The Fall Of Dongri's Drug Queen

Iqra Qureshi, an elusive drug operator in Dongri, becomes the NCB's prime target after confessions expose her as the key figure in a mephedrone network. Despite months of surveillance, she remains a step ahead of the authorities.

A sudden tip-off leads to a raid on her home, where officers recover a significant drug consignment and arrest her though her composure hints the story may not truly end there.

A fascinating excerpt from S Hussain Zaidi and Velly Thevar's Mafia Queens of India.

With Sonu Pathan and Chinku out of the picture, the authorities had begun to slowly circle her. As powerful as she was in the underworld, Iqra knew that her name was on their radar. Her peddlers were being watched, and the police had started cracking down on the meow meow trade.

What once gave her an untouchable status was now putting her empire at risk. The only question that remained was whether the police would catch her before she vanished into the shadows, or if she would find a way to slip through their fingers once again.

Officer Ashish Ranjan Prasad was in his cabin; Aijaz's and Amjad's confessions were still buzzing in his mind. He glanced at the file in front of him, Iqra Qureshi's name scrawled across the top in bold black letters.

The whispers about her had been heard for months, but now, with these confessions, it was more than just hearsay. She was the key, the lynchpin, the thread that could unravel an entire network.

He flipped through the pages again, studying every detail they had on her. Iqra was a street-smart peddler. She was operating from Dongri, a known hub, but she had stayed off their radar for too long. She was elusive, cunning, with ties that ran deep into the underworld.

Ashish knew they had to move fast. The Bureau was already buzzing with the news, and pressure was mounting. He rubbed his temples, fatigue and determination mixing in equal measure. Getting to her wouldn't be easy; she was smart, slippery, and always one step ahead. And then there were her connections like Sonu Pathan and Chinku Pathan -- names that came with their own share of danger.

The door to the interrogation room swung open, and another officer poked his head in: "Sir, the team's ready. What's the plan?"

Ashish closed the file and stood up, his expression set: "We go after her. But we do it carefully. I don't want another tip-off or botched raid."

NCB Eyes Everwhere

The NCB had started tightening the noose around Iqra. Dongri had eyes everywhere. From cramped lanes to parked cars, the plainclothes officers watched, waiting for her to slip. But Iqra was a phantom.

Voltage Night Club, where her crew was rumoured to deal, became a hunting ground for the cops. But Voltage was a maze: It throbbed with deafening music; pulsing lights bathed everything in red and purple, hiding more than they revealed. The women moved like shadows, their eyes glittering as they circled the men.

The officers, scattered across the club, tried to exercise restraint until they could catch Iqra red-handed. But she would never show up; it was always her crew. She was running the deals but she was a whisper -- never seen, never caught.

The peddlers danced between them, invisible to eyes trained for crime. Every night, the officers left empty-handed.

On the night of April 7, 2021, Officer K Kiran sat at his desk, speaking with his informants on the ground. Weeks of watching had yielded nothing but patterns that led nowhere. His face, lined from long nights, gave nothing away. But inside, he was restless; Iqra was close -- he could feel it. She had been evading the NCB for months, but the streets had begun to murmur.

And then it came: A soft vibration against his desk. His phone lit up with a message -- a single notification that stopped the room's air. He swiped it open, and there it was: A tip, clean and sharp like a knife -- the kind that couldn't be ignored. A big consignment had been delivered to Iqra's home.

The message didn't stop there; the next line held what they'd been trying to get for months: Iqra's address, the exact name of the building, and the floor.

Without pausing, Kiran fired off a message to V M Singh, superintendent of NCB, Mumbai. The address glowed on his phone screen as he typed the words that could change everything. The message zipped through, carrying the breakthrough they had been waiting for. Months of surveillance, dead leads, and chaotic club raids -- all of it pointed to this one spot, this one moment.

On April 6, 2021, Ashish Ranjan Prasad stood at the edge of Dongri's narrow streets. He tightened the grip on his walkie, scanning the lanes that seemed indifferent to the storm about to hit them.

The law required two independent witnesses for the raid. Dongri wasn't a neighbourhood known for cooperation with the police, but without the witnesses, the raid couldn't proceed. His eyes darted through the market street -- a sea of vendors, hawkers, and teenagers lingering on motorbikes.

After a few tense moments, his team approached two locals: Faizan Shaikh Javed, a wiry man in his thirties, and Mohsin Ayub Khan, a heavyset shopkeeper who towered over most of the crowd. Prasad quickly sized them up; their faces showed curiosity, maybe suspicion, but no hostility -- he could work with that.

"Faizan, Mohsin," Prasad said. "We're conducting a raid on a serious target. A drug trafficker named Iqra Qureshi. We need two independent witnesses to accompany us".

Faizan glanced at Mohsin, who shifted his weight, looking towards the narrow lane where the raid would soon unfold. It wasn't an easy thing to ask of them, to get involved in something that dangerous. Dongri had its own rules, but there was something in Prasad's voice, the way he laid it out without nonsense or hesitation, that made them listen. They agreed.

"Good," Prasad said.

The Time For The Raid

He introduced the rest of his team, their faces tense but focused. The moment had come; this was more than a raid -- it was their shot at finally bringing Iqra out of the shadows. The group moved deeper into the maze of Dongri, the witnesses walking alongside the officers.

The raid began just after noon. The sun was high, casting sharp angles through the narrow lanes. Ashish Ranjan Prasad and his team approached Iqra's house, a crumbling structure squeezed between two other buildings, its faded paint blending into the chaos of the street. Prasad reached the door and rapped his knuckles against the wood. For a moment, there was nothing -- just the distant sounds of vendors calling out and children laughing in alleyways. Then, the door creaked open.

Iqra stood there, framed in the doorway, her face still as stone. She was petite, 5'4", but something about her made the space around her seem small, like she commanded it without effort. Her dark eyes, cold and unblinking, gave away nothing as she looked at the officers. She had a scar that told its own story: One of survival, authority, and a life lived in the shadows.

Prasad flashed his ID card: "We're here to search".

Ms Deiva Rani, the female officer on the team, moved forward. She approached Iqra, her hands methodical, searching for what they already suspected. The silence stretched thin as Deiva's hands worked through Iqra's clothing, moving over her arms and her waist. Then, a moment of pause; her fingers stopped.

Deiva's eyes moved to Prasad before pulling out a small transparent polybag, hidden within the folds of Iqra's kurta. Inside, a light brown powder caught the sunlight streaming through the doorway: Mephedrone (MD). Then they continued searching the rest of the house and found 52.2 grams.

The team knew what that meant: The street value alone was worth Rs 1.5 lakhs -- enough to destroy lives and send Iqra away for years. Still, Iqra's face remained a mask, showing no sign of fear or defeat. It was as if she'd expected this day to come, her scarred brow a silent reminder that she had faced worse.

Iqra was arrested. Yet, this victory was fleeting; even as they drove her away, Ashish couldn't shake the sense that Iqra still had tricks up her sleeve. The look in her eyes, quiet and calculating, hinted that their battle with the 'Drugs Queen' was far from over.

This edited excerpt is from Mafia Queens of India by S Hussain Zaidi and Velly Thevar. It has been used with the kind permission of the publisher Simon and Schuster India.