The Trap

Part 2 – The Murder Trap

Tanish’s web of fraud kept growing, spreading across different cities under different names. Sometimes he was “Rahul,” a financial consultant promising fake investments. Sometimes he became “Arun,” a property dealer selling plots on forged papers. Other times, he disguised himself as “Ravi,” running shady job consultancy firms. Each time, he duped people, made lakhs, and vanished before the law caught up with him.

But his rising notoriety had reached the ears of powerful people. One such man was Mallaiah Naidu, a local politician feared for his clout and underground dealings. One evening, Tanish received a call.

“Mr. Tanish,” the rough voice echoed over the line, “come and meet me tomorrow. I have a proposal that will make you richer than all your petty scams.”

Curious, Tanish arrived at Mallaiah’s farmhouse. The atmosphere was tense, with bodyguards stationed at every corner. Mallaiah, draped in a crisp white dhoti, sat cross-legged, sipping whisky.

“Tanish,” he said with a smirk, “I’ve heard of your cleverness. Your talent is being wasted on small frauds. Join hands with me. I run a substance network—supply, distribution, everything. You handle the money laundering. We share the profits.”

For a moment, Tanish was tempted. But then he leaned back, flashed his cunning smile, and replied,
“Sir, I can cheat banks, job seekers, land buyers. But I won’t dirty my hands by spoiling people’s health. Drugs and substances… that’s a line I will not cross.”

Mallaiah’s expression changed instantly. His eyes darkened. He poured the whisky down in one gulp and gestured to his men.
“You refuse me, Tanish? Do you think you can walk away after learning my secrets? Kill him.”

Three goons rushed forward with knives. Tanish’s mind raced. With the agility of a cornered fox, he pushed a chair into one man, toppled a table onto another, and smashed a bottle on the third’s head. In the chaos, he escaped through the back door into the fields. His heart pounded as he ran for his life. It was a narrow escape—a reminder of how deep he had sunk into dangerous waters.

But destiny had something darker waiting.

That very night, news broke that Mallaiah Naidu was murdered in his home. Police stormed the farmhouse, sealed the area, and began a forensic sweep. Within hours, crime scene investigators found fingerprints on a whisky glass, a half-broken chair, and even blood stains near the window.

The forensic lab report came back—the prints matched Tanish.

By morning, every newspaper headline screamed:
“Notorious Fraudster Tanish Suspected in Politician’s Murder”
“Conman Turns Killer—Police on Nationwide Hunt”

The ruling party erupted in chaos. Mallaiah was not just a politician; he was a key strategist for the Chief Minister. His murder shook the corridors of power. The Home Ministry wasted no time—this case needed the sharpest mind in the system.

That’s when CBI Additional DGP Jhansi entered the scene.

Known for her fearlessness and razor-sharp instincts, Jhansi was famous for cracking impossible cases. She stood in front of cameras, her firm voice echoing confidence:

“Tanish will not escape. He has fooled the public for years, but this time, he will face justice. I promise the people of this state—I will put him behind bars.”

Meanwhile, Tanish sat in a dimly lit hideout, glued to the TV, watching her speech. His usual arrogant smirk had vanished. Sweat rolled down his temple.

“Jhansi?” he whispered to himself, his voice trembling. “Of all people, why her?”

He knew Jhansi’s reputation—relentless, incorruptible, and dangerously intelligent. Unlike the gullible masses he had cheated, Jhansi could see through his tricks.

For the first time in his life, Tanish felt fear—not of the police, not of prison, but of being trapped for a crime he hadn’t committed.

“Yes, I cheated people,” he muttered to himself, staring at the flickering television. “But murder? Never. I’m not a killer!”

Yet the fingerprints, the forensic evidence, the media—all pointed at him. His name was now permanently tied to blood.

And sitting alone in the hideout, Tanish closed his eyes and revisited his past. The scams, the betrayals, the greed—it all flashed before him.

This time, there was no way to bribe, no way to escape. Because Jhansi was coming.