper and led to the familiar study, where Chopra stood, indicating for him to settle into the same leather armchair in which he had spent so many happy hours.
He sat down. But Chopra remained standing, the welcome not as warm as usual, the atmosphere markedly less convivial.
“I have good news,” said Sharma, feeling uneasy but trying to behave as though nothing was amiss. “I have put into place a plan that will soon make life decidedly uncomfortable for our friend Jaswal.”
Chopra’s hands went to his hips. Big man though he was, Sharma was sitting and he felt small as the Lieutenant Governor towered over him. His eyes were fierce. His lips pursed. And when he spoke he roared: “I don’t give a fuck about Jaswal!”
“But—” spluttered Sharma.