I Sharmi Diamond ep-36

36. Me

"Does kissing make twelve volts of electricity course through your veins, lighting you up like a flashbulb? It does if Sharmi kisses you. And if someone who just gave you such a kiss sits on your lap and asks, 'Won't you even do this small theft for me?', you'd have to be quite a person to say no, sir. But I'm just ordinary. The result of saying 'I'll do anything for you' without coming out of that electric shock-like thrill is that I'm standing in front of Chennai's most important diamond store, which caters to the very wealthy."

This is Chennai's most prominent high-end jewellery store. It has a total of 13 floors, all occupied by them. Such a large store. There are rumours of a famous gangster's backing. The thought that I was about to steal from this store made me feel a slight tremor inside. But if everything went as Siddharth had said, I also had the confidence that this would be a piece of cake.

I drove my Jaguar myself and parked in the elevated lobby of the store. A watchman wearing an unnecessarily regal turban opened my car door with excessive politeness. He gave me the valet parking ticket. I took it and put a chewing gum in my mouth from my pocket. I stood at the entrance of the store, took a look around, and then slowly entered. At the entrance itself, a beautiful Nepalese woman in a silk saree, with a bindi on her forehead, was ready to help, asking through her nose, "May I help you, sir?" I declined her offer. Nevertheless, she followed me slowly. I looked all around. Various kinds of jewellery were arrayed in the showcases. Here and there, some elderly women in high-quality silk sarees and two middle-aged women in silky gowns were looking at jewellery. A floor manager, noticing me looking around without asking anyone, very politely inquired, "What are you looking for, sir?"

"Looking for diamonds. Exclusive," I said. I complimented myself on my English accent, which sounded flawless without any hesitation. My profession taught me all this English. Even though the work I do is from the underworld, since the people I work with are high-class, I couldn't survive unless I also transformed myself to be high-class. Just as my yoga is fundamental to my profession, so is English. Many times, hearing grunts and swear words in English doesn't feel offensive. But swear words are swear words in any language.

"Diamond exclusive... please come, sir," he said, leading me to the elevator. On the eighth floor, in the same grand hall I had seen from below, diamonds glittered on all the walls. The manager handed me over to a sales executive there, saying, "He will help you, sir," and then stepped away. I looked at the salesman. He smiled warmly. I smiled back. "What are you looking for?" he asked.

"A ring," I said. I looked at a tray on display. Understanding, he went to get it.

Before that, I need to mention their setup. Usually, in jewellery stores, there are no displays on the walls; instead, there's a display table between the salesperson and the customer. But here, it was different. Only what was on the wall, and below it, a table surrounded by high-quality sofas. For us and the salesman, there was a small sofa on the side. Almost corporate-style selling. A method designed to make the buyer feel like the most important person in the world and then sell them their product.

The tray taken from the wall was placed in front of me. Diamonds embedded in platinum and gold. Rings with diamonds ranging from tiny pieces to the size of a little fingernail. Some rings had two or three pieces embedded very artistically, which were tempting to even look at. I selected only a few and asked him to take them out of the display case individually. I chose one, looked at it for a while, and then looked up at the salesman, asking, "How many carats?"

He scanned the barcode attached to the ring with a scanner in his hand. The details of the ring appeared on his phone display. It was the usual 24 carats. Reading that, I pursed my lips. "I want exclusive," I said. As he was about to say something, my phone rang. I answered and spoke. A foreign voice on the other end was discussing a hundred-million-dollar deal. I kept saying "hmm"... "hmm." "A hundred million isn't possible to do legally. I'll figure out an alternate arrangement and let you know," I said and hung up. I didn't know who called. Even the number was an IP call. Siddharth had said that I would receive a call within half an hour of entering. I was surprised that it came exactly on time, and even a little scared that he might be watching me from somewhere. My trust in his planning increased even more.

"All these designs are exclusive, sir. Designs crafted with high-quality diamonds," he said with excessive politeness. I nodded slightly and said, "Call your floor manager." I sensed a slight panic within him. "Any problem, sir? I will assist you," the salesman said again in a very obliging tone.

"No, I want an exclusive diamond. I'm not worried about the budget. Something special," I said.

The salesman quietly took out his phone and called the manager without making a sound. Apart from the 'tuk-tuk' sound of his shoes, nothing else could be heard in that hall. I waited patiently, chewing my gum. "Yes, sir," the floor manager said as he came and stood before me.

"See... I want a unique diamond, just for me. It's to be given to very important people. No worries about the price. I know that only you have such high-quality diamonds. That's why I came here. I don't have time to go to Dubai immediately. Otherwise, I could arrange it myself. Can you show me your personal exclusive diamond?"

The floor manager understood. He looked at me silently for a moment and then secretly spoke on his phone. After nodding a few times, he said, "Sir, please come," and led me back to the elevator. He took me to a room on the 13th floor, made me sit down, then placed his fingerprint on a device at the door, opened it, went inside, and after a few minutes, opened the door slightly and said, "Come in." Unlike the halls below, there was only one CCTV camera here. Siddharth had mentioned this.

"Sir, please don't misunderstand. Could I see your ID?" he asked.

I took out my ID and gave it to him. The person who went inside returned after a short while. "Sorry, sir. High-profile deals require background verification," he said apologetically. The ID was also Siddharth's creation. He had said that he had made many arrangements to verify all the information I would provide about myself and that my job was only to make it seem real through my behaviour. It was surprising how everything he had anticipated was happening.

Import-export businesses in several countries. Address proofs from there. Contact numbers – he had arranged everything so that detailed information would come up if checked online. When I said that I didn't have any social network accounts online so far, Siddharth jumped with excitement. He said that in such a case, it would be very difficult to erase my online traces and that there was a high chance of getting caught somewhere. Even my bank account would be in my original name, Ramachandra Rajan. There would only be a few thousand rupees in the account. I realised only while talking to Siddharth that apart from the Aadhaar card, there were no other connecting links between him and the government.

Despite everything happening exactly as Siddharth had said, there was still a slight nervousness inside me. I started chewing the gum faster. The manager came out from inside with a soft smile. All okay. Start music, my mind said.