Mumbaistan by Piyush Jha Read Free Book Online Page A

ward, going through the instructions in her head. For a moment, her eyes rested upon a crack in the door across from her. To her surprise, she saw Tanvir in the adjoining room, getting strapped up in a bulletproof jacket. Agitated, Rabia called out to ACP Hani, ACP saab, I asked you to let Tanvir go.'
    The ACP saw what she was looking at and then said, 'He has volunteered himself. He has seen the face of one of the others with Aalamzeb and can identify him instantly.'
    'But I will get the images on this camera. I promise.'
    The ACP shrugged. 'We need him as backup. You never know what might happen.'
    Rabia lapsed into a frustrated silence.
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    The Christian Cemetery is a silent oasis in the midst of the hurly burly of Mumbai's chemical manufacturing and port-warehousing area, Sewree. It was established by Arthur Crawford, the first municipal commissioner of Bombay, on a horticultural garden next to the saltpans and the ruined Sewree Fort. Consecrated in March 1867, it has served as the final resting place for many, Britishers of the Raj including F. W. Stevens, who designed the VT station and A. M. Jacob of Shimla, said to be the inspiration for Rudyard Kipling's jeweller-cum-magician-cum-spymaster, Lurgan Saheb.
    As dusk fell, the shadowy figures of ATS men, now multiplied in numbers and adorned in 'attack gear', crawled on all fours through the cemetery. They were snaking towards the Excel Godown that bordered the eastern fencing of the cemetery. The godown had been chosen well. Its location gave a strategic advantage to the people inside. The daily business approach for it was from the open medium-width lane from the north that threaded through the maze of warehousing structures of all shapes and sizes. On the south and west of the godown were the Sewree Jetty and the saltpans, the famous refuge of flamingos during the winter months. Because of the acres of open expanse and marshy slush, the saltpans could not be used as an approach. The only approach that afforded any sort of cover was through the cemetery, that, too, only under cover of darkness.
    Rabia arrived in a taxi driven by a policeman in disguise. The taxi parked outside the main gate and, as instructed, Rabia asked the taxi driver to wait for her. She walked up to the gate and was let inside by the lone sentry on duty. It was obvious that the sentry had been awaiting her arrival. He motioned her towards a small wooden side door that led into the godown. The wooden door opened by itself as soon as she neared. Rabia disappeared from the policemen's sight as the door closed behind her.
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    In the adjoining cemetery, ACP Hani and the ATS men waited in the shadows. Tanvir, who was a couple of paces behind the ACP, crawled up to him in the dark. 'Now what?' he enquired.
    The ACP raised his finger to his lips. 'Now, we wait,' he muttered, irritated. He got busy focusing his infrared binoculars on the upper glass windows of the godown, hoping to catch some movement inside.
    The night was cool, yet small sweat droplets trickled their way down Tanvir's temples. He was not used to maintaining a prone position for a long time. He felt specially constrained because of the heavy bulletproof jacket and leather boots kitted out to him by the ATS team, and shifted in his position from time to time as the alien equipment chafed his skin.
    They had been lying in wait for almost two hours now, yet there was not a single movement seen in the godown. Deep worry lines furrowed ACP Hani's forehead; he kept glancing at his waterproof wristwatch and then at the taxi still waiting at the gate. The taxi driver, in true waiting-for-passenger style, was lounging with his head thrown back. However, the ACP knew that he was just pretending to sleep. But what the ACP was not sure of was whether he could see any activity through the upper glass windows of the godown. Although the taxi driver was equipped with a walky-talky, the ACP dared not contact him for fear of the signal being picked up