Rumi (রুমি)

Team.

Yes, sir.

Three of you go upstairs.

Move!

Two of you, that way.

Sir.

We found nothing but weed.

Alert all check posts.

Get Bashir's photo.

Circulate it to all police stations immediately.

Yes, sir.

Bastard!

How did he know?

Sir, we found a laptop.

Password protected.

-Esha. -Yes, sir?

How are you?

I'm well, sir.

Found anything on the laptop?

We're trying to recover the data.

But since it's password protected, it'll take some time.

Oh.

This way.

Anyway.

Good to know my hunch was right to some extent.

But if Arian finds out you're helping out

he'll take me off the case.

Arian.

Apparently, Arian is trying to prove...

that drunk driving led to my accident?

He wants to dismiss your case entirely.

Really?

Yes.

Good.

The Keraniganj address you told me about?

I went there.

But I didn't find anything.

Just a school.

Found nothing suspicious.

Hmm.

I heard the department will host

a farewell for me.

How did you know, sir?

I have my sources.

Will you attend it?

Why not?

It's my farewell. How can I not attend?

Are you seriously planning to attend?

"When I chase my desires

My days become restless.

When I sit still

My desires come to me.

Now I know

What I want, wants me too. "

The criminal is an artist.

And the detective is the critic.

A critic points out the flaws in a seemingly perfect art form.

Similarly, a crime might appear to be flawless.

But we detectives

have to play the critic and point out the flaws in the crime.

Khandaker Rumi has been one of the best critics.

Thank you.

Sir.

Officer Rumi.

Please.

-Thank you, sir. -Welcome.

Sir.

This is a talking watch.

Whenever you want to know the time, just ask.

What's the time?

It's 2:30 p. m.

Tariqul.

Tariqul!

Yes?

Pack the books.

Along with the blazer and CIB jacket.

Okay, sir.

Oh!

I see you got a lot of gifts.

We worked together for so long.

I'll really miss you, Rumi.

Thank you, Arian.

So, I've got you a little gift.

What gift? Give me.

Don't be so restless.

Have patience.

I'll unwrap it and give it to you.

Where is it?

Here you go.

What's this?

A miniature.

A CIB officer action figure.

He's wearing a jacket that says CIB.

Most interestingly...

he's wearing glasses.

Tinted glasses.

For the blind.

And he has a cane in his hand.

A cane instead of a gun.

Walking stick for the blind.

So far...

your gun has served you well.

Now you'll need something against your enemies.

So I gave you a cane in place of your gun.

Cane that blind people use.

Sir, this is very insensitive.

Esha.

Arian.

I really like your gift.

Best gift of the day.

Thank you.

Welcome.

Keys... Keys...

I'm in front of my grandfather's house.

It's strange.

The nameplate says "Snigdha".

Why?

Confused, I step inside.

Find a connectivity portal between--

Why are you so late?

Sorry, sir.

Give me an update on the files on the table.

Okay, sir.

Could we trace Bashir's location?

Not yet, sir.

-Here-- -Could we access the laptop data?

Not yet.

But we will.

-Give me an update fast. -Okay, sir.

I think the smoke in your dream...

...signifies intoxication.

Someone related to this case was on drugs, sir.

Who?

The victim or the culprit?

Might be the culprit.

Esha.

My dreams are like riddles.

You can't be entirely sure.

But I like your hypothesis.

Do something.

First investigate the victim.

Check whether

Neha was on drugs or not.

One thing doesn't add up.

-The house I saw in my dream. -Hmm?

It was my grandfather's house.

-The house I currently live in. -Hmm.

You must've noticed something.

The nameplate has my grandmother's name on it.

-Yes, sir. -"Ayesha".

But in my dream...

the nameplate said "Snigdha".

And who are the people in the photos on the walls?

Something else was odd too.

In one of the photos...

I clearly saw my mom.

How is that possible?

Won't you go to office?

No, sir. I'm on leave today.

Oh.

Guess what I'm wearing.

How would I know?

I can't see you.

A saree, as you like it.

Saree?

Even if I can't see you, I can tell...

you look beautiful.

Thank you, sir.

Number does not exist, sir.

Disconnect the call.

-Tariqul. -Sir?

What did we learn from this?

We learnt that some of your relatives have passed away.

-Some have changed phone numbers. -Hmm.

And most don't know you.

Good.

Very good.

How will they know about me?

I haven't been in touch with anyone in years.

Of course, they wouldn't know me.

Sir.

You never mingled with your relatives.

Neither did your mom.

Why are you reaching out to them now?