I'm a Master in India

Chapter 132 Interrogation

“What did you say to her?” Old Laer looked at Manisha's performance in front of the camera, a little surprised.

“I'm a doctor, I'm the best at comforting people.” Ron rubbed his fingers lingeringly, a little nostalgic.

“That's right, you're from the same hometown.” Old Laer nodded, his expression relaxed.

Advertising is much simpler than movies, and a few dozen seconds of footage can be finished in a day.

After Manisha's internal meridians were cleared, his subsequent work would enter the fast lane.

“At most three days, the finished film will definitely be sent to you.”

“That's good, All India Radio has already scheduled the time, and it will be broadcast on time in early May.”

“What time slot are you planning to put the advertisement in?” Old Laer asked.

After spending so much time together, they were already considered familiar friends. Old Laer had been in the entertainment industry for many years and was very familiar with TV stations. He was preparing to give Ron some suggestions.

“It will probably be in the prime time in the evening, between 8 and 10 o'clock.”

“This time slot is not cheap,” he frowned, “Our 60-second advertisement segment costs at least 20,000 rupees per broadcast.”

“Who made there only one TV station in all of India?” Ron spread his hands.

In 1993, the only TV station in India was Doordarshan, which belonged to the National Broadcasting Corporation.

Other private TV stations are still in their infancy and have almost no presence.

Before the license system was relaxed, private individuals were not allowed to operate broadcasting companies, and there was only one TV station that 900 million Indian people could watch.

The strange thing is that other state governments also had no plans to operate TV stations because they were too poor.

The urbanization rate of most states is less than 30%. In extreme cases like Bihar, 90% of the population are farmers.

Who can afford a TV at home? The state government doesn't have such a budget either.

So, since independence, after decades of dragging on, no second state-owned TV station has appeared in India.

After the liberalization in 1991, businessmen in Mumbai began to set up broadcasting companies one after another.

However, the market is still not mature, and Doordarshan is still the only choice for the public, so Ron has no choice.

Fortunately, because the TV market is limited, the cost of advertising on Doordarshan is not too high.

20,000 rupees a day, only 600,000 a month, much cheaper than the “Times of India”.

“How long did you sign the contract for?” Old Laer asked.

“One month, let's try the effect first. If it's good, I'll consider renewing.”

“Let me make a call for you.” Without waiting for Ron's response, Old Laer went to the landline in the studio by himself.

He dialed someone's number and enthusiastically spoke up for Ron. In his description, Ron was a top-notch good person, witnessed by all the people of India. Suer Electronics' products were even more unique, the pride of domestic products.

He tried to persuade the other party to give a bigger discount with a mix of coaxing and deceiving, with some praises that even Ron himself felt ashamed to hear.

And all of this was done in front of the entire crew. Old Laer's microphone was not turned off, and everyone could hear what he said.

The crew stopped working, and everyone could only wait in place. But no one showed impatience, instead, many people looked at Ron with more awe.

Being able to make the director go out of his way to pull strings shows that you have some kind of authority.

“Ron, our advertisement will be broadcast on Doordarshan for a month continuously?” Manisha quietly leaned over.

“At least!” Ron hooked her fair and tender finger, “If the effect is good, maybe it will be broadcast for a year.”

“Wow, a year!” Manisha's eyes lit up with surprise.

After all, it is Doordarshan, appearing on it is equivalent to showing your face in front of all Indians.

As an actress, she needed such an opportunity. Of course, the most important thing was the intimacy Ron showed.

So many people were watching on the set, but he did it so openly and generously. Manisha was a little shy.

“Ron.” She quietly held his hand tightly.

“Good girl, I'll go to your place in a couple of days to eat Tandai cold drinks.”

“Okay.” Manisha happily agreed.

She knew that after today, the people here would no longer make things difficult for her. They were all good at adapting to the situation.

Ron glanced at the charming Manisha and couldn't help but sigh in his heart that compared to Hela, her level was still too low.

“Ron,” Old Laer put down the phone and said proudly, “Next time you renew the contract, you can get a 30% discount.”

“Wow, thank you so much.” Ron sincerely thanked him.

“To get things done in Mumbai, you have to make calls like this. Otherwise, those bastards will think you're easy to bully.”

Old Laer believed that there were two parallel systems in this country, one for acquaintances and one for strangers.

If you don't have connections or authority, you can only go through the stranger system, which often costs a lot more.

Ron didn't actually care about the few hundred thousand rupees saved each month. The important thing was being accepted into the circle.

This is very important, it means that in the media industry, he will also be able to go through the acquaintance system in the future.

See, the 2 million rupee business was given to Old Laer, and the return is slowly being realized.

“By the way, have you solved your funding problem?” Ron asked.

He knew about Old Laer borrowing from loan sharks. Ajay had mentioned it, and Old Laer himself had talked about it.

“Thanks to you, Ron, it's no problem anymore. I almost thought I was going to go bankrupt back then. Ajay even swore he would deal with those people, but I knew he wouldn't do that.”

“He's under a lot of pressure lately. I heard the bombing case has entered a critical stage.”

“It's very troublesome, you know, too many people are calling.” Old Laer said worriedly.

...

Ajay is now vaguely regretting taking over the bombing case. As suspects are arrested one by one, more and more people are getting involved.

Among them is Bollywood star Sanjay Dutt, who comes from a family of actors and has extraordinary connections behind him.

Ajay just summoned the other party for a statement once, and half an hour later, he received more than a dozen calls, every single one of which he couldn't hang up.

He was tired of this relationship but couldn't break free.

He couldn't torture suspects with backgrounds, so it was difficult to get useful information out of them.

To avoid outside harassment, Ajay sometimes left the special police compound and set up the interrogation location in a safe house or a moving police car.

The car windows were covered with one-way privacy film. Ajay in the front seat would yell questions, and his subordinates in the back seat would beat the suspects.

If there was enough time, he would keep the suspects awake for a whole week, and when they were interrogated again, they would confess obediently.

But usually, they don't have that much time to waste, so another method is to connect one end of an old telephone wire to the suspect's arm or lower body, and the other end to a portable generator. Most suspects will yield under the impact of a strong current.

Other times, Ajay would take the suspects to a stream, tie their feet together, and tie a large stone to them. His subordinates would hold the suspects and immerse them in the stream, allowing the weight of the large stone to pull them down.

The suspects' only hope of not drowning, their lifeline, was the police behind them. After being submerged in the water a few times like this, the suspects who were gasping for air, coughing constantly, and even yelling loudly would confess everything as soon as they came out of the water.

The fear of death is the most effective interrogation method.

Just two days ago, Ajay also took several suspects to Borivali National Park. Then he fired a few shots near their ears, and after that, all the problems were solved.

However, for some suspects, ordinary violent methods are not enough to make them confess.

Today, Ajay's subordinates brought two more people to the police station.

“Boss, scare them a little.” A fat policeman came in ahead of time to greet him.

After getting Ajay's permission, the fat policeman brought the two into his office.

“In our boss's hands, you can't live or die. We can't save you, you're finished, kid.”

Ajay cooperated by showing a fierce look, staring directly at them, but saying nothing.

The two arrested, one tall and one short, one thin and one fat. At this moment, there was no expression on their faces, and no intention of speaking.

“Listen, kid!” The fat policeman with a belly full of intestines put his arm around the fat suspect's shoulder and kindly reminded him, “You definitely don't want to experience our boss's methods. The only way you can escape the terrible torture of the long night is to open your mouth and confess so that I can plead for you and let the boss show mercy.”

The fat man glanced at him contemptuously and said nothing.

Slap! A heavy slap landed on his face almost immediately.

Since the good cop, bad cop routine didn't work, they started hitting immediately. There was nothing to say.

After several consecutive slaps, the fat policeman stopped, panting, “Where did the explosives in your car come from? Who were you delivering for?”

These two had delivered explosives for Old Mu in the bombing case and were now caught.

“I don't understand what you're saying, sir. I was just making a normal delivery. I didn't know it was explosives.”

“Are you saying that the goods the pharmaceutical factory asked you to deliver were explosives, and the capsule making machine can spit out black soap?” Ajay questioned sharply, “Do you think we are all fools? Take off their clothes!”

Several policemen quickly took off the two men's belts and whipped them hard. But it was useless, there was no fear in the eyes of these two.

Ajay knew that these two suspects were tough nuts to crack, and ordinary methods were ineffective against them. This also proved that they must know something, and perhaps they were important figures in the bombing case.

He ordered his men to take the two into the interrogation room and brought in four pounds of fried sugar rings.

Thud, thud, two large basins of fried sugar rings were placed in front of the suspects, who were a little confused.

“Feed them some snacks.” Ajay waved his hand.

His subordinates, like wolves and tigers, held down the suspects, then grabbed the fried sugar rings and stuffed them into their mouths.

If they could eat it, they had to eat it. If they couldn't eat it, they still had to eat it.

This torture method sounded good at first, at least more tempting than being beaten.

But there was no water throughout the process. The suspects were force-fed two pounds of fried sugar rings, but couldn't drink a single drop of water.

Half an hour later, the two suspects' faces were flushed, their lips were cracked, and they kept swallowing saliva that no longer existed.

They wanted to scratch their throats, but their arms were tied, so they could only twist their bodies back and forth in vain.

Clink, the sound of metal colliding, attracted their attention.

It was a water cup!

The two men's eyes turned green, staring intently at the cup.

“Want some water?” Ajay asked with a smile.

He knew that in extreme thirst, a person would do anything.

The two didn't speak, didn't even blink, only their throats were constantly moving.

“Okay, let's talk about something easy first.” Ajay slowly turned the water cup, “What goods have you been delivering lately?”

“Medicine.” Finally, the thin man couldn't help but speak.

The fat man next to him glared angrily but was quickly beaten down by several policemen.

“Who are you delivering to, and where did these medicines go?”