“What defendants?” Rupal shouted. “These are free men, falsely accused by these whores.”
“Order, order!” the judge thundered. He turned to the constable standing to his right. “Clear these people out. Okay, next. Case number 21630.”
And just like that, it was done. They walked out of the courthouse, Meena leaning so hard against Smita that Smita thought she might lose her balance.
A cavern opened up in Smita’s heart as they emerged into the daylight. She turned helplessly to Anjali. One look at the lawyer’s crushed face made her regret her earlier outburst. She realized what it had taken to even bring charges against the brothers. “What happens next?” she whispered.
“What happens? Anjali said. “Nothing. We lost.” Her face fell. “This judge is actually one of the better ones. Not nearly as dishonest as the others. I thought we had a slim chance.”
“He’s honest?”
“I didn’t say that.” Anjali bit her fingernail. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe I shouldn’t have taken this case. I thought the glare of publicity in a foreign newspaper would make a difference. I was wrong.” She opened her mouth to say more but was drowned out by the drumming. They all turned to see a small group of dancing, celebratory men looking for all the world like participants in a wedding procession. They watched incredulously as Govind and Arvind were hoisted up by the men, as if they were heroes, or athletes who had won a championship. Rupal was distributing sweets to people walking past them. Smita realized that they had expected no other outcome other than victory. Otherwise, why would they come prepared with drums and sweets?
“Shameless bastards,” Anjali muttered, casting a worried glance at Meena, who appeared to be folding into herself, trying to make herself as small and invisible as possible. But Govind noticed her from his perch. “Ae, whore!” he called out. “You really thought you would win against your own brothers?”
Anjali strode toward the group, but her assistant blocked her way. “Madam, don’t,” she said. “You know they are just trying to provoke us.”
“Come, Meena,” Anjali said, taking the younger woman by her elbow. “You don’t need to listen to this garbage anymore.”
“It’s okay,” Meena said in a flat, dull voice that made Smita’s hair stand on end. “There is nothing anyone can do now.”
“That’s nonsense,” Anjali said, but the uncertainty in her voice did not reassure any of them.
“How is she getting home?” Mohan asked, ever practical.
“We’ll drop her,” Anjali said. “But first we need to take her to our office. There are a lot of loose ends to tie up.”
“And you?” Mohan said to Smita. “What would you like to do?”
She thought quickly. There was no way to interview Meena while she was in this catatonic state. Also, she needed to file a brief story about the verdict. The longer piece could run later, after she’d interviewed Meena again. Turning to Meena, she asked,“Can we stop by your house tonight? I would like to talk a little more. And to see Abru and Ammi, of course.”
“Ammi,” Meena repeated, and Smita heard the dread in her voice. Was there anything she or Mohan could do to persuade Ammi to be gentle with her daughter-in-law for the next few days?
“Didi,” Meena said, “can’t you come home with me now?”
“But you’re not going directly home, Meena,” Smita said. She turned to Anjali. “How long will she be at the office?”
“Let’s see. By the time we get to my office from here, do all the paperwork, and then drop her home, I’d say five or six hours. You’re welcome to follow us to our offices if you like.”
Smita felt the beginning of a bad headache. It would be easier to file her story from Mohan’s house. She longed for some ibuprofen, a few uninterrupted hours of work, and a shower before she met up with Meena again.
“How about we stop by later tonight?” she said. “Say around six?”
“Theek hai,” Meena said. She turned away listlessly. “Whatever you wish.”
Chapter Thirty-Three
Smita broke down as soon as Mohan pulled away from the courthouse. “I don’t understand, I don’t understand, I don’t understand,” she cried.
“What’s there to understand?” Mohan’s voice was infused with anger. “It’s simple—they offered the judge a bribe and he took it.”