A Very Private Enterprise by Unknown

Author:Unknown
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781788630245
Publisher: Canelo Books
Published: 2018-12-10T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twelve

Squaring up to more sweet tea, Sinclair’s first gesture on reaching his office was to lift the receiver to make an appointment with Battacharia.

The phone rang for a long time and he was just about to redial when he heard a sing-song voice chanting, “Delhi Police Headquarters.”

“Inspector Battacharia, please.” He waited for the clicks and renewed dialling tone and impatiently shouted, “Pratap?” over the intervening static as soon as he heard the receiver lifted at the other end. The next few minutes were ones of confusion and annoyance.

“This is not Inspector Battacharia speaking.”

“I’m sorry. I must have been put through to the wrong extension. Could you transfer me, or return me to the switchboard?”

“Who is this speaking?”

“My name is Sinclair and I’m trying to reach Inspector Battacharia.”

“Inspector Battacharia is being posted to new duties. I am taking over his cases now.”

“Posted? Why is he being posted?” Sinclair was completely taken aback.

“For operational reasons he is being transferred.”

“In the middle of a case?”

“In the middle of several cases, Mr Sinclair. Yours is not the only one on Inspector Battacharia’s desk.”

“And who am I speaking to now?”

“I am Inspector Verma.”

“I have one or two points to discuss, Inspector Verma. Would it be possible for me to see you some time today?”

“Today? Today is not very convenient for me. Can you say over the phone?”

Sinclair silently grimaced at his end of the line, clenching his teeth in an expression of fury. “One matter I can report on the phone. There was a break-in at Bungalow 2 in the British High Commission compound last night with a fair amount of damage.”

“Is anything of value missing?”

“Not as far as I can tell.”

“I will send constables as soon as operationally possible.”

“One last thing, Inspector Verma. Inspector Battacharia was undertaking some enquiries for me.” Sinclair listened to the rhythms of Indian English taking over his own speech. “Do you have any reports for me?”

“No,” Verma spoke without hesitation. “There are no reports for you.”

“And never will be,” Sinclair finished for himself as he slammed the receiver into its cradle. He smoothed his hair for a moment as if suppressed rage had made it stand on end, then seized the phone again.

“Bill, listen. Some Indian police’ll be round some time in the next month to see about the break-in. Keep an eye on them, will you, and don’t allow them to beat up the servants. What? Yes, I am bloody angry. My guy Battacharia has been removed from Hugo’s case and I’ve had some pompous little prick called Verma yapping at me and being as obstructive as he can.”

A second call in more controlled vein was made to Turnell.

“Alan, are you having a row with the Indians at present? Why do I ask? Because they’ve frozen up on Hugo’s case. Almost quit on it. So it’s either because they want to get at HMG or … Well, in that case it’s something or someone else and I can guess who … Yes, some diplomatic representations would be useful.

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