‘Lower your voice,’ laughed Maan.
‘Well,’ said Sarla, ‘she danced, and took off a few of her clothes, and danced some more – and all so suggestively and lasciviously that the women were appalled. The men – well, they had mixed emotions. Pigeon, for instance.’
‘No – no,’ said Pigeon.
‘Pigeon, she sat on your lap, and you didn’t stop her.’
‘How could I?’ said Pigeon.
‘Yes, he’s right – it isn’t easy,’ said Maan.
Sarla gave Maan a look, and continued: ‘Well, anyway, she then set upon Mala and Gopu, and began to caress Gopu in all kinds of ways. He was quite tipsy, and didn’t object. But you know how possessive Mala is of her husband. She pulled him away. But the other woman pulled him back. Quite shameless. Gopu got scolded badly the next day, and all the wives vowed: Never again.’
Maan burst out laughing, Sarla joined in, and even Pigeon smiled, a little guiltily.
‘But you haven’t heard the best part,’ said Sarla. ‘A week later the police raided that Tarbuz ka Bazaar hotel, and it was discovered that the cabaret dancer was a boy! Well, we teased those two unmercifully after that! I can still hardly believe it. He had us all fooled – the voice, the eyes, the gait, the feel of the whole situation – and all along it was a boy!’
‘I suspected it all along,’ said Pigeon.
‘You didn’t suspect anything,’ said Sarla. ‘If you did and still behaved the way you did I’d be even more worried.’
‘Well, not all along,’ said Pigeon.
‘He must have enjoyed himself,’ said Sarla. ‘Fooling us like that. No wonder he could act so shamelessly. No girl would!’
‘Oh no,’ said Pigeon sarcastically. ‘No girl would. Sarla thinks all women are paragons.’
‘Well, compared to men we certainly are,’ said Sarla. ‘The trouble is, Pigeon, you don’t appreciate us. Well, most of you don’t. Maan’s an exception; he always did. You’d better come out of jail fast and rescue me, Maan. What do you say, Pigeon?’
As their time was up, her husband was spared from having to think of an answer. But for half an hour after they left, Maan kept picturing the scene she had conjured up, and kept laughing to himself in his cell. His fellow prisoners could not think what had got into him.
17.32
TOWARDS the end of January Maan’s case came up for committal proceedings before a magistrate. The question at issue was what charges were to be preferred against him, if any.
Clearly, there would have to be a charge-sheet; no policeman, however dedicated he might be to undo his duty or to misuse his discretion, could easily have spoiled such a case sufficiently to issue a ‘final report’, which would have stated that there was no case to answer. The Sub-Inspector could perhaps have tried to go around winning over witnesses in such an attempt, but as investigating officer he had done his job well; and he was unhappy enough as it was that his investigation was being interfered with by his superiors. He knew that the matter was still in the public eye, and he also knew who the scapegoat would be if there was any suggestion of interference with the course of justice.
Maan and his lawyer were both present at the committal proceedings.
The Sub-Inspector stood before the committal magistrate and described the events that had led to the investigation, provided a summary of the investigation itself, submitted the documents relevant to the case, stated that the victim was now definitely out of danger, and asserted in conclusion that Maan should be charged with voluntarily causing grievous hurt.
The magistrate was puzzled.
‘What about attempted murder?’ he said, looking the policeman in the eye, and avoiding Maan’s.
‘Attempted murder?’ said the policeman unhappily, tugging a little at his moustache.
‘Or at least attempted culpable homicide,’ said the magistrate. ‘But from these statements, I am not sure the former charge cannot be made out. Even if there had been grave and sudden provocation, it was not given by the victim. Nor does it appear prima facie that the wound was inflicted by mistake or accident.’
The policeman was silent, but nodded his head.
Maan’s lawyer whispered to Maan that he thought they were in trouble.
‘And why section 325 instead of section 326?’ continued the magistrate.
The former section dealt with grievous hurt; when the case came up for trial, the maximum sentence that could be imposed would be seven years; but for the moment Maan could be let out on bail. The latter section also dealt with grievous hurt, but with a dangerous weapon. This was not bailable, and the maximum punishment was life imprisonment.