Chain of Custody by Anita Nair

felt strangely discomfited. Had David seen her? Then he quashed the thought. Even if he had, he knew he had the unswerving loyalty of his men. The handful of them who formed part of his crime team. He smiled as he saw PC David reverse the Bolero, pretending not to see Urmila standing across Gowda’s threshold.
    â€˜I was planning to, but it’s been a while since we had some time together and who knows what you will get busy with tomorrow,’ she said quietly.
    Gowda sighed and sank into a chair. Urmila had been busy. She had dusted and cleaned the house and cooked dinner. In her own home, he knew she didn’t lift a finger except to ring the buzzer that would fetch her minions. Sometimes he thought hewas part of a little girl’s fantasy of playing house. A middle-aged, sagging-at-the-middle, blurred-at-the-edges Ken to her still sprightly Barbie.
    He knew something was troubling her, when she seemed to show no sign of leaving at about ten as she usually did. ‘Would you like to spend the night here?’ he had asked.
    She had nodded. ‘I would like that very much.’
    And just like that, it had happened. Another rung climbed in their relationship – the first time in nine months they had spent a whole night together. Usually, Urmila would stay on late into the night or come over early, even before sunrise. Neither Gowda nor Urmila had spoken about it but by silent tacit compliance they knew it would be taking a chance. And that this beautiful whatever-it-was between them would fall apart like a house of cards if it was discovered. Right now, Urmila was Gowda’s college friend; a social activist who as part of her activism was calling on her good friend’s offices; all of that was seen as aboveboard. And if Urmila alone seemed to ease the habitual frown that Gowda wore on his forehead, or if she seemed to enjoy certain liberties with his time or space, no one made too much of it. She was a good-looking woman, well-connected and charming. What man could be impervious to that?
    A whole night together in his home. What had he been thinking? But he had needed her to be with him. And it seemed she too had been stricken by that same malaise – a combination of dejection, helplessness, a sense of futility, an abject loneliness. Their lovemaking that night had all the desperation of two survivors on the open seas clutching at each other. A whole night together, spooning each other. A night fraught with strange nameless uncertainties. The only consolation came from knowing ‘I at least have this’.
    â€˜What’s wrong?’ Urmila whispered.
    â€˜Nothing,’ Gowda said. He lay back and turned towards her, draping his arm around her waist. The whites of their eyes glowed in the faint light from the moon, visible through the window.
    â€˜Can’t you sleep either, Urmila?’ he asked gently.
    â€˜Yesterday afternoon, two boys I was taking to the shelter vehicle ran away,’ Urmila said softly.
    â€˜Were you at the rescue unit?’ Gowda asked. ‘I walked past it. In fact, I stopped by the door … But I didn’t see you …’
    â€˜I must have been on one of the other platforms. The staff brought in a young man with three boys. And two of them escaped. I worry about what will happen to those children now. Jogan and Barun. Those were their names.’
    â€˜Don’t beat yourself up over it,’ Gowda said, drawing her to him. ‘They would have been told by the trafficker what to do. And even if it was someone else in charge, the boys would have done the same thing.’
    â€˜I know. That’s what they told me, but I still feel I failed the boys in some way. What about you, Borei? What’s troubling you?’ she said, cupping his face in her palms.
    He closed his eyes as her thumbs stroked his cheeks with a gentle pressure. ‘Too many things. The absconding Chikka. Santosh. And now Shanthi’s missing daughter.