In Cut Like Wound, the first book of Anita Nair’s Borei Gowda series, Inspector Gowda went up against a formidable opponent—a cross-dressing man who called himself Bhuvana; even as he dealt with a new subordinate (Santosh) and grappled with a disintegrating marriage—while an ex-girlfriend, Urmila, came back into his life after nearly 30 years.
In the third book in the series, Hot Stage, it’s two years down the line. Gowda is now Assistant Commissioner of Police, and Santosh is his SI. Urmila is no longer just an old girlfriend, but his current lover too. Gowda’s wife Mamtha and their son Roshan (now a medical student) live in Hassan, well away from the policeman’s life. And there is a Bhuvana in the picture: an unsettling young woman, a little too earnest, a little too eager to be friendly, who has moved into the house above Gowda’s, with her husband and her brother, the three of them Gowda’s tenants.
Bhuvana’s presence upstairs is merely a little disturbing for Gowda, no more. What he has to solve right now is a murder that might have political implications—or it might just be a case of a man who was good at riling up people. Octogenarian Professor Mudgood was an unashamed critic of communal politics, and his searing commentaries on Godhra et al had earned him enemies; could it be one of these who crept into the old man’s home one night, to push his head down into a cauldron of hot water?
Gowda has barely even begun the investigation when his old collegemate, Stanley Sagayaraj, now the DCP at the Central Crime Branch, is put on the job along with his team. The CCB and Gowda’s team must form a combined SIT, and with the interfering DCP Vidyaprasad constantly trying to muscle in and winkle out details, it’s tough going.
Nair’s narrative switches, moving back and forth between various characters, motivations and points of view. There is Mudgood’s wealthy daughter Janaki Buqhari and her husband Iqbal, who seem to harbour some uncomfortable secrets. There is the powerful Papanna, who has scaled heights on the back of a business of garbage disposal. There are sundry shady characters, peopling the underbelly of Bengaluru, involved in dealings that couldn’t bear close scrutiny. There are the cops—Gowda himself, and his likeable, interesting team: Santosh and Ratna, a certain hesitant chemistry there; Byrappa, with several unexpected arrows in his quiver; Gajendra, endearingly domestic at times. And Aqthar, brought in on loan from Dharwad, a man who proves that you can combine looks with brains. Between them, this group sets out to find out who murdered the professor and why.
Entwined with this distinctly noir landscape is the relative domesticity of Gowda’s personal life—his moments of relief with Urmila; his quiet life at home, until it is somewhat disrupted by the arrival of his father Chidananda, who comes to stay for a while; and, the increasingly suspicious behaviour of the tenants upstairs. Who are these people, and why does Bhuvana seem to be keeping a surreptitious watch on her landlord?
Nair’s deftness as a writer, her skill at telling a story well, shines through in Hot Stage. The characters are sharply etched, with Gowda and Aqthar in particular coming through very vividly: the latter, in fact, relatable and memorable enough to deserve a book of his own. Even secondary characters such as Ratna and Santosh, the irritating Vidyaprasad; even those in minor roles who may be of the blink-and-miss-it variety in the hands of a less adept writer, come alive here. They’re three-dimensional, described skilfully, idiosyncrasies and nuances all intact.
The writing is crisp, the story taut. The mystery is on point, clues, red herrings, suspects and a gripping investigation all fitting together, and the solution beautifully done. As pure detective work, a police procedural that’s right up there with the best, Hot Stage works perfectly. Where it also particularly excels is in the way it balances noir and not-noir. Yes, the sleazy underbelly of the Bengaluru crime world is here, with blood and gore galore, but it’s redeemed and uplifted by the humanity, the mundanity (and occasionally the wit) that shines through. Gowda’s nuanced but affectionate relationship with his father and son; the team’s dynamics; the dogs (who are characters in themselves); Vidyaprasad—the lightness, the hope, the easing of the nourish tension that these bring, make Hot Stage an extremely satisfying detective novel.
Nair goes from strength to strength with the Borei Gowda series, and we can only wait for the next instalment.
