Fraudster

by RV Raman

Genres: Crime Fiction

Synopsis

There are people who will do anything to silence those who come in their way, who will stop at nothing, including murder. - A young banker is found dead a day after she deposes before a commission investigating large-scale financial fraud - A doyen of corporate India falls to his death from his South Bombay flat - A high-security server room of a multinational accounting firm is hacked, and the hackers aren?t looking for just company secrets Illicit finance, high-stakes crime and vicious manipulation come together in this story of corruption, greed and treachery among corporate India?s black sheep. Arresting, fast-paced and written by an insider from the corporate world, Fraudster will keep you on your toes till the very end. While comparisons to veteran thriller writer John Grisham are inevitable, Raman's writing is more inspired by the older canon of crime writing - The New Indian Express Raman goes the Christie way in this excellent closed-room mystery that keeps us guessing till the very end even when the clues are out in the open - The Statesman RV Raman picks a crime fiction to make a debut and weaves a tight plot and a clear narrative to keep you engrossed - The Hindustan Times Fraudster is an amusing work by first-time author, RV Raman, challenging some of the stereotypes in the genre of thrillers. The way the book is pieced together is remarkable, in that it looks nicely webbed - The New Indian Express If art imitates life, then we all need to be very worried. RV Raman's novel, Fraudster, is an insider's account of the less than salubrious side of the corporate world - Deccan Chronicle

Release date: July 25, 2014

Publisher: Hachette India

Print pages: 268

Sample

FRAUDSTER

RV Raman

First published in 2014 by Hachette India

Registered name Hachette Book Publishing India Pvt. Ltd

An Hachette UK company

www.hachetteindia.com

This ebook published in 2014

Copyright 2014 RV Raman

RV Raman asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work

All rights reserved. No part of the publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system including but not limited to computers, disks, external
drives, electronic or digital devices, ereaders, websites, or transmitted in any form or by any means including but not limited to cyclostyling,
photocopying, docutech or other reprographic reproductions, mechanical, recording, electronic, digital versions without the prior written permission of the
publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition being
imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, or actual events or locales, is purely coincidental.

Print edition ISBN 9789350098004 Ebook edition ISBN 9789350098011

Hachette Book Publishing India Pvt. Ltd, 4th5th Floors, Corporate Centre, Sector 44, Gurgaon 122003, India

Cover design by Siddharth Dasari

Originally typeset in Aldine 401BT 10.5/14

by InoSoft Systems, Noida

Contents

Prologue Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14
Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Chapter 24 Chapter 25 Chapter 26 Chapter 27 Chapter 28
Chapter 29 Chapter 30 Epilogue

Prologue

The girl stepped out into the darkness of Nariman Point and hurried across the empty street. The constant clamour of cars, footfalls and voices was absent
at so late an hour, lending an eerie tinge to the hazy Mumbai night punctuated by yellow pools below streetlights. Towers of concrete and glass, built more
for utility than elegance some glitzy, some drab thrust upwards into the night that shrouded the financial hub of corporate India. Few people were about,
but the man was there once again.

Oh God
She had forgotten all about him. This was the third day he had been waiting for her outside the office.

She had first seen the heavyset man two days ago, skulking about and following her as she went for lunch. He had been there that evening too, talking on his
phone and fingering his black moustache. He had followed her for a short distance as she left for home. Though he had not been as obvious the next day, she
had espied him sitting in the shadow of a paan shop. He was here again today. Why
Panic gripped her already fragile mind, and she all but ran. She turned
right at the next corner, scurried down the length of the dark street and turned left, emerging near Express Towers. The roads were broader at the end of
this street. That should be safer
She threw back a quick glance as she passed the Air India building. The man was following her now, and she could see the
Bluetooth hands-free device blinking on his right ear. Unlike the previous two days, he didnt try to hide today. Instead, he came boldly, his flinty gaze
and set expression sending a shiver down her spine. She continued to run, wondering what the brown paper bag in his hand contained.

Ignoring indignant car horns, she sprinted across Madame Cama Road and hastened along the length of the curved LIC building, staying as close to the
streetlights as possible. She would take a local from Churchgate station, she decided, and change trains at Dadar. Churchgate was closer than VT she would
rather change trains for Ghatkopar than risk walking all the way in the dark to VT.

She was panting by the time she reached Churchgate. Fortunately, a train was at the platform, and she rushed into the first class ladies compartment and
sank into a seat. Restless as she was, she rose once again and stood near the door, wiping her face.

The train began pulling out of Churchgate, and the cool breeze felt good on her face. She thrust her face out of the open door and closed her eyes to
Mumbai. She had
to get a hold on herself. Her thoughts went back to the meeting three weeks ago, when it had all began, when the MD of the bank where she
worked had summoned her.

The property loan to Blue Gem Limited, the MD had snapped in front of a packed room, what was the value of the property they bought

Around 300 crores, sir, she had replied crisply.

How did you establish that

From the valuation certificate.

You took it at face value The faces in the room were humourless.

Yes, sir. It was from an independent valuer.

Did you cross-check the value

No, sir. I...I got the impression that it was not necessary...and there was no time. Cross-checking would have taken at least ten days

Did anyone tell you not to cross-check

Not in as many words, sir. The practice is to check only if we doubt the certificate.

Is that what the banks procedure manual says

She had remained silent what was written and what was practised were seldom the same.

The property was worth no more than 70 crores, the MD had concluded. We wont get even 50 today.

How they had nailed her First, they had framed her. Then, the commission had indicted her. Now, they had fired her Her humiliation was complete. The

bastards May they burn in hell
Tears of frustration stung her eyes as her mind grappled with the burgeoning spectre of humiliation. Finding herself at
others mercy, her habitual equanimity deserted her. How would she tell her aged father, a rock of old-school values amid rising waters of decadence

With an effort, she pulled herself together. She could restart her career somewhere else, far from greed and betrayal her father would understand. Her mind
flew homewards to Agra. Minutes passed.

Her eyes abruptly snapped open Dadar was a minute away. She decided to get off before the train came to a halt and go across quickly to the central line
platforms. She leapt off the moving train at Dadar, as many Mumbaikars do, stumbled, regained her balance and sprinted to the stairway leading to the
overbridge. She climbed two steps at a time and looked back once she reached the top. The man her pursuer was climbing the stairs behind her Oh God, he had

taken the train too
Oblivious to stares, she now ran the length of the overbridge and sped down another stairway.

Damn
The platform was empty. The digital clock showed that the next train was due in two minutes. At the spot where the ladies compartment would stop were
two khaki-clad women, comfortingly hefty. Teary-eyed and panting, she halted behind them, letting their bulky bodies partially shield her from her pursuer.
Fear showed plainly on her face. The two women stared at her curiously, then followed her fearful gaze to her pursuer and drew the obvious conclusion.

The heftier of the two women turned and glared at the man, while the shorter one took a protective position near her. Dont worry, she said, as the man
hesitated and stopped fifty feet away. Come with us. Where are you going

Ghatkopar.

Two minutes later, the three women were standing by the door of a near-empty compartment. A few women slept inside. The girl contemplated her next move. She
would be on her own again once the train reached Ghatkopar. She had to outwit her pursuer he would be somewhere on the train. What if she alighted at Kurla
and took an auto-rickshaw home The man would be expecting her to get off at Ghatkopar. If she jumped off the train just as it was leaving Kurla, she may get
away.

She inched closer to the door of the speeding train, the two women behind her. She held the door with her right hand while the left clutched her handbag.
They rattled past Sion station, and she watched the speeding lights through the door, mentally preparing herself for flight once more. Kurla was two minutes
away.

Suddenly, a khaki-clad hand swept down from above and wrenched her hand off the door. Almost simultaneously, the other woman pushed her from behind. As she
fell forward, a foot tripped her.

Surprise and fear prevented her from screaming as she fell into the void. A blaze of pain erupted as she hit the adjacent train track. Something tore into
her chest and her hip. A second later, a train from the opposite direction loomed over her. The last thing she heard was the deafening screech of metal
against metal as the massive locomotive struggled to come to a halt.

Then, darkness erupted.

Chapter 1

R.C. Visht, chairman of First Line Credit Bank, was a worried man despite him retiring in less than three weeks. The reason for his uneasiness lay on his
desk the banks internal loan portfolio report seemed too clean, almost sanitized.

He punched a button on his speakerphone and called his secretary.

Kannan, when did I commission CBS to examine our loan portfolio he asked.

Visht had asked CBS & Co., one of the Big Five global accounting firms, to look into a sample of the loans the bank had given.

Just after New Year, sir. Do you want the exact date

No... When is their draft report due

Next week, sir. We havent fixed a date yet.

Okay. See if I can speak to Mr Subramaniam now.

K. Subramaniam, called Subbu by most, was a senior partner at CBS and the head of their substantial audit practice.

Yes, sir.

Visht hung up and returned to the internal report. For months, all the risk reports generated by the bank had been clean. Yet, loan defaults were rising.
Now, hardly a week passed without an unpleasant surprise hitting him. Something was seriously wrong. Risk reports needed to highlight potential defaults

before
they occurred.

His phone buzzed discreetly.

Subbu, Visht said straightaway, whats the status of the portfolio audit

Almost done. The team is finalizing the report. What are the findings

Youll have it in a couple of days, Visht. They are still crosschecking their conclusions.

Subbu, off the record, how does it look They were close friends from their college days, and Visht implicitly trusted him. I know youve seen only the
initial findings, but give me the gist. How bad is it

He heard Subbu take a deep breath. Off the record, Visht...it stinks.

That bad

Worse.

Okay. Lets schedule a preliminary presentation for early next week.

Done.

Once he put down the phone, Visht went to the window and gazed out into the descending dusk. His career, one that spanned thirty-seven years and was
considered illustrious by some, would end on the last day of the month. He had safely guided the banks he had led through bouts of economic turbulence,
political pressure on public sector banks, unbridled greed in the financial sector and a slew of other moral hazards. Yet now, in the twilight of his
career, was he being blind-sided

Not if he could help it. He still had two and a half weeks left. CBSs work would help him.

He returned to his desk and began wrapping up for the day when Kannan came in and placed a copy of Mid Day
on his desk. A photograph of a familiar face on
the front page caught his eye.

Accident or Suicide Email reveals girl was fired the day she died, the headline proclaimed beside the photograph of the young woman. Visht picked up the
newspaper and began reading

Accident or Suicide Email reveals girl was fired the day she died

Mumbai
Investigations into the death of 26-year-old Shruti Mathur have revealed that the young woman, who died after falling off a moving train between Sion
and Kurla stations on Friday, the 3rd of February, had been fired by her employer, Devalkar Bank, an hour before her death. A printout of the termination
email, a copy of which is with Mid Day,
indicated that the bank had terminated her employment just an hour before her time of death.

We are shocked to hear of Shrutis death, said Sheela Jadeja, an HR executive at the bank. As of now, we have nothing to suggest that her death was linked to
her termination.

The police are yet to confirm whether Shrutis death was an accident or a suicide, but sources suggest that the email could have led her to contemplate the
latter. Two women, who were in the same compartment as Shruti and had reported the incident to the Police at Kurla station, said they had seen her crying
when she boarded the train at Dadar. The whole compartment was empty, yet she chose to stand at the door. She seemed to be distraught, one of the two women,
who wished to remain unnamed, told Mid Day.
Visht grew increasingly perturbed as he read the news. He dropped the newspaper and returned to the window.

Shruti dead
He couldnt believe it. He had seen the girl three days before her death, when she had seemed full of life, yet consumed by grief.

His mind went back to the day she had deposed before the commission. A dozen banks had together lost thousands of crores over the past three years. After
representations from the affected banks and the Reserve Bank of India, an inquiry commission had been set up to investigate the affair.

A judge par excellence
and incorruptible even in the face of death threats, Justice Nokhar had been the obvious choice to head the commission. Dr Hegdes
name had virtually suggested itself as an acknowledged expert on financial legislation and as the erstwhile chairman of ZARA Foundation, a reputable NGO
that helped farmers fight land sharks and get a fair price for the lands they sold. The Finance Secretary had insisted on Visht, whom he considered a doyen
of the countrys financial circles.

The commission had started its work from a temporary office in one of Nariman Points ubiquitous towers. Shruti was the twelfth person from her bank to
depose in the windowless, plywoodpanelled hearing chamber. In the gruelling two hours of her deposition, she had laid bare every little detail of the Blue
Gem loan and her work. She had seemed small and crushed to Visht, but Justice Nokhar had been unmoved.

Your plea that you werent negligent doesnt hold water, Ms Mathur, Nokhar had said at the end of her deposition. Not when your banks procedures clearly
required you to verify the value of the property.

The retired judge removed his glasses and laid them on the desk, rubbing his eyes. His stern face had softened for the first time as he gazed at the broken
young woman in front of him.

However, he continued, this commission has more flexibility than a court of law. There is no dispute on the facts of the case you accept that you did not
verify the property value. That led the bank to sanction a loan that was far in excess of the true value of the property. What you refer to now is a matter
of intent. Is there anything you wish to place before us to support your stand

Shrutis eyes flashed in anger. She opened her mouth to speak, but stopped as tears sprang to her eyes and her face disintegrated into a picture of turmoil.
Her hand flew to her mouth as she fought back tears.

The middleaged woman sitting beside Shruti intervened. Nokhars one accommodation had been to allow the older woman Shrutis friend and legal advisor to be
present during the deposition.

Can we get a ten minute recess, Mr Chairman she asked. For Ms Mathur to pull herself together

Nokhar glanced at the clock and nodded.

Ten minutes, no more. We resume at 5.15 p.m. We must conclude this today and I dont want to go beyond 5.30 p.m.

The older woman shepherded Shruti into an adjoining cabin as the three men returned to their rooms. Vishts room was next to the cabin the two women were in,
and as soon as he entered, he overheard the older woman say, What were you going to say

He hesitated for a moment as he closed the door. The laminated plywood partition was too thin to muffle their voices.

What were you going to say the woman repeated.

I want to nail the bastard Let the world know the scum that he is. He played with my feelings. He...even...proposed to me.

Softly The older woman shushed her. Are you sure you want to tell the commission about him

Visht remained frozen in his spot next to a chair, undecided whether to sit or not. He decided to keep standing, lest the creaking of the chair alerted the
two women. It had been evident from Shrutis deposition that there was more to the case than the two had let on. Visht decided to eavesdrop.

Why not Shrutis voice was softer now. Let him sink with me. He deserves it

Listen to me, Shruti. The commission will find you guilty for sure. What remains is the question of intent your
intent

So

Dont you get it They believe you were negligent, and didnt do it on purpose. Bring him into this, and your personal intent is established. If you say that
he talked you into skipping the verification, they will suspect that you did it on purpose. For him
They will then probe collusion and fraud. You could go
to jail

No

Yes Dont screw it up now. Nokhar wants to end it by 5.30. They will pass a verdict of negligence of duty.

Then the snake will go free Shruti was indignant.

I know. Look at it from your point of view. Do you want to be labelled a fraudster and be sent to jail, and
have your name splashed all over newspapers Isnt
it better to be reprimanded for negligence and let off I will ensure that the press is kind to you. You are going to lose your job anyway. Besides, you have
no proof of his involvement. The older woman had been calm, but the firmness in her voice was unmistakable.

Its not fair

It isnt. We are dealing with laws here, not fairness. You must look after your own interests. Cut your losses and restart your career.

Vishts mind was racing, even as Shruti began crying. Minutes passed in silence, before a knock sounded.

Im okay now. Lets be done with it. Shruti sounded resigned.

Visht waited for a few more moments as he considered what he had overheard. His instincts had been right. A nave young woman had been deceived, and the
commission had targeted the wrong person. He became uncharacteristically angry as he returned to his seat. The others had already taken theirs, as had
Shruti, now a shadow of her former self.

Well Nokhar asked. Is there anything you wish to add, Ms Mathur

Shruti took a deep breath before replying, No, sir. All I can say is that I did it in good faith, and in the face of an impending deadline. I had no reason
to doubt the valuation certificate. In hindsight, however, I regret not verifying it. That, sir, is the extent of my error. If anybody has gained from it,
it is not me. The only thing I have is my pride. I made a mistake, and a serious one. But please dont ruin my career for it, sir.

Vishts eyes ran down a sheet of paper in front of him a summary of Shrutis assets the investigators had prepared. She had one bank account, from which she
had systematically invested 5,000 rupees every month into each of the three mutual funds. Her savings stood at a little under 5 lakhs after working for
three years. She had no other declared assets. He looked up to see her gazing at them with pleading eyes.

Nokhar sat back with the look of someone who had completed his task. Visht leaned forward towards Shruti.

Is there nothing more you can say in your defence he asked in his customary softspoken manner. No mitigating circumstances that made you do what you did

Shruti looked at him in surprise. Her eyes grew wide and she hesitated for a moment before dropping her gaze and shaking her head.

No, sir. It was an honest mistake. All I ask for is a second chance.

A lengthy silence followed. Shruti did not look up.

We have often seen the wrong side of human nature, Ms Mathur. We understand the realities of handling large amounts of public money, and the pressures that
brings upon vulnerable young people. We are flexible too, as Justice Nokhar said. You must speak when you have the chance. Help us help you.

Indecision twisted her face. Finally, she shook her head, still not looking up. Thank you, sir. I have nothing more to add.

Visht sat back in sadness. He had tried to help her to the extent he could. He now let it pass, and nodded to Nokhar. The retired judge took over.

Very well then. Thank you, Ms Mathur.

Vishts eyes followed the shattered young woman as she left the room, even as he began to feel sorrow and anger clouding his mind.

Shruti turned at the door and met his eyes. Desperation was writ large on her face. Her eyes brimmed and lips trembled. She looked like a trapped doe. The
older woman stepped forward and shut the door. Visht dragged his attention back to the two men with him.

The facts are clear, Nokhar was saying. She did not verify the value of the property. She did not perform her duty, tight deadline or not. However, there is
nothing to suggest that she did it on purpose. Nor is there evidence of a windfall.

Establishing intent within the framework of our laws is difficult at the best of times, Hegde said. We dont succeed even in one out of fifty cases.
Negligence of duty, I would say.

The two older men turned to Visht, who remained silent. He didnt allow Nokhar to hurry him, 5.30 p.m. deadline or not. He began contemplating the situation.
On one hand, he could speak of what he had overheard. On the other, he would be within the guidelines of the commission if he chose not to. The commission
had to go by what had been placed before it and verifiable. Hearsay did not count.

Natural justice was supreme in Vishts mind, as long as it did not violate the laws of the land of the two, it was the Greater God. Wasnt Shruti more likely
a victim than an offender Natural justice would be better served by letting things be. Given Nokhars blinkered view of justice, bringing up the overheard
conversation would only cause more injustice. The older woman had been pragmatic in stopping Shruti. Visht turned to Nokhar.

I agree with Dr Hegde that it is negligence from a legal standpoint. However, I suspect that someone pressurized her to skip the verification. Determining
real estate values particularly outside cities is a laborious affair, and Ms Mathur may not have had the time.

Hegde nodded. The depositions point to her supervisor mounting pressure on her to complete her part in haste

Perhaps, Nokhar cut in, but that doesnt alter the fact that it was she
who skipped the verification process.

There is another matter we must consider, Visht continued Not all bankers are as careful with public money as they should be. Devalkar Bank is not known for
prudence. To lay the blame wholly on a junior employee would be unfair. The cavalier attitude of the banks management is more to blame than she is.

Please list your points in a note, Mr Visht, Nokhar said, closing his file and glancing at the clock. Vishts appeal had been water off a ducks back.

Negligence of duty will be too harsh, Justice Nokhar, Visht tried to insist one last time. It would not be right to penalize her for the sins of her
employer. Justice will not be served.

The law is the law, Mr Visht. Neither you nor I can change it. But you are free to write a dissenting note.

Visht looked at Hegde for support, but the older man could only shrug his shoulders. I feel sorry for the young lady, he said, but Justice Nokhar is
technically correct. Our role is to interpret the law, not to dispense justice.

Nokhar frowned at Hegde, but said nothing. He then looked up at the clock and nodded. The time was 5.33 p.m.

Negligence of duty, it is, Nokhar concluded. I will add Mr Vishts note to our conclusion.

Visht shook away his reverie to find guilt clawing at his conscience. Did the deposition have anything to do with Shrutis death Would Shruti be alive today

if I had spoken of the overheard conversation
He was not sure. She had hidden ...