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give evidence in your favour? I do not ask any of you to be afraid of the cutthroat comrades. There is no other man in East Tanjore who has earned their hatred as much as me. I am their enemy number one. They have turned our own people against us, so we should know when to be daring and when to be discreet.’
    At this point it suddenly strikes me that every authoritative villain must stroke something and keep his hands busy. Like Vito Corleone and Blofeld with cats. Sadly, Gopalakrishna Naidu is a dog person. Moreover, Tommy, his Alsatian, has never been allowed to climb on to his lap. So I dismiss this stray idea, abandon my quest for a prop, and return to the story. A few things have transpired since we drifted off, but I don’t think we have missed much.
    â€˜There is no need to introduce the next hero in our midst. His lands are spread across eight villages, but, being wrapped up in his manly exploits, this minor finds no time to attend to agriculture, or our useless association.’
    The second target is Ramanuja Naidu. Gopalakrishna Naidu has quickly battered the fragile egos of some of his relatives and so he finds himself on a moral high-ground. Whom does he pick next? Not Balakrishna Naidu, his nephew. Not Murthy, his agent who is seated to his right. Not Damu. Not Kittu. Not Perumal Naidu. Not Narayanasamy Pillai. Not Kothandam Pillai. Not any puppet. Not Pakkirisami Pillai of Irukkai, lifeline forimported labour. Not the Porayar father-son duo, landlords living in Kilvenmani (according to information circulated by the Communists, the father was a routine pimp). Not Andhakkudi Chinnaswamy Iyer, famous in the district for throwing stones at untouchables who entered his street. Not Adikesavalu. Not any of the other henchmen. Not Arumuga Mudaliar, his old enemy. Not Ramu Thevar, the treasurer. Not even the loud-mouthed Sambandhamoorthy Mudaliar, or his agent Kaathaan Perumal. Not Kayarohanam Chettiar, mirasdar moneylender of Nagapattinam. Each of them will have to wait for their turn.
    â€˜People say that you joined the Communists. I hope it is only gossip.’ He singles out Ganapati Nadar. ‘But who can stop these ignorant people from speaking whatever comes into their minds? And they have good reason to say what they are saying. Every village in Nagapattinam sports our association flag, doesn’t it? Except the village of Kilvenmani, which has the fortune of being owned by you, and the misfortune of being covered in red flags. Forgive me, Comrade Ganapati, if your stomach churns at all this talk, but, seriously, are you thinking of upstaging us?’
    Ramu Thevar attempts to intercede, but agent Murthy silences him with his eyes. As Gopalakrishna Naidu’s Man Friday, this is an official obligation.
    Shocked into standing, his body considerably stooped, Ganapati hastily professes his loyalty and his devotion.‘I have asked them to remove the red flags – even yesterday I did – many times I did.’
    â€˜Oh! You want me, you want us, to believe you. All the red cloth in Nagapattinam flies in that village. But how would you have seen it? Both your wives have kept you busy.’
    Ganapati Nadar is taken aback by this abrupt attack, but he remains silent. Meanwhile, established as a villain within these first few pages, and resembling a no-nonsense man because of all the fictional fleshing out, Gopalakrishna Naidu takes the initiative to work on his dialogue delivery.
    â€˜You can ask them again and again. It is better if you make them mend their ways. Otherwise I will have to intervene and teach a lesson to every Pallan and Paraiyan and Chakkili. Everybody knows what happened to untouchables in my village – Irinjiyur is communism-free. If they want to stay on our land, they should obey our rules. If they do not want to obey us, they can remain underground for ever, like their comrade Chinnapillai. They can continue being Communist without causing trouble to