Page 61 of Born in Sin (Phoenix #3)
Chapter Thirty-One
VIRAT
He sat in the crowded police station, people streaming in and out of the room and waited for his friend and contact, DIG Digvijay Rana to show up. A loud commotion in the outside room told him the man in question had just arrived.
He walked in, an imposing figure of a man in the trademark blue jeans, white shirt and aviator sunglasses. His perfectly groomed moustache was bristling with fury as he walked in.
“Fuckers,” he muttered. “All fucking useless chuths.”
“Present company excluded, I hope,” Virat said dryly.
“Vir mere yaar.” Digvijay threw himself into his chair which creaked alarmingly. “Why don’t you join the police force? You anyway do half our work for us and you’re smarter than most of these fucking chuths.” The last three words were bellowed so everyone in the outside room could hear.
“Listen.” Digvijay’s bald head gleamed in the overhead light as he leaned forward. “Thank you for the information on the Gurjars. We finally got that fucker, Mahesh Gurjar, in lockup.”
Virat inclined his head, smiling, as a peon bustled in with chai in tiny, paper cups.
“So, why are you here?” Digvijay asked, jumping to his feet and pacing the small room. The man couldn’t sit still for more than a minute. “You’re either giving me information or asking me for something. Which one is it?”
“It’s a bit of both,” Virat replied, watching the other man’s restless energy amp up. “Diggy.”
The cop stopped pacing, whatever he heard in Virat’s voice making him eye the other man warily.
“I think you should sit down,” Virat said quietly.
Digvijay groaned. “Fucker no! You also don’t be a chuth now! Please!”
“This will make your career,” Virat told him. “They’re big fish.”
“Or blow it to shit,” Digvijay grumbled, sitting down across from Virat and picking up the paper cup with the cooling chai. “Okay,” he said, taking a sip. “Tell me everything.”
He listened, patiently, to everything Virat told him, his frown getting deeper and deeper.
“So, at the moment, it’s all circumstantial.
We didn’t find anything on that Varun Gokhale when that car crash happened.
And the pressure from above was so much that we had to back off also.
” He smoothed his moustache out with his thumb and forefinger, deep in thought.
“Godbole!” he shouted, a second later almost making Virat bobble his tea. “Vikram ko bhej idhar.”
Virat and Digvijay were still working their way through the plan and its various loopholes when Inspector Vikram walked in. Virat hadn’t seen the man in months, not since the investigation into Varun’s death had gone cold. The Inspector did a double take when he saw him.
“Sir.” He stood at attention beside the table until Digvijay gestured him into a chair.
“Varun Gokhale,” Digvijay said.
Vikram seemed to deflate in front of Virat’s eyes at the name. “Sir, we didn’t find anything we could use.”
Digvijay held up a hand. “Take the file and a handful of trusted officers and join Sir.” He pointed to Virat. “You’re going to need legitimacy tomorrow night. Take him.”
Virat nodded. It was what he wanted. If everything went according to plan, then he was going to need the police standing by his side.
“There is one more thing,” Virat murmured.
“With you na there are hundred more things. Always.” Digvijay glowered. “What is it?”
“Mohan Mishra, a fifty eight year old man was found dead in his apartment in Andheri yesterday, no visible marks on him. I want to know what the autopsy report said.”
“It’s connected?” Digvijay watched him with shrewd eyes.
Virat nodded. “I think so.”
“Vikram.” Digvijay didn’t have to say anything more.
The Inspector stood up. “I’ll get the file, Sir.” He left without another word.
“It’s necessary kya to involve these celebrities and all?” Digvijay asked now. “They are only a headache, never of any help.”
“We wouldn’t be where we are without their help.”
Digvijay grinned. “You would have found a way.”
Vikram hustles back into the room with a file under his hand. “There was no autopsy,” he tells Virat briefly, clearly still not sure what to make of him. “He died peacefully in his sleep, a heart attack.”
Virat tensed. “Is the funeral over?”
“Yes. Cremation.”
Virat struggled not to let his frustration show. “Well, that’s that, I suppose,” he muttered. “Alright Diggy, I’ll keep you posted.”
“Vikram will keep me posted,” Digvijay said wryly. “You…” His voice trailed off and then he added, “Be careful, Vir. These guys are sharks.”
Virat smiled, a feral baring of teeth. “In the waters we swim in, Diggy, they’re all sharks. There are no small players.”
“But still, watch your back, my friend. I would miss you if you disappeared.”
“You mean like die peacefully in my sleep, a supposed heart attack?” Virat raised a hand in farewell. “That’s not the plan and for the first time in my life, I have big plans for myself.”
“And what are they?”
Virat smiled. “I’m going to step out of the shadows and embrace a life in the sunlight.”