The Inspector Interrogates

It was a plane landing like any other, and the subsequent hustle and bustle at customs was equally unexciting. It didn’t take a genius to guess that the flight in question was international, not to mention long.

Post-flight lethargy, air hostesses in short cuts (dresses) chatting up pilots with short cuts (hair), friendly Americans roaming about like excited cocker spaniels while uptight Englishmen looked on with the contempt of a German Shepherd, a mother carrying two bawling babies and keeping the bigger one down as she waited for her luggage, beep, a man arguing with Customs over cashews, beep, the robotic female voice blaring out flight timings disinterestedly, beep…

Beep. Beep. Beep…

“Everybody down! This is a bomb check!”

Well, maybe it wasn’t a plane landing like any other.



***

“Sir, it is outrageous for me to be kept locked up like this and I demand that you release me immediately.”

“Shut up. “The Inspector said, puffing impressively on his cigarette. The specimen sitting before him wore a perfectly tailored three-piece suit with the creases still untouched. It seemed unbelievable to think that he had just travelled sixteen hours in a stuffy TransAtlantic. ‘Ignoramus from Islington’, the Inspector thought. ‘Never a hint of a smile on that arrogant face. When he isn’t looking at you like you’re yesterday’s leftovers, he’s weaving an intricate web of ‘Jolly good’s and ‘Toodle pip’s so that he can strangle you with your muffler or poison your tea.’

“Name?” The Inspector asked.

“Theodore Cook.” The specimen said stiffly. “And this is getting out of hand. I demand that-“

“Demand? DEMAND? You’re not in a position to demand anything, Theodore.” The Inspector said mockingly. “Did you hear our demands when we wanted freedom? No. You continued to oppress and supress and suck the life out of this country and only left after the War, when you could barely support yourself let alone other colonies. Well, how do you feel when the ball’s in the other court, huh? Huh?”

The Inspector was extremely pleased to see that the Englishman was completely nonplussed after his neat little speech. After a few seconds, he found his feet and started a little more cautiously. “Look here; I don’t know what all that’s got to with it. It was over fifty years ago. It’s all water under the bridge now, isn’t it?”

“Really? So I can do whatever I want with you now and it’ll be water under the bridge a few years later?”

“Well, yes.” Cook said doubtfully. “But that wasn’t what I meant. What I mean by ‘under the bridge’ is that it’s all behind us and there are new cards on the table now, it’s a fresh new start.”

“So that’s what you think, eh?” The Inspector said, before stopping Hawaldar Belsare who had heard the words ‘under’ and ‘table’ and had consequently come forward eagerly, hands outstretched. “Well, I’ll tell you something, Theodore. It doesn’t matter what you think. What matters is why you planted a bomb in the airport.”

Cook started spluttering like an asphyxiated goldfish. “Wh-wh-what? That is absolute codswallop. I want my lawyer here right now and I will not be the subject of such wild and fanciful accusations. Has any bomb been found yet?”

“Oh, you don’t need to worry about that.” The Inspector continued in the same mocking vein. “You haven’t hidden it THAT well, our men will find it soon enough. The beeping was audible, so we know it’s somewhere close. We’ve come a long way since 1947 you know.”

“Oh come on, drop the freedom card! And besides, why would I want to plant a bomb in your airport?” Cook said exasperated.

“Why indeed?” The Inspector said smugly. “Why would you plant a bomb in our airport? Perhaps the same reason why you invaded us four centuries ago and tied us in chains? Because you’re jealous of our wealth and prosperity and want it all to yourself. How about THAT for a reason?” The Inspector shouted, reaching the crescendo of this particular discourse. He was delighted to see that he had the old enemy stumped again.

“What?” was all Cook could manage after two whole minutes of doing his goldfish impression again. “That is the most stupid reason I’ve heard. Why would I be jealous of you when, frankly, my own country is better off than yours?”

“Come again?” The Inspector said dangerously. He crushed the cigarette butt in his hand, yelped in pain and threw it away quickly. “What did you say?” he said, after composing himself. “Did you just disrespect my country? Did you call it a joke?”

“No! I jus-“

“That was a rhetorical question” The Inspector said shortly. “Of course you did. Do you realize that, bomb or no bomb, I can lock you up under the charges of showing disrespect to the country, the national anthem, the national flag and national property?”

“But when did I-“

“To speak of one is to speak of all four.” The Inspector said, his voice dripping with emotion. “Hawaldar! Take this man away and lock him up. I’ll settle things with him later.” He then stopped Hawaldar Belsare who, upon hearing the word ‘settle’ had come forward eagerly, hands outstretched.

The Inspector took out another cigarette after Hawaldar Belsare took Cook away. “Send the next one in.” he said menacingly, before realizing that he was alone in the room and getting up to bring the next one in himself.

***



“Inspector, I would just like to s-“

“Shut up.” The Inspector said, impressive as ever. This particular specimen had on khakis and a floral pattern shirt. ‘Always dresses like it’s bloody Hawaii.’ The Inspector thought. ‘No wonder he dresses like that, what with him thinking he owns the world and all. Buffoon from Baltimore. Will put on the stupid act while secretly pulling some strings to sue you to hell.

“Name?” The Inspector asked.

“Dave Coleman. And I was just saying that I completely understand your situation and am ready to fully cooperate with the police and any other forces in action.” The specimen said, a sickeningly sincere smile on his face.

“You’re ready to cooperate?” The Inspector asked as his eyebrows rose disbelievingly. “Well, why don’t you just tell me where you’ve hidden the bomb?”

“But I didn’t hide any bomb, sir. I don’t have anything to do with it.” Dave said.

“Oh? Well, you can go now.” The Inspector said.

“Really?” Dave asked.

“Of course not!” The Inspector said. A small smile crossed his face as his subtle sarcasm had flummoxed the hitherto cocksure American. “You think you’ll just come in here with your floral shirt, say ‘I’m just an innocent boy from Illinois’ and be released? Let me ask you something, Dave. Are you a superstar?”

“Umm… no.” Dave said, still confused.

“Well, in your country, they hold up superstars too, even when they haven’t done anything. I’m sure they pleaded their innocence too, but it made no difference. Why should it make a difference here? Do you know who I’m talking about, Dave? DO YOU?” The Inspector approached the zenith of his dialogue, expecting the American to be silent and red-faced.

“No.”

“No?”

“No.”

“No what?”

“No, I don’t know who you’re talking about.” Dave said, wishing The Inspector’s uniform would be replaced by a straitjacket.

“Well, get ready to be blown away.” The Inspector said and told Dave the name. The only thing Dave blew subsequently was his nose.

“I’ve never heard of him.” Dave said plainly.

It’s a rare comment that silences The Inspector. This was not one of them.

“Why didn’t you issue the Gujarat CM a visa?” The Inspector asked. “Who are you to decide what counts as crimes against humanity?”

“I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about, sir.” Dave said, still confounded with the situation.

“Alright, enough with the stupid act! Drop it already!” The Inspector said agitatedly. The possibility that he may actually be stupid did not cross his mind.

“I’m not acting stupid, sir.” Dave said, offended that The Inspector had mistaken his obvious talent as a sham. “I have contacts at the visa department, so I think I would have known anything they considered important.”

The Inspector’s eyes glazed over, he wasn’t even listening now. He suddenly jerked out of his stupor. “You have contacts at the visa department?” he asked.

“That’s what I just said, sir.” Dave said.

“I’ve always wanted to visit the Statue of Liberty. Disneyland too.” The Inspector said.

“That’s nice. You’ll like Disneyland.” Dave said, surprised at the turn the conversation had taken but not unpleasantly so.

“I’m sure I will. Too bad my visa got rejected. Thrice.” The Inspector said forlornly.

“Gee, that’s too bad. You could try again; maybe you’ll get it this time.” Dave said, confident he was touching all the right points.

“If only someone with contacts in the visa department could pull some strings.” The Inspector said pointedly.

“Well, that would make matters easier.” Dave agreed. The Inspector had to repeat the sentence two more times and wait for five minutes before Dave realized the ‘someone’ in question was him.

“Hmmm, I could try and talk to Cathy about it. She could do something for you perhaps.” Dave said.

“Now now, Dave. I’m going to need more than sweet nothings murmured into my ear to be convinced.” The Inspector said testily.

“Er…ummm….” Dave was clearly struggling to correctly frame his assurance for assistance.

“Will you make sure you talk to Cathy, and pester her until she gives me my visa?” The Inspector came to the rescue, coming up with an eloquent alternative to Dave’s more rudimentary attempt.

“Err… OK.”

“Do you promise?”

“Sorry, what?”

“Dave, have you heard the saying ‘Americans never break their promises.’?”

“No.”

“I’m not surprised; it’s not a very well-known saying. True, though. So, do you promise?” The Inspector asked.

“Ye-Yes, I promise.”

“Good boy.” The Inspector said, satisfied. “Hawaldar, lock him up.”

“I’m not quite sure I understand.” Dave said politely. “I was under the impression that you just accepted help from me.”

“I did, and don’t think I’m not grateful.” The Inspector said.

“So I’m free to go?” Dave asked.

“No.”

“No?”

“No.”

“No what?”

“No, you’re not free to go.” The Inspector said, smiling. “Our department is not as shallow as the visa department, Dave. I have to do my duty and I will not shirk it. You can’t expect small favours to overshadow something like a bomb threat.”

“But I didn’t plant any bomb.”

“Just keep telling yourself that; it’ll probably make it easier.” The Inspector said helpfully. “Don’t forget, I want that little favour done once you’re out, if ever. I hope you put your money where your mouth is.” He added, before stopping Hawaldar Belsare, who had unsurprisingly come forward with his hand outstretched upon hearing the word ‘money’.

***



“Shut up.” The Inspector said, on his last cigarette now.

“But I didn’t say anything.” The specimen sitting in the room said.

“Well, then you obey your orders.” The Inspector said. “A good order-obeyer, if you will.” He added, smiling at his iron-clad hold over the language.

“Is this about those cashews?” The specimen asked.

“Name?” The Inspector asked, ignoring him.

“Abdul Ghaffar. From Karachi.”

The Inspector’s good demeanour vanished immediately.

“Hawaldar, lock him up.”

***



The woman with the two bawling babies was talking with The Inspector in the airport lobby. The bomb still hadn’t been found but some semblance of calm had been restored to the proceedings.

“What I don’t understand is why everyone has to stay inside the airport. What if the bomb goes off? Isn’t it better to evacuate the public first?” the woman said.

“And what if we unknowingly evacuate the culprit along with the public, madam? I guess that’s what’s called irony.” The Inspector said. The woman did not appreciate this particular instance of it.

“Actually, I think you can go. The bomb seems really well hidden and finding it will take some doing. Besides, after thorough research and elimination, I’ve shortlisted a list of suspects and just finished questioning them. Needless to say, they’re not going out anytime soon.” The Inspector said, smiling crookedly.

“Oh, thank you Inspector! I’m really grateful.” The woman said and started walking towards the exit, a baby in each arm. The younger one started crying loudly, so she put the elder one down in order to console him.

“You can walk the rest of the way, can’t you Artie?” she asked the elder one.

“Yes Mommy.” Artie said and started waddling. The general din in the vicinity and the constant wailing of the younger baby meant that no one heard the beeping sound coming from Artie’s fancy new boots.

***