The Hope Factory A Novel - By Lavanya Sankaran Page 0,106
with these tales to either his wife or their friends.
She offered no conventional platitudes. Instead, she asked directly: “So do you think he is behind this political party coming after you? Harry Chinappa? Would he actually go that far?”
Anand sighed. He had been debating the same point himself. “No. I don’t think so. Actually, I doubt if he is even aware of it. Family is too important to him—believe it or not—even though he lied about me….” This was something Anand knew, he would never forget and never forgive. But even so, Harry Chinappa wasn’t behind the political parties. “I think Sankleshwar is the man behind it.”
“Fuck,” she said, digesting this, slowly, implications feeding through.
“That’s bad, right?” she said. “So … what is he after? Is it money? Is this Gowda person collecting the money for Sankleshwar?”
Anand did not need to think it through. “Sankleshwar doesn’t need my money. Fuck—it’s peanuts for him. He’s a vicious son-of-a-bitch who is pissed off at me. Thanks to Harry Chinappa. He’s pissed off at me—and wants to teach me a lesson.”
“So he put those political guys onto you?”
Anand looked up at the sky, fighting the tears of anger and fright welling up within him. He hadn’t cried since he was a teenager. “Yeah.”
“He has that kind of political muscle?”
“Yeah. He’s really connected. Apparently, in his early days, there were some very shady deals where he got his political buddies to convert large tracts of greenbelt land into far more valuable industrial through some rezoning—and in return the fucker helped them launder black money into land. And, according to Vinayak, some business of violence in his early years. He got rid of some guy who didn’t want to sell to him….”
“Boy, Vinayak and his stories. Sometimes you just don’t know what to believe … I discount half the things he says.”
“Well,” said Anand, picking up a stone and flinging it against a tree, “that’s what I did too, right? What a fucking mistake. I should never have gotten involved with either Harry Chinappa or Sankleshwar.”
“Anand.” She placed the warmth of her hand on his shoulder. “Don’t be too hard on yourself. You couldn’t have known. But this is a really crappy situation to be in. You know, it’s one thing to hear of the routine daily corruption we all deal with—but I had no idea that this sort of thing happened with companies. How do you function with this sort of political arm-twisting?”
“Jesus, Kavika, this isn’t normal,” Anand said. “I mean, you do hear of politicians and their goons sniffing around certain industries … real estate, for instance. Or liquor. Or mining.”
“Ah. Places that tend to need a helping, corrupt hand …”
“Exactly. Or getting kickbacks from companies who are chasing government orders. But normally they leave us manufacturing or software companies alone. At least if we keep our heads down…. Of course, we still have to deal with what you said: the routine, daily corruption—which is fucking bad enough. But this … thanks to Sankleshwar, they have their claws into us, and they’re not going to back off. It’s scary.”
He could see his emotions reflected on her face. She was appalled. And angry.
“Oh, Anand. That is such bullshit. Bastards! … You know, I remember reading about the company that refused to support one party and, as revenge, the party members planted porn on the company premises and then got the police to raid them and arrest the CEO …”
Anand looked grim. “Yeah, I remember that too. Poor bugger.”
“Sorry, that wasn’t the most comforting thing to say…. So if Sankleshwar can set these guys on you, then presumably he can get them to back off. He’s the guy you must talk to.”
“He’s not returning my phone calls,” said Anand.
The jacaranda and rain trees made a high canopy of green over their heads, filtering the early morning sun. In the distance, they could see the cocker spaniel snuffling along, smelling the long grass, Valmika having released him from his leash.
“Someday,” Kavika said, “I will tell you my own story. Difficult choices there too—and I am not always sure I have made the right ones. It’s not always easy to see, is it?”
Someone had spread birdseed, and a large flock of birds had settled in the spaniel’s path. As he approached, nose and ears to the ground, they rose, the pigeons, in a single gray cloud of fright. The startled dog backed hastily away, almost tumbling over his rear legs, and peered in astonishment at the flying