The fact is that it may never ever be revealed. For whom J Jayalalitha's word is gospel, know for sure that he was moved out because someone bribed someone in the corridors of power in the capital. Those who like to believe that AB Vajpayee will do no wrong may see behind it all a conspiracy to wreck his government. For others, truth will never be out. Everyone who seeks it is pleased to lay a golden lid on the face of truth. So the identity of those close to Vajpayee whom Jayalalitha saw lobbying for Bezbaruah's transfer will ever remain elusive.

For seekers of truth, it is yet another setback. But there is some small thing that should bring them cheer. Three points of useful information have been brought out in the course of this great national inquiry to find the face of corruption.

Point one: Jayalalitha is dead against corruption. Point two: It is "routine" for Vajpayee to transfer a senior official holding a sensitive portfolio three years ahead of schedule even without the knowledge of the concerned minister. Point three: Sahib Singh Verma has discovered that Bezbaruah is a transport wizard who alone can set things right on Delhi's roads.

Such is Jayalalitha's credibility that everyone was first tempted to believe that Bezbaruah had been moved out in deference to her wish. An intrepid champion of freedom and crusader against corruption, she finds herself enmeshed in an endless mosaic of cases of graft. She has left no one in doubt that her most important agenda is to stop or neutralise every such case instituted against her. Who does not know that every such case is intended to reverse the revolt she initiated when she rose to the helm in Fort St George some years ago? It is understandable that M Karunanidhi, whose life's mission is to terminate her political existence, will do everything to have her convicted for corruption. Not so when Vajpayee lets the law loose on her.

Everyone knew that Vajpayee was expected to work for the victory of the revolt initiated by Jayalalitha ever since she made it possible for him to become prime minister. None becomes prime minister just like that. None who lets law take its own wayward course remains prime minister for long. It has all along been Jayalalitha's unspoken demand that law should not be allowed to take its blind course against her; law should rather be guided along a route as prescribed by her. When Bezbaruah, whose department seemed to enjoy needling her for some time now, was shown the door, it was logical to infer that it was a good turn done by Vajpayee to his belligerent ally. Someone somewhere indeed expected that nonsense would wash for a while. It did not.

The BJP's think-tank was being too clever by half. It knew Bezbaruah was being sacrificed for some other reason, but it would be useful to make it appear that Jayalalitha was dictating terms and that she would be the principal beneficiary of his transfer. A helpless prime minister whose greatest concern is for stability in governance is yielding to certain preposterous demands of his ally only to safeguard broader national interests even at the cost of his personal reputation. That was an excellent stratagem. Vajpayee was about to get the best of both the worlds: the world of helplessness and the world of complicity. Jayalalitha proved, for once, to be too sharp for his brains trust.

For all his reputation for probity, Vajpayee gives an impression of levity when he lapses into an interminable series of exertions to defend himself. His explanation that Bezbaruah's transfer was a routine affair, routinely effected behind the back of the minister concerned, was fun. His observation that Jayalalitha had furnished no proof for her statement that quarters close to him had been bribed for the transfer of Bezbaruah was less than levity. The tragedy is that Vajpayee seems to expect a whole nation to lap up his esoteric theory of routine and proof.

He was being too clever by half when he left his advisors to let him down. It was clear that someone wanted Bezbaruah out for some wrong reason. Someone was shrewd enough to concoct what he imagined would be some right reason for Bezbaruah's ouster from the enforcement directorate. Sahib Singh Verma readily provided it in the form of a request for his services for a sundry assignment. A chief minister who is only too happy to ask for the services of an official whom a prime minister wants to ease out of his sensitive assignment for a suspicious reason is no more worthy of his chair than the latter. Both believe people are fools and/or can be fooled.

Bezbaruah's ouster may not mark the end of the crusade against corruption. Before him, too, there were half-hearted efforts to punish some chosen corrupt people. After him, too, such efforts will continue inexorably. It is, therefore, not necessary to conclude that deluge will come after Bezbaruah. It is also not right to insist that anyone appointed to a post can be moved out only at the end of his prescribed term, never before. In the political-administrative structure India has opted for itself, political office-holders do enjoy supremacy by virtue of their claim to be people's representatives. Their calculation is that people can be fooled. Jayalalitha does not take herself seriously when she says she is appalled by the bribery in quarters close to Vajpayee. Vajpayee makes everyone laugh when he treats Bezbaruah's transfer three years ahead of schedule as routine. Sahib Singh Verma knows Delhi's transport system will remain chaotic with or without Bezbaruah, whose services he has requisitioned on anemergency basis.

Every people's representative duly expects he can happily fool his people. So it may be useful to prescribe that political bosses can of course shuffle and reshuffle secretaries as well as sub-inspectors, but they should do so only after making their reasons public. That, Vajpayee may protest, is not routine.