When Valli drew the stool toward him, the chairman said, “Before you sit down, please turn on that fan.”

Valli turned the fan on and sat down on the stool.

“So it was theft?”

“How can we be certain of that?” Valli said. “It might have been. We didn’t see it happen.”

“Do you have other suspicions? I was wondering . . . about this Gnanasigamani crowd . . .” The chairman was, of course, referring to the leader of the opposition party, Gnanasigamani, and his party members.

“Oh! You mean the guys from Mangala Street? As if they’d dare to do anything!”

“Hey! Hey! Careful what you say! I am from Mangala Street too. You hit dangerously close to home there.”

Valli suddenly realized what he had said. “You might be from that street,” he said, carefully, “but that does not mean you are all of a piece. People have their own personalities, don’t they?”

“All right, all right, change the subject,” the chairman said, straightening his collar. “What a thing to say! You got me all worked up.”

Keen on changing the subject, Valli said, “My suspicions are not on the opposition party.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“Then who else?”

“I have a feeling these scavenger fellows might have done it.”

“Why would they want to steal the tamarind pods?”

“You take them too lightly. They might have been naive and stupid once. But these days there are men among them who want to sit in that chair of yours and put their feet up on that table. But then, why blame them? We have just handed them all the power to vote, haven’t we? So of course they will be cheeky.”

“Can you get to your point?”

“That’s my point. These guys are now organized and unionized. They are demanding higher wages. They are asking for bonuses. They want us to build them all bungalows. They want us to buy them all gramophones. They have started making their demands. But you don’t seem to relent. So they have decided to teach you a lesson . . .”

“You really think they would go to that extent?”

“Oh, the state of things today! All the big parties are behind them now. Do you know Padmanabhapuram Kodhandarama Iyer’s son?”

“You mean the one with the beard.”

“That’s the one. Bearded. Dark. Short, stout fellow.”

“Yes, yes. Janardhanan, right?”