Club You to Death by Anuja Chauhan (pdf e book reader .TXT) 📗

‘Any reason why he would send it to you, sir? Along with a link to an orphanage in Badshahpur? An orphanage to which you subsequently made a substantial donation?’

Mehra is openly bristling now. ‘I assume you’re implying he was blackmailing me. Because I have a secret. And because I “think that no one knows” and I am smelling err … “like a rose”. That’s the theory isn’t it?’

Bhavani does not respond. There is a small, uneasy pause and then the general throws back his head and laughs uproariously.

‘I don’t even remember receiving this WhatsApp message, ACP! I get so many messages! It’s the curse of being well-known! People keep sending you all kinds of things all the time – I certainly never opened this video or heard this song.’

‘There are two blue ticks on it,’ Kashi points out.

‘I will give the answer I always give my grandchildren! Yes, baby girl, I opened it, but because I did not have my reading glasses with me, I did not actually read it!’

‘But you don’t need to read it, sir,’ Bhavani insists doggedly. ‘You just have to listen.’

‘Well, I didn’t listen,’ is the rather sharp reply. ‘I don’t listen to stuff I don’t want to hear. Everybody knows that.’

Kashi chuckles. ‘Tell the ACP why they call you Behra Mehra, uncle.’

‘Yes, sir, we were wondering!’ Bhavani picks up the cue at once. ‘Because your hearing seems excellent to us!’

The general grins, flashing yellowing teeth. ‘It is. What happened is that back when I was a second lieutenant, posted in Poonch, we had a small insurgency situation. These six Pakis had crept in and taken over our bunkers during a snowstorm, and I was sent up there with four of my men to flush them out. So we went in there, but they got wind of our arrival somehow, and we lost the element of surprise. There was a shootout and I lost two of my men – we downed three of the Pakis though, and the other three ran for their border. We gave chase, but when we reached the LOC, my superiors starting yelling at me through the walkie-talkies to stop – we weren’t to cross the LOC or it would be a violation of the border agreement we had with Pakistan. But the fog of war had descended on me, ACP – those chaps had killed two of my men… There was no way in hell I was going to let them get away with it!’ He stops, panting. His eyes are glazed; he is seeing things Bhavani cannot.

‘So then, sir?’ Bhavani asks breathlessly.

‘So then, I held my walkie-talkie a little away from my mouth and said, “Reception poor, sir! Repeat order, sir!”’

Bhavani’s jaw drops. ‘No!’

Mehra chuckles. ‘O yes. My superior repeated the order. I held the walkie even further away from my mouth, and again said, “Reception quality poor, sir! Repeat order, sir! UNABLE to hear order, sir!”’

‘That’s too good, general sa’ab!’

‘He bleated out his wretched little order for the third time – that we were to return to our station with our tail between our legs – and for the third time I replied, “Unable to HEAR, sir! Order UNCLEAR, sir!” And then I dropped my walkie into the snow, dove across the LOC and downed those three escaping Pakis. And that, ACP, is why they call me Behra Mehra,’ he finishes with a flourish, face flushed, eyes alight, clearly expecting applause.

Bhavani dutifully bursts into enthusiastic clapping. ‘Wah! Wah, general sa’ab, wah!’

These damn faujis have no respect for human life. Killing a human being is like slapping a mosquito for them.

Mukesh Khurana’s words had been a sweeping generalization, of course, but they do seem to ring true for Behra Mehra, AVSM PVSM Yudh Sewa Medal.

Mehra ducks his head modestly. ‘I applied the same tactics in 2016. You might have seen the movie Jhelum Bridge?’

‘Yes, sir, of course! You were played by Amitabh Bachchan in the movie! It was too good, sir!’

‘Thank you! The IJP was really keen to milk my popularity after the surgical strikes,’ Mehra continues. ‘Offered me a ticket to contest the election from my native place! But I’m a simple creature, ACP. A bit of tennis, a round of golf, some drinks – that’s good enough for me!’

‘So humble, sir!’

They stare at each other in rapt delight for a while.

Finally Bhavani drops his gaze and says in a much more matter-of-fact voice, ‘And your donation to the charity mentioned in the WhatsApp link, sir?’

Behra Mehra furrows his forehead.

‘Somebody mentioned the place to me – said they do good work – so I made a donation and asked them to say prayers in the memory of my wife, who studied at a convent school, and was a big fan of Mother Mary and Mother Teresa. That is all.’

‘Who mentioned it to you?’ Bhavani’s voice is very casual.

The general’s is equally casual as he replies, ‘I can’t remember off-hand.’ He goes quiet.

As the silence threatens to lengthen, Kashi says quickly, ‘Any leads for the ACP, Mehra uncle? You know everybody at the DTC … surely you can point our nose in the right direction!’

Mehra sits back comfortably.

‘There’s a world of suspects out there if you look beyond me! From what I’ve heard, this Leo chap led a colourful life! Any number of jealous husbands out for his blood! Any number of jealous women competing for his affection!’

‘Then these women would kill each other, wouldn’t they? Why would they kill him?’

‘Oh, Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned … blah di blah,’ Behra Mehra says vaguely. ‘What I mean to say is, go digging into his past. He seems a bit of a mystery man to me, frankly – no parents, no girlfriend, no background, no foreground! Isn’t that what they say in all the mystery novels – the psychology of the dead man points an unerring finger to the criminal? I’ve seen all sort of crazy things in the army, and I’m sure you’ve seen