The Crow Chronicles, page 16
Needless to say, not a perch was vacant at the venue of the conference—an acacia shrouded island near the Saponmori heronry. Speculation ran rife.
‘My God, whatever happened it must be pretty serious. Otherwise the PM would never have bothered to meet us without our asking.’
‘Dammit! We got caught with our trousers down! Not a single reporter got wind of this story. It’s a day of shame!’
‘What do they mean, “divested of personal effects” . . .?’
‘A couple of tail feathers they say! What do they mean? Doodhraj’s tail feathers are eighteen inches long!’
‘Oh hell! They took his most valuable asset. What’ll he do without his tail!’
‘High time they do something. This park is going to ruin. Its becoming like a kawe ka adda.’
‘And all they do is organize song and dance festivals.’
‘Do you think Billa and Budhboo are behind this?’
‘Hush! Even honourable members of the press have dishonourable ears.’
‘Certainly those two have a lot to answer for. After all they’re responsible for security.’
The press corps chattered away, excited, indignant and animated, and still feeling a trifle foolish for having missed the story. Titiri stood aloof, a withering, sceptical look on his face. He had still to recover from the revelation that his staff had been caught out sleeping on the job. Even Ghughuji, pontificator on all subjects under the sun and moon, was present, though he betrayed not the slightest signs of interest, emotion, or indeed of life.
Then, with a sudden flurry of whistles and calls, the Prime Minister’s entourage came speeding in. And, as one bird, the entire press corps gaped and fell silent.
For there, flying abreast of the Prime Minister (though Kaw had been informed this was against protocol), was a huge, dazzlingly white bird as large as a herring gull, whose eyes pulsed and glowed like warning lights on a dangerous night (or so thought Titiri). In tight wedge formation behind him flew five immaculate house crows led by a glossy jungle crow of impressive stature. The entire group was surrounded by the usual security corps of black drongos and night herons.
What the esteemed members of the press corps did not know (nor for that matter did the Prime Minister and his two honourable henchmen), was that the five immaculate house crows had visited the park some hours ago on the very assignment that had precipitated the current crisis. Kaw had insisted that the hitbird team accompany him and Craven Raven to the press conference—and they had been delighted. Kaw was determined to enjoy his first pound of flesh at the cost of the ruling elite of Keoladeo.
Gradually, the press corps recovered.
‘Good grief! What’s that?’ exclaimed Phutki in her siren voice. ‘He looks like an angel from the very bowels of hell!’
‘Something serious is on. Make no mistake. This is history in the making!’
But already, Budhboo had taken the podium and had begun addressing the gathering. This too was a departure from the normal procedure, for it was the job of the press adviser to the Prime Minister to do this. Several members of the press corps exchanged meaningful glances. The murmurs died down as Budhboo began to speak.
‘Ladies and gentlemen of the press, good morning! First of all we would like to thank you for gathering here at such short notice—we know you are extremely busy. You will have read in our press release of the distressing events of last night—coming so soon after the glorious success of the festival’s inaugural ceremony. The Prime Minister would now like to say a few words to you about this. Ladies and gentlemen, the Prime Minister, Shri Pinky Stink Tainted Storkji!’
‘His domed orange forehead looked like an oversized, aged walnut,’ composed Titiri, quickly scribbling it down, as the Prime Minister clattered his beak and looked through his spectacles.
‘Good morning,’ he said. ‘Firstly, I would like to say that I and my government deeply regret and strongly condemn the dastardly deed that was done last night. One of our most honoured guest artistes was brutally and in a most cowardly way attacked in the dead of night!
‘You can rest assured that a massive birdhunt has been launched and the perpetrators of this heinous crime (who were now winking at one another not a beak’s length away) will be brought to justice in short order!
‘This incident, in fact, highlights the greater problem of law and order in this park. My government is fully cognizant of the fact that incidents of this kind have been occurring with increasing frequency.’ The Prime Minister looked at the journalists in front of him and continued drily, ‘In fact, you have been at pains to point this out very loudly. You are aware that we suspect the hand of the outlawed Pakshi Virudh Samiti in these incidents. We do indeed very strongly suspect their hand in the incident that occurred last night. I must re-emphasize that my government will not, at any cost, permit the wonderful avifauna of the Keoladeo to be held hostage by a group of terrorist hitbirds!’
Billa and Budhboo led a small ripple of applause, though the press remained stony-eyed and silent.
‘It is for this reason that my government has thought it fit to enlist the services of the internationally renowned Shri Khatarnak Kala Kaloota Kawa Kaw Kaw. His reputation in eliminating terrorist bird outfits is perhaps unparalleled in the avian kingdom!
‘Shri Kaw is a redoubtable bird in every sense of the word. Till recently he was the Governor Bird of Bombay—the vast and powerful metropolis. He and his band of commando crows maintained law and order in that tough, ruthless city with total success!
‘Shri Kaw has very kindly agreed to help us and along with his crack team will assist Shri Billaji in smashing the criminal conspiracy aimed at destabilizing our beloved park. In fact, Shri Kaw has promised to return to Shri Doodhraj, personally, his stolen . . . er personal effects.’
And for once it could be said with complete truthfulness that the hardpecked press corps of the park listened to their Prime Minister with almost reverent attention. This was hard news, big news—very big news indeed!
It was, as usual, Phutki who recovered her wits first.
‘My God!’ she muttered incredulously, ‘they’re enlisting mercenaries now! Something is rotten in the state of Keoladeo!’
But it was Titiri who came up with the most relevant question, though one he could hardly ask the Prime Minister.
If, as it was universally acknowledged, even though there was no proof, Billa and Budhboo were masterminding the criminal activities in the park, how and why did they agree to employ an allegedly crack anti-terrorist mercenary outfit to investigate the matter?
And the answer that made itself obvious to the venerable editor made his blood run cold: Were the bandicoot and tomcat employing this mercenary in order to let loose an even harsher reign of terror in the park?
Or, giving them the benefit of the doubt, were they actually running scared of the Pakshi Virudh Samiti—which was indeed responsible for all that had happened?
There was a lot of finding out to be done.
The Prime Minister droned on.
‘Shri Kaw has assured me that by working in collaboration with Shri Billaji and Shri Bundicootji, he will be able to crack the Pakshi Virudh Samiti like an eggshell. I would appreciate it if you would cooperate with him in every way and render him every assistance he may require. Shri Kaw would now like to say a few words, and then you may ask us your questions. Thank you!’
And thus, for the first time, Kala Kaloota found himself facing the press corps of the park.
‘Thank you for your kind words, Mr Prime Minister,’ he began quite warmly and Craven Raven looked pleased. It seemed that his boss had finally managed to disguise that chainsaw voice of his.
‘Esteemed birds of the Keoladeo National Park press. For years I have admired your wonderful park and have dreamt of living here. Just when I was able to make this wonderful dream come true, I was told of the serious problems you face here today. I was shocked and distressed beyond measure. It is indeed sad that there are elements here that are trying to undermine the unity and integrity of this beautiful place. I feel it is my bounden duty to do my utmost to rid the park of this sinister menace. I give you my word of honour that I and my team of commando crows will do our best to rid the park of this scourge they call the Pakshi Virudh Samiti. Any such organization threatening the future of the Keoladeo must be ruthlessly destroyed!’
Kaw paused, enjoying the attention he was receiving. A whisper from Craven Raven reminded him of the diplomatic niceties he still had to observe.
‘Working, of course, in close cooperation with your esteemed Shri Billaji and Shri Bundicootji, who have done such honourable work for the good of the park.’ The inflexion of irony was only barely perceptible.
‘Some of you may be wondering,’ he admitted with mock humbleness, ‘why a strange bird has been brought in from outside to investigate an internal matter of such importance. And, is this right? Well, as your respected Prime Minister has so flatteringly pointed out, I do have some considerable experience in such matters. Bombay used to be a city where crime ran rampant. Perhaps my greatest success in that city was when I broke up the terrible mafia that had been terrorizing the posh Malabar Hill area of the city. I shut down that evil mafia—personally and single-handedly, for this was before I was made Governor Bird of that city. In fact, it was for this reason that they gave me the great honour. And I am happy to inform you that till I left that city, there were no major criminal networks in operation. And that is what I would like to achieve here, working with your government!’
‘Good God!’ muttered Titiri, quite appalled, ‘this guy is talking as though he’s taking over the show! There are traces of megalomania here!’
And the red-wattled lapwing would have been utterly horrified had he realized how close to the truth he had got.
Budhboo, slightly alarmed by Kaw’s rhetoric, had taken over again.
‘All right, ladies and gentlemen! You may now ask your questions. But kindly be brief and to the point please.’
Titiri, as senior-most editor in the gathering, got the first shout.
‘I am Shri Titiri, of Did-He-Do-It? Mr Prime Minister, this is addressed to you. Can you state categorically that the Pakshi Virudh Samiti is behind this latest outrage?’
The Prime Minister shuffled his green-black feathers and peered myopically at Titiri.
‘Shri Titiri, we have certain evidence that suggests the involvement of that organization,’ he said.
Titiri closed in for the kill. ‘What evidence, Mr Prime Minister?’ he asked bluntly. ‘This has been going on for too long now. Every time there is an incident of this kind, your government conveniently blames the PVS. Yet the government has not produced a shred of hard evidence to suggest the existence of this organization. And this, despite the formidable security set-up under Shri Billaji and Shri Bundicootji. Would you care to comment, sir?’
Billa turned angrily to Budhboo. ‘That bastard’s sailing too close to the wind! I keep telling you it’s about time we shut him up—for good!’
‘Hush . . . let’s see how the PM handles this one,’ murmured Budhboo, ever ready to glide in at the first sign of trouble. The Prime Minister had turned to Titiri, his expression set.
‘Mr Titiri, let me assure you that we are absolutely convinced that the PVS does in fact exist, and is a vital threat to the integrity and unity of the park. You will appreciate that we cannot reveal very much more to you for fear of hampering our investigations. Next question, please!’
Phutki bobbed up and down. ‘Phutki from Pataka magazine,’ she said. ‘The question is for Shri Kaw: Shri Kaw, you have just told us that you single-handedly and personally destroyed the mafia that was terrorizing Malabar Hill in Bombay, before you actually became Governor there. Exactly how did you do that?’
‘Well, I terminated the contract of the leader of that evil mafia in personal beak-to-beak combat!’
The journalists stirred restively. Phutki zeroed in again.
‘And after that? What happened? The mafia collapsed on its own?’
‘Well, let us put it this way, Miss-er-Phutki: I have always led by example. After I had exterminated the mafia don, my first task was to train and motivate a team of birds who could carry out the most dangerous law enforcement tasks successfully. In that, I am happy to inform you, I was also successful: very soon no mafia could stand up to us. The crownies today are a crack commando outfit ready for the most dangerous adversaries. We should have the Pakshi Virudh Samiti by the filoplumes in no time at all.’
An intense young brahminy myna raised his wing, his crest rising along with it.
‘Mr Prime Minister, it is well-known that violence begets violence. You say the PVS is responsible for the various acts of violence in the park. So now you have brought in this, this . . . er commando team from outside—to ruthlessly snuff them out. Wouldn’t it be better if you enter into a dialogue with the Samiti and find out what they want?’
The Prime Minister nodded his head sagaciously. ‘That is a very good question! We are always open to dialogue and even at this stage are willing to talk to them. Unfortunately, they have not come forward for talks and are continuing to commit their acts of aggression in this park. That cannot be tolerated, I am afraid, and I hope you will agree!’
‘It has been mentioned in the press release that Shri Doodhraj Maharaj was divested of his tail feathers. These are the magnificent pair of eighteen-inch feathers with which he gave his performance, are they not? Could you confirm that please?’
Pinky Stink looked disturbed and Budhboo waited expectantly. At last the Prime Minister spoke. ‘The press release says tail feathers—I think that is clear enough,’ he snapped. Budhboo exhaled with relief.
‘What is the government doing to make good the damage done to Shri Doodhraj’s career? And is Shri Doodhraj likely to sue the government for this monumental neglect?’
‘We are . . . er, presenting Shri Doodhraj these as a humble token of our regret for the unfortunate incident.’ The Prime Minister held up the magnificent set of imported ostrich plumes for the press corps to see. ‘And no, he does not intend suing the government.’
‘My God!’ Phutki’s gin-laced voice was at its penetrating best, ‘now they want the poor dear to join the cabaret!’
The questions came on, thick and fast.
‘Where is Shri Doodhraj? We would like to meet him!’
‘Shri Doodhraj has been advised rest. He is not allowed to have any visitors yet.’
‘Where is he? We want to make sure he is quite safe!’
A sarcastic ripple of laughter ran through the press corps. Budhboo stepped into the fray.
‘Shri Doodhraj is quite safe and at a location we are not at liberty to disclose as a security measure!’ he said in his best public relations voice.
‘Oh God! They’ve taken the poor dear to the Ghana Ghouls Ghonsla,’ exclaimed Phutki again, sotto voce, and not realizing she had hit the nail on the head.
Titiri raised his wing again, his wattles agog.
‘This press release of yours says nothing about the modus operandi involved. We would like to know exactly what happened. Also, how was such tight security breached? Who is taking responsibility for the incident?’
The Prime Minister indicated that Budhboo field the question.
‘We suspect that a gang of maybe fifteen or twenty birds were involved in the attack. First one group basket bombed the tree where Shri Doodhraj was roosting, using High Hysteria Chicken Basket Bombs. Then a group of at least ten hitbirds attacked Shri Doodhraj and his bodyguards—who I must say fought back splendidly. Unfortunately they were outnumbered and stunned by the bombing attack and the terrorists were able to take away Doodhraj’s tail. We suspect that they had really wanted to kidnap the maestro but were unable to do so due to the stiff opposition put up by his bodyguards.’
‘Good lord!’ Phutki was enjoying herself. ‘It sounds more like a major military operation than merely an attack by terrorists!’
But Titiri was looking very serious indeed.
‘Don’t you feel, Mr Prime Minister,’ he said with heavy sarcasm, ‘that in the face of this thoroughly shameful and deplorable incident, it would be morally obligatory for the Chief of Security and the Chief of Intelligence to submit their resignations?’
Both Billa and Budhboo tensed, wondering how the Prime Minister would deal with the question. They didn’t put it past the fool to entirely (and unwittingly) agree with what Titiri was trying to tell him to do. Billa turned to a Ghana Ghoul perched behind him.
‘Mark that bird well,’ he hissed. ‘I want his wings broken by nightfall!’
The Prime Minister had decided to deal with the question.
‘It would serve no practical purpose if Shri Billaji and Shri Budhbooji were to step down at this juncture. It would in fact only hamper our investigations.’
The duo relaxed. To seal their case, Budhboo smiled and raised a paw.
‘If I may further clarify the matter,’ he said, ‘both Shri Billaji and myself did indeed offer our resignations to the Prime Minister as soon as we heard of this terrible incident. The Prime Minister persuaded us to stay on for the reason he has just stated. However, rest assured, if any officer has been found wanting in this case—he will have to go!’
And Kotwal, Chief of Police, knew that he was being offered up as the sacrificial chicken.
Pinky Stink rattled his beak in surprise at this total fabrication but soon realized that what Budhboo had said was probably the most sensible thing under the circumstances.
‘If Doodhraj was so well-guarded, how come the attack was a complete success and not a single arrest was made? Would you like to comment on that, sir?’
Pinky Stink passed the question to his Chief of Security. Billa glared at the questioner—a smart-assed young red-vented bulbul whose career as an investigative reporter was doomed by his own question.
‘Actually, you will be glad to know that arrests have been made in this case,’ the Chief of Security said, to everyone’s surprise. (Lest the surprise turn nasty, the crownies braced themselves to attack, and Kaw was once more gratified that his training had paid off.) Billa went on:
