“Please explain.”
“Unlike ResQ, which sells insurance policies to American clients and charges them low premiums to have their medical issues attended in India,” said Khan, “our company operates differently. For starters, we’re not an insurance company. We’re transplant specialists.”
“Transplant specialists for American clients?” asked Ibrahim.
“No. Our key market is the Middle East. Our patients belong to countries such as Saudi Arabia, Kuwait, Jordan, and the United Arab Emirates. Our medical infrastructure is entirely centralized at a spanking-new facility that we have established in Gurgaon. Patients from all over the Arab world come here for their procedures.”
“Why?”
“Most of these customers have no option but to travel abroad,” said Khan. “For example, transplants in the United Arab Emirates were legalized in 1993 but the law failed to include a medical definition of death, thus making it impossible to use organs from dead patients. The result was that no transplant operations could actually take place. Organ transplant infrastructure is virtually nonexistent in those markets.”
“Why should I consider it?” said Ibrahim, rearranging the skullcap on his head ever so slightly. “I’m making good money where I am. Inshallah, the money may also increase.”
“These are rich Arabs and hence we are dealing with a much more lucrative segment of customers—those who will pay high prices for these procedures. This also means that we can pay you double what ResQ pays.”
Ibrahim sipped his tea. In his mind, he was totting up the numbers and figuring out what double the rates would mean for him. And what it would mean to be finally free of that Nazi Arora.
“The ResQ network is a strong one,” he said. “They may come after me once they know I am working against them.”
“Not if you destroy them first,” said Khan.
Chapter 94
JUDGES AT THE Delhi High Court usually heard matters between ten in the morning and four in the afternoon. Weekends were off. But the high-powered appellants in this particular case had forced the bench to conduct a special sitting outside of normal working hours, that too on a weekend.
The appellants were a group calling themselves the Coalition for Freedom of Speech. They were worried that information had been received by DETV. DETV had already started airing commercials on the channel indicating that a major disclosure was on the way.
“What do you want?” asked the irritated judge. He had been forced to forego his Saturday bridge game in order to hear this matter, hence the annoyance.
“This may be privileged information,” argued the counsel representing the Coalition for Freedom of Speech. “We believe some of the information is fabricated and could grievously damage the reputations of parties involved. For all of the above reasons, we request an injunction preventing the news channel DETV from broadcasting any story based on this information.”
The judge looked at the counsel representing the appellants. “You call yourselves the Coalition for Freedom of Speech and here you are making an application to muzzle free speech?” he asked sarcastically.
“Your honor, freedom of speech comes with responsibility,” said their advocate. “If you give us an early hearing, we will convince you that it is not in the public interest to broadcast the story.”
The judge turned his attention to the lawyer representing DETV. “Any reasons why I should not grant an injunction?” he asked.
“Your honor,” began the counsel for DETV. “This application deserves to be treated with contempt. It is a barefaced attempt by vested interests to prevent the truth from emerging. If you do pass an order restraining DETV, you will be playing with freedom of expression and the liberty of the press.”
The graying judge looked at his wristwatch. If he passed interim orders, he could still make it to his bridge game, albeit a little late. Delay was the best way to play this.
“I need time to consider the facts of this case,” he said. “I am temporarily restraining DETV from airing the contents until Monday, at which time I shall hear detailed arguments to decide the case in finality.”
It also helped that the judge was a friend of the Chief Minister, Mohan Jaswal.
Chapter 95
GUHA SAT AT his desk surrounded by his team, the atmosphere despondent. They were still attempting to come to grips with the temporary restraining order.
“How could the judge pass such a stupid order?” asked Guha’s research assistant, chewing the end of her pencil vigorously.
“He was possibly intimidated by the powerful people who had applied for the restraining order,” said Guha, looking haggard. His customary blue jacket and red tie looked even more worn out than usual.
“Who?” asked Guha’s producer.
“Patel’s company Surgiquip,” said Guha. “Thakkar’s company ResQ … Those are obviously affected parties. I believe,” he continued, taking off his wire-framed glasses momentarily, “that it’s also possible Jaswal may have played a role by influencing the judge. After all, he is a close friend of Thakkar, and a negative disclosure about Thakkar would have serious political ramifications for Jaswal.
“In business and politics there are no permanent friends or enemies. There are only permanent interests. It is a common interest that would bring them on the same side.