FORBUNDSBY chapter 12

UNHAPPY INVESTIGATORS, UNEXPECTED TESTIMONY

The enemy moved fast. Late in the night (it must have been late evening in Copenhagen), a message had arrived at India’s ministry of home affairs that director general Ali Yavar, despite prior cautions, had repeatedly acted contrary to the mandate of the joint committee entrusted with the death investigation of Vijay Kumar. The government must look into his conduct and consider replacing him with another competent official at the earliest.

The permanent secretary had herself called Ali Yavar early that morning, chided him as she always did, and asked him to be prepared with a stout defence, as the minister himself might call and ask for an explanation. By 9am, well before Indian government offices showed signs of having begun the day’s business, all this and more had happened. The minister’s personal assistant, called and had asked Ali Yavar to arrive at the minister’s residence immediately. Then the permanent secretary herself called, clarified the matter, and soon enough, the anxiety that might have pervaded the echelons of the bureaucracy that early morning, had been dissipated.

The urgent high-level meeting was called off. It was agreed that the Federation itself, and the police dispensation at Copenhagen had really been at fault and the murder investigation of a distinguished Indian national had been inordinately delayed and was being handled in the most inept manner, and Ali Yavar and his team, were in fact, actually doing his best. The personal assistant had called, and clarified all this once again. However, a reply was to be sent with utmost urgency, making the point as firmly as diplomatic language permitted. The letter was drafted, finalized, signed and dispatched electronically, just after lunch, by when offices would be opening in Copenhagen. Ali Yavar had expected Gry to call, and clear the air around all this, but she had not.

But late that night in Delhi, when offices were closing in Copenhagen, Tony called Ali Yavar and informed him, rather breathlessly, that Tairab had disappeared.

In fact, Tony was trying to reach Tairab in order to get a conversation with him, informally like they had done with Fazal and Kalyna, but someone had got to him before they could. All this could be a coincidence, but for Tony it stank of enemy action. “Ghelchodio”, he said, breaking into his sing-song Parsee intonation, “This is too much. I am not going to spare anyone”.

That afternoon, Tairab had apparently boarded flight ET938 from N’Djamena to Addis Ababa, but there was no record of a connecting flight booked further on the same PNR. Tony had scrambled someone to tail him on his arrival in Addis Ababa, but Tairab never emerged from the terminal building, and records showed that he departed on flight ET724 for Copenhagen, around midnight, on another ticket that was handed over to him on his arrival, a few hours earlier.

Early morning, Ali Yavar absorbed all this news, still having breakfast at his sprawling New Delhi residence. His daughter, also ready and preparing to leave for work, took one look, and asked, “Now what has happened, abba”.

Ali Yavar shook his head ruefully, and answered enigmatically, accompanied by his enigmatic smile, “Tame birds sing of freedom. Wild birds fly. No? John Lennon sang.”

Rubina continued with her aloo paratha, dipping it in yogurt and thought she had grasped the situation, and innovated a saying, “But birds that are caged too long, do not fly away on their own. No?”

Both looked at one another and then Ali Yavar declared conclusively, “And that is what we need to find out today.”

He was already on his phone, when Rubina got up, gave him a hug from behind and rushed off. Before long, Gry was at the other end of the line, and what followed was a cold conversation.

“Are you calling about the letter? Sorry Ali I am not allowed to talk to you about it. It is for our bosses.”

“Madam, I believe my government has replied to the letter. Unfortunately, they do not have anyone less incompetent than I am, and thus might insist on my continuation.”

This made Gry laugh a little and say, “You are really impossible. What do you want now?”

Ali Yavar kept it brief. “Are you aware that Tairab has escaped from the camp. I am not sure how serious this is for the Federation, but because he was an important witness, Lars should be informing all of us. Is that not so? I don’t believe he has. My government still supports the Federation and still meets its funding commitments. Would he like this to be looked into?”

“Okay, okay. But that is not my problem”.

“I will tell you what your problem is, madam”, and then Ali Yavar paused dramatically before continuing, “Tairab is headed for Copenhagen, and might have already landed, if I am not mistaken. I wonder if he has been taken into protective custody. If we don’t hear about this from you, in the next few hours, I will not be responsible for my government taking a firm view about both, the Federation as well your government. An Indian national has died, and no action has been taken. A notice could be sent to the ICC.”

With this, Ali Yavar had intended to disconnect, but he heard Gry mutter, “For fanden”, followed by, “I will wait to hear from my government about your continuation, Ali, but I will check on Tairab, and what the Federation is doing”.

Then she added, “You are impossible”, once again.

Ali Yavar disconnected and with a grin still on his face, called for his car that would drive him the short distance to his office. He had a long day ahead.

Gry, still half-asleep so early in the morning, was surprised to know that the Federation knew nothing about Tairab’s movements, and by the time she alerted the airport at Kastrup, the flight from Addis Ababa had already landed hours earlier. Tairab could be anywhere.

When Ali Yavar checked back with Tony, he reported, “I have everything under control, boss”.

“Careful, Tony, careful”.

He didn’t have a good feeling about how this was going to end, but both knew they had no control over the matter, at least for now.

Tony was the first to get to Tairab’s email. A few weeks back, he had been contacted by a Copenhagen based organization named “Reuniting Families”. After introducing themselves they had asked Tairab about his missing family members. In subsequent mails they asked him for further details, like descriptions and circumstances of the separation. He had then sent them the details. In a few days, he had heard back from them, saying they had good news. Then Tairab had asked them for proof, and they in turn, invited him to Copenhagen, for which the organization would make all arrangements.

What immediately raised suspicion was the discontinuous flight, usually a ploy to throw surveillance off track. Ali Yavar was on the line with Tony.

“Please trace Tairab immediately. I think he knows more than the other witnesses, and he has now walked into a trap, preventing him from giving his testimony.”

Tony vaguely replied, “Hmm”, as though to say, all very good, but how the hell am I supposed to do it. But he had already activated his team in Copenhagen, that had anyway got reinforced due to the Vijay Kumar affair in recent weeks.

In the meanwhile, they received two unhappy communications. The first was from Lars, addressed to the committee and the respective ministries.

We would like to inform you that a person of South Sudanese origin, having refugee status and resident of a camp in the Republic of Chad, has contravened the customary international protection norms, and is understood to have left the host country without adequate notice. He is understood to have arrived in Copenhagen, though this is still to be verified.

Please note, that while he is a potential witness in the ongoing death investigation of late Mr. Vijay Kumar, investigations into his uninformed movements are an internal matter of the Federation, and any information about the same, or any communication from the person, are to be immediately reported to the Federation office.

It has already come to notice, that such information has not been shared in a recent instance, and both, the Indian and Copenhagen police are notified of the same.

Lastly, we are still awaiting the government of India to advise of a suitable replacement for the current committee member, Mr. Ali Yavar, who’s conduct has led to a loss of coordination and mutual confidence in the investigation.

Lastly, it is brought to the notice of all, the said person, as he has contravened the rules of the Federation, is no longer eligible for the international protection usually afforded to refugees, registered and housed in earmarked locations.

The second was a letter from the Copenhagen police, absolving themselves of any responsibility for the information sharing about Tairab, thus laying blame squarely on the Indian representation, who as per them, was to be replaced at the earliest.

Ali Yavar chuckled, and tossed the letters across to Tony, and added with a grin, “Tony, you have got me into deep trouble. I might lose my job for the sake of this bloody case, which is not even moving.”

Tony with mock seriousness, added, “Benchod. This is a really serious panga. We are screwed.”.

The first update on the Tairab affair, arrived from the Indian embassy in Copenhagen, as a garbled SMS had been received and could have been from Tairab himself. It stated:

Help I am followed Indian police director knows me Vijay Kumar case they might kill me. Help please.

Fortunately, Tairab had a mobile phone that he could trust and communicate freely with. Tony himself got online with him, but the communication was only via SMS. “Reuniting Families” had sent a person to pick him up at the airport and put him up in an apartment, somewhere in the centre of the city. On Google he could see his location to be on Farvergade. He felt someone might be overhearing him if he talked, or the apartment might be bugged. What had made him cautious was that the driver who dropped him, was rough, spoke little and in the end, told him not to try and leave the apartment, very threateningly. He had no idea when someone might get back in touch with him. It was already late in the evening. The place was bare; he would need to step out, at least for some food. He was scared.

It was difficult for Tony to sense the danger if there was any. But if there was, then Tairab must know his surroundings, in case he needed to escape. So, he advised him to leave the apartment. As darkness was setting in over the edges of Copenhagen’s inner city, Tairab walked out onto the street.

Tony directed him to turn left and checked with him if he could see the large public building in front of him. Tairab already knew Radhuspladsen. Tony’s plan was to have him turn right and head into the large square in front of Copenhagen’s beautiful townhall, that would have milling crowds at this time of the evening. He could then direct him either to the metro or the busy pedestrian thoroughfare, Stroget.

But for the moment, he was still on Farvergade, isolated and empty at this time of the evening, with just the occasional pedestrian making way home, to one of the few old apartment blocks on the street, part of one of the oldest sections of the city. Just as he was turning right towards the square, he heard footsteps behind him, and he was not sure if he also heard a muffled shout. It was the driver who had dropped him earlier, at the other end of the street, and he was now putting his hand inside his jacket.

Tairab hurried his step, and as he turned right towards the square, he had managed to SMS Tony that he was being followed. He could already see the crowds of the open square, and some reason his eyes fell on the ancient bronze sculptured fountain, most uncharacteristic classical art, a dragon and a bull engaged in a struggle. An Asian family stood by taking pictures. Beyond a group of gypsies sat around some worn out perambulators in which they collected rags and food all day.

Tairab had turned around to see the driver still following him. He turned towards Stroget that was packed with pedestrians at this time of the evening. Even without Tony prompting him, he reckoned he could break free shortly.

Tony had meanwhile instructed the embassy to send a vehicle at the other end in Kongen’s Nytrov and wait by the Hotel DÁngleterre. It would take between 15 and 20 minutes to reach, from Hallerup, at this rush hour.

Tairab had broken into a sweat. The next time he turned around, he saw the driver speaking on his phone, gesticulating with his free left hand, as though pointing to where Tairab was heading. Tairab, even in this moment of extreme panic, remembered the earlier, happier time when he had walked down the same street, with its dazzling Christmas lights. He was now walking past a bakery, which would have been full of spandauer, and cinnamon filled kanelsnegl earlier, but was now finished, and a girl was wiping the empty shelves clean at the end of the day. He passed some street-food stalls, full of hungry tourists, and then came upon the square with a hotdog stand and a café with a few tables. By now, he had received Tony’s message to get to the other end of the street, where someone would pick him up. Tony had also checked on the embassy car’s progress, that was doing well, despite the unusually heavy traffic.

Tairab was now past the corner pizza shop. Some distance ahead, in the crowd, his eye now caught an approaching figure, on his phone, waving with his free hand. This made him turn around to see the driver, still some distance away, waving likewise, and on his phone. There was no doubt in Tairab’s mind, in that split second, that he was now caught between the two. Quickening his pace even further, almost breaking into a run, he took an abrupt turn into the next street that crossed the Stroget, turning right onto Knabrostraede. Paradoxically, even though in the centre of town, these side streets were often empty, dark, with just a few pedestrians, and an isolated pub or two. Tairab could now hear his own footsteps loud on the cobbled street. Before long he could hear another, and then another person.

Tony in that moment abandoned the messaging and directly called the number. It went to voicemail. He tried again, and got through this time. He would hear a breathless Tairab say hello from the other end. Tony calmly instructed him to keep his phone on.

“They are following me, both.”

“Can you get to Kongen’s Nytrov? There will be a car waiting for you. All you have to say is Jai Hind.”

“No, no no. I am lost.”

Tony could hear Tairab panting now, and imagined him to be running. Then he thought, he heard the siren of a police car.

“Can you see a police car? Run towards it. Run”

The sweat was getting into Tairab’s eyes. Blinded, he was now running as fast as he could. The footsteps behind him had speeded up too, upon the cobbled street. He too could hear the siren of the police car, but probably some distance away. He then, all of a sudden, saw the approaching headlights, as the car turned into the street, 100, maybe 200 meters ahead.

He headed, almost blinded into the headlights of the approaching police car, and the sound of its siren, deafening now, cutting out all other noise. At that moment, Tairab remembered his last fateful evening in Juba, alone, separated from his family, and today, years later, alone once again, drawn by the promise of being reunited with them, his dear wife, children and an aging mother, in Copenhagen.

It was then that the one single shot rang out from behind, and Tairab fell, still rushing forward. The phone slipped from his hand and was flung far to the side. Tony, from his years of training, knew these moments very well. It had been another tragic end in a dark alley. Could another turn have made a difference, or another few moments? Perhaps not, as Tairab’s time had come, and it had to be here. In another minute he would have been on the canal, and then looked upon the floodlit spire of Christiansborg, where in 1167, Bishop Absalon of Roskilde had founded this beautiful city.

Tony closed his eyes for a moment and shook his head, while Ali Yavar waited patiently, for him to complete the story, though he knew by now, what it would be.

After the moment had passed, he was surprised to hear his phone ring, and that it was Gry online.

“Ali, we could not save Tairab.”

“I must say, madam, I am surprised that you are contacting me, and telling me all this. But what the hell happened?”

“An anonymous source, informed us of Tairab’s whereabouts, and that he was in danger. We came to know that he was in the central area, being chased by two men. It was all a trap. He was falsely led to believe that he was being reunited with his family.”

“Well, I thought so too. But lately I was getting the feeling that no one wants me on this investigation, so I was not really following what was happening. I am sorry.”

“We sent out a car, but were just a minute late. We could not save him. He was shot at close range in his head.”

“Well, we lose another witness, who probably knew more than the others. That is it”.

“Ali, I am sorry about all this mess. All I can say is that, hang in there. I will talk to my bosses. We need you, especially after all this.”

With this the conversation ended. Ali Yavar sat silently, with Tony across from him, for a few more moments. Before logging off, Ali Yavar had a last look at his emails, and there was one that had come in the last hour. He opened it and even in this tense, sad moment, had his enigmatic smile back.

“What the hell”, Tony asked.

“Before he left the apartment, Tairab, typed out his full testimony. 3247 words the word-processor says, and he safely emailed it to me.

With this, Tony’s eyes too lit up, and he said, “Benchod, why did he have to die then”.

“It is late now, let us read it tomorrow, with a fresh mind”.