“The police are going to be thrilled about this. They will think, Look at these uppity fellows! They need our help now!” The chairman paused. “Valli . . . I have a doubt. What if it was the police who . . .”

“Don’t say it! It is all right to think it, but it shouldn’t come from our lips!”

They heard footsteps from the veranda, and a face appeared over the half door. Business was resuming. “All right,” said M. C. Joseph hurriedly to Valli. “We will talk about this later. I will send a formal complaint.”

Satisfied, Valli nodded and left.

8

8.

Elsewhere in town, another crucial piece of the drama was unfolding.

At nine on Saturday morning, Paramarthalingam arrived at Abdul Khader’s famous stationery store as usual, after collecting the keys from the owner’s house. He was stunned to find shards of red glass strewn all over the entrance. He could not understand where all that glass had come from. He stood, holding his bicycle, agitated and looking around for some explanation.

Coolie Ayyappan was sitting beneath the tamarind tree and watching Paramarthalingam. Now he walked up to him and said, “Anney, look above you.”

Paramarthalingam looked. The store sign was broken, and the wires on which the letters had been affixed were exposed. All that was left on the board was half of a letter still hanging on. “The board is broken! How did this happen?” Paramarthalingam exclaimed. Coolie Ayyappan just opened out his palms to suggest he knew nothing about it and walked away.

Paramarthalingam opened the store and made a call to Abdul Khader. The boys who worked in the store arrived one by one. They stood outside, looking alternately at the broken sign and the shards of glass on the ground. When they heard the owner’s car, they rushed in and stationed themselves behind the long counters.

That sign had cost around two thousand rupees. They had placed the order with a company in Bombay, and it was not even fifteen days since the men from that company’s Madras branch had installed it. In fact, no other store in the entire district had such a novel signboard. When turned on, each letter lit up in sequence. Then all the letters went off at once and the entire thing started all over, each letter lighting up one after the other. The day they had installed it, a crowd gathered in the street to watch. All the other merchants stepped outside their shops to look at it. Khader was very pleased that day. He felt as if this was the moment he was recognized as the leading merchant in the district.

Now Khader sat silently in his chair. On the table in front of him was a little nutmeg box full of red shards of glass.

Esakki came up the stairs and into the shop, saying, “Boss, ours is the only sign broken.”

“What about the movie theater’s sign?”

“No.”