‘I am sorry; I could not meet you the last time. There was party work and I was really busy.’ Mr Tudu sounded really apologetic. ‘Tell me what you wish to know.’

‘We were here to investigate about the murder of Prof. Rameshwar. He was a widely respected man in these areas. Did you ever meet him?’

He rose up and showed them the picture of both him and Prof. Rameshwar where he was presenting an honorarium to him on behalf of the state government.

‘He was a great man. Prof. Rameshwar worked hard for the upliftment of the local people. His death was sad news for everybody at this place. I respected him a lot.’

‘What is this paper?’ asked Rohan looking at the picture.

‘It’s a token of appreciation from the state Government,’ replied Mr Tudu.

‘Prof. Rameshwar worked with the people to stop the mining companies from extracting coal. You are in favour of letting them mine in your constituency. Could you elaborate on this?’

‘Prof. Rameshwar had his own reasons. But they were backward. India is one of the fastest growing economies of the world. Its energy needs have to be met. The power sector needs fuel like coal to produce continuous power for our economy to function. I and my party men realize this need. And it is not that we are only focusing on coal. Slowly the other forms of energy will gain in strength. But how can we stop mining all of a sudden. I think this demand is unjustified.’

‘But the country has laws and processes have to be followed. A number of villages including the one where the professor was living will be displaced if mining happens. Have proper provisions been made to compensate the victims?’

‘The companies have followed all the procedures. Compensation packages have been announced in provision with the government procedure. Some of the best companies of the world have worked to make this happen.’

‘Still the people of the village are not willing to part with their land. There must be some problem with the compensations announced.’

‘Yes, there have been some demands which have not been met. But they are exorbitant. The companies are giving enough to the locals to part with their land.’

‘You were talking about sources of energy. Why doesn’t your government put higher thrust on renewables? After all, the professor had been voicing his support for installing biomass based plants in these forests for a long time.’

‘Biomass. Why is biomass needed when we have coal?’ smiled Tudu.

‘But biomass based plants are good for the environment.’

At this Mr Tudu burst out into rhetoric about how these proposed coal power plants will produce employment for the local youth which has been wasting its energy in violent protests. He also stressed that the coal mining leases were given after consultation with the local people detailing how those were done. He spoke as if he was giving a speech in the parliament. Both Lavie and Rohan were almost bored to death listening to him. It looked as if Mr Tudu had memorized what he had to speak, such was his fluency.  Finally when he had finished, he picked up his tea cup which had turned cold and drank the whole thing in a gulp.

‘I knew Boudi as well. Both of us grew up in the same village and are of similar age. I respect her a lot for what she has done for the children of this area’ said Mr Tudu as he put down the empty teacup. Rohan felt a strong urge to slap him.

‘I have heard that,’ he replied dryly.

‘It’s time for my lunch now. Is there anything else you would like to ask me?’

‘Is Mr Nehru thinking of you as the next Chief Ministerial candidate?’

Mr Tudu frowned at the question but quickly resumed his normal self.

‘I haven’t heard of anything regarding this. Suhasini never told me anything. In any case I will do what the party high command asks me to do.’

‘One last question,’ she said. Mr Tudu made a motion of his hands asking her to continue.

‘A local reporter by the name of Bansiram has been locked up at the Bokaro jail. There is absolutely no case against him. The money which was found in his office has already been proven belonging to a local businessman. We would request you to help us release him from jail.’

Tudu thought for a moment, slightly smiling to himself. Then he nodded his head, ‘why do you have to talk in support of somebody like that? These are local reporters, who have to be taught lessons so that they remain within their limits,’ he then started laughing. ‘Stay away from all of this.’

Her blood boiled on hearing this. But she stayed under control and said sternly. ‘We cannot stay away from all this. Bansi worked for us. He is innocent. You cannot punish someone for bringing out the truth.’

Tudu stared at her not sure of his reaction. He then looked at Rohan expecting him to say something to Lavie. Not finding any reaction, he smiled and said, ‘I will look into it. Now I have to leave for lunch.’

‘Thank you for your time, Mr Tudu.’

*

Suhasini was agitated. Some of her affiliates had been complaining. The magic formula, which she had given to Mr Chisti and few others had made her their lucky charm. Her clients loved her more than anything else, since the day she had been involved in their business interests. A big chunk of her income came from mining barons and she had been helping them with the bids in auctions, suggesting exact numbers that they should bid and also how to bid through different channels to have big gains. In the past four years, she had expanded her business. Her suggestions and planning had been immaculate, producing results for her beneficiaries. ‘You are a gem,’ her clients would say. ‘Where were you all these years!’

The government had halted the recent iron ore mining auctions for the reasons of logistics. But they had been questioning few bidders for their bids submitted till now. An officer with CBI had got in touch with few bidders asking them the reason for their bid value. And these bidders wanted to know from Suhasini the reason for recommendation of the bids so they could answer the investigating officers. She gave them a reason which was both absurd and funny.

*

‘Did you notice he called her Suhasini?’ Rohan asked her in the car.

‘So what?’ Lavie was already fuming. Her mind was on Bansi and how to get him out.

‘And you would not have seen her in the picture as well?’

She looked at him in surprise.

‘Mr Tudu is from Anand Nehru’s party. She does help him in his party matter sometimes. So visiting Bokaro for party matters may not be a big deal. Does Suhasini accompany Anand at his meetings?’

‘Sometimes. Are you hiding something from me?’

‘Yes.’

‘Which is? Tell me fast.’

‘Suhasini Nehru, before marriage was Suhasini Haldar, daughter of Major Haldar who was killed in Naxal attacks near Bokaro.’

‘What does this mean?’

‘Nothing much for now, until we know something.’

‘Why are you after her, I do not know anything that connects her to all this.’

‘I am not after her, it’s just that something the agent said to me makes me think of her all the time.’

‘Are you going to be clearer? I have already spent enough time on this Suhasini thing without knowing the reason.’

‘My agent always talked about Abideh as a powerful person. One day she told me that Abideh’s husband is one of the most powerful man in the country. This got me thinking. And when the link between the auctions and Suhasini was clear, my doubt fell on her. Anand Nehru is definitely a powerful man. But I was still not sure of the reason. I looked at her history and when I saw the connection between her father’s murder and Naxals, it all made sense to me.’

 ‘The agent could just have diverted you. They know how to do it, tried it on me a few times.’

‘Maybe, but Anand Nehru had visited Dehradun on the pretext of attending a University function few years back. We don’t know if he went to DEAL. If he did, she would have come to know about IMAGED through him. Is there any way we can know about this?’ Rohan asked himself.

‘Why is it so important?’

‘She needed to know about the technology. If he went to DEAL, he would have talked about it to his wife’

‘We need to talk to my sources.’ said Lavie. ‘Let me try.’

‘The field is all yours,’ said Rohan.

They reached Mala’s home. She had to take them to Jalaram, who had the documents of Prof. Rameshwar. Jalaram was sitting outside his hut staring at the trees in front, both his hands clasped tightly near his head.

‘What’s happening Jalaram?’ Mala shouted when he spotted her, ‘no work today?’ He smiled, ‘until the court order comes, we have to wait. My son has taken the cattle away for rearing. I am waiting for him.’ He rose up after noticing Rohan and Lavie with folded hands. Rohan went up and caught both his hands.

‘How have you been?’

‘Good,’ he grinned. ‘I got all the documents of Baba. It is inside my house.’ He rose up and led them into the hut. On a bare wooden bed, broken in certain parts and nailed at some places lay a heap of papers. Rohan sat and searched. In a few minutes he got what he was looking for. He showed it to Lavie and she gave a slight nod of her head.

‘Stay for tea,’ Jalaram insisted.

Sitting within the smell of cattle feed, Rohan mentioned his mother’s words to Jalaram and he nodded his head with a smile. His mind was on Prof. Rameshwar.

‘Will you find the reason for his death?’

‘Pretty soon,’ he kept a hand on Jalaram’s shoulder.

‘The deity will make sure that the culprit will suffer.’ There were tears in Jalaram’s eyes. Rohan hugged him. After having tea, they left him for Bokaro.

 They went to the police station to meet Bansi. He smiled when he found them visiting.

‘I am not surprised. The government has its way to punish those who write against them,’ he said. ‘The sad part is my newspaper will have to be closed. Our funds have completely dried up. Nobody would be willing to give us any sort of advertisements.’

‘It will not happen, we will make sure of it. Have you written what I had asked you about?’

‘Yes,’ he handed her a paper. It was his story which her boss had consented to publish in their Sunday edition paper. It was going to be full page coverage.

‘Once this gets out,’ she showed the paper to Rohan, ‘Tudu and his stooges will come running to the police station to get you out.’

Bansi nodded his head. ‘I hope you are right Madam. But things at our place are always complicated, never turn out the way we think they will.’

*

‘Now, I think I can tell you how the two murders took place,’ Rohan turned to Lavie on the bus as they were heading to Kolkata from Bokaro.

‘Yes, I am dying to know it from you, even though I think I have got it!’

Rohan smiled at her. Lavie had been a great companion to have in this sudden turn of events in his life. She was meticulous in her work, spoke economically and had a sense of humour which he could relate to. He dreaded the company of verbose women who could not hold on to their tongues, and made nuisance of simple things in life. He was excited to tell her the story, but only when she had told him what she had understood.

‘I will let you die for a while, till you tell me what you make out of all this,’ he said.

She turned to him, ‘I just hope you asked me this. I have listened to enough stories. I wish to tell mine now. You can’t keep a journalist quiet for too long.’

‘Shoot it out then.’

‘First, the facts. Then I will connect the dots. Two professors were killed on the same day by a murderer called Abideh. The method used is called IMAGED  in DEAL, where it was developed by a scientist called Dr. Ahluwalia. This Ahluwalia was seduced by a call girl Sophia Loren, who learnt how to use the technology. Using the technology, she killed the two professors by hiring few other call girls and giving them training to get into the minds of the people. Ahluwalia was sent on an indefinite leave from DEAL and he was later abducted and kept in a hotel in Mussoorie. IMAGED was used to win auctions of natural resources done by the Indian government, most probably by Abideh. We still don’t know how many people have been hurt because of this. And we still don’t know who is Abideh and why is this person doing all this?’

‘Murderers have their own funny reasons. I am sure Abideh has her own.’

 ‘Are you going to link everything now?’ he asked her.

‘No, I think we need to wait till we know Abideh.’

‘Let me tell you, to pass time, how the two professors were killed.’

‘Make it interesting, will you?’

‘The first entry in the diary of Prof. Dinanath is of March 2013. From what I came to know, he was gifted the diary in January 2013. This certificate of Prof. Rameshwar that we have received dates to January 2013. Hence we know that he was imaged in January, as soon as he received the certificate and took it out of the cover shield and read it. Once they were imaged, they were connected to two call girls, just like both of us were.’

‘If I write about this story, I fear people will call me mad,’ Lavie said.

‘But you have proofs now, so it is out of question.’

‘Yes, let’s hope. I am tired of questions anyways.’

‘These two professors who were exceedingly good people; well-known academicians with a sharp mind, started feeling the weight of the noises in their mind as soon as the process started. Mind you, it is very important to know about the life of the person to be murdered. The whole process is based on mental deterioration and killing the self-confidence of the person, filling him with doubts and then drawing him slowly towards suicide. For both the professors, because of their success and self-confidence, it took so much time. If it had been a normal person subjected to such harassment of mind, my guess is they would have succumbed easily.’

‘You mean like us?’

‘Maybe. What may have worked against them though is the seduction. Prof. Dinanath, married and having children would surely have felt remorse at doing this. I am sure his agent seduced him. Similarly, with Prof. Rameshwar, who lived a life of an ascetic without even being married. Sexual tension is what may have led them to suicide.’

‘What makes you say this? In that case why is my connection a girl, I mean do they think I am a lesbian?’

Rohan laughed out loud. He quickly suppressed his laughter.

‘They probably have to deal with men most of the times. I am sure if Abideh continues to do this, male escorts too would find employment in this deadly business. By the way, I got this information from his diary entry few days before his death.’

‘Do you have it now? Show it to me.’

Rohan opened his bag and took out Prof. Dinanath’s diary. He flipped pages, searching for a particular one and then handed over the diary to Lavie.

It was written a month before his death. Lavie took it from him and read it.

Date: 15 Feb, 2025

Place: Mumbai

Suicide

It’s strange that at such an age I get so many urges. My wife instead of being happy is on the verge of asking me go to a younger woman. Night after night, the urges get stronger, so much so that I have to get up and ask me wife. Poor soul, she already has so much of a responsibility as the principal of her school. I sometimes feel ashamed of all this. Has Game theory got seduction powers? Or are the female instincts in me, suppressed for so long in this male dominated society getting back? I had never asked for such an equilibrium in my life, never worked for it. I cannot connect the dots. Maybe it is because of my apathy towards the younger generation. I need a hint, a data point which could lead to an explanation of my current situation. My commitments are falling behind, I have had to cancel many appointments, waiting for this issue to resolve. Doctors haven’t been of much help either. This is eating up my career. I am not at all enjoying my life for which I have worked so hard.

Today my mind drifted to a discussion I had witnessed with a colleague during my PhD at Harvard. It’s been long yet the memory is vivid in me. We were discussing the famous lines from Albert Camus’s ‘The Myth of Sisyphus’: THERE IS BUT ONE TRULY SERIOUS PHILOSOPHICAL PROBLEM AND THAT IS SUICIDE. In those days I would not delve too much into these discussions focussing on my work in economics instead. But now I think a good deal about suicide and how it can get me rid of the present issues of which I have no solution to. It has gripped my mind like a Cobra grips its prey.

END

She noticed the paper containing the final lines crunched at few points, knowing very well that these parts had become moist when the entry was being written. Rohan spoke noticing she had finished.

‘The language is that of an economist, but I am sure you get at what he is hinting.’

‘Yes, I do. I hope you noticed he was crying while writing this.’