Wearing a pale blue dress and dark blue shoes, she had carried a smart white calfskin handbag and had had a dignified air about her. It had been obvious that she must have been eye-catching before age and illness had taken their toll.
She had pulled a piece of paper out of her purse.
“Bless me, Father, for I have sinned. It has been many years since my last confession,” Elina had said, kneeling down.
“Go ahead, Elina,” Father Luis had said.
“As you know, I used to manage the Bombay City Orphanage that was established by the Sir Jimmy Mehta Trust,” she had begun.
“Yes, I do recall that,” Father Luis had said through the screen.
“I did not do my duty, Father,” Elina had said, her eyes welling up.
“Why do you say that?” he had asked gently.
“I was in love with the chief trustee. He was a married man and I was determined to break up his marriage and become his wife. Our adulterous relationship continued for a couple of years.”
“I sense there is something more than this that you wish to confess,” Father Luis had said. He spoke with the experience of many years.
“I was so caught up in the affair that I allowed the orphanage’s funds to be embezzled by him. Eventually it had to shut down and is closed to this day,” Elina had replied.
“Be that as it may, you continued looking after the children while the orphanage lasted. That must count for something,” Father Luis had said sympathetically.
“But that’s just it. I was terrible to them. In particular, after I found out that I had been used like a whore by the chief trustee, I was overcome by rage. I began taking it out on the children who were in my charge.”
“How?” Father Luis had asked.
“I would beat them with a rod, often till the welts bled. I would hold their heads under water to discipline them. Sometimes I would fly into a fit of rage if they had wet their beds and would almost strangle them. I was worse than a witch.”
“If that was the case, how did you get your present position as the principal of such a well-respected girls’ school?”
Elina’s hands had trembled. “I blackmailed the chief trustee. I told him that the orphanage had closed down because of his financial misdeeds. I also had evidence of our sexual relationship, which I threatened to expose to his wife.”
“And in return, he managed to get you a plum post so that you would keep your mouth shut?”
“Precisely — at the girls’ school. Luckily for me, there had been an instance of teen pregnancy there and a reporter from the Afternoon Mirror was chasing the story. I went to her office, screamed at her, and told her that I would get the girl’s parents to sue her for defamation if she printed anything. The threat worked and the paper dropped the piece. I became the darling of the board of trustees.”
“And was your old friend among them?”
“Yes,” Elina had replied. “He is still on the board but we rarely talk. I got married to the gym instructor at the school but my husband died a few years later from cirrhosis. I settled down into my role and made a new life for myself.”
“So why this confession, then?” Father Luis had asked.
“I was diagnosed with leukemia a year ago. Don’t worry... it’s in remission. I realize that I need to make a full confession so that I can stop walking around bearing the guilt of my past sins. I need a fresh start, Father.”
He had nodded. “And are you actually repentant for your sins?”
Elina had picked up the piece of paper that she had pulled out of her purse and had begun reading: “O God, I am heartily sorry for having offended Thee and I detest all my sins because of Thy just punishments, but most of all because they offend Thee, my God, who art all good and deserving of all my love. I firmly resolve, with the help of Thy grace, to sin no more and avoid the near occasions of sin. Amen.”
Father Luis had thought about what Elina had said for a moment. He had sighed before making the sign of the cross, closing his eyes, and speaking.
“Do you reject sin so as to live in the freedom of God’s children?” he had asked.
“I do,” Elina had replied.
“Do you reject Satan, father of sin and prince of darkness?”
“I do.”
“Do you believe in God, the Father Almighty, creator of heaven and earth?”
“I do.”
“Do you believe in Jesus Christ, His only Son, our Lord, who was born of the Virgin Mary, was crucified, died, and was buried, rose from the dead, and is now seated at the right hand of the Father?”
“I do.”
“Do you believe in the Holy Spirit, the Holy Catholic Church, the communion of saints, the forgiveness of sins, the resurrection of the body, and life everlasting?”
“I do.”
“In that case, may our Lord Jesus Christ absolve you; and by His authority I absolve you from every bond of excommunication... I absolve you of your sins in the name of the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Amen.”
The priest had opened his eyes to look though the screen at Elina. She had already left.
Chapter 71
Hari Padhi looked up at the naked bulb hanging from the ceiling and wondered whether the wire would support his weight if he tried to hang himself. Doing that would be preferable to the alternatives on offer.
If only he could get to it.
He lay naked and spreadeagled on the bare table, his hands and feet tied securely to the corners with prickly jute twine. After tying him down to the table, the disinterested cop had left, the cell door clanging noisily shut.
And now he counted the seconds and minutes as he waited, staring at the bulb. The silence in the cell was deafening and intense fear coupled with exhaustion began to tell on him. Softly, he wept.
Suddenly there was a loud noise, a flurry of activity, and Rupesh appeared by his side. Noticing the tears, the cop took out his kerchief from his pocket and wiped Hari’s face almost tenderly.
“Shhh. Don’t worry,” he whispered. “In a short while it will all be over,” he said, his tobacco-scented breath wafting into Hari’s nostrils.
Rupesh’s assistant plugged something into the power outlet immediately next to the prison cell. It was a simple yet brutally effective device — a long electrical cord with a plug at one end and splayed copper wires at the other.
“Are you ready?” asked Rupesh as he waited for the constable to turn on the power supply. The worried-looking constable ran over to him and wordlessly handed over the naked end of the long cord.
Holding the wire in his hand, Rupesh looked at Hari’s terrified face. He then began patiently to explain what he was about to do. “My electric prod has two electrodes of different polarity a short distance apart so that a circuit will be created via your testicles. You will feel extreme pain and distress because I shall keep the voltage high and the current low. I shall keep increasing the current if I do not hear what I want from you.
“Shall we begin?” asked Rupesh rhetorically as he placed one of the wires on Hari’s privates. Hari shut his eyes in terror as he waited for the circuit to be completed.
The ringing of the phone was almost deafening. Muttering a few choice expletives, Rupesh was forced to hand over the electrical cord to the constable in order to take the call. He listened carefully to the sub-inspector who was calling from a house in South Mumbai.
Hanging up, Rupesh looked at Hari and began to laugh almost demonically. “You have the devil’s luck, my friend,” he said as he left the prison cell hurriedly, his constable in tow.
Chapter 72
Munna sat in a comfortable recliner in a private VIP box at Wankhede Stadium. This was the usual venue for premier cricket matches in Mumbai and where one sat was a clear indicator of where one stood in the city’s pecking order.