I make my plans and wait for an occasion when Swapna Devi is not at home. Two nights later, I see Rani Sahiba being driven away in her Contessa car to yet another party in town, and I break into the grounds of Swapna Palace through a hole in the boundary wall. Lajwanti had explained to me the detailed topography of the house and I have no difficulty in locating the window which opens into Swapna Devi's bedroom. I jimmy open the window and step inside her lavish bedroom. I have no time to admire her massive carved walnut bed or the teak dressing table. I look only for a large framed painting and discover it on the left wall. It is a brightly coloured picture of horses and is signed by someone called Husain. I hastily remove the painting from its hook and discover a square hole in the wall where a steel safe is embedded. I look underneath the left-hand corner of the mattress and find that there is no key there. I am momentarily put off balance, but relieved to discover the key in the right-hand corner. The key fits perfectly into the lock and the heavy door swings opens slowly. I look inside the safe and get another shock. It is practically empty. There are no emerald necklaces and gold bangles. There are just four thin stacks of currency, some legal documents and a black and white photo of a toddler. I don't have to look very closely to know that it is Shankar's picture. I feel no qualms about stealing from the safe. I stuff the four bundles into my pockets, close the safe, return the painting and the key to their original locations and exit the way I came.
I rush to my room in the outhouse, lock the door behind me and sit down to count the loot. The four bundles total 399,844 rupees. I rummage through all my pockets and find 156 rupees.
Together they make exactly four lakh rupees. Looks like even Goddess Durga has given me her blessings.
I put the money in a brown paper bag, hold it tightly in my right hand and rush to the hospital.
As I am entering the Emergency Ward, a bespectacled, middle-aged man with an unshaven face and unkempt hair barges into me. I fall down on the tiled floor and the brown packet slips from my grasp. The currency notes tumble out of the bag. The man sees the notes and a maniacal glint enters his eyes. He starts picking up the notes like an excited little child. For a second I freeze, wondering whether I am seeing a repeat of the train robbery. But after collecting all the notes, the man returns them to me and folds his hands. 'This money is yours, but I beg you, brother, please lend it to me. Save the life of my son. He is only sixteen. I cannot bear to see him die,' he implores like a beggar.
I hastily stuff the notes back into the brown paper bag and try to get rid of him.
'What is the matter with your son?'
'He was bitten by a mad dog. Now he has got hydrophobia. The doctor says he will die tonight unless I can buy a vaccine called RabCure which is only available at the Gupta Pharmacy. But it costs four lakh rupees and there is no way a schoolteacher like me can raise such a huge sum of money. I know you have that money, brother. I beg you, save my only son's life and I will become your slave for life,' he says and starts crying like a baby.
'This money is required for the treatment of someone very dear to me. I am sorry I cannot help you,' I say and enter through the glass door.
The man runs after me and catches hold of my feet. 'Please wait a minute, brother. Just see this picture. This is my son. Tell me how can I live if he dies tonight?' He holds out a colour photo of a young, good-looking boy. He has expressive black eyes and a warm smile on his lips. He reminds me of Shankar, and I hastily look away. 'I told you, I am sorry. Please don't trouble me,'
I say and extricate my legs from his arms.
I don't look back to see whether he is still following me, but hurry over to Nita's bed. Shyam and another man from the brothel are sitting on chairs like guards in front of Nita. They are eating samosas from a soggy newspaper. Nita appears to be sleeping. Her face is heavily bandaged.
'Yes?' says Shyam, chomping on a samosa. 'Why have you come, bastard?' 'I have got the money you asked for. Exactly four lakh rupees. Look.' I show him the bundles of notes. Shyam whistles.
'Where did you steal all this money from?'
'That is none of your business. I have come to take Nita away with me.'
'Nita is not going anywhere. The doctors say it will take her four months to recover. And since you are responsible for her injuries, you'd better pay for her treatment as well. She requires plastic surgery. It's bloody expensive, costing me nearly two lakhs. So if you really want Nita, come back with six lakhs, or my friend here will take care of you.'
The man sitting alongside Shyam takes out a switchblade from his pocket and twirls it in his fingers like a barber about to shave a customer's beard. He grins evilly, showing paan-stained teeth.
