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Since 1st March, 1999
 
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WHERE ANGELS DO NOT FEAR TO TREAD

“Do I look like a detective?” asked Preeti Das, a rather plain-looking woman in a printed sari. I had not met a woman detective before. I had no idea what they looked like. Preeti, however, had already decided to answer the question for me. “I am not supposed to look like a detective. I cannot risk being detected, you see,” she said with a smile. That was not all. Even as she made herself comfortable on the chair, she told me not to ask boring questions. “I always have to answer a few in every interview,” she added, in a business-like tone. Then she put her cell phone on the table, took up a bunch of keys with her left hand, and waited for me to begin.

So I started by asking her about her childhood. Preeti did not find the question boring. She turned her face away, looked out of the window, on to a busy Calcutta street below, and started to tell her story.

Preeti was born in a small town in Andhra Pradesh. Her childhood was quite unremarkable. A keen student in school, Preeti loved science. So much so that she graduated with a BSc degree from Mysore University and took up the job of a chemist with Globe Foods, the sister concern of a detective agency. What she did not realize then was that her career was soon to take an unexpected turn.

“I still remember my first assignment as a detective, even after all these years,” says Preeti. There was a brief pause. Then she continued. A man had been under the surveillance of a team of detectives working in Preeti’s company. They needed to get hold of a sample of the suspect’s handwriting. But this was proving to be a difficult task, even for these experienced men. Preeti’s employers then decided to seek her help on this particular assignment. They did not have to rue their decision. Preeti turned up with the handwriting sample without arousing the man’s suspicions. “That was the first time I realized that I could do something different.” A transfer to Calcutta followed, and Preeti started to work as an investigator for a private detective agency.

Over the years, Preeti realized that the real world of a woman detective is very different from that of her fictional counterpart. Complex, baffling cases are rare. Most of the private agencies do not take on criminal cases either. Hence, the element of danger or physical harm to an investigator is minimal. In most cases, Preeti is required to gather information sought by a client. The detective then sets to work, collecting facts, interviewing sources, sifting through data and finally presenting the information to the client. Sometimes, she is also given surveillance duties in which she is expected to keep watch on a target. “Where women excel in this field is getting entry into a place quietly. That is the reason why most agencies employ women for information-gathering,” informs T.K. Das, regional manager, of the city-based Globe Detectives.

There is another area in which woman detectives perform exceptionally. “Marital cases,” quips Preeti. On many occasions, Preeti is asked to do a bit of “homework” on the bride or the groom before a wedding. These, Preeti tells me, are the “Pre-mat” cases. Then, there are the “Post-mat” ones in which a suspicious man or a woman hires a detective to follow his or her straying partner. Of late, Preeti has also noticed affluent families turning to private investigators to report on the activities of their children.

Preeti is often disturbed by what she discovers in the course of her work. “The values that we grew up with as children are no longer in place,” she says. The manner in which men, women and children act in their private, intimate moments has often come as a shock to her middle-class sensibilities. But Preeti seldom takes a moral position on what she witnesses. Neither is she intimidated by her experiences. “I am here to do a job. And do it well”, is all that she will say.

There is a call on her cell phone. Preeti takes it, listens for a while, and says “Chappell South Africa theke eshe gechhe”. Then, she disconnects the call. It must be a secret code, I say to myself. But I pretend not to notice. She tells me that she can speak in five languages. We resume our conversation in one of them.

And what does she think of the nature of her assignments? Are woman detectives given only soft assignments? Preeti seems to be surprised by the question at first. Then she sees the point. “No. In our profession, there is nothing like a soft assignment. It is not as if the men spend their time chasing criminals while women are only asked to follow straying couples. Both men and women detectives are assigned similar tasks, keeping in mind the merits of a particular case,” is her candid answer. She also tells me a secret — “Detectives leading dangerous, glamorous lives can only be found in books. That is why I don’t like reading crime novels.”

But then, there are some woman detectives who love crime novels. Bhavna Paliwal, who runs Tejas, a Delhi-based detective agency, cannot do without jasoosi novels. Bhavna was born in a small town in Uttar Pradesh and grew up on a staple diet of thrillers, written by Ved Prakash Sharma. “I had always wanted to do something different when I grow up,” says Bhavna. She was determined to overcome the difficulties that confront a girl growing up in a village in north India. She got herself an education and went on to pursue a journalism course in a Delhi college. And it was here, in Delhi, that Bhavna started her detective agency. “A woman detective has an advantage. Most of the clients are willing to trust a woman more than a man,” says Bhavna. She has been running her agency for close to a decade now, and has made a name for herself in handling corporate as well as marital cases. There are also women employees in her organization. “Most of them are young girls, just out of college. But they are a gifted and confident lot who are willing to learn quickly.” Today, Bhavna is a successful entrepreneur and detective. “I worked hard, and I have survived,” is what she says before ending the interview.

Preeti will also tell you that it is only the tough who survive in this profession. Ironically, some of the problems that woman private detectives face come from the police. The police, on most occasions, are unwilling to share information or cooperate with them. The detectives are also expected to inform the local police station before moving out for an assignment, a rule that most detectives find difficult to follow, given their busy schedules. The police can also be condescending, possibly because private detectives lack the agency and powers that the state has vested in the former. Yet, there is a strong case for the police working together with private detectives to secure the lives of citizens. This is primarily because there seems to be never enough policemen to cover every part of a metropolis.

There are other problems as well. Private detectives get few opportunities to be trained. Preeti is confident that if she were to be given the right kind of training, she would be equipped to take on criminal cases. They also have to work with outdated tools. But perhaps the greatest drawback is the absence of adequate support from the government. “Sometimes, I wish we had a little more freedom, like the police,” says Preeti who looks unhappy, just for a moment.

Yet, Preeti feels that her profession has empowered her in a certain way. “I have taken on the role of an advisor in the family,” she says. Her views are sought in every matter, even for the most mundane things. “They tell me that I can see what others can’t,” laughs Preeti.

There is another call — this time, possibly from home. Preeti tells someone to prepare egg curry for lunch. I ask her about her children. She tells me that they are proud to have a detective as their mother. That, Preeti tells me, gives her the strength to carry on, even though she knows that she could do with a bigger allowance.

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