The Name on the Card
A meeting at Brime Cafe that quickly turned into something far more dangerous
I stood beside my car in the hospital parking lot, staring at the boxes of medicines on the back seat. Somehow, after hours of running between pharmacies, I had managed to gather most of what the doctor had prescribed. My head throbbed with numbers I could no longer afford to calculate.
My phone rang.
“Can we meet in ten minutes?” The voice on the other end sounded tense.
I checked the number. Unknown caller.
“I am sorry. I think you have the wrong number.”
I was about to hang up when he said, “Nick, right?”
I paused for a second.
“Who is this?”
“It’s Anubhav. I need your help urgently. Meet me in the Brime Cafe in five minutes,” he hung up before I could ask him further.
Brime Cafe? That’s just behind my house.
A strange thought crept into my mind. How did this man know a place so close to where I lived?
I checked my phone book for someone named Anubhav, but found no one.
Is it a fake number? Is it a scammer? Or worse… someone sent by Anand?
My mind kept creating questions I had no answers for.
I checked my watch. It was 5 PM. I stood there, thinking about what I should do. Should I call a friend for backup, just in case? Should I ignore it and leave?
If it were someone from Anand, ignoring the call might make things worse.
Before I could decide, my phone pinged with a message. “I have reached Brime Cafe. Waiting for you.”
I looked again at the medicines filling my car.
Just then, my phone vibrated again. I glanced at the screen, expecting to see that unknown number.
It was not Anubhav.
***
I decided to meet this stranger, Anubhav. What unsettled me most was that Brime Cafe was just behind my house. Did he know where I lived? Was he sent by someone to track me down? I tried to recall if I had met anyone named Anubhav recently, but nothing came to mind.
Just to be safe, I parked my car at a friend’s place and borrowed his car to meet the stranger.
During the short drive, my mind kept circling the same thought. What if Anubhav was connected to the man I had been avoiding all week? The possibility sent chills down my spine. If that were true, I could be in serious trouble. And if he knew about Brime Cafe, perhaps he knew more about me than I realized. The only way to find out was to meet him.
I parked a little distance away and watched the café from inside the car. The blue glow of the Brime Cafe sign washed over the entrance. A few young boys stood outside, smoking and laughing, further shortening their already short time on earth.
I scanned every car parked near the café, checking its number one by one. None of them belonged to Mr. Anand, the man I was trying to avoid.
The café looked brighter against the dark evening sky. Its modern, expensive vibe always attracted the richest crowd in the area. I had been here many times before, yet that evening it felt strangely unfamiliar.
My legs felt shaky. My fingers tapped nervously on the steering wheel as my mind tried to decide my next move.
Just then, a loud knock hit my car window.
***
The security guard had warned me before not to park near the doctor’s clinic, a few spots beside Brime Cafe. I assured him again, but parked nearby anyway—just in case I had to leave in a hurry.
I had never been more aware of my surroundings than when I walked toward the café. My eyes kept scanning every face, searching for someone familiar.
Inside, I spotted a slightly bulky man in formals sitting alone at a table. I wondered if it was Anubhav.
Just then he picked up his phone, and my phone rang.
He noticed me standing there and waved.
I walked toward him, the fear inside me slowly turning into a sweat on my forehead.
“Nick, right?” he said, stretching his hand forward.
I shook it, but my eyes and ears kept scanning the café.
“What would you like to have?” he asked with a smile, sliding the menu card toward me.
“Nothing,” I blurted. “Just tell me what you want, and we’ll leave.”
Anubhav squeezed my shoulder lightly and tapped it as if to reassure me. Then he signaled the barista. “One more coffee for Sir.”
He excused himself to take a call.
My mind immediately jumped to the worst possibility — Anand. Maybe Anubhav was calling him, asking what to do next. The thought sent a fresh wave of fear through me.
I stood up to leave.
But Anubhav noticed and gently pulled me back. “Have some water,” he said, handing me a glass from the table. “I know you are tense. Just relax a bit.”
I looked at him, noticing every detail on his face. His thick eyebrows, his wide nose, the freckles on his face. Every detail confirming his identity in my mind.
He smiled and tried to look friendly. But my mind refused to believe it. Something about that calmness felt rehearsed—like a man pretending not to know exactly why he was there.
Just then, the barista placed the coffee on our table.
My phone pinged. I cut it.
It pinged again. This time it was Mr. Anand. The name on the screen nearly made me choke.
Anubhav noticed me staring at the phone. I looked up at him.
He was watching me quietly.
My phone pinged again. Anand again.
I was about to silence the call when Anubhav said, “I think you should take it. Must be important.”
I looked at him.
He smiled. But this time, he didn’t look friendly.
***
I stepped out of the café to take the call. The noise inside was loud enough to drown out anyone on the phone.
I had parked my car just a few steps away. I instinctively reached for my car keys.
They weren’t in my pocket.
I turned back toward the table.
The keys were still lying there.
Through the glass wall of the café, I saw Anubhav pick them up and begin playing with them casually.
A chill ran down my spine.
I was already regretting my decision to meet him. Now I was almost certain Anand had sent him.
My phone rang again. This time I had no choice but to answer.
“How long are you going to avoid me?” Anand’s voice sounded stern, as if he might appear at any moment and slap me across the face.
But now, with Anubhav sitting inside, it felt like Anand already had someone to do that for him.
“I… I’m not trying to avoid you,” I said.
“Oh, really?” Anand chuckled. “How many of my calls have you picked up today?”
“Look, I’m sorry. I was busy arranging your money. I had even arranged some of it, but—”
“But you wasted it buying truckloads of medicines,” Anand’s voice grew sharper.
I swallowed.
Was Anand following me now?
I glanced back at the café.
Anubhav was still there, calmly sipping his coffee while playing with my car keys.
“So now you’re following me?” I said. “You don’t trust me? I gave my word that I’ll return your money by tomorrow.”
The frustration inside me was rising fast. I desperately wanted to get rid of the loan Anand had given me for my business a year ago.
My business had been struggling, and I needed money to save it. A friend had suggested borrowing from Anand—a local moneylender who asked for no collateral, just a promise to return double the amount. At first, Anand denied but later succumbed to the pressure of a friend.
At that time, I was confident that my business would recover.
But the economy was growing slowly. The business survived but didn’t have enough cash for me to return the money. And whatever money I had left was now going toward my father’s heart surgery.
I pulled out my handkerchief and wiped the sweat from my forehead.
“Just pray I don’t meet you and your friend from the Income Tax.” He paused. “Because I will kill you both,” Anand breathed so heavily that I could hear the wind through the phone. “And don’t even think of running away. ”
“How can I run away when my father is lying in the hospital? I am trying. There’s still one more day left. I’m arranging funds. So stop troubling me by sending your men behind me.”
“What men?” There was confusion in Anand’s voice.
“Oh, really?” I said. “You didn’t send Anubhav?”
“Anubhav?” His voice carried genuine confusion. “I’m not a goon who sends people after borrowers,” he chuckled. Then he laughed. “But you have twenty-four hours.”
The call ended.
I stood there staring at my phone, wondering how I would arrange the money in just a day.
I knew Anand was more dangerous than he sounded. Men like him didn’t survive long without powerful backing.
For a moment, I thought of running away to some distant city.
But how could I leave my family when they needed me the most?
I turned back toward the café and found Anubhav sitting where I had left him.
Was he really not Anand’s man?
Or was Anand lying?
And if he wasn’t…then who exactly was he?
Anubhav noticed me looking at him.
He lifted the car keys above his head and gestured for me to come back inside.
***
“Give me the keys,” I said, holding out my palm.
“Sit for two minutes,” he said with a smile, gently guiding me back to the chair. “I need your help.”
My mind was still racing with possibilities, so I barely listened to what he was saying.
“Please help me. I’ll be in serious trouble if you don’t,” he said, joining his hands.
This made little sense. None of Anand’s men would ask for help. Not like this.
“Tell me,” I said, straightening in the chair. “What is it?”
Anubhav glanced around, then leaned closer. “I need you to keep some money for a while,” he whispered.
He pulled a bag from under the table and placed it near me. “My informant told me the income tax department is raiding my jewellery shop tomorrow. If they find this cash, I’ll be in deep trouble.”
I slightly opened the bag. It was full of cash. More money than I had ever seen at one time. My hand instinctively went to my wallet, as if to remind myself how empty it was.
“Who gave you my number?” I asked.
Anubhav leaned towards me. “A friend, Ketan, who works in income tax,” he whispered and squeezed my hand. “Look, please help me. I paid Ketan and I’ll pay you too. Ketan told me about your commission. I’ll pay double.”
I raised my hand to stop him.
My eyes wandered around the café. Young boys and girls were placing their orders. Others were lost in their phones. No one I recognized.
“Please,” Anubhav said again. “Ketan called me today to tell me about the raid. He told me I could trust you. Just keep the money for a day. I’ll collect it tomorrow at the same time.”
He stood up without waiting for my answer.
We walked toward the parking lot. He opened the door of my car and placed the suitcase inside.
“Thank you,” he said, extending his hand.
I shook it.
He turned toward his car.
“Hey,” I called out. “Do you want to meet at my place tomorrow?”
For a moment I watched him, still unsure if he was one of Anand’s men.
“I don’t know where you stay, man. This place is better.”
There was no hesitation in his voice. No calculation in his eyes.
I smiled.
“But getting a table here on weekends is difficult,” I said with a shrug. “Unless we book it beforehand.”
Anubhav nodded and pulled out his phone. “ I’ll book it on the way and text you the confirmation,”
He winked, reversed his car, and drove.
I watched his car disappear into the traffic.
I pulled my phone and called my friend from the income tax department. “ Anand is still looking for Ketan.”
Ketan chuckled. “ I hope he finds someone by that name.”
“Time for a new name,” I said.
Ketan chuckled and then paused. “ By the way, you have not been picking my calls. I hope Anubhav called you.”
“ Yes,” I said. “ He just left the bag of cash with me.,”
Ketan paused. “ How did you recognise him?
“ Well.. I figured,” I turned to look at Anubhav’s car speeding away. I hung up the phone.
My phone pinged. It was Anubhav’s text “I’ve booked a table in the name of Anubhav and Nick. Please carry your ID card. I hope you have it.”
“ Yes,” I replied.
I pulled my ID card out of my wallet. The plastic card caught the glow of the café lights.
My eyes rested on the name printed on the card.
Not Nick.
Ken Jones.
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