Chapter 4 #2
I made a note of all the families whose lands ran up to the border between India and Pakistan.
Because only people with free access to that border could provide safe passage across it.
You couldn’t build tunnels under someone’s land without their knowledge.
I texted Col. Bhagat to send me maps of the existing tunnels that the special forces had sealed until now, so that I could narrow down the possible culprits.
Then, I called one of my oldest friends, a man who had successfully driven the local mafia off his lands and was working to shut the down - His Highness Randheer Shekhawat, the Maharaja of Trikhera.
“How the hell did you get dragged into this mess?” he grumbled.
“I have a personal stake in this, Dheer. I need to find the rat who’s running the cross-border smuggling.”
“It’s not as easy as that, Samrat. The bastards are more organised than the corporate world. Each part of the business is run like its own department, and nobody knows anything about any department other than their own.”
“How do I find the guy who arranges for the use of private land to build their tunnels?”
“Well, there’s only one man who can help you with that. Have you heard of Kirorimal Talati?”
“I think he used to visit my father when I was a boy. He helped Daata Hukum mediate a land dispute that had gone on for years. Can you arrange for me to meet him at his house? He’ll be less inclined to turn down my request for help if I’m a guest in his house.”
“Done,” said Dheer, and he was as good as his word.
The next day, I showed up at Kirori Ji’s door promptly at seven pm, after Dheer wrangled a dinner invitation for me.
“Khamma Ghani, Hukum. Welcome to my humble abode,” he said, without any sense of irony, considering that his humble abode was a grand haveli just outside Jaipur.
I bent and touched his feet in a sign of respect, and his shrewd face became even sharper. Kirori Ji was a very smart man. And not easily taken in by obvious shows of respect, I noted.
“As you know, Kirori Ji, I have just taken control of the estate after Bhai Sa’s death. And I wanted to touch base with you since Daata Hukum spoke very well of you.”
“Of course! And I’ve always been a loyal servant of the house of Deorangir,” replied Kirori Ji. “You can count on my support in every way.”
His family treated me to a grand dinner in true Marwari style, and it was after the post-dinner paan that Kirori Ji sent the rest of his family scurrying out of the room with a nod of his head. I knew it was now time to talk business.
“Kirori Ji, earlier this evening, you said I could count on your support in every way. Is that true?” I asked bluntly.
“Word of a Rajput, Hukum. How can I help you?”
“Well, I need some information, and it’s a sensitive matter.
I’m sure you’ve heard of some cross-border tunnels being sealed by the special forces.
There was one that was quite close to my land, and try as I might, I couldn’t find the name of the person who owns that land.
The land deed is in the name of some company, but I think that’s a shell company, which is in turn owned by another shell company.
How do I find the person behind the company name? ”
Kirori Ji groaned heavily and turned to glare at me.
“Didn’t you have enough of war-mongering when you were in the army? Why are you stirring up more trouble for yourself?” he asked angrily.
“I can’t believe you’d ask a Rajput if he’s tired of war-mongering,” I said dryly. “It’s like you don’t know us at all.”
“Trouble-makers, the lot of you,” he replied in disgust. “None of your fathers ever gave me so much trouble, but the new generation of Trikhera, Jadhwal, and Mirpur royals practically turned every strand of hair on my head grey in the last year alone. And now you show up to add fuel to the fire!”
“Come now, Kirori Ji! Dheer wouldn’t have referred me to you if he wasn’t sure you’d help me.”
“Of course, I’ll help you,” he said crankily. “But if someone tries to kill me after this, you will answer to my wife, Hukum. And trust me, she is not a woman you want to cross.”
“I believe you, Kirori Ji.”
“Good! Now, why are you digging into matters that have nothing to do with you?”
“How do you know it has nothing to do with me?” I countered.
“Because none of those tunnels were anywhere near your land, Hukum.”
“So you do know a lot about the matter?”
“I make it my business to know everything that goes on around here, Hukum.”
“Kirori Ji, does the why of it matter?”
“The why always matters, Hukum,” he replied sombrely. “What do you plan to do with the knowledge?”
“I can’t tell you that. You’ll just have to trust me. All I want to know is which royals are allowing their lands to be used for smuggling.”
Kirori Ji gave me a bleak smile.
“All of them, Hukum.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Do you know how many royal families there are in these areas, Hukum? Too many to count! Every ten miles is a new thikana or jagir. And not all those people have palatial estates they could turn into luxury hotels. Some families did whatever they had to do to survive and keep whatever lands they had after the government gouged them. And a lot of them agreed to look the other way while their lands were used for nefarious purposes.”
“Do you mean to tell me that a lot of royal families here are involved in cross-border smuggling?” I demanded.
“Not at all, Hukum. They just choose not to know what is happening on their lands. A lot of them don’t even live here. So it’s easy to take the money that’s offered and stay away from the areas near the border.”
“Well, who’s offering the money?”
“That’s what nobody knows. I mean, I’m sure some people know, but those that do, aren’t talking,” Kirori Ji replied sadly.
“And do you have any ideas on how to get them talking?”
“They aren’t going to talk to an army man for sure,” he said, with a smile. “But they might talk to a fellow royal. Especially one who’s looking for a new source of income.”
When I returned to the palace that night, Hira Singh brought me a card on a salver. It was an invitation to the Mirpur Royal Gala. I turned the card over with my fingers a few times as I wondered if it was time to dip my toes into my social circle. At least, I’d have some friends at this party.
Just then, I got a text from Ranvijay, the Maharaja of Mirpur, and another of my old friends.
“Just heard that you got an invite to my mother’s party. Beware! It’s a trap. She’s out to find you a wife.”