Vikas Swarup - Six Suspects

'Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde?' Varshney interjects.

'Have you seen this report, Babloo Saab?' Tirumurti points to the newspaper in his hand. 'It says that judgment in Vicky Rai's case has been postponed to 15 February.'

'What difference does it make when they pronounce the verdict? The outcome is already known to everyone.' Babloo waves dismissively.

'Yes, there is no justice in this country,' Tirumurti sighs. 'A man like Gandhi Baba is in jail and a murderer like Vicky Rai is out on bail.'

'We have entered the heart of darkness,' Varshney says gravely.

The mention of Vicky Rai makes Mohan Kumar suddenly alert. His brow furrows and his pupils dilate. 'Vicky Rai… Vicky Rai… Vicky Rai,' he mumbles, as though someone has raked an old wound.

'I am going to make a wager on this case. I will bet you a million to one that Vicky Rai will walk free,' Babloo declares.

'I agree,' Tirumurti nods his head.

'He will be gone with the wind,' adds Varshney.

'What is this?' Mohan berates them. 'You people are speaking as if the British are still ruling India. In those days, I agree, justice was denied in ninety-nine cases out of a hundred. But now we are our own rulers. I am sure Vicky Rai will get his just desserts. We should have faith in the judiciary.'

'Fine, Gandhi Baba, we shall see who is proved right on 15 February,' says Babloo and shivers slightly.

'Have you got a fever?' Mohan asks with concern.

'No. It is just a passing chill,' Babloo says.

'It is the winter of our discontent,' says Varshney.

Over the next two days, Babloo's behaviour becomes increasingly bizarre. He gets agitated over small things, complains frequently of nausea and blurred vision and has bouts of uncontrollable shaking. Out of the blue he starts suspecting Varshney of being an informer and warns him to keep his distance. He stops eating completely, and refuses to leave the cell. At night he curls himself up and rolls back and forth on the stone floor like a man in terrible pain.

Tirumurti is quick to diagnose the ailment. 'Babloo is having withdrawal symptoms, now that he cannot get his cocaine any longer. We must try and somehow get him his fix, otherwise he will die.'

'I don't agree,' Mohan says firmly. 'A doctor who panders to the vice of his patient degrades himself and his patient. Babloo doesn't need drugs. He needs kindness and companionship.'

'Love in the time of cholera,' opines Varshney.

Mohan's arrival at the prayer meeting the next day causes considerable commotion. He delivers a long and impressive monologue on the dangers of drug addiction, the importance of faith and the benefits of celibacy. He asks for a personal introduction from each prisoner, questioning them in detail about their personal histories and periods of detention. He seems unusually solicitous of people's health, offering several home remedies to a prisoner who has complained of colic pain. He appears to be fascinated by the library, checks out the PA system to determine whether it plays any bhajans, and at lunchtime asks the cook for goat's milk.

He starts sleeping on the floor, insists on cleaning the toilet himself and is happy to clean the toilets of others as well. He begins to keep a silent fast once a week, claiming that abstaining from speaking brings him inner peace.

A prison is fertile ground for the emergence of leaders. It contains the dregs of society, willing to cling to any hope to help endure the rigours of prison life. Gandhi Baba quickly attracts a large fan base, his chief disciple being Babloo Tiwari, who is almost cured of his addiction.

'Do you know what is the hardest thing in the world, Gandhi Baba?' he asks Mohan one evening.

'To kill a mockingbird?' Varshney offers hopefully.

'No. To awaken faith in a man who has forsaken religion. I am eternally grateful to you, Gandhi Baba, for opening my eyes to the benevolence of God.'

'So will you sing Vaishnav Janato with me at tomorrow's prayer meeting?' Mohan asks with a twinkle in his eye.

'Not only that, I am going to shave off my hair and become a vegetarian.'

'That is wonderful. Now if you would only stop your criminal activities as well…'

'Consider it done, Gandhi Baba. Babloo Tiwari the gangster is dead.'

'A farewell to arms,' Varshney quips.

Several other inmates follow Babloo's example and become vegetarian, causing prison officials to revamp the meal plan. Mohan encourages the prisoners to paint and has their paintings sold through a website set up by Tirumurti's brother-in-law. Invited to the women's prison block to deliver a talk, he persuades the women inmates to start producing snacks and savouries which are then marketed under the brand name 'Bapu's Choice'.

Newspapers write editorials on Mohan's reforms. Two British drug-pushers, Mark and Alan, become his disciples and begin collaborating on his biography. Chennai University passes a unanimous resolution recommending Mohan for the Nobel Peace Prize.

As 15 February approaches, there is only one topic of conversation in the jail – the judgment in the Vicky Rai case. The day before the verdict, Mohan is unable to sleep. He paces up and down the cell while the others snore peacefully.

The next day, just before lunch, he leads a procession of inmates to the warden's office.

'What is all this? What are you people doing in my office?' the warden demands.

'We have come to see the circus,' Tirumurti informs him.

'What circus?'

'The trial,' says Varshney.

'Oh, so you people want to see the verdict in Vicky Rai's case? Not a problem. I was going to watch it myself.' The warden presses a button on the remote and a decrepit-looking TV sitting atop a bookcase flickers into life.

Virtually every channel is running live feeds from the courtroom in Delhi. The warden tunes to ITN and Barkha Das fills the screen, dressed in a blue salwar kameez with an olive-green photographer's vest on top.

'This will be a landmark day in the history of justice in India,' she says. 'Just as America waited with bated breath for the verdict in the O. J. Simpson case, India is waiting for the verdict in the Vicky Rai case. The courtroom behind me is packed to the rafters, but we have ITN's Shubhranshu Gupta inside, who will give us the latest. Shubhranshu, has the judge delivered his judgment?'

She bends her head and listens to the message being relayed to her ear phone, then looks up and grimaces. 'We've just received word from inside the courtroom. Vicky Rai has been acquitted for the murder of Ruby Gill.'

A hush falls over the gathering. The warden turns off the TV. 'Heard the judgment? Satisfied?' he says gruffly. 'Chalo, back to your cells now.'

Babloo Tiwari winks at Tirumurti. 'What did I tell you?'

'If he is out, why the hell are we rotting here?' Tirumurti scowls.

'That's because your father is not the Home Minister of Uttar Pradesh,' says Babloo. 'What do you think, Varshney?'

'Things fall apart,' the professor says morosely. 'Cry, the beloved country.'

Mohan feels the ground beneath him shake. He has to grip Babloo's arm to steady himself.

'What do you have to say, Gandhi Baba?' several prisoners ask him at once. He remains silent.

For three days Mohan refuses to eat, refuses to speak, refuses to go out of his cell. He lies in bed all day, staring vacantly at the ceiling.

'Eat something, Gandhi Baba. Ruby Gill will not be avenged by your fasting,' Babloo implores.

'Now there is only one way to avenge Ruby Gill,' he murmurs finally.

'And what is that?'

'Vicky Rai must die,' he says softly.

Babloo inserts a finger in his ear to clear it, thinking something must be wrong with his hearing.

'Vicky Rai must die,' Mohan repeats.

'I find it very strange, hearing this from your lips, Gandhi Baba,' Babloo says.