Outside, they could hear people shouting, “Long live Mahatma Gandhi!” Valli entered the office, shaking his head in amazement. “Kambaramayanam Ananthan Pillai was amazing,” he said. “He delivered. The crowd dispersed, but they trashed a few plants on their way out.”

“So then we will take leave,” Konar said, rising and pressing his palms together respectfully.

Sahib stood up too and looked at Moothapillai, who remained seated. “You go ahead,” said Moothapillai. “I will join you shortly.”

Sahib walked away, muttering under his breath, “Yeah, yeah, I am sure you have things to whisper in his ears.” Konar followed him.

Glancing quickly to make sure they were gone, Moothapillai thrust his body forward and pointed to the wall in front of him. “Just a small matter. There used to be a picture hanging there. What happened to it?”

“You mean the picture of our maharaja?” the chairman asked.

“Yes.”

“We have moved it inside.”

“What do you plan to do with it?”

The chairman looked over at Valli. “What are we supposed to do with it?”

“We give it a little time and then auction it,” Valli said.

“That’s what I hoped to hear!” Moothapillai leaned back, satisfied. “Just let me know when you plan the auction. That’s all I ask. Even if it goes five or ten rupees over the asking price, I don’t mind. I want to buy it.”

“Oh, sure. Why not? We’ll be happy to do that,” said the chairman.

“Don’t let it get stolen!”

The chairman made a great show of laughing at that remark. Moothapillai took his leave, making the appropriate gestures of respect. When it looked as if Valli would follow him, the chairman asked him to stay behind. “Don’t worry, I’ll be back in a second,” Valli said, and escorted Moothapillai to his carriage. As he climbed into his carriage, Moothapillai said to Valli, “Don’t forget, thambi. I want that photograph. It doesn’t matter if it goes five or ten rupees over the asking price.”

“Definitely, annachi,” said Valli, and Moothapillai left.

When Valli returned to the office, the chairman asked, “So it was theft?” Valli didn’t answer right away. He leaned against the wall, and it looked like he was doing some serious thinking, sweat streaming down from his ears to his neck.

As he waited for Valli to answer, Chairman M. C. Joseph removed the chain that was attached to one of his coat buttons, pulled out the pocket watch, and placed it on the table. He removed his long coat and draped it over the back of the chair. Then he loosened his four-inch-thick belt. He picked up a mirror from a table drawer, examined his face, and smoothed down his thick mustache to cover his lips. Then he parted it in the middle and stroked it down on both sides. “Hey, what the hell are you still standing for? Sit down on that stool,” he commanded Valli good-naturedly.