The bored voice on the PA system droned in Virkar’s ears as he stood in the middle of the passenger concourse at the Churchgate railway station. He had been standing at the same spot for the past fifteen minutes. It was nearly 5.30 p.m. and the station was buzzing with activity. Local trains arrived and left the station in quick succession. People jostled past Virkar, paying no heed to his stationary position. The stench from the moist armpits of the men and women who had put in an honest day’s work and were how going home began to tickle Virkar’s nostrils but Richard, who was standing next to him, wore an air of nonchalance, as if he was used to doing this regularly. He shifted his position with expertise to avoid brushing against eager passengers rushing to catch their regular evening local. Earlier that morning, Virkar had received a call from Richard that an associate of his had some information on the sketch he had circulated. Virkar had wanted to rush to meet the associate immediately but according to Richard, the unnamed associate was ‘shy’ of the police and would only meet with them at his choice of venue.
