Last Man in Tower - Aravind Adiga [98]
Mr. Pinto made up the sofa for him; Shelley came from the bedroom with a spare pillow in her blind arms.
Masterji went up to his living room and returned with a smile and a large blue book.
“What’s that for?” Mr. Pinto asked.
“It’s my Illustrated History of Science.” Masterji made a motion of hitting someone on the head with the book. “Just in case.”
The produce stalls were now covered with gunny sacks, and the vendors were sleeping beside them. Mani, the assistant, sat outside the glass door of the Renaissance Real-Estate Agency, yawning.
The office was dark, and the broker’s laminated desk was deserted. Yet Mani knew that business was still going on; his boss might need him.
All the children at Vishram Society knew that below the Daisy Duck clock on the wall of Uncle Ajwani’s real-estate office was the door that led into an inner room. None of them had been in there, and it was variously speculated that the broker used the room to sell black-market pharmaceuticals, pornographic magazines, or national secrets.
Shanmugham had just been led through the office into the inner room; the broker shut the door behind him.
The inner room had a cot with no cover, and two wicker baskets, one full of coconuts, and the other full of coconut shells. Sawdust, masking tape, nails, a hammer lay on the floor. Avoiding the nails, Shanmugham sat down on the bare cot.
“What do you use this room for?”
Ajwani pointed to the treasure hoard in the wicker basket. The coconuts were large and green; a curved black knife lay on top of them. “I buy them wholesale. Six rupees each. Much better than your Coke or Pepsi. Fresh and tasty.”
“A room just for coconuts?” Shanmugham frowned.
The broker slapped the cot. “Not just coconuts.” He winked. “Do you want one now, by the way? Full of vitamins. Best thing for the health.”
“The news, Ajwani. What did you call me here for? Have the old men agreed?”
Ajwani stirred the coconuts with his foot.
“No, things have become worse. Tinku Kothari, the Secretary’s son—hungry eyes—saw them at the school today. He spoke to the old librarian and got the facts. They were looking up the numbers of Masterji’s old students and calling them from the library phone.”
“Is this a problem?”
“No. People respect a man like Masterji. No one loves him. No one will help him.”
“So why did you call me here, Ajwani?”
“Because that wasn’t the only thing the librarian told Tinku. He said: they are going to see a lawyer. Tomorrow.”
“Where?”
“That I don’t know. They may bring something back with them. Business card, brochure. It will end up in their rubbish.”
“Let’s call them right now. You call them. You’re so good at it.”
Ajwani chuckled. He picked up an imaginary phone receiver and lowered his voice an octave. “Old man, sign the paper. Or we’ll break your head. We’ll play with your wife. They were more frightened when I spoke to them.” Ajwani beamed. “Admit it.”
Shanmugham picked up a coconut and tapped it with his finger. “You’re a natural at this, Ajwani. You should be working for us full-time. You and your wife.”
“Wife? She just text-messages me when Masterji enters or leaves his room. I’m the one making the calls. It’s good that you’re giving me a sweetener, but I’d do it anyway. I like this work.”
The broker’s face broadened with pleasure. Even though they were alone in the room, he moved closer to the Tamilian, and lowered his voice.
“Tell me what you’ve done. A few things you’ve done.”
With his fingers poised above the coconut, Shanmugham looked up.
“What do you mean, done?”
Ajwani winked. “You know. For Mr. Shah. Things like this. Phone calls, threats, action. Tell me a few stories.”
“You don’t do these things yourself,” Shanmugham said. “Usually get someone else. Some eager fellow from the slums. No shortage.”
“Tell me. I won’t tell anyone. I promise.”
A corner of Shanmugham’s lip rose; his tongue cleaned his angular tooth. “We’re partners now. Why not?” He rotated the coconut in his hands.
Three years ago. A tough redevelopment project in Chembur. One old man had refused to sell his flat. Mr.