Click Bait

 “Hold on, Prateik, wait for me.” Rumi’s voice echoed in the surrounding silence. But Prateik’s car had already crossed the huge Iron Gate. The screeching of its tyres against the dried leaves felt like the blow of belts on Rumi. What did she do to deserve this? Her huge mansion stood against her silhouette, like an ancient ghost roaming for decades. Her coarse hair strands flying astray, like crazy serpents, Rumi stood there frozen, without any idea of time. She just stood, looking beyond the iron gate, towards the pebbled road from where the car had gone. Prateik had left her. 

Rumi stayed lying on her bed. Time passed, but she did not move. Her gaze was fixed on the ceiling fan. It was as if it were calling her, “Come, I am your destiny.” The doorbell rang. She ignored. It had rung many times since morning. Maybe the maid, the caretaker, the gardener- everyone came, rang the bell and left. But this time, someone opened the door. Footsteps approached the hallway, and they reached Rumi’s ears, but she chose to ignore them. She heard a familiar voice calling out her name. It was Varma uncle, their manager. After Rumi’s father’s demise, he had been looking after the estate till Prateik arrived in her life. 

Prateik disliked any interference of outsiders in any of their affairs- be it personal or be it about business. He claimed to have handled many successful businesses, so Rumi did not see any harm in letting him take over all the power. She herself was not well-versed in the nitty-gritty of business and finances. 

Varma uncle had been looking after everything for a long time. But after Prateik took over the business, his role was confined to just keeping the accounts, until one fine day, even that was stopped by Prateik. He retired and was getting his pension, but never forgot to check on Rumi. He had watched her grow up from a chirpy little girl to a graceful poetess. A romantic at heart, she often found herself lost in her relationships. She was sensitive, polite, and always ready to shower her love on anyone nice to her, often on the wrong ones, too. And somehow, he had the notion that Prateik was not right for her. His extremely controlling behaviour often made Rumi shudder. She was a free-flowing bird, happy to read books, travel and write poetry and too much in love with Prateik. Only Rumi was aware that Varma Uncle had a spare key to the house.

Varma uncle knocked on Rumi’s bedroom door. Once, twice, thrice, and Rumi did not answer. He opened the door. Rumi was lying there, staring blankly at the ceiling. Her body was slack; one of her hands was hanging loosely from the edge of the bed, her hair coarse and matte. Her lips and face had turned a pale white. The AC was set to 13 degrees, and the room was freezing. Varma uncle ran to her side and shook her up from that near-fainting state. For the first time in so many hours, tears flooded out of her eyes. Varma uncle could sense what had happened.

Rohini Varma entered Prateik’s bedroom to have a look at his belongings. This was her third case in her investigating career, thanks to her uncle, the retired manager of the Agarwal Group of Industries and Estates. Her client, Rumi Agarwal, was hardly in a position to speak. She had been traumatised after her husband, Prateik, left her. Later on, upon investigation, it was found that he had absconded with a large amount of money from the company. Rumi was not aware of the fraud. She was in shock, and this information could have done more damage to her health. Upon searching Prateik’s bedroom, Rohini did not find much. The man had been quite sly and had done everything very smoothly. It had been a pre-planned fraud. 

Rohini checked on Prateik Paul’s social media accounts. His presence was almost nil, barring one Famebook account, from where he had started to communicate with Rumi a few years back. There were one or two pictures of him. He seemed like a decent guy. The last update was from two years back. And the profile was created only three years back. She had to talk to Rumi; otherwise, this would not lead anywhere. Given the family’s reputation, the incident had to be kept away from the police and media. 

Rohini carefully studied Prateik’s picture on his social media. There were a few pictures of him on Rumi’s phone. His phone number was coming up as invalid. That would not be a problem. She had her resources to get every call detail from an invalid number. She noticed one thing common in all the pictures. He wore a particular clothing brand, Gowner. It was a reputed designer store in the city with several branches. Only the rich and famous could afford their ensembles. That made her work easier. All she needed was a detailed conversation with Rumi. She would wait for her to get a little better. But it was necessary. 

From her uncle, she had learned that Prateik was a controlling man who took every matter related to business or the household into his own hands. Like his uncle, many trusted employees were shown the door on the pretext that they were incompetent and slow. Rumi was so blinded by love that she failed to see all these red flags and trusted him despite Varma uncle’s warnings. 

Rumi was slowly recovering but was still in denial of what had happened to her. Rohini had to be very careful while questioning. As she entered Rumi’s living room, she found her looking out of the window. Her mouth appeared dry and white. Her lips were cracked. She looked nothing like the jolly and charming woman in all the photographs. Within a few days, the deterioration in her health was evident in her appearance. 

Rohini politely introduced herself and asked for her permission before proceeding with the questions. 

“Why did your husband leave you? Did you have a fight with him?”

“We had been fighting for the last few months over trivial matters. It was as if he started making a mountain out of a molehill. He started picking up on me, pointing at things that I might have done without asking him. Like adding a piece of new décor or shifting some furniture. He also started creating scenarios that somehow made it appear that I was trying to harm him.”

“How exactly. Please share what happened?”

“One day, he accidentally slipped in the kitchen because of spilt oil all over the floor. He implied I did that, but I did not even enter the kitchen. Another day, as he was about to sit on the chair for dinner, he showed me a sharp knife on it. It implied that I had kept it there to injure him.”

“You mean to say, he wanted to make scenarios that would have suggested you wanted to kill him?”

“That time, I did not see these incidents in this way, but now I don’t have any other choice than to think in this line.”

“Why didn’t you inform Varma uncle? He was always in touch with you.”

“Prateik was a very private person. He did not like anyone interfering in our personal matters. And I did not want to upset him.” Rumi sighed.

“Are you aware of the missing money and assets from the company?” Ruhi was careful to phrase her words correctly.

“Yes, I do, and now it is clear that he had fooled me into the relationship only to get access to the money.” Rumi covered her face with both her palms.

“Can you share details of how you met him and what led you to marry him so fast?”

“We became Famebook friends. He seemed very courteous and charming from the very beginning. And when we met, he was always concerned for me and caring. I had observed that he never ever looked at or paid attention to anybody when we were together. I had everything in life, but love. So, I fell for his charm, what now appears to be all his acting.” Rumi paused to breathe. She clearly was not comfortable speaking further.

Rohini left from there. She started thinking about the only information she had about Prateik: his mobile number and the clothing brand he wore. 

She ran back to Rumi’s room once again. “Did Prateik always use to wear clothes from Gowner?”

“Yes, that was his favourite brand, and I have never seen him wearing anything else.”

“Did he order the clothes or buy them from the boutique?”

“He always ordered online.”

It was time for some shopping now. Rohini drove downtown to the main branch of Gowner. It had been quite a rage a decade back, and every Tinseltown celebrity used to endorse their outfits. However, for a few years, things had slowed down. It seemed they were unable to keep up with the constantly emerging trends.  But still, they were a name to reckon with. As she entered the boutique, a stylishly clad woman greeted her. Without wasting time, Rohini wanted to see the proprietor, Mrs Vaswani. After some convincing, she managed to make her way to Mrs Vaswani’s office. 

Mrs Vaswani was a very stylish woman in her late 50s. As Rohini entered her office, she looked at her from under her reading glasses. “How may I help you? My manager said it was urgent.” 

“Yes, actually, I stay in Hong Kong, and we are planning to set up a business of Indian designer wear there. I have a proposal for a partnership, if you agree to discuss more.”

“We have a few clients in Hong Kong. A partnership sounds good, but I have to know every detail of your proposal.”

“I want the partnership to be for an online store. I am sure you have a significant presence online too.”

“Oh yes, we have our online store. However, I am completely clueless about these online things. So, there is one guy who takes care of the online business. And you have to speak to him for all the details.”

“That would be great if you could provide me with his address.”

“I am afraid, I don’t have his address. The only thing that I can share is his email ID. We communicate through emails. “

Rohini, a bit startled at Mrs Vaswani’s naivety, took the email ID from her. 

That night, she came into her brother Pinku’s room. As always, he was immersed in his laptop. Rohini showed him the email address and asked if there was any way to find the man's real address from it. It was a cakewalk for Pinku. He created a fake email account and sent a business proposal with a link to a form to be filled out. They also made sure to add Mrs Vaswani’s name as a reference. “Now go to sleep and let me work. Tomorrow you will get your culprit’s location.”

Rohini could not sleep that night. When she woke up in the morning, the first thing she did was to barge into Pinku’s room. He was asleep, but fortunately, his laptop was open. She opened the fake email account and was elated to find a reply to the email they had sent last night. As she opened the mail, she found a reply expressing interest, along with an acknowledgement that the form had been filled out. She almost pulled Pinku from his bed. “You sleepyhead, he has replied."

It took around 10-15 minutes for Pinku to locate the exact address through the IP address from where the mail had been sent. It was a cyber cafe in the city, not very far. The mail was sent at around midnight. It was strange, as cyber cafes are generally closed by that time. But this was a breakthrough in the investigation. Promising Pinku to take him out for dinner next weekend, Rohini got dressed up and hired her usual cab. It was going to be a long day. 

The cyber cafe had just opened when she reached there. The man at the desk asked her to wait a moment before the staff switched on all the computers. Rohini showed Prateik’s picture to the man. “Do you know him?” 

“Of course, he is my friend, Bunty. Are you his girlfriend? Heena or Riya?” he laughed obscenely. 

“I am Riya. I want to meet him right now. Where can I find him?”

“I knew this would happen one day. He lives upstairs.” He again laughed in a manner that boiled Rohini’s blood. But she had to stay calm.

She climbed up the wooden stairs to a small, half-opened room. As she peeped inside, she saw Prateik working on his laptop on his bed. He had grown a beard and trimmed his hair very short by now. She entered. This was the time to showcase her acting skills: "Hands up, Prateik Paul, aka Bunty. You are under arrest.”

Prateik was baffled at this sudden intrusion, but he was a seasoned imposter. It did not take him long to push Rohini aside and run down the stairs within a few seconds. Down at the gate stood Ratan Singh, the driver whose cab Rohini booked whenever she went on a field operation. As a bodybuilder himself, Ratan Singh made it difficult for anyone to escape. Within minutes, Prateik was inside the cab with Rohini, holding the gun to his temple, still posing as a cop. 

When the cab reached Agarwal Villa, the drawing hall was already filled with a few members. There was Varma uncle, Rumi and Mrs Vaswani. Before leaving her house, Rohini had called everyone to gather there. 

Prateik sat on a couch with Ratan Singh standing behind. 

Rohini started speaking. “This started a few years back. Prateik Paul, aka Bunty, had been a criminal for a while. His speciality was befriending women and running away with their money. His target had always been affluent women, looking for company. So far, his crimes were not reported, as the women did not want to get involved in scandals. So, Bunty’s greed grew, and he came up with a brilliant plan. He learned that Mrs Vaswani was looking to revive her boutique, Gowner. He emailed her with an idea for an online portal. When Mrs Vaswani agreed, he started the online business in good faith, but he also obtained information about the boutique's rich and famous clients. That was how he came to know about Rumi Agarwal. He did a lot of research about her before creating a Famebook profile and befriending her through that. We all know the rest of the story.”

Rumi started sobbing by now. Rohini went up to her and patted her back. “I know it is very heartbreaking to find the man you have loved so much has betrayed you in that way. But you know what, Rumi? Please be a little more aware of your financial responsibilities. It is ok to trust someone, but it is not ok to hand him over your entire power. “You” are the owner of Agarwal Group of Companies, not anyone else."

She looked at Mrs Vaswani. “Same with you, Mrs Vaswani; you should not trust a person by communicating with him through emails only, without knowing anything. What if the Police got involved in it? Do you realise what would have happened to the reputation of your business? Ladies in the room, we have to be very careful about whom we should trust. It’s not a very rosy world, and people like Bunty are all over, just looking for an opportunity to grab.”

Mrs Vaswani said she would inform the police, and Rumi agreed too. They could not let him walk free after what he had done because who knew which woman he might target next. But this was his end- a simple clickbait.

 This post is an entry to Penmancy's Short Story #Harnesswriting contest #Rubicon

 This post is a part of #Bacaht&beyondbloghop hosted by Manali Desai and Sukaina Majeed under #Everyconversationmatters Blog Hop Series