I am a master in India

Chapter 132 Interrogation
"What did you say to her?" Old Lal was a little surprised when he saw Manisha's performance in front of the camera.

"I'm a doctor. I'm the best at comforting people." Ron rubbed his fingers nostalgically, reminiscing a little.

"Yes, you are still fellow villagers." Old Lal nodded with a relaxed expression.

Advertising shooting is much simpler than filming a movie, and a clip of dozens of seconds can be completed in a day.

After Manisha's Ren and Du meridians are opened, his next work will enter the fast lane.

"The finished film will be delivered to you in three days at most."

"That's perfect. All India Television has already scheduled it for the show, and it will air on time in early May."

"What time period do you plan to put the advertisement?" asked old Lal.

After spending so much time together, they were already considered close friends. Old Lal had been in the entertainment industry for many years and was very familiar with television stations. He was ready to give Ron some advice.

"It will probably be prime time at night, between 8 and 10 o'clock."

“This time slot is not cheap,” he frowned. “Our 60-second ad costs at least 2 rupees per airing.”

"Who made it so that there is only this one TV station in the whole of India?" Ron spread his hands.

In 93, the only television station in India was Doordarshan, which was affiliated with the National Broadcasting Corporation.

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

Before the licensing system was liberalized, private individuals were not allowed to operate broadcasting companies, and this was the only TV station that 9 million Indians could watch.

The strange thing is that other state governments have no plans to operate television stations because they are too poor.

The urbanization rate in most states is less than 30%. In Bihar, for example, 90% of the population are farmers.

Who can afford to buy a TV? The state government does not have such a budget.

So since independence, India has dragged on for decades and has never had a second state-owned television station.

It was only after the liberalization in 91 that businessmen in Mumbai began to set up radio companies one after another.

However, the market is still immature and All India Television is still the only choice for the people, so Ron has no choice.

Fortunately, because the television market is limited, the cost of advertising on all-India television stations is not that high.

2 rupees a day, only 60 a month, much cheaper than The Times of India.

"How long was your contract?" asked old Lal.

"One month, to try out the results first. If it's good, I'll consider renewing it."

"Let me make a call for you." Without waiting for Ron's response, old Lal went to the landline in the studio.

He called someone and enthusiastically interceded on Ron's behalf. He described him as a first-rate man, a testament to the integrity of the people of India. Sur Electric's products were truly unique, a testament to domestically produced goods.

He used both coaxing and deceiving methods to try to persuade the other party to give a greater discount, and some of the praise even made Ron feel ashamed.

All this happened in front of the entire crew. Old Lal's microphone was not turned off, and everyone could hear what he said.

The crew stopped working and everyone could only wait. But no one showed any impatience. Instead, many looked at Ron with more awe.

If the director can spare no effort to use his connections to help you, it means that you have some kind of agency.

"Ron, our advertisement will be broadcast on Indian TV for a month straight?" Manisha came over quietly.

"At least!" Ron hooked her white and tender fingers, "The effect is good, maybe it can last for a year."

"Oh, a year!" Manisha's eyes lit up with surprise.

After all, it is an all-India television station. Being able to appear on it is equivalent to showing your face in front of all Indians.

As an actress, she needed such opportunities. Of course, the most important thing was the intimacy shown by Ron.

There were so many people watching on the set, but he did it so openly that Vanessa felt a little shy.

"Ron." She quietly grasped his hand.

"Be good, I'll come to your place in a couple of days to have some Tandai cold drinks."

"Okay." Vanessa agreed happily.

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

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

"Ron," old Lal said proudly after hanging up the phone, "you can get a 30% discount on your next renewal."

"Wow, thank you so much." Ron thanked sincerely.

"When you're doing business in Mumbai, you have to make calls like this. Otherwise, those bastards will think you're easy to bully."

Old Lal believes that there are two parallel systems in this country, one open to acquaintances and the other for dealing with strangers.

If you don't have connections or agency, you can only resort to the same tactics as strangers, and the cost is often much higher.

Ron actually doesn't care about the hundreds of thousands of rupees he saves every month. What's important is being accepted by the circle.

This is very important, as it means that he will be able to rely on his acquaintances in the media industry in the future.

See, the business of Rs 200 lakh was given to old Lal and the returns are slowly coming.

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

He knew about Old Lal's loan sharking. Ajie had mentioned it, and Old Lal himself had also talked about it.

"Thanks to you, Ron, it's all right now. I almost thought I was going bankrupt. Aggie even vowed to get rid of those guys, but I knew he wouldn't do that."

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

"It's very troublesome, you know, with so many people calling." Old Lal said worriedly. …

Aijie now vaguely regrets taking over the bombing case. As suspects are arrested one by one, more and more people are implicated.

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

Aijie only summoned the other party to take a statement, and half an hour later he received more than a dozen calls, and he couldn't hang up any of them.

He was tired of this kind of human relationship, but he couldn't break free from it.

He cannot torture suspects with backgrounds, so it is difficult to extract useful information.

In order to avoid harassment from the outside world, Aij sometimes left the special police compound and held interrogations in a safe house or a moving police car.

The car windows were covered with one-way vision film. Ajie was shouting in the front seat while his men were torturing the suspect in the back seat.

If he has enough time, he will keep the suspect awake for a whole week, and the suspect will confess when he is interrogated again.

But usually they don't have that much time to waste, so another way is to connect one end of an old-fashioned telephone line to the suspect's arm or underside and the other end to a portable generator. The suspect will most likely succumb to the impact of the strong current.

Sometimes, Aij would take the suspect to a stream, tie his feet, and then tie a large rock to his body. His men would then hold the suspect in the water and dunk him in the stream, letting the weight of the rock pull him down.

The suspect's only hope of escaping drowning, his lifeline, was the police officer behind him. After several dips in the water, gasping for air, coughing, and even shouting, he emerged from the water and confessed everything.

The fear of death is the most effective interrogation method.

Just two days ago, Edgerton took some suspects to Bolivar National Park, shot them in the ear, and everything was settled.

But for some suspects, ordinary violence isn't enough to get a confession.

Today, Ajie's men brought two more people into the police station.

"Boss, try to scare them." A fat policeman came in early to say hello.

After getting Ajie's permission, the fat policeman took the two men to his office.

"In our boss's hands, you're stuck between life and death. We can't save you. You're finished."

Aijie cooperated with a ferocious look, staring at them without saying a word.

The two men who were captured, one tall, one short, one thin, one fat, had no expression on their faces, and no intention of speaking.

"Listen, kid!" the fat, fat-headed policeman put his arm around the fat suspect's shoulders and kindly warned him, "You absolutely don't want to experience our boss's methods. Your only way to avoid the long night of terrible punishment is to confess. Then I can plead for mercy on your behalf and ask the boss for mercy."

The fat man glanced at him contemptuously and said nothing.

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

Since the tactic of one person playing the good cop and the other the bad cop doesn't work, let's just start fighting immediately. There's nothing more to say.

After slapping him several times, the fat policeman stopped panting and asked, "Where did you get the explosives in your car? Who are you delivering for?"

These two people delivered explosives to Lao Mu in the bombing and have now been caught.

"I don't understand what you're talking about, sir. I was just making a normal delivery. I had no idea it was explosives."

"Are you saying the pharmaceutical factory asked you to deliver explosives, and that the capsule-making machine spits out black soap?" Ajie demanded sharply, "Do you think we're all fools? Take off their clothes!"

Several policemen quickly took off the two men's belts and beat them hard, but it was no use. There was no fear in the two men's eyes.

Ajie knew that the two suspects were tough guys, and ordinary methods were ineffective against them. This also proved that they must know something, perhaps they were important players in the bombing.

He ordered the two men to be brought into the interrogation room and brought four pounds of fried candy rings.

Dong, dong, two large bowls of fried candy rings were placed in front of the suspects, who were a little confused.

"Feed them some snacks." Ajie waved his hand.

The men, as ferocious as wolves and tigers, held down the suspects, grabbed the candy rings and stuffed them into their mouths.

Eat whether you can or not.

This punishment sounds good at first glance, at least it is much more attractive than being beaten.

But there was no water during the entire process. The suspects were forced to eat two kilograms of fried candy rings but were not allowed to drink a drop of water.

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

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

Ding, the sound of metal collision attracted their attention.

It's a water cup!
Their eyes glowed green as they stared at the cup.

"Would you like some water?" Aijie asked with a smile.

He knew that when thirsty a man was capable of anything.

The two men didn't speak, didn't even blink, only their throats kept moving.

"Well, let's talk about something light-hearted first." Aijie slowly turned the cup. "What kind of goods are you delivering recently?"

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

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

“Who did they send it to, and where did the medicines go?”

"Send it to Khad Khan and then smuggle it out to sea through Doctor Sur."

"Who?!" Aijie was stunned.

(End of this chapter)