A Small Case for Inspector Ghote? by H. R. F. Keating

Author:H. R. F. Keating [H. R. F. Keating]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Severn House Publishers
Published: 2020-01-23T16:00:00+00:00

FIFTEEN

As soon as he could after hearing about the triumphant end to the Patience game, Ghote left Smita Chunnilal. He had wanted even to run straight out of the flat just calling out a swift goodbye, but he managed in the end to keep the fierce excitement out of his eyes long enough to make his farewell polite and grateful.

His suppressed excitement lasted, however, only until he stepped out of Sunnyside’s double doors. At once it came to him then that, knowing now how false was the account Rahe had been given of that night’s events, nothing should be allowed to stand between himself and questioning Nathumal Moolchand, distant head of mighty Moolchand Investments.

Bracing his bony shoulders, he decided he must go, without any delay whatsoever, straight to Moolchand Chambers, described all too frequently in newspaper columns as the tallest and most modern building among all the high-rises coming up on the reclaimed land at the far tip of Bombay’s southern peninsula. He decided, too, that he would take Sgt Chavan with him.

Very well, taking Chavan to Moolchand Chambers may give the ACP’s spy a chance to report something not at all authorised which I am going to undertake. But it will also serve one very useful purpose. Hunched-shoulders, sullenly determined Chavan will perhaps remind the powerful crorepati at his desk in Moolchand Chambers that the Bombay Police, and its Crime Branch in particular, has more forceful ways of finding out what it wants to know than just only by asking questions.

So, with Ghote choosing to take the wheel, they embarked on the long drive down from Cumballa Hill to the edge of the sea at Chowpatty Beach, its wide stretch of sand dotted now with the richer Bombayites taking early advantage of the first summer weather. Then, with Chavan sitting all the while staring morosely straight ahead, it was along the wide sweep of Marine Drive, wide but intolerably thick with traffic.

Abruptly it came into Ghote’s mind, as he jockeyed the car along, that the situation with Chavan was nothing less than ridiculous.

Here I am, saddled with this morose hunched figure, neither of us having a word to say to each other. Chavan is tongue-tied because, almost certainly, he is under the ACP’s orders to report on my every move. And I myself am condemned to equal silence because I believe this is what Chavan’s duty is.

Right, time to break apart the absurd cocoon of silence.

‘Tell me, Sergeant, am I right to think ACP Divekar has told you, in confidence, that he wants you to report to him all about myself?’

Chavan swung round in his seat.

‘But-but, Inspector, no. No, no.’

‘Really and truly No?’ Ghote asked with a smile into which he put all the friendliness he could muster.

And, after perhaps five seconds, the answer came.

‘Inspector, when ACP Sahib is giving me one order what must I do?’

‘All right, that is a hard question to answer. And I tell you one thing: you must, of course, always give the ACP something.

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