Next part:
---
Jaida let go of his hair and punched him so hard in the face that Ibn slammed against the wall and fell down. Munna, Teepo, and Badal were standing at the door, watching silently with interest. Ibn did not even try to scream. Blood started flowing from his mouth.
Jaida stepped forward and pressed his foot against Ibn's chest.
"Who got my three men arrested? Who tipped them off?"
Ibn shook his head in denial.
"State witness!" Jaida said sarcastically. "So you became a state witness!"
A desperate whisper rose in the room – water – and drowned in the terror of the chamber.
"Bring water," Jaida ordered his men.
After a while, there was a glass of water in Jaida's hand, and his foot still pressing on Ibn's chest. Ibn saw the glass and writhed. Jaida tilted it slightly, letting a few drops spill over Ibn's face. His tongue darted out, licking desperately at the drops scattered across his lips, nose, and chin. Along with the water, he licked his own blood. That little bit of moisture seemed to breathe life into his tongue.
"Water," Ibn pleaded in a slightly stronger voice.
"Why did you become a state witness?"
"Water... water..."
Jaida poured a little more into his mouth. Ibn quickly licked up the mixed drops of blood and water. His tongue flicked with the speed of a snake.
"How much commission did you get for turning approver?"
"Nothing... water... water," Ibn said, sobbing as if gasping for breath.
"I had placed you in that bungalow as a servant," Jaida pressed his foot harder on Ibn's chest, "so you could tell me where they kept that twenty-thousand-rupee necklace, which room their daughter slept in, how much cash was in the house, and where it was kept."
"Water..." Ibn begged, writhing. "For God's sake, just one sip."
Jaida spilled more water over his face. Some went into his mouth, some entered through his nose, and some he licked from the sides.
"You gave me the wrong information," Jaida said coldly. "The valuables were on the upper floor, but you told me they were kept downstairs in the empty safe. You also warned the family beforehand, so the police were waiting inside. My men were caught, and you became a state witness."
"I did not betray you," Ibn said in a frail voice. "Master, I am innocent."
"I gave you five hundred rupees for this job," Jaida said, pressing harder, "and you were earning sixty rupees a month there. On top of that, you took the reward money for informing, ate from both sides, and now you've turned state witness?"
"No! Yes, I did become a state witness," Ibn whispered, "but I did not betray you. Let me go, I promise I will change my statement in court. I will say the police forced me to become a witness."
Jaida lifted his foot off his chest and kicked him hard in the ribs. Ibn screamed as blood spilled from his mouth. Jaida picked up a stick and jammed it into Ibn's jaws, pressing its ends down with his foot. The stick began tearing his jaws apart. Ibn screamed like a slaughtered goat, legs jerking, his hands still tied behind his back. His muffled cries and agonized groans stirred not a shred of pity in Jaida's heart.
"Tell me everything clearly," Jaida loosened the pressure slightly. "What statements did you give the police? I need to arrange my defense. And tell me who the real informer was." He removed the stick from Ibn's mouth, and blood began to flow from his gums.
"Water..." Ibn gasped, coughing violently, blood spluttering from his mouth. The coughing grew worse until he collapsed.
Jaida lifted him, held the glass to his mouth. Ibn drank greedily, then said:
"Untie my hands, I will tell you."
At Jaida's signal, Badal untied him. Ibn struggled to steady his ragged breaths, looked at Jaida with defeated eyes, and whispered:
"I have lived enough... just a few words left..." Another bout of cough wracked him, harsher than before. In a faint voice, he said, "You don't know, Master, I have five children. My wife has been sick for years. No medicine... no treatment... the poor can't even afford bread, where would I get medicine? Water... water..."
Jaida threw the glass towards his men. Teepo went to fetch more water.
"I ate your salt, Master, but I betrayed you," Ibn confessed. "My hungry children and sick wife made me a traitor. She suffers and suffers, but does not die..."
Teepo handed him the glass. Ibn snatched it and gulped it down in one breath. His stomach had been empty for six days. The sudden rush of water brought a stabbing pain inside. His eyes bulged, and he collapsed to one side. Faintness overcame him, but he jerked himself back with weak shudders. He coughed blood, spoke, coughed again. His voice rose and fell as though fighting to finish before death overtook him.
"I was no thief. I went hungry, but I never ate the forbidden. I worked by day, kept watch at night, but could not clothe or feed my family. When my wife fell ill, I couldn't give her medicine. When my daughter grew up, I couldn't marry her off. Too many stories, too little time to tell them. Just know this much: to feed my children, I tried everything. I pedaled a cycle-rickshaw but lacked the strength. I labored, but my back had no life to bear loads. I sold my blood, but it was sucked cheaply. My wife was eaten by sickness, my children cried with hunger, and for a morsel of bread I smashed my body to pieces.
People told me: your daughter is grown, send her to work in some rich house. But I refused, afraid for her honor. Then winter came, and my children began to freeze..."
"At last, I found you. I joined you out of compulsion, not choice. I thought: when millionaires, ministers, and rulers themselves steal, why not I? I joined your gang. I came to steal and earn, but why would I be honest with you in dishonesty? So I took money from you, took reward money from others, and commission for being a witness. My children were starving, Master. They are still starving. Neither my faith filled their bellies, nor my theft could feed them..."
"And Master Jaida," Ibn sighed deeply, "I now leave them to God..."
Jaida offered him another glass of water. Ibn shook his head:
"No more water... only a few breaths left... Master Jaida..." His voice faded. "My children... my wife... my daughter..."
Then came the last hiccup – one hiccup that ended all his pain. He fell lifeless to the side.
Ibn's corpse lay with its eyes wide open, as though still staring at Jaida. Jaida gazed at him as if peering deep into his own soul.
Teepo checked his pulse and looked at Jaida.
"Bury him in that corner," Jaida ordered, and walked towards the door. Then he paused:
"Do you know where he lived?"
"Yes, I know," Badal replied.
"Good. Tonight, give his wife that wallet from today," Jaida said. "But lose the wallet itself. Give her only the money. And make sure you go at night, so she cannot see you. If she does see you, make sure she doesn't recognize you. Tell her I was his friend. And be careful—the police informers will be around his house. Do you have anything else with you?"
"No, nothing outside," Badal replied. "Everything's inside."
"Fine," Jaida thought for a moment. "No need to bring it out. Just grab two or three thousand and give it to his wife too. The children must not starve. I will arrange a permanent solution myself. I will go there personally. For now, you give these four or five hundred rupees to his wife tonight."
---
To be continue....