‘I will be back,’ Imran said to Lady Jehangir and left for the man’s table.

  ‘Did you bring it?’ the man whispered.

  ‘What is this then?’ Imran pointed to the handbag. ‘Did you bring it?’

  ‘Yes, yes!’ the man said, placing his hand on the handbag he had brought.

  ‘That’s good then,’ Imran said. ‘Hold this and quietly slip out of here.’

  ‘Why?’ he glared.

  ‘Captain Fayyaz suspects me. It is quite possible that he has appointed some men to watch over me.’

  ‘This is not some trick, is it?’

  ‘Not at all. I am in dire need of money these days.’

  ‘If you try to play a trick, you will not live,’ the man said, taking the handbag and standing up.

  ‘My friend, I am not taking this money to build my own mausoleum,’ Imran said in a low voice as he watched the man walk out. Imran had a mischievous smile on his face. He grabbed the bag the man had given him and returned to sit close to Lady Jehangir again.

  Chapter 15

  AS SOON AS THE man left the building, two men lurking in the compound of the nightclub approached him.

  ‘What happened?’ the first one asked.

  ‘I got it,’ the one with the bag said.

  ‘Does it have the papers?’

  ‘I didn’t open to see it.’

  ‘Idiot.’

  ‘How could I have opened it there?’

  ‘Bring it here,’ the first one said, taking the bag from him. Then he said in a surprised voice, ‘Why is this so heavy?’ He tried to open it, but there was a lock on the bag.

  ‘Come on, let’s get out of here,’ the third one said. ‘No need to open it here.’

  They came out of the compound and got into a car and drove away. Once they were out of the populated areas they switched on the car’s interior lights. One of the men, who seemed to be the oldest but also the strongest of them all, tried to open the bag using a thin wire. As soon as the flap of the handbag was lifted, the two men sitting in the rear seat jumped. Something sprung out of the bag and hit the driver’s head, almost making the car crash into a tree. There were three big frogs bouncing around in the car. The old man swore and one guy started laughing.

  ‘Shut up!’ the old man bellowed from deep within his throat. ‘You’re an idiot! It is because of you…’

  ‘Sir, what could I have done! How could I have opened it there? Even he thought there could be police there.’

  ‘Cut out this nonsense! I had already checked. There was no police there. Don’t take me for an ordinary guy. Now this lad has invited his death. Hey you! Stop the car.’

  The car stopped. The old man thought quietly for a while and then said, ‘Who else was there in the club with him?’

  ‘A good-looking woman. Both of them were drinking.’

  ‘Wrong! Imran doesn’t drink.’

  ‘But he was drinking, sir!’

  The old man began to think again.

  ‘Come on! Let’s go back.’ After a few moments of silence, he said, ‘I will kill him in the club.’

  The car turned towards the city again.

  ‘I think he might already be dead,’ the man sitting next to the old man said.

  ‘No. He’s not an idiot like you,’ the old man said angrily. ‘If he has deceived us, he is certainly aware of it.’

  ‘Then he must have left the club…’

  ‘Don’t argue with me,’ the old man thundered. ‘I will hunt him down and kill him. Even if he’s in his own house.’

  Chapter 16

  IMRAN SAT AT HIS table for a few moments and then suddenly darted out of the club. He heard a car start in the compound. He came back in.

  ‘Why are you running around?’ Lady Jehangir asked, her eyes hazy with drink.

  ‘Trying to digest the food,’ Imran said, looking at his wristwatch. Lady Jehangir laughed with her mouth closed. Imran’s eyes were still on his watch. After a while, he got up again. Now he was heading towards the telephone booth. He picked up the receiver, dialled a number, and began to talk.

  ‘Hello, Super Fayyaz…This is Imran…Leave immediately.’

  Replacing the receiver, he returned to the club hall but did not sit near Lady Jehangir this time. For a few moments, he stood and looked around. Then he went and sat at a table with three men. These men knew Imran, so they did not mind him joining them.

  For about fifteen minutes, Imran laughed and joked with them, but during this period his eyes would repeatedly return to the door.

  Suddenly he spotted, at the door the old man from whom he had snatched the handbag a few days ago. Imran’s conversation grew even more animated but he soon felt something prodding his right shoulder. From the corner of his eye he looked towards his right and saw that the old man was standing right next to them. His left hand was in his coat pocket and a hard object from the coat pocket was poking Imran’s shoulder. Imran knew that this could only be the barrel of a revolver.

  ‘Imran sahib!’ the old man said very politely. ‘Will you please step out for a few minutes?’

  ‘Aha! Uncle dear!’ Imran chuckled. ‘Most certainly! But I have some complaints about you, and therefore you shouldn’t have any complaints about me as well.’

  ‘For sure. Please step out,’ the old man smiled. ‘I am sorry for that idiot’s actions.’

  Imran stood up. Now he could feel the barrel of the revolver digging into his side. The two of them came out. As soon as they reached the park outside, both the old man’s companions joined them.

  ‘Where are the papers?’ the old man asked, grabbing Imran’s collar and shaking him. There was complete silence in the park. Suddenly Imran caught the old man’s left hand and landed a powerful punch under his chin. Now the revolver was in Imran’s hand. The old man stumbled and was about to fall to the ground when he was helped by his men.

  ‘I ask you: where is that ten thousand?’ Imran yelled.

  Suddenly, from behind the balsam fence nearby, some eight or ten men pounced on the three men and a violent battle ensued. The three men fought with remarkable courage and audacity.

  ‘Super Fayyaz!’ Imran shouted. ‘The man with the beard…!’

  The bearded man was making a break for it. He was about to clear the balsam fence when a spark flew from Imran’s revolver. The bullet hit the man on his leg.

  ‘Aray baap! Aray baap!’ Imran cried out as he threw the gun down and started slapping his face.

  The other two men had been nabbed by this time. Fayyaz leapt towards the old man who was still struggling to escape. Fayyaz caught him by his leg and dragged him out of the fence.

  ‘Who is he?’ Fayyaz shone a light on his face. A crowd had gathered in the park upon hearing the gunshot.

  The old man was not unconscious. He was writhing like a wounded snake. Imran bent and pulled off his fake beard.

  ‘Hain!’ Fayyaz cried out. ‘Sir Jehangir!’

  Jehangir tried to run again, but Imran’s kick kept him from doing so.

  ‘Yes, Sir Jehangir,’ Imran muttered. ‘A foreign spy. A traitor to his nation.’

  Chapter 17

  THE FOLLOWING DAY, CAPTAIN Fayyaz sat in Imran’s room staring at him incredulously as he talked. ‘I am happy that because of me, a major spy and traitor has been brought to justice. Who could have imagined that a highly respected and venerable person like Sir Jehangir could be a spy for a foreign country?’

  ‘But who was the guardian of the grave?’ Fayyaz asked impatiently.

  ‘Don’t interrupt me while I speak. That poor man was trying to cross this hurdle by himself, but I spoilt his game. Last night I met him. He recounted the whole story. Perhaps he has now disappeared forever. He has been defeated in a major way. Now he doesn’t want to show his face to anyone.’

  ‘But who is he anyway?’

  ‘Ayaz! Don’t be surprised. I’ll explain. This Ayaz was the same guy who was travelling with the Foreign Office secretary. He had half the papers and the secretary had the other half. When they were robbed, the secretary was killed and Ayaz somehow survived. The criminals could only get half the papers. Ayaz worked for the secret service of the Foreign Office. He survived but never reported to his office. Actually he was a highly prized officer in his time. This defeat convinced him that he shouldn’t present himself in the office without retrieving the rest of the papers. He also knew half of the papers were of no use to anyone. The criminals would look for him to get the rest of the papers. In a few days, he uncovered the criminals but could not trace their chief. Days passed but Ayaz had no luck.

  Then one day he set a new trap. He bought that building and started living there with his faithful servant. During this time, to implement his scheme he “discovered” a grave and laid out all that mechanism. Suddenly his servant fell ill and died. Ayaz devised another stratagem. He buried his servant and, after disguising himself, adopted his servant’s life. Before this, he had legally transferred the building to Judge sahib and allotted one room for himself. Immediately after this, he started luring the criminals towards the building. He used ploys to make the criminals believe that the man who died was actually the secret service person and that the rest of the papers were hidden somewhere in the building. Recently, they secured access to the room where the dead bodies were found. The papers were actually in that secret wall compartment. They obtained clues regarding that from Ayaz again. As soon as someone came close to the wall with the secret compartment, Ayaz would make terrifying noises from beneath the tombstone. Whoever was near the wall would lean against it out of fear. Then Ayaz would bring the mechanism into action and the three blades would pierce the man’s back. He did all this just to capture the chief, but the chief fell into my hands instead. Now Ayaz will never reveal himself. And dear Captain Fayyaz—I have promised him that his name will not appear anywhere in the case. Understand? And you will have to keep the promise I have made. Write your report in a way that even my one-eyed beloved is not mentioned either.’

  ‘That’s fine,’ Fayyaz said quickly. ‘Where are those ten thousand rupees you received from Sir Jehangir?’

  ‘Yes.’ Imran rolled his eyes. ‘Let’s go halves with it.’

  ‘Nonsense! I will put the money in official custody,’ Fayyaz said.

  ‘Never!’ Imran snapped up the leather handbag that he had got the previous night from one of Sir Jehangir’s men.

  Fayyaz snatched the handbag from him and began to open it.

  ‘Beware! Be cautious.…’ Imran shouted like a chowkidar, but Fayyaz had already opened the bag. He cried out, ‘Aray baap ray!’ and sprang onto the sofa. A snake emerged out of the handbag and started crawling on the floor.

  ‘May God wreck you! Imran—you rascal!’ Fayyaz roared, standing on the sofa. The snake raised its hood and made a dash for the sofa. Fayyaz shouted fearfully and jumped onto another chair. The chair toppled and Fayyaz fell on his face. If Imran had not swiftly stepped on the snake’s head, it would have certainly bitten Fayyaz. The rest of the snake’s body coiled powerfully around Imran’s shin, making him feel as though it would break. On top of this, Fayyaz was raining punches and slaps on him. With great difficulty he rid himself of both of them.

  ‘You have lost it completely…you lunatic…savage…’ Fayyaz yelled.

  ‘What can I do, darling? Anyway, now you can hand this into official custody. If I had miscalculated last night, this thing would have put me in God’s custody forever.’

  ‘You mean Sir Jehangir…?’

  ‘Yes. Last night we exchanged frogs and snakes!’ Imran said and started chewing his gum in a glum manner. And then his face took on that foolish expression again.

  SHOOTOUT AT THE ROCKS

  Chapter 1

  COLONEL ZARGHAM WAS RESTLESSLY pacing up and down his room.

  He was a middle-aged man with an imposing, dignified face, and his bushy moustache tilted downward on his face. He shrugged his shoulders every few seconds as if his coat was slipping off his shoulders. This was an old habit: he compulsively twitched his shoulders at least once every two minutes. He glanced at the wall clock apprehensively and then went to stand near the window.

  In the distance, the third week’s moon was emerging from behind the mountains. The weather was pleasant and the view from the window delightful. But neither of those could put Colonel Zargham at ease.

  Suddenly he heard footsteps approaching. He turned around with a start: at the door stood his beautiful young daughter, Sophiya.

  ‘Oh Daddy, it’s ten already but…’

  ‘Yes, yes,’ Zargham said reflectively. ‘I think the train’s late.’

  He started looking out of the window again. Sophiya stepped towards him and placed her hand on his shoulder, but he went on looking outside.

  ‘Why are you so disturbed?’

  ‘Uff!’ the colonel said, turning around. ‘Don’t these events matter to you?’

  ‘I’ve never said that,’ Sophiya said. ‘I only meant to say, what’s the point in worrying by overanalysing things?’

  ‘What can I do? My trouble increases every passing moment.’

  ‘Any new development?’ There was an element of surprise in Sophiya’s expression.

  ‘Haven’t you seen Captain Fayyaz’s telegram?’

  ‘I have seen it and that’s what I have come to speak to you about.’

  ‘Hmm. So has it troubled you as well?’

  ‘Yes! What does he mean? He has written that he’s sending someone who could be of great use to us if we don’t get fed up with him. I say why send a man who will cause us trouble in the first place. And besides, he’s not an official person anyway.’

  ‘Yes, this disturbs me as well,’ said the colonel, looking at the clock again. ‘After all, what kind of a person is he sending and why would we get fed up with him?’

  ‘Why didn’t he send someone from his own department?’ Sophiya objected.

  ‘He could have if he wanted to, but Fayyaz is a principled man. For a private matter, he did not consider it appropriate to send someone official.’

  Chapter 2

  COLONEL ZARGHAM’S NEPHEWS, ANWAR and Arif, were at the station waiting for the train’s arrival. They were there to receive someone sent by the Intelligence Bureau’s Superintendent, Captain Fayyaz, upon their uncle’s request. The train was an hour late.

  These two brothers were good-looking, intelligent and well educated. Anwar was just two years older than Arif. For this reason, they were like friends, and Arif called Anwar by his first name. Both of them had also seen Captain Fayyaz’s telegram and were curious.

  ‘Captain Fayyaz’s telegram was so strange,’ Arif said.

  ‘This damn train had to be late today,’ Anwar muttered.

  ‘But what kind of a person would he be?’ Arif said.

  ‘Whatever. I imagine him to be an irascible, grumpy fellow,’ said Anwar. ‘Colonel sahib is a bored man, and he bores others as well.’

  ‘You are being unfair,’ said Arif. ‘In these circumstances you would have done the same.’

  ‘Oh, forget it. What circumstances, which circumstances? It’s just his superstitions. I often wonder how such a superstitious officer was given the command of a full battalion. It just doesn’t make any sense: when cats purr in his backyard, he takes it to mean that some trouble will befall his family; he’s scared out of his wits if he hears an owl hooting; if someone keeps a fork and knife crossed, it is a bad omen; if he sees a person blind in one eye first thing in the morning, it means danger…’

  ‘But in this matter, I sympathize with him…’ Arif said.

  ‘But I feel angry,’ Anwar said, irritated.

  ‘One must forgive old men.’

  ‘Old man?’ Anwar said annoyed. ‘I don’t see anything old in him, except for his antique beliefs.’

  ‘In any case, he’s a legacy of the bygone era.’

  They were interrupted by a sharp whistle—the train was arriving. This was a small hill station. Here, a whistle was blown to alert the passengers. There were eight or ten men on the platform. Among them were the haughty coolies in blue uniforms who strutted as if they were more important than even the station master; the food hawker who now lifted his lantern in a mesh-container from the bench onto his shoulders; and the pan-beedi seller, loudly singing a vulgar song, who too lifted his tray and hung it around his neck.

  The train slowly crawled to the platform.

  Three men disembarked from the train: two old countrymen and a young man wearing a khaki gabardine suit. A gun wrapped in a cover hung from his left shoulder. In his right hand, he held a large suitcase.

  He was probably the one for whom Anwar and Arif were waiting.

  ‘Has Captain Fayyaz sent you?’ Anwar asked him.

  ‘He couldn’t have, if I didn’t want to come myself,’ the passenger replied, smiling.

  ‘Of course! That’s right, that’s right!’ Anwar added quickly.

  ‘What’s right?’ the passenger asked, blinking his eyes.

  Anwar was caught off guard. ‘This…All this that you just said.’

  ‘Oh, okay!’ the passenger remarked as though he had understood differently.

  Arif and Anwar exchanged meaningful glances.

  ‘We have come to pick you up,’ Arif said.

  ‘Then please pick me up,’ the passenger said, dropping his suitcase on the platform and sitting upon it.

  Anwar called out to the coolie.

  ‘What?’ the passenger asked in an astonished tone. ‘Would this one coolie be able to pick me up along with the suitcase?’

  ‘Not at all,’ Anwar said in a mischievous tone. ‘Please stand up.’

  The passenger stood up. Anwar gestured to the coolie to lift the luggage and grabbed the passenger’s hand, ‘Walk like this.’

  ‘La haula wala quwwat!’ Imran shook his head. ‘I thought it would be something else.’

 

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