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He had nodded. “And are you actually repentant for your sins?”
Elina had picked up the piece of paper that she had pulled out of her purse and had begun reading: “O God, I am heartily sorry for having offended Thee and I detest all my sins because of Thy just punishments, but most of all because they offend Thee, my God, who art all good and deserving of all my love. I firmly resolve, with the help of Thy grace, to sin no more and avoid the near occasions of sin. Amen.”
Father Luis had thought about what Elina had said for a moment. He had sighed before making the sign of the cross, closing his eyes, and speaking.
“Do you reject sin so as to live in the freedom of God’s children?” he had asked.
“I do,” Elina had replied.
“Do you reject Satan, father of sin and prince of darkness?”
“I do.”
“Do you believe in God, the Father Almighty, creator of heaven and earth?”
“I do.”
“Do you believe in Jesus Christ, His only Son, our Lord, who was born of the Virgin Mary, was crucified, died, and was buried, rose from the dead, and is now seated at the right hand of the Father?”
“I do.”
“Do you believe in the Holy Spirit, the Holy Catholic Church, the communion of saints, the forgiveness of sins, the resurrection of the body, and life everlasting?”
“I do.”
“In that case, may our Lord Jesus Christ absolve you; and by His authority I absolve you from every bond of excommunication … I absolve you of your sins in the name of the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Amen.”
The priest had opened his eyes to look though the screen at Elina. She had already left.
Chapter 71
HARI PADHI LOOKED up at the naked bulb hanging from the ceiling and wondered whether the wire would support his weight if he tried to hang himself. Doing that would be preferable to the alternatives on offer.
If only he could get to it.
He lay naked and spreadeagled on the bare table, his hands and feet tied securely to the corners with prickly jute twine. After tying him down to the table, the disinterested cop had left, the cell door clanging noisily shut.
And now he counted the seconds and minutes as he waited, staring at the bulb. The silence in the cell was deafening and intense fear coupled with exhaustion began to tell on him. Softly, he wept.
Suddenly there was a loud noise, a flurry of activity, and Rupesh appeared by his side. Noticing the tears, the cop took out his kerchief from his pocket and wiped Hari’s face almost tenderly.
“Shhh. Don’t worry,” he whispered. “In a short while it will all be over,” he said, his tobacco-scented breath wafting into Hari’s nostrils.
Rupesh’s assistant plugged something into the power outlet immediately next to the prison cell. It was a simple yet brutally effective device—a long electrical cord with a plug at one end and splayed copper wires at the other.
“Are you ready?” asked Rupesh as he waited for the constable to turn on the power supply. The worried-looking constable ran over to him and wordlessly handed over the naked end of the long cord.
Holding the wire in his hand, Rupesh looked at Hari’s terrified face. He then began patiently to explain what he was about to do. “My electric prod has two electrodes of different polarity a short distance apart so that a circuit will be created via your testicles. You will feel extreme pain and distress because I shall keep the voltage high and the current low. I shall keep increasing the current if I do not hear what I want from you.
“Shall we begin?” asked Rupesh rhetorically as he placed one of the wires on Hari’s privates. Hari shut his eyes in terror as he waited for the circuit to be completed.
The ringing of the phone was almost deafening. Muttering a few choice expletives, Rupesh was forced to hand over the electrical cord to the constable in order to take the call. He listened carefully to the sub-inspector who was calling from a house in South Mumbai.
Hanging up, Rupesh looked at Hari and began to laugh almost demonically. “You have the devil’s luck, my friend,” he said as he left the prison cell hurriedly, his constable in tow.
Chapter 72
MUNNA SAT IN a comfortable recliner in a private VIP box at Wankhede Stadium. This was the usual venue for premier cricket matches in Mumbai and where one sat was a clear indicator of where one stood in the city’s pecking order.
