Trails of the Kingmaker

Shetty went to great lengths to explain how Chhota Rajan escaped from the Samitivej Hospital in Bangkok where he was admitted following the attack by the D-Company. One of Rajan’s top shooters, Rohit Verma, died while protecting him. Such was the brutality of the attack that the age-old principle of keeping family members away from bloodshed was thrown to the dogs and Rohit Verma’s wife also died in the attack.

The Thai Police were guarding Rajan at the hospital around the clock.

‘One of my community brothers played a key role in the escape,’ Shetty said. He was referring to Santosh Shetty, former aide turned foe of Chhota Rajan.

Apparently, Santosh Shetty, Bharat Nepali and Farid Tanasha had flown to Thailand to help Chhota Rajan escape from the hospital. It seemed like there were greater forces at work. How else could one explain how a man who was guarded round the clock, for whose extradition a team had been sent by the Government of India, managed to escape by climbing down a rope from the hospital room window?

Even Chhagan Bhujbal, then deputy chief minister of Maharashtra, was questioned by the press on Rajan’s escape. He had politely asked them to direct the question to the then Central home minister, L.K. Advani. ‘The Central government was dealing with Thai authorities,’ Bhujbal had said.

‘Nevertheless,’ Shetty said, ‘Rajan managed to move out of Singapore and was eager to resume the war with Dawood.’

For the next target, the handler from the Agency called Rajan, who was then holed up in Iran.

‘Who is it this time?’ Rajan asked.

‘Hanif Kadawala,’ the handler said.

‘Oh yes,’ Rajan replied. ‘I don’t like his movies anyway.’

On 7 February 2001, Hanif Kadawala was going about his business despite his particularly pensive mood. Of late, he had been receiving extortion calls from Rajan’s men. Reportedly, he had also paid them for getting off his case, but the waters of the underworld had turned so murky that no one could be trusted. Kadawala had good reason to be worried.

He was accused of providing assistance to Tiger Memon in storing and transporting explosives that were used in the 1993 blasts. He was arrested on 16 April 1993, and spent five years in jail before getting bail in 1998. However, freedom proved to be a double-edged sword for him. Inside the walls of the jail, he was safe and surrounded by policemen. Outside those walls, he was fair game for Rajan, who had already displayed his prowess by taking out Philoo Khan in 1994 and Thakiyuddin Wahid in 1995.

Still, Kadawala was trying to get back into the movie business where he had made his mark. His office was situated at Orbit Corporation, on the third floor of the Vaz bungalow at Bandra. The popular Gaiety-Galaxy cinema was also located nearby, where several of Hanif’s movies had run to houseful shows earlier.

As he parked in his assigned parking space, Hanif called the actor whom he wanted to cast in his new movie. His call went unanswered. ‘Bloody bastards,’ he muttered. ‘There was a time they would give an arm and leg for a cameo in my films.’

Besides being in the movie business, Hanif and his family also owned a restaurant in the suburbs which was popular among the students of plush colleges located in the vicinity. But the blasts had rendered Kadawala a persona non grata. No actor wanted to be seen around him. He produced two movies along with his partner Sameer Hingora: Dil Hi Toh Hai in 1992 and Sanam in 1997 starring Jackie Shroff and Sanjay Dutt, respectively.

During the riots that followed the demolition of the Babri Masjid, mobs were running rampant through the city. Sanjay Dutt, whose family had received several threats for organizing aid for riot victims, wanted to procure a few weapons for his own protection.

When arms and ammunition were being transported through the city before the blasts, two cars were diverted to Dutt’s house at different times at the behest of Hanif and Samir. Each time, Dutt retained a few weapons and the cars then continued towards their next destination. It was Hanif and Samir who had named

Dutt in the case after their own names had surfaced in the investigation of the blasts. Dutt’s

conviction and imprisonment followed after the duo’s arrest

in April 1993. Hanif was released on bail in 1998.

Five years after he last produced a movie, Hanif wanted to revive his film production business but his thoughts were overshadowed by one man—Rajendra Sadashiv Nikalje aka Chhota Rajan, the man who was fast gaining public sympathy by eliminating the accused of the blasts. And Hanif was one of them.

When Hanif walked into his office, his workers noticed a strange apprehension on his face. It was not normal, and Hanif was not speaking about it to anybody. Furrows on his forehead surfaced again. He was anxious and scared that something bad or unpleasant would happen.

Whispers were already doing the rounds that Indian agencies were handpicking the targets of the blasts and assigning the kills to Rajan for plausible deniability in the court. By the time Hanif settled in his chair and was greeted by his assistant, Jafar, the thought of producing a new movie was eclipsed by the fear of death. Amidst all the chaos in his mind, three men came to Hanif’s office around 12.30 p.m. Jafar could not sniff anything suspicious from the way they entered the office. They stopped at the reception. Their leader introduced himself as Yusuf.

We want to meet Hanif bhai,’ Yusuf told Jafar. ‘We have a car deal to discuss.’

Jafar used the newly installed intercom to connect to Hanif’s cabin. ‘Yusuf has come to meet you with two others in connection with a car deal.’

‘Bugger’s been calling me for days,’ Hanif replied. ‘Send them in after five minutes.’

Two of the three men entered Hanif’s cabin while one man stood at the door like a guard. Jafar was confused as to why the man was guarding the door of Hanif’s cabin if they had really come to discuss a deal. Before he could make any sense of it, Jafar heard three thak-thak sounds.

His blood froze. Shakil Ahmad, the other attendant, and Jafar looked at each other. They realized what had occurred. The man who had stood guard at the door pulled out a gun and aimed it at them. ‘If you twitch even one muscle, I’ll blow your brains out,’ he said.

Jafar and Shakil Ahmed knew the drill. They raised their hands to signify surrender.

(Excerpted with permission from S Hussain Zaidi’s ‘From Dubai to Karachi’; published by Penguin Random House)