THE MEDIA, FREEDOM OF EXPRESSION, CORRUPTION AND MEDIA BARON'S CONSCIENCE

CHAPTER 5: PRO-JIHAD LEAGUE -- CHECKBOOK EDITORS AND MEDIA BARONS

Hari Nath Rai suspected that Khalifa Hasham Ali's walking stick was a camouflaged gun and its crescent-moon silver handle a boomerang. He also suspected that the "walking stick" gun was the weapon used to shoot at Pope John III. He found no clue in the Church debris, but he did see Major Dial Singh snooping around at the site with the help of a youngster dressed in a green blazer.

Hari was puzzled. The Iron Lady's sadist minion patting the back of Caliph Ali's suspicious underling. He waived at Singh and started limping towards the parking lot towards his car, He thought he also saw the blue Mercedez of his saccharin-tongued Managing Director Karan parked in the porch: The son-in-law of his "Fortune 500" tycoon boss Jal Wadia, the current Chairman of the watchdog International Press Institute (IPI). Hari felt strangely disturbed by the thought that , in his idealistic naivety, he could have allowed himself to become a part of a Fifth Column outfit.

"Have you seen the MD around here, Pande?" he asked his driver.

"Only his car, sir," he replied.

"Home, Pande, I must be insane. What's the media baron's son-in-law doing here when he should be apple-polishing his tycoon pop-in-law? Home brother, I need some sleep Pande. Step on the bloody whatever!"

"Sir?" said the driver.

"I am worried about my cuckoo Koel, a rare species. The MD doesn't like her. The dealer who sold it to me in Indonesia said she's the only one of its kind in the world. I love her Pande."

Sprightly Koel was safe and singing.perched nonchalantly on her miniature mulberry tree. Hari was relieved, still deep in thought about Karan and his Parsi employer Jal Wadia. He asked the housekeeper to give him a drink and started smoking a Marlboro Light from a packet on the dining table. The housekeeper started feeling uneasy because she knew that he smoked only in extreme agitation. "What is it, sir?" she asked.

"Nothing. I am only thinking about Mr. Wadia," he said.

"Mr. Wadia left a message for you, sir. May I dial his number, sir?" Hari nodded.

The tycoon wanted to know about the status of the manufacture of eco-friendly newsprint.

"Another six months, sir," he replied.

"Why the delay? I know. You are too busy chasing your scoop of the century about Jihad! Lay off, Hari. You are playing with fire. There are so many other stories to chase. Look, how the funds have been embezzled out of the 'the save-the-tiger' campaign. for example."

"There is a big story about the tiger tomorrow, sir, linking the Minister to the scam."

"Kill that story, Hari."

Is it going to be his first showdown with his iconic employer, he wondered and said very slowly: "I'm sorry, sir, it's out of the question."

"And your Below the Belt about your detention and the attempt on the Pope's life, linking it with Islamic Jihad. Spike that, too, Hari!" Wadia ordered.

Hari retorted, quietly: "That has already gone into the early edition and on the web."

"I am disappointed, Hari." The showdown was decisively avoided, the first round going to the Chief Editor of the newspaper which prided itself on being free, fair, fearless, forthright and first.

He poured himself another and finished it one gulp as Usha watched with disapproval: "Hazards of the profession," he said apologetically; "Give me another, please."

The telephone rang. Usha picked it up and passed it on to Hari: "Its Mr. David, sir."

David was in a frenzy: "Anne Spenser, that American girl, has been kidnapped from the Ambassador's part and the kidnapper has threatened rape-kill her if you don't withdraw your column and the tiger scam story in one hour."