A quiet but bitter rivalry simmered between SHO Yash Agarwal and Deputy Inspector Gurmeet Singh. Agarwal had only arrived at Spanda Police Station three months ago to take over as the Station House Officer, while Singh had been languishing as the Deputy for nearly three years.
Singh had been banking on a promotion to the top spot, but Agarwal's sudden appointment had shattered that dream. Driven by a bruised ego and resentment over the new SHO taking his precinct, Singh was notoriously uncooperative with Agarwal in their daily operations.
Because Agarwal was still finding his footing, he often had to grit his teeth and tolerate Singh's insubordination.
Generally, a grassroots precinct only had one Inspector serving as the SHO, with a Sub-Inspector acting as the Deputy. However, Mumbai was India's financial capital, and its administrative layout was exceptional.
Grassroots stations here were staffed with dozens more constables than rural precincts, and the allocation of Inspector-level brass was correspondingly higher. Spanda Police Station, for example, boasted two officers at the Inspector level: Agarwal and Singh.
This equal rank was the primary reason Singh felt emboldened to disrespect his boss. If Singh had been a mere Sub-Inspector, he wouldn't have dared challenge Agarwal as the the gap in authority would have been too wide to cross.
Agarwal hadn't just left Singh behind today out of spite, he clearly understood the unspoken rules of power.
A political titan like Finance Minister Rajit Nayar reaching out directly to a local SHO meant the matter was strictly off the books. Agarwal wasn't about to drag his ambitious, backstabbing rival into a confidential meeting with a State Minister.
Inside the palatial living room of the Nayar estate, Agarwal and Rohan stood at attention. Agarwal didn't dare sit, a servant had poured them both cups of Darjeeling tea, but Agarwal was far too nervous to take a sip.
Ten minutes later, Rajit Nayar swept into the room, followed closely by his secretary, Harish Gokhale.
Nayar barely glanced at the two policemen before sinking heavily into a plush leather sofa, not uttering a word.
Gokhale gestured for Agarwal and Rohan to finally take a seat.
Gokhale outlined the situation in rapid, clipped Marathi. Listening closely, Rohan quickly realized this was indeed a massive, illicit headache for the Minister.
Late last night, a heavy steel safe belonging to Nayar had been stolen. It was being covertly transported via SUV to an undisclosed location when the vehicle broke down.
While the driver was waiting for a mechanic, the safe was hijacked, the theft had occurred right on the edge of Spanda Police Station's jurisdiction.
On paper, it made sense for Nayar to lean on the local SHO. But the sheer disparity in their social standings screamed that this was no ordinary robbery.
A safe? Rohan knew exactly what had to be inside. It was undoubtedly crammed with black money, undeclared gold, and incriminating documents which was entirely illicit wealth.
Secretary Gokhale's instructions were layered with thinly veiled threats. He ordered Agarwal to recover the safe immediately, stressing that no official FIR (First Information Report) was to be filed.
It had to be handled completely off the grid. Agarwal vigorously nodded, promising the swift and quiet return of the property.
Back at the Spanda precinct, Agarwal immediately pulled Rohan into his private office and locked the door. "Not a word of what you heard today leaves this room. As for recovering the safe....."
Agarwal paused, his brow furrowing as he stared at the young constable, clearly second-guessing himself.
"Sir, let me handle this," Rohan interjected smoothly. "I guarantee I can recover it." He knew exactly why Agarwal was hesitating: he was just a bottom-tier rookie. But this was Rohan's golden ticket, and he wasn't going to let it slip away.
"You?" Agarwal scoffed slightly, though he didn't dismiss the idea outright. He liked Rohan, mostly because the kid was a lifesaver when it came to translating English for foreign complainants. But being a good translator didn't make him a capable officer.
Entrusting a career-making case to a mere constable was a massive gamble.
Still, the circle of trust had to remain razor-thin. If Agarwal could pull this off, he would have a State Minister in his corner.
In a cutthroat city like Mumbai, that kind of political backing was priceless. He had used his own modest connections to secure the SHO position, but a titan like Rajit Nayar was in a completely different stratosphere.
"Sir, I actually already have a solid lead on this," Rohan pressed, seeing the doubt in his superior's eyes.
"What?" Agarwal's eyes widened. "Already?"
"Sir, I live in Dharavi," Rohan lied seamlessly. "Late last night, I spotted a few enforcers from the Kala Sher gang, the Black Lions. They were struggling to move a heavy steel box through the alleys. I didn't think much of it at the time, but they were acting extremely paranoid, and they were only a few blocks from where the Minister's SUV broke down, the timeline is a perfect match."
"The Kala Sher gang?" Agarwal's expression turned glacial. "That fits their usual street-level garbage but hitting a Minister's transport? They are actively courting death." He slammed his hand on the desk, making his decision. "Fine. I'll assign Old Bharat and a few others to back you up but listen to me carefully, do not breathe a word about the Minister or the safe's contents to them, just tell them it's a standard burglary."
Agarwal was sold, a junior constable wouldn't dare lie to his face about something this critical.
Of course, Rohan hadn't seen a damn thing last night as he had been asleep in his cramped shanty. But the moment Secretary Gokhale had mentioned the stolen safe, Rohan's memories from his previous life had clicked into place.
After Nayar's spectacular downfall two years from now, the corruption tribunal would leak a mountain of the Minister's dirty laundry to the press.
One of those articles had explicitly detailed this exact incident, the Kala Sher gang had blindly hijacked the safe, completely unaware of who it belonged to.
When the gang's ringleaders were eventually arrested years later, they confessed to cracking it open and finding over twenty million rupees in untraceable cash, plus another thirty million in gold bullion and diamonds, a staggering haul of fifty million rupees.
In his previous timeline, Nayar had never recovered the safe. This time, however, things were going to play out differently.
Rohan was going to recover that safe and hand it straight back to the corrupt Minister, securing his own promotion in the process. He didn't care about Nayar's bribery,
systemic corruption was just a fact of life.
All Rohan cared about was leverage. Using Nayar's dirty money to buy his own way out of the slums was simply good business.
"Sir, there's one more thing," Rohan added, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "The Kala Sher gang has a lot of muscle. And..... word on the street is that their boss has a very cozy relationship with Deputy Inspector Singh."
Agarwal's face instantly darkened, he already despised his Deputy Inspector, but because he was still new and lacked a loyal faction within the precinct, he hadn't yet made a move to clip Singh's wings.
Rohan's warning was a masterstroke as It explicitly painted Singh as a potential threat to the Minister's operation, while simultaneously proving Rohan's absolute loyalty to Agarwal.
The SHO already suspected Singh was on the take from local gangs, but he hadn't known exactly which ones were paying him off.
Taking Rohan under his wing would also send a clear message to the rest of the precinct. Agarwal had been playing defense for three months, it was time to assert his dominance. If he didn't crush Singh's insubordination now, he would never truly command Spanda Police Station.
Authors Note:-
Actually it's a true event.
The minister and corruption.
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