Aired 2 April – 15:37
THIS IS A RUSH TRANSCRIPT. THIS COPY MAY NOT BE IN ITS FINAL FORM AND MAY BE UPDATED.
BARKHA DAS: On 13 January 1898, writer Emile Zola's famous incendiary open letter to the President of France blew the lid off the Dreyfus Affair and caused 'one of the great commotions of history'. Investigative journalist Arun Advani's 2,402-word open letter to the President of India – an impassioned defence of the tribal Eketi, who was wrongly killed for the murder of Vicky Rai – has similarly electrified the nation. The government has been compelled to swing into action. Sub Inspector Vijay Yadav has been arrested and charged with the murder of Eketi Onge. Inspector Rajbir Singh and Police Commissioner K. D. Sahay have both been suspended. A nationwide manhunt has been launched for Ashok Rajput. We have our crime correspondent Jatin Mahajan standing by in front of Mehrauli police station. Let's turn to him for the latest. Jatin, we are hearing reports of commotion outside the police station. What's happening?
JATIN MAHAJAN: It is unbelievable, Barkha. We are witnessing extraordinary scenes. The entire population of the Sanjay Gandhi slum, it seems, has come out on to the streets and surrounded the police station. Slogans are being raised against the police and Sub Inspector Vijay Yadav.
BARKHA DAS: Who is leading the demonstrators, Jatin? JATIN MAHAJAN: It is Munna Mobile, who, you will recall, was himself a suspect in the Vicky Rai murder case. A large number of students have also joined the slum-dwellers. There is considerable anger at the death of Eketi. Arun Advani's latest piece has really galvanized the public. People are saying that they have had enough. They will not tolerate police brutality and high-handedness any longer. They will not have one kind of justice for the rich and another for the poor.
BARKHA DAS: Absolutely, Jatin. In fact, responding to the public sentiment, the government has already announced that a whole host of high-profile cases in which the rich and famous had been let off are now going to be re-opened. A commission is being set up to look at reforms of the police and of the entire system of collecting evidence.
JATIN MAHAJAN: Also don't forget, Barkha, the government has announced another look at the entire compensation package for the victims of the Bhopal Gas Tragedy.
BARKHA DAS: Yes, Eketi's death has also focused the spotlight on Champi Bhopali, the Face of Bhopal. The tribal was in love with her and had promised to cure her blindness. How has his death affected her, Jatin?
JATIN MAHAJAN: Well, Barkha, Champi refuses to believe that Eketi is dead. She claims he visits her every night and talks to her.
BARKHA DAS: Isn't it one of the great ironies of our time that all these years when Champi Bhopali was highlighting the plight of the victims denied compensation in the Bhopal Gas Tragedy, no one thought about her own plight, Jatin?
JATIN MAHAJAN: Precisely, Barkha. All of us remember her as the Face of Bhopal, but none of us thought of doing anything for that face. Only now, following the public outcry over Eketi's murder, have a whole host of individuals and NGOs stepped forward to help her. Sufficient funds have been collected for her plastic surgery. There is even talk of a retinal eye transplant which might restore her vision. So in death Eketi may have done more for her than we, the living, were ever going to do.
BARKHA DAS: Well, Eketi's death has clearly been a much-needed wakeup call for all of us. Are we looking at the dawn of a new India? This is the question I will be posing in Burning Issue immediately after the nine o'clock news. Do join me for that panel discussion. This is Barkha Das reporting for ITN Live.
26
Sting Operation
'Welcome, welcome, Singhania. Come and have some sweets. Today is one of the greatest days of my life. Second only to the day I became Chief Minister.'
'I know, Netaji. I just heard the news on the radio. '
'Yes. Jagannath Rai has been formally charged with the murders of Pradeep Dubey, Lakhan Thakur and Navneet Brar and with the abduction of Gopal Mani Tripathi's son. We couldn't pin the Rukhsana Afsar suicide on him, but it doesn't matter. With Tripurari Sharan turning approver, we have enough to hang Jagannath. Now all the party MLAs who joined him are in hot water. I am demanding two crores from each of them before I agree to take them back. They have to pay a price for their foolishness.'
'So your Chief Minister's chair is safe till the next elections.'
'Why only till the next elections? Haven't you seen the opinion poll in the Daily News? My decision to get rid of all tainted ministers has boosted my approval ratings to 67 per cent. High Command has now given me a totally free hand. I think another term is a sure shot.'
'Jagannath Rai's downfall has been very swift indeed.'
'That bastard thought he was being very clever, getting all his dirty work done by Mukhtar. But these twopenny gangsters can never beat us professional politicians. The idiot believed that just because he was Home Minister he was above the law. He didn't have a clue that I had been having his phone tapped for the last three years. And people can be so indiscreet on the phone.'
'Is that why you never discuss business with me on the phone?'
'One can never be too careful, Singhania. Though no one would dare tap the Chief Minister's phone. (Laughs.)
'So was it you who sent the tapes to Advani?'
'Who else, Singhania? Use a snake to kill a snake. Advani promptly published the tapes, finishing Jagannath's political career and eliminating the biggest threat to my post. It's a pity Mukhtar wasn't allowed to kill Vicky Rai. That would have been the icing on the cake. Why did Shabnam Saxena do something so idiotic?'
'I have no time for Shabnam Saxena. My biggest headache is Ashok Rajput.'
'Ashok Rajput? That fellow who murdered Vicky Rai? What's your connection to him?'
'He is the son of Vinay Rajput, who was my father's masseuse. You know we are originally from Rajasthan. I grew up with Kishore and Ashok in Jaisalmer. When Kishore died, I helped Ashok get that job in the Tribal Welfare Department.'
'Is it true, this story about him wanting to marry his brother's widow?'
'Yes, Netaji. Gulabo was always a bit weird. It was at her urging that Ashok decided to kill Vicky Rai.'
'Aha! So Rajput has already confessed his crime to you.'
'Yes, he has. He told me this was his second attempt. About six years ago he managed to enter the farmhouse with a gun, but his nerve failed him at the last minute. This time round he decided to take advantage of that tribal Eketi. I actually saw Ashok at the party, dressed in a snazzy blue suit. I found it strange that he had been invited to Number Six, but even I couldn't have guessed that he had gained entry to kill Vicky Rai. Now, since 24 March he has been holed up at my Meerut guesthouse. He thought he had got away with murder when the police arrested Eketi, but that Arun Advani is too clever. How he ferrets out information is simply amazing.'
'What are you going to do about Rajput?'
'I have been advising him to go to the police and make a clean breast of it. But he is still hoping for a miracle and has asked me to give you a message.'
'What is that?'
'Ashok Rajput is willing to give you this stunning shivling (sound of unwrapping), if you can somehow save him from the gallows.'
'Arrey, isn't this the shivling that the tribal was trying to steal on the night of the murder?'
(Laughs.) 'No, Netaji. Ashok Rajput had a replica made by a sculptor in Jaisalmer and planted it in the temple in Vicky Rai's garden. What you are seeing is the genuine article, which he stole from Swami Haridas in Allahabad.'
'Wah! What a magnificent piece. So smooth, and what are all these strange letters on it?'
'According to Onge legend, these were engraved by the first man. Chief Minister Sahib, this shivling is the rarest and most ancient antique in the country. It's priceless.'
'I want it, Singhania, and in return I will try to save your friend. Because I know he is innocent.'
'And on what basis are you saying this, Netaji?'
'On the basis of what Delhi Police Commission
er K. D. Sahay told me in confidence. KD and I are old friends. You see, the police discovered another spent .32 bore cartridge in the garden of Vicky's farmhouse.'
'But Rajput fired only once.'
'Exactly. So there was another person who fired a bullet at Vicky Rai that night.'
'It makes sense . . . I thought I heard another gunshot immediately after the first one, but others said it was a cracker burst.'
'It was this second gunshot that actually killed Vicky Rai. The bullet passed cleanly through his body and landed in the garden.'
'But then the police should have found another gun!'
'That is where the problem lies! KD says the police sealed the premises immediately after the first gunshot. So the murderer couldn't have managed to escape. Then they went over the farmhouse with a toothcomb. They frisked each and every person present at Number Six. Checked every vehicle that was parked inside and on the road. But they did not discover any other gun, apart from the six recovered from the six suspects. So they went for the only option available to them. They pinned the murder on Eketi, and suppressed all evidence of the second bullet and the seventh gun.'
'Oh my God! Then who is the real killer?'
'Singhania, you have wealth, but you don't have brains. Now I will tell you who really killed Vicky Rai.'
'Who, Netaji?'
'It was Jagannath's daughter, Ritu.'
'Ritu Rai? But how? And how do you know this?'
'This was revealed to me by my new best friend, Tripurari Sharan. But before I tell you his theory, I have to tell you a little story. I have a man who occasionally works for me called Chhotu Lochan.'
'Oh, that notorious gangster?'
'What can I do? Politics demands both money and muscle. Even Chief Ministers have to keep some pet dogs. Just as Jagannath had Mukhtar, I have Lochan. I have used him for a few operations. '
'Go on, this is getting interesting.'
'Lochan told me that on 20 January he kidnapped a child from Noida, the seven-year-old son of an industrialist who owns four factories. Ransom was set at seventy-five lakhs. The father delivered the money on 26 January, Republic Day. It was put in a black attaché case and left inside a dustbin in an alley behind the Goenka School in Mehrauli. Lochan's man Brijesh was to collect it, but Brijesh's mobile phone was stolen by Munna Mobile. So when Lochan relayed the pick-up location, Munna heard it and made off with the briefcase.'
'Don't tell me! That two-bit mobile-phone thief got away with seventy-five lakhs?'
'Yes. It was with all that money that he befriended Ritu Rai, started a love affair.'
'Then what happened?'
'What always happens. Lochan tracked down Munna Mobile eventually. The tentacles of these people extend everywhere. So he sent in three of his goons, who beat Munna up badly, even broke his fingers, and took back the briefcase.'
'How sad! That is what I don't like about gangsters. The way they resort to violence. I abhor violence. '
'Anyway, the twist in the tale is that Munna never told Ritu about the briefcase, but Ritu told her family about wanting to marry Munna. Both Vicky and Jagannath were completely opposed to it. Tripurari says there were daily show-downs between brother and sister. So when she discovered what had been done to Munna, she thought that Vicky Rai had sent in the goons to teach Munna a lesson, and flew into a rage. Ritu is adept at handling guns. Did you know she is the State air-pistol champion? So on the night of the party, she, too, was in the hall with a gun. It was she who got the fuse taken out of the mains switchboard at a pre-determined time. As soon as the lights went out, she shot her brother with a .32-bore pistol and then hid the murder weapon in some private nook of the house, which the police have not been able to figure out till now.'
'Amazing! So Ritu has got off scot-free?'
'Hasn't she suffered enough, being Jagannath's daughter? Now she is marrying Munna, who, in turn, is getting a hero's role in some film. So it looks like there will be one happy ending at least.'
'Then what should I tell Ashok Rajput?'
'Tell him to stay put while I work out a strategy. And thank him for the shivling. It will have pride of place in this house from today.'
'It is supposed to be the ultimate good-luck charm.'
'I can feel the positive vibrations already. Through the blessings of Lord Shiva, I will now remain Chief Minister for the rest of my life.'
'Now, if you have time, Netaji, can I discuss the Badaun Cement Plant with you?'
'I have time to discuss even the textile mill project. The whole State is yours, Singhania. Now that Jagannath is out of the way, we will enjoy the fruits together.' (Laughter.)
CONFESSION
'Nothing in the world is harder than speaking the truth.'
Fyodor Mikhailovich Dostoevsky, Crime and Punishment
27
The Truth
I COULD TELL you the name I gave the police, but you wouldn't recognize it. A better clue might be the outfit I was wearing. It was a red waistcoat with brass buttons, worn over a white shirt and complemented by pleated black trousers and patent leather shoes. Don't forget those shoes.
No one really took any notice of me. I was deemed to be one of those faceless service people who unobtrusively keep a big party going. I could just as easily have been one of the hordes who fill the streets when there is a big political rally or religious procession, that blur of colour when the TV camera pans over the stands in a cricket match, or in the anonymous queue which forms in front of polling booths during elections.
You want me to be more specific? OK, I was the bearded waiter at the party. I was standing next to Vicky Rai when the lights went out. And I shot him at point-blank range.
If this comes as a shock to you, I apologize. There is something gruesome about murder, about the forcible ending of a life, which doesn't sit well with our conscience and our criminal-justice system. 'Thou shalt not kill' is a biblical injunction, after all. But there are occasions when murder is not only justified, it is necessary. And I am not referring here to legally sanctioned murder: the State executing a terrorist or an enemy soldier killed in war. I am talking about murder as a ritual of righteousness. In the Mahabharata, Arjuna had a duty as a Kshatriya warrior to fight the evil Kauravas on the battlefield of Kurukshetra. I am also a warrior, fighting a righteous war against the forces of evil in society. In killing Vicky Rai I simply did my duty, upheld my dharma.
Please believe me, I had no personal score to settle with Vicky Rai. I am not related to any of the six homeless people he mowed down as a teenager. I had never set eyes on Kishore Rajput, the forest ranger whom he got killed. Ruby Gill was neither my colleague, nor my sister, nor my lover. I didn't know her, never met her.
I presume my action will be seen as vigilante justice. The act of a citizen who takes the law into his own hands when the actions of established authorities are insufficient.
And the actions of established authorities clearly were insufficient. Vicky Rai broke one law after another and received one acquittal after another. The final straw came when he was even exonerated of the murder of Ruby Gill.
Our great epics tell us that when evil becomes all-pervasive, God comes down to restore goodness. With all due respect, that's nonsense. No one comes down from heaven to sort out the mess on earth. You have to clean up the shit yourselves. You have to take off your shoes, hitch up your trousers and wade into the sodden muddy pit.
That is what I did. My conscience left me no other choice.
The middle class is supposed to act as the conscience of the nation, an ethical beacon guarding against the excesses of the upper class and the defeatism of the underclass. It is the middle class which challenges the status quo, which brought about the great revolutions of the world – in France, China and Russia, in Mexico, Algeria and Vietnam. But not in India. Our middle class believes firmly in the preservation of the status quo. Unconcerned with the declining standards in public life, apathetic about the plight of the poor, it indulges in r
ampant consumerism. We have become a nation of voyeurs, hooked on inane soap operas about scheming mothers-in-law and suffering housewives, feeding on the carcass of others' misfortunes, salivating at the break-up of a celebrity marriage, mesmerized by flickering TV images of politicians caught accepting bribes on camera.
I have nothing against voyeurs. I admit, in my younger days even I was tempted occasionally to peep into my neighbour's house, hoping to catch a glimpse of his young daughter taking a bath. But what if instead you catch your neighbour choking his middle-aged wife to death? What do you do then? Do you slink into your bed like a half-guilty thief or do you rush into the neighbour's house and put a stop to the crime?
This was the dilemma I faced when I listened to the tapes of Vicky Rai's conversations. You see, I had been tapping his phone for the past two years, just as the Chief Minister was tapping Jagannath Rai's phone.
When I first began the phone tap, I had no idea what I was getting into. It seemed like a harmless way to ferret out information and it was easy. India is an eavesdropper's paradise. Nobody is bothered about infringement of civil liberties, privacy rights and data protection. All you need is some electronic equipment which can be bought off the shelf from any shop in Palika Bazaar and some connections in the phone department and you are all set for some freelance tapping. I currently have seven intercepts running all the way from Jammu to Jabalpur.
For two years I listened to Vicky Rai's voice on a daily basis. I listened to the favours being exchanged, the bribes being paid, the frauds being perpetrated, the girls being seduced. I heard earnumbing accounts of how laws were broken and subverted, how evidence was falsified, how justice was trampled upon, raped, pillaged and sold to the highest bidder. Every infraction was like a band of iron squeezing my heart. Every injustice was like a nail being driven into my body.
And then, on 17 March, I heard a conversation which set me on fire. I will play you a small clip from that tape. Listen carefully.
'Hello, Vicky baba, recognize me?'