Free Chain of Custody by Anita Nair Page B

hairline. ‘Confidential matter?’ he asked incredulously.
    â€˜Yes,’ the DCP said in his firmest voice. ‘Confidential.’ He paused pointedly, waiting for the ACP to leave his chamber.
    When the ACP had shut the door, Mirza looked at Gowda who had trained his gaze on a paperweight that sat on one of the units, holding down a sheaf of papers someone had brought in.
    â€˜Yes, Gowda, what can I do for you?’ he asked.
    Gowda smiled. ‘It’s about Sub-inspector Santosh, sir.’
    â€˜How is he?’ the DCP asked quietly.
    â€˜He’s fine. He needs to go for voice therapy. But, sir, I think he’s ready to resume duty.’
    â€˜So what’s the problem?’ the DCP asked. ‘You don’t think he is?’
    â€˜He is as ready as he ever will be. But this is a man who has had an almost fatal encounter. So I was wondering if we could assist in the transition from hospital bed to uniform,’ Gowda said carefully.
    The DCP’s mobile beeped. He picked it up and said, ‘Let me call you back.’
    Gowda saw he had the DCP’s full attention. ‘Sir, the CWO at the Neelgubbi station has gone on compassionate leave. The grapevine tells me he won’t return till he can arrange a transfer to his hometown. So I was wondering if …’
    â€˜Good idea,’ the DCP interrupted, smiling. ‘I knew I was going to have to sort it out. Santosh will make a good CWO. In fact, there is a smart assistant sub-inspector called Ratna whom I have identified for the assistant CWO post. I’ll send the orders out. Meanwhile, they can come in for the orientation tomorrow.’
    Gowda rose. ‘In which case, sir, I won’t take up any more of your time.’
    The DCP leaned back in his chair. ‘Don’t give up on running or fitness, Gowda. I know you are a fine officer and I have great hopes for you.’
    Gowda nodded and stepped out. ACP Vidyaprasad stood in the corridor, talking into his mobile phone. A new one, Gowda noticed. The latest iPhone. Where did he find the money for such fancy gadgets? Not on his police salary for sure.
    The ACP gestured to Gowda to stop. But Gowda pretended to read the gesture wrong. ‘An urgent matter has come up, I just heard from the control room. I’ll send you the report by the evening,’ he called out, striding away.
    Gowda raced down the steps, much to David’s astonishment, and ran towards the Bolero.
    â€˜What’s the matter, sir?’ he said even as he ran to catch up with Gowda.
    â€˜We need to leave immediately,’ Gowda said, clambering into the seat.
    â€˜What’s wrong, sir?’ David asked again.
    â€˜I didn’t want to talk to someone,’ Gowda said as they turned onto the main road.
    David grinned. He had seen ACP Vidyaprasad walk in, and everyone knew that Gowda and the ACP were two wrestlers in a ring, sizing each other up all the time. For the moment, it seemed that Gowda was not in the mood to grapple and preferred to flee the spot.

    The Bullet was washed clean. Gowda stood and admired it with the hose still in his hand. The chrome sparkled and even the tyrerims glinted in the twilight. There was a puddle of water around the bike but it would soon dry up, he knew. It was only early March but already summer was on in earnest.
    Gowda heard a mew. He turned around, wondering if a cat had dropped her litter somewhere in the premises. He darted a look upstairs. The previous tenants with their dog had been replaced by yet another young couple. A techie couple who worked at Manyata Park. They never seemed to be home except late at night. The mew again. Why would they have got a pet when they were away all day? Gowda frowned.
    He was on the patch on the side of the house where, on Shanthi’s prompting, the gardener who came once a week had started a vegetable garden.
    â€˜You are going to blitz them if you point your hose directly at the