DEN OF A DRUG PEDDLER
It was Sunday morning. We received a call from one of
the agents in Goregaon. He talked about a fully furnished, well appointed
apartment that would meet our needs and was well within budget.
Wasting no time, we headed towards agent’s office. Our
excitement kicked up further on knowing the offered price. It did sound bit
low for comfort but before we could nurse any doubts the agent started singing
paeans of the property. Now, I am not one of those ‘lucky’ guys who get rewarded without any efforts. But, today I
felt different. Avarice had set in my mind. Soon, we were on way to our utopian
dream. Short drive to the apartment was spent listening agent’s discourse on
merits of the apartment. Going by his recitations, it was a ‘jackpot’ waiting only
to be picked up.
The building appeared new and had impressive façade. A well
manicured garden with meandering walkway greeted us as we eased our car into a
vacant parking slot. Backside had fairly large children’s play area with rides.
Entrance lobby was even more impressive with double height, a crystal
chandelier hanging from the roof and a large mural of the side walls. Our
‘jackpot’ was on 1st floor and we did not have to wait for the
elevator. Name plate outside the flat bore the name of a lady. Ringing of bell was greeted with a sweet sounding response. Soon, we came face to
face with a pretty young lady in early thirties. She greeted us with a
disarming smile, leading us to a spacious sitting room. By the time we sank
into plush leather sofa, a servant appeared with soft drinks. Sipping coke, we peered
around trying to take the tastefully done interiors in.
Meanwhile, the pretty woman was closeted with the
agent. They seemed to be pretty ‘close’ and even occupied seats almost touching
each other. Their unabashed flirting disturbed our concentration and soon we
could not take it any longer. Quickly we finished the drink and demanded to be
shown around the flat. The agent took it upon himself to lead us, pointing out
every notable detail. Inspection over, we felt elated. It was a tempting proposition
considering the price.
Back in our seats, we talked about details. I could not
help inquire reasons for selling the flat. My quarry was anticipated and
prompt came the reply that the lady needed funds. Next question was pre-empted
by offering explanation that there was a certain amount of urgency and hence
the property was being under-quoted. An expression of sadness punctuated this
statement by the lady. As if on cue, the agent nodded his head in agreement. The
pretty woman went on to narrate a story how she had to raise lot of money to
fight legal battle. Continuing she said, her husband was falsely implicated in
a case and she had to get him out on bail. Sensing the feeling of shock on our
faces, she lamented how in this country innocents fall prey and poor wives like
her had to bear the brunt.
Overcoming first tremors, we asked as to
what kind of case it was. Instantly she responded, “Oh! It’s no big deal. The
narcotics department has falsely alleged that my husband is involved in selling
drugs. I can swear by God that he is ‘clean’ and I will certainly get him out
of jail”. A pre-scripted drama was on and at this point the agent stepped in. He sprang
to his feet and said, “Sir! Let me explain. I am not one of those agents who would close
a deal by deceiving a client. I will reveal everything” I thanked him for his
ethics and waited for his next move. He then called for previous day’s Times of
India.
Those days, last page of TOI carried public
announcement ads, mostly lawyers’ notices about proposed property deals, government
tenders etc. Presently, the lady shoved a newspaper in my hand. It had, at the
bottom of last page, a ‘Notice’ by a firm of solicitors. It informed public of High
Court judgment by which it had released a particular apartment that was
‘attached’ by the police. Keeping my cool, I went on to read the notice
carefully. It was clear that the flat belonged to the ‘pretty lady’ who happened
to be wife of the alleged drug peddler, currently in custody. It further added
that the said flat was wrongfully ‘attached’ and ordered the narcotics bureau
to release it. In fact, the lady had taken possession of the flat two days before and had
immediately put it on the block.
A perfect frame of deception, she shed more tears and pleaded
with my wife to take a quick decision because this flat was her only source for
money. My wife was baffled and wondered
why we had not walked out by then. Meanwhile, the agent brandished flat purchase
documents to prove that she was the sole owner. He even showed society bills in
her name. He assured us that this was once in a lifetime opportunity that we can ill afford to miss.
My mind went into a spin, unable to choose between common
sense and greed. But, I was not ready to give up, as yet. I stayed put listening to a well orchestrated drama. I argued that as a housewife the lady had no income. It implied that the
purchase was actually done by husband. It also meant that tomorrow he could
come out of the jail and stake a claim to the flat. It would make us vulnerable to bullying by him.
Amidst fresh round of sobs, the lady offered that we speak to her husband on phone. Seeing our look of surprise the agent butted in saying
that she talks to her husband every Sunday. He can avail of a facility of phone in one of the jail officer’s cabin.
Finally, to remove all our misgivings, lady made us a fresh offer. She
suggested, we accompany her to Nashik Jail to meet the husband in person. We could then seek
his written consent on a stamp paper.
This was the last straw. My wife jumped, pulled my arm, screaming,
“We are not going anywhere and I don’t want this flat.”
We were out within
seconds. Thereafter, we never ventured in that direction.