As they began "seizing" stacks of unaccounted cash and gold biscuits, the Minister’s wife pleaded, "Please, we can settle this. Don't take it to the bureau."

Two hours later, the real CBI arrived. The Minister’s wife greeted them with a smile. "You're back early. Did you forget more files?"

Arjun sighed, looking like a man burdened by integrity. "Ma'am, the law is the law. But... we can record a smaller amount in the official ledger to save your husband’s reputation."

The doorbell of the Minister’s mansion didn't just ring; it announced authority. When the heavy oak doors swung open, four men stood there in crisp safari suits, clutching leather briefcases.

"Found it," whispered Khan, moving a heavy bookshelf to reveal a steel door.

The household fell into a panicked silence. Inside, the "officers" acted with practiced clinical coldness. They gathered the family in the living room, confiscated their phones, and began tapping on the walls of the study. Arjun, the leader, watched his watch. They had exactly forty minutes before the local police—whom they had "notified" as part of the ruse—would grow curious.

The lead investigator frowned. "Back? Ma'am, we just got the tip-off ten minutes ago."