Free The Perplexing Theft of the Jewel in the Crown by Vaseem Khan Page B

academic.
    Chopra coughed. ‘Professor Patnagar?’
    The professor looked up.
    He had a long domed forehead, like a latter-day Shakespeare, over which had been combed a handful of desultory grey hairs. A limp moustache lay dying above moist lips.
    Patnagar rose to his feet. His body resembled a collection of coat hangers clothed in a dark suit many sizes too big.
    â€˜Who are you?’ he bristled. ‘Another of Jha’s goons? If so, I have nothing more to tell you. I am not one of your Chor Bazaar pickpockets, sir. I am a BA, MA, PhD, FRIS and former DG of the ASI. I am an alumnus of the University of Guwahati and an honorary professor of the Lebanese Institute of Mankind. I am a fellow of the Royal Geographical Society of London. I have written three books, sir, and one of them was even published. So do not think you can intimidate me. I have told you all I know. You cannot wring blood from a stone, my good man. And that is that.’
    â€˜Professor, I am not with Jha’s Force One Unit. My name is Chopra and I am investigating the theft of the crown in my own capacity. I must ask you some questions.’
    â€˜Questions! Questions!’ exploded Patnagar. ‘My very existence has been reduced to questions. First, Jha’s endless interrogations. And then the media! Is it open season on honest men, sir? Do you know that I cannot even set foot outside these walls? Those carrion-eaters from the press are waiting for me. They are camped outside my home. They will not rest until they have gnawed every scrap of flesh from my bones. And for what? I am a man of letters. I do not consort with jewel thieves and I do not know where your damned crown is.’
    â€˜I do not want to ask you about the crown, Professor. What I want to know is whether anyone new has entered your employ in the months since you announced that the museum would host this exhibition.’
    Patnagar’s glistening forehead creased with consternation. ‘You suspect foul play from one of my people? An “inside man”, as they say?’
    Chopra nodded.
    â€˜Impossible! They were all thoroughly vetted.’
    â€˜Nevertheless…’
    â€˜Well, you will have to ask our personnel department for the records but we have taken on quite a few new staff recently. You see, after years of neglect, once New Delhi agreed that we would host the exhibition they could not throw enough money at us. The museum was to be the face of India, sir. A glittering vision of our ancient heritage. A veritable jewel in its own right. Prized footage for those foreign newsreels, you understand.’
    â€˜I understand, sir. Could you please authorise your personnel department to provide me with a list of all those who began work here after you announced the exhibit?’
    The door opened behind Chopra and the harried assistant returned with a glass of lime water, which he handed to the professor.
    Patnagar collapsed back into his seat and morosely eyed the mint leaf floating on top of the glass. ‘I honestly believed this exhibition would be a shot in the arm for the museum. Youngsters these days have no respect for the past. They have no idea how venerable their heritage is, if only they could be bothered to glance up from their masala movies and their nightclubs and whatnot. And as each day passes their memories become narrower and narrower. Do you know the other day I overheard one teenaged oaf asking his friend what all the fuss was about the “little bald fellow in the bedsheet”? Is this what we have come to, sir? Is this the price of becoming a superpower? Oh, what a magnificent ship of fools!’
    â€˜Professor?’
    Patnagar waved a hand at his assistant. ‘Gaekwad here will get you what you need.’

    Chopra arrived back in the Central Gallery to discover a crowd of McTavish’s scene of crime officers gathered around Ganesha, laughing. The crowd parted as he approached.
    Ganesha had settled onto