Dharmesh Singh took another look at the clock before picking up the telephone. It was 2:15 am and he was sleeping peacefully on his bed until the shrill tone of his had telephone disturbed him.
“Hello?” He said without bothering to control the frustration in his voice.
“Dharmesh Singh?”
Dharmesh was sure that the man speaking on the other end was a south Indian because of his accent.
“Yes.”
“I am speaking from the Venkateshwara Aashram (monastery). Somebody just stole a valuable item, sir.”
“Who gave you this number?”
“Your dear friend Harsh Singh gave me this number. We went to college together.”
Dharmesh sighed. It wasn’t the first time that Harsh had given his number to a ‘friend-in-need’. There had been five such cases before. Two of them included suspecting wives who wanted to spy on their husband, and the rest were about objects lost in trains and buses. Dharmesh couldn’t refuse to take these cases, not because he cared about his friend Harsh, but because he respected his organization’s policy of taking all cases no matter how big or small they were.
“I’ll come to investigate it first thing in the morning. Meanwhile, why don’t you guys call the Police?”
The man at the other end muttered something in Tamil or Telgu and then added, “You do not understand. A gem was stolen from us, worth crores of rupees.”
Dharmesh found himself instantly awake.
“Crores of rupees? Where did you get that sort of gem from?”
The man spoke to somebody else in the alien language and then listened to the other man’s reply before speaking to Dharmesh.
“They are saying that it is not safe to talk over the phone. You must come here at once.”
Dharmesh was about to object, but the south Indian disconnected the line.
A thousand questions were swarming in Dharmesh’s mind as he got dressed and drove his SX4 towards the Venkateshwara Aashram. It was 2:40 by the time he got there.
Dharmesh saw a man standing at the gates of the Aashram. Dharmesh parked his car and got out to meet the man. He noticed that too vigilant guards were stationed on the gate.
“I am Krishna Tangirala. We spoke on the phone.”
“Oh yes.”
“Please follow me inside, sir.”
Krishna walked inside the gate but Dharmesh stood still.
“Sir?”
“I am not going any further until you tell me where you got the gem from.”
“I am forbidden to say anything in that matter to anyone, for now let’s…”
“We both know that I’m not moving an inch until you tell me the whole truth.”
Krishna sighed. “Someone gave it to us. A rich businessman, a film-maker I suppose.”
Krishna looked at Dharmesh. He was expecting more questions, but he saw that Dharmesh was satisfied with his answer.
“Good, let’s go then.”
Dharmesh knew about some tax-evading measures the rich used. Donating a valuable asset to a humble Aashram was one of the best ways to do so. First of all, no thief will ever give an Aashram a second glance; also if you get caught giving a priceless asset to an Aashram or monastery, people will mistake it for charity. The best reason was that these holy Aashram dwellers charged only a negligible fee for keeping these valuable items.
It was a perfect way to keep something safe from the eyes of the rest of the world.
