Free The Crow Eaters by Bapsi Sidhwa

meat, fowl and vegetable bazaar.
    Freddy’s immediate neighbour, the broker, called in one evening.
    ‘What’s going on?’ he asked with a glad, meaningful smile.
    ‘Oh, I just seem to be getting busier. Every day there is more and more work to be done.’
    ‘Business appears to have picked up?’
    ‘Yes, a bit,’ said Freddy modestly.
    ‘Good, good,’ the broker beamed.
    Another time, the toy shop owner standing at the entrance to his shop salaamed as Freddy passed by.
    ‘How’s business these days?’ he called.
    ‘Seems to have taken a turn for the better. Got some new supply contracts – by the grace of God. A few new agencies also.’
    ‘Good, May God’s grace always be with you,’ the toy shop owner called encouragingly after him.
    All in turn congratulated Freddy on his apparent success.
    A narrow, brick-paved alley ran along behind the store, between the commercial flats and the back of a long tenement. The downstairs landing opened directly into this alley. Horse-carts brought goods to this entrance and cases were carried through the landing door to store-rooms at the rear of the shop.
    Then, one day, a mountainous load of stocks arrived at the front entrance. The bullock-cart carrying the load was too wide for the back alley. Envious neighbours drifted closer to watch precious, choicest brand cognacs, liqueurs, whisky and vintage wines being unloaded.
    Supplies started arriving at night. Cart drivers shouted up from the alley, ‘Junglewalla sahib, Junglewalla sahib,’ they called, until Freddy appeared at the dining room window overlooking the alley. Peering into the pitch-black alley, he answered, ‘Wait, I’ll be down in a minute.’
    Taking a small bunch of keys hanging from a nail, and borrowing the kitchen lantern, Freddy scurried down to open the landing door.
    Neighbours on either side of the alley grew accustomed to these nocturnal disturbances. At such times Freddy worked late into the night, carefully entering each item in his inventory book. He also spent long hours in his store-room quietly prising open packing cases and removing their contents. Exhausted by his labours Freddy crept up the stairs, reverently pinched out the wick of his lantern and fell into a deep contented sleep beside his slumbering spouse.
    On 9th March Freddy hired a warehouse near the railway station, explaining to the apathetic landlord that he was expecting a very large shipment of goods from England. He paid three months’ rent in advance.
    That night again men called up from the alley after thehousehold had gone to sleep. Freddy crept up to Putli’s bed and whispered, ‘I might be a little late getting back. A large consignment has arrived.’
    ‘All right,’ mumbled Putli sleepily.
    Freddy went down the stairs quietly and opened the door. Night lay like a thick mattress over the alley. Only one window far down the line showed a dim, lamplit glow. He beckoned the men in. Large gunny bags of the sort used by a local brewery were piled all over the store-room floor. Packing cases towering in the background were barely visible in the anaemic sphere of light thrown by the lantern. Two men lifted a sack between them and staggering beneath its weight carried it to the landing door. Freddy gave a hand as they carefully hauled the sacks into the cart.
    No one knew, or cared, that the cart instead of delivering a consignment, was being loaded. Springing atop the freight, Freddy directed the
rehra
to his newly rented warehouse by the station. They made three trips that night and Freddy crawled into bed around two o’clock in the morning.
    This activity was carried on for three nights, until the packing cases in the store-room, stamped with expensive brand names, were quite empty.

Chapter 9
    ONLY three days were left.
    Freddy had been too busy to feel anxiety. But now that the preliminary work was done, he began counting the hours to the final moment. He was suddenly as tense as an over-wound clock. Climbing