Devendra Pardesi

Devendra Pardesi, a deputy superintendent of police with the Special Task Force of the Central Bureau of Investigation, stands at the center of one of the most cinematic moments in the book's chronicle of Mumbai's underworld: the handover of Abu Salem and Monica Bedi by Portuguese authorities at Lisbon airport. A veteran of tough cases and tougher criminals, Pardesi is the officer who receives the two fugitives and escorts them into Indian custody, an event that marks the beginning of the end for one of the most notorious criminal partnerships in Mumbai's history. His role, however, extends beyond this single dramatic scene; he later becomes a crucial source for the authors, helping them reconstruct the story of a reluctant subject who refused to speak for herself.

Identity and Professional Background

Pardesi is introduced as a deputy superintendent of police with the Special Task Force of the Central Bureau of Investigation, a position that places him at the sharp end of the state's fight against organized crime. He is described as a man who has "handled tough cases and tougher criminals," a professional whose experience has left him difficult to surprise. Yet the scene at Lisbon airport tests even his composure. As the police convoy cuts across the runway with blaring sirens and gun-toting guards, Pardesi watches the thirty-six-year-old man in a black T-shirt and track pants step out with a stooping gait and a nervous smile. For a moment, he cannot believe his eyes; the man being handed over by the Portuguese police simply does not fit the bill of one of Mumbai's most dreaded gangsters, someone who had masterminded some of the most gruesome murders in the annals of Mumbai crime history. This moment of disbelief reveals a professional whose mental image of criminality is challenged by the unremarkable appearance of the man before him.

The Lisbon Handover

Pardesi's role in the Lisbon handover is marked by a series of observations that betray his professional eye. As the second car's occupant steps out, he notes the details with the precision of a trained investigator: a policeman holds the door open, a woman's legs emerge and settle on the tarmac toes first, then heels, as she climbs gracefully out of the vehicle. Her fair skin appears pale and almost translucent in the afternoon heat; tall and slim, she has very delicate features that are strained as she clutches a Bible like a lifesaver. Pardesi's assessment is immediate and telling: Monica Bedi was no Madhuri Dixit, but she was attractive, and he thought she fit the bill of a mobster's moll perfectly. He wonders how this otherwise naive-looking woman could have gotten involved in such a mess. His boss, deputy inspector general of police, CBI, Omprakash Chhatwal, signs the official documents and nods at Pardesi, who moves cautiously towards Abu Salem. The caution in his approach underscores the gravity of the moment and the danger inherent in handling a man of Salem's reputation.

Role as a Source

Beyond the Lisbon scene, Pardesi's significance to the book lies in his willingness to share previously unknown information with the authors. The chapter on Monica Bedi proved tricky to compile, as she remained adamant and refused to talk despite repeated assurances that her story would be treated fairly. Fortunately, Central Bureau of Investigation officers came to the authors' rescue, and among them were deputy superintendent of police Raman Tyagi and Retd. DSP Devendra Pardesi, both of whom had worked on the case. They helped plug the loopholes in Monica's story by sharing information that had not been publicly known. This contribution is acknowledged in the book's acknowledgments, where Pardesi is named alongside Tyagi as a crucial resource. His willingness to speak, in contrast to Monica's silence, highlights the asymmetry of knowledge in the criminal justice system: the state's officers hold the records, the timelines, and the details that the public narrative lacks.

Narrative Significance

The figure of Devendra Pardesi embodies the book's broader interest in the machinery of law enforcement that surrounds the underworld. His professional skepticism at Lisbon—his inability to reconcile the unremarkable man before him with the feared gangster of reputation—echoes a recurring theme in the book: the gap between the myth of the mafia and its mundane reality. The nervous smile, the stooping gait, the pale skin of the woman clutching a Bible: these are the details that puncture the glamour of crime. Pardesi's presence also anchors the narrative in the world of official procedure, the paperwork, the signed documents, the cautious approach, that forms the counterpoint to the violence and drama of the underworld. In a book that gives voice to women criminals, Pardesi represents the state's perspective, a reminder that these stories are also the stuff of police dossiers and extradition treaties. His role, both as a witness to a historic handover and as a source for the authors, makes him a quiet but essential figure in the book's architecture.