Chapter 6: Shadows of Patel Textiles

The next morning, Pranav stood outside the old, imposing gates of Patel Textiles. The building loomed over him, a silent monument to what had once been one of the largest textile factories in Chennai. Now, it was a decaying husk, its large windows coated with layers of dust, the once-bustling machines within long abandoned. It was the place the riddles had been pointing to, and Pranav was determined to uncover why.

He had come here hoping to speak with the directors of Patel Industries. But as he entered the office and met with the CFO, a middle-aged man named Mr. Rajagopal, he was greeted with unwelcome news.

“The directors?” Rajagopal adjusted his glasses, his tone measured. “I’m afraid they’ve left for Thailand on a business meeting. They’re not expected back for at least a week.”

Pranav clenched his jaw in frustration. The urgency of the investigation seemed to grow with every passing hour, and the fact that the key people were out of the country only added to the tension. Still, there was no time to waste.

“Mr. Rajagopal, I need to know what happened here,” Pranav said firmly, his eyes locking onto the CFO’s. “Why was Patel Textiles shut down?”

Rajagopal sighed, leaning back in his chair. He seemed reluctant, as if there were things he preferred not to discuss, but Pranav’s intense gaze left no room for evasion.

“It was financial trouble, Inspector,” Rajagopal began, his voice carefully neutral. “The company had been struggling for years. Cheap imports, rising labor costs, poor management decisions… you name it. The directors tried everything to keep the business afloat, but it wasn’t enough. Eventually, they had to let go of most of the workers. The closure was inevitable.”

Pranav nodded, absorbing the information. It was a common story in the textile industry, but something felt off. “And what about the workers? Were there any disputes? Accusations against the management?”

Rajagopal shook his head. “There were protests, of course. Any time a factory shuts down, you’ll have disgruntled employees. But nothing major. No threats, no violence. Patel Textiles was always a respectable company, Inspector.”

Pranav wasn’t convinced. There was something too clean about Rajagopal’s version of events, too corporate. But without the directors present, this was all he was going to get for now.

As he stood to leave, Pranav’s thoughts turned to Balan — the missing man whose family had already been drawn into this twisted game. His gut told him that Balan was a key to unraveling the mystery behind Patel Textiles.

Balan’s house stood in stark contrast to the industrial office Pranav had just left. It was a small, crumbling structure at the end of a narrow lane in one of Chennai’s older neighborhoods. The paint was peeling, the roof sagged, and the single window on the front wall was cracked. It was the kind of house that spoke of years of neglect, a reflection of the struggles within.

Pranav knocked on the flimsy wooden door, and after a few moments, it creaked open. A young woman, perhaps in her early twenties, stood in the doorway. Her eyes were sunken with exhaustion, her clothes simple but clean.

“Inspector,” she said softly, stepping aside to let him in. “Please… come in.”

Pranav entered the cramped living room, where the air was heavy with the smell of dampness. A single ceiling fan creaked overhead, its slow, uneven rotations barely moving the hot air. The furniture was sparse — a battered wooden table, a few mismatched chairs, and a worn-out sofa.

Balan’s daughter motioned for Pranav to sit, and as he did, he noticed an old photograph on the wall — a younger, healthier Balan, tall and well-built, standing proudly with his family. But now, the image felt like a relic of another time.

“Where is your mother?” Pranav asked gently.

“She’s in the back, resting. Ever since Appa went missing, she hasn’t been well,” the girl said, her voice strained. “I can tell you everything.”

Pranav nodded, leaning forward. “I need to know what happened at Patel Textiles. Your father worked there, didn’t he?”

“Yes,” she said, her voice hardening slightly. “Appa was a foreman at Patel Textiles. He worked there for almost 20 years. But it wasn’t the same in the last few years. The factory started having problems. There were rumors… strange things happening, people going missing.”

Pranav’s ears perked up. “Missing? What do you mean?”

She glanced toward the window, as if checking to make sure no one was listening. “A few workers disappeared. Some said they had left for other jobs, but Appa always said something wasn’t right. He told me once that they had found something in one of the old storage rooms — something that shouldn’t have been there.”

“What did they find?” Pranav asked, his voice tense.

“I don’t know. Appa never told me. He said it was dangerous to talk about it. After that, he started coming home late, looking worried all the time. And then… then the factory shut down.”

Pranav’s mind was racing. This was completely different from what Rajagopal had told him at the office. No mention of disappearances or strange occurrences. There was more to Patel Textiles than just financial troubles. Something dark.

“Why didn’t anyone report this? Why didn’t your father tell the police?” Pranav asked, trying to piece together the puzzle.

She shook her head. “I don’t know. Maybe he was afraid. Maybe he thought no one would believe him. After the closure, everything went downhill. We’ve been struggling ever since, and now with Appa gone…”

Pranav glanced around the small house, seeing the toll poverty had taken on Balan’s family. Though Balan had once been a strong man, years of hardship had worn him down, leaving him frail and vulnerable.

As Pranav stood to leave, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small notebook. “I need to look into your father’s colleagues. Can you help me get their names?”

She nodded, her expression somber. “There’s an old register in his room. I’ll get it for you.”

Pranav waited as she disappeared into the back of the house, returning a few minutes later with a tattered notebook. The names of workers were scrawled across the pages, along with dates and contact information.

“This should help,” Pranav said, tucking the register into his bag. “I’ll find out what happened to your father.”

As he left the house, Pranav couldn’t shake the feeling that he had only scratched the surface of the secrets Patel Textiles held. The CFO’s version of events and Balan’s daughter’s story were worlds apart. The disappearances, the strange discovery at the factory — these were pieces of a much darker puzzle.

Back at the station, Pranav spread out the documents and began analyzing the names from the register, cross-referencing them with any reports of missing persons or unexplained disappearances. Thameem joined him, handing over files from Patel Textiles’ history.

“Sir, the directors might be hiding something,” Thameem said, flipping through the papers. “These old employee records don’t add up with what the CFO told us. There are discrepancies in the timelines.”

Pranav’s suspicion deepened. The riddles, the severed hands, the connection to Patel Textiles — everything was pointing to something far more sinister than a simple factory closure. As he stared at the names on the register, a chill ran down his spine.

There was more to uncover, and he was getting closer. But with each step, the darkness surrounding Patel Textiles grew thicker, pulling him deeper into a mystery that felt more dangerous than ever.

Pranav’s fingers traced the names on the register, his mind racing with possibilities. “We need to pay a visit to the people on this list,” he said, his voice low. “Starting with those who were closest to Balan.”

Thameem nodded, sensing the growing tension in the room.

But as they prepared to dive further into the investigation, Pranav couldn’t shake the feeling that they were being watched. That someone — or something — was always one step ahead of them, guiding them down this dark path for reasons they hadn’t yet understood.

And somewhere, in the shadows of Patel Textiles, the answers waited.

The chapter ends, but the growing sense of unease lingers. Something darker was unfolding, and Pranav was on its trail, though he didn’t yet know just how deep the mystery would take him.