Showing posts with label Crime. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Crime. Show all posts

Friday, 20 November 2020

Inspector Murthy Unmasks An Offender

     After Inspector Murthy's retirement, he had increased his daily quota of walking. In addition to his daily morning walks in the forest near his house, he had started taking post-prandial walks in the late evening. However, as a result of the pandemic, the forest department had shut its doors on people who wanted to walk in the forest. The Inspector could have easily wrangled out a permission, but he did not like taking advantage of his position, unlike many of his colleagues. So he had started walking on the footpaths beside the main roads near his house. 

     The pandemic had thrown a spanner into many businesses, both proposed and running. A gym, all ready to be inaugurated on the first floor of a brand new building in the layout, had gone into hibernation as the government had, among other things, banned running of gyms till further notice. The slumber had come to an end when the ban had been lifted, but prospective customers were wary. Every morning at 6, a couple of trainers used to open up the place and switched on all the lights. It gave a feeling of warmth to the minds of the pedestrians who walked in the chilly October mornings. 

     But, as any of them could easily see through the large glass "walls", not a foot stepped on to the treadmills, cross-trainers or other contraptions arranged facing the road. It looked like people were as wary of empty gyms as they were of crowded ones. The Inspector himself had felt that it would have made better advertisement if the trainers themselves had used the machines. But the trainers had other ideas. 

     They put up a table on the footpath and started distributing pamphlets offering substantial discounts on their 'regular' charges. They also put up a huge flex banner which announced the opening of the gym on the first of October. The date was borne on a patch pasted on to the now covered up date of 1st March, the original scheduled date. They also ended up blocking a substantial part of the footpath causing inconvenience to the regular walkers. Late in the evening, the table was locked up, but the banner continued to be on the footpath. 

 **

     That situation had changed this morning. Regulars were greeted by the burnt remains of the banner. While the synthetic parts of the banner had practically disappeared into thin air, the scorched and distorted metal tubes that had supported the banner adorned the footpath.  A mangled metal sculpture greeted the trainers when they arrived. They called up the manager immediately and reported their findings.

      The manager arrived on site at around 8 a.m. and examined the corpus in situ.  Fancying his powers of observation and detection, he attempted to unravel the crime, He could have found out the perpetrator had the owner had not skimped on investing money for CCTV. To save money, he had covered only the insides of the gym and not the exterior. The scene of the crime yielded nothing to him. Not even the phone number of the owner which had been put on the now non-existent banner, though the manager did not really need it.  But he had to wait a couple of hours before calling up the owner who had specifically forbidden him to call before 10.

**

        As advised by the owner, the manager went to the local police station to lodge a complaint. After some delay, he was ushered into the large hall where the duty officer was seated at his desk. He narrated his findings and communicated his master's desire to lodge a complaint. The duty officer was a bit wary of such complaints. They only added to the list of unsolved complaints and spoilt his performance records.  He was sure he would not find anything of value in the form of evidence. Even if he had found a matchstick or two, after the local walkers had stomped all over the scene of the crime, there was no way to link it to anyone.  He knew that teachers from a nearby coaching centre usually had a smoke or two between classes in that very corner.

        Attack is the best form of defense, the officer knew, so he questioned the manager. 

     "What does your CCTV show?" he enquired, knowing very well that such a thing did not exist in the gym.  

     The manager sheepishly admitted that the CCTV did not cover the footpath. 

     The officer pressed forth the advantage he had, saying, "I had clearly asked you to cover that area too. And why were you encroaching the footpath? "

    The manager knew he was beaten and required reinforcements. He called up the owner of the gym and informed him of the officer's reluctance to file a report. The owner, who was a locally influential person, pulled some strings and the telephone on the officer's desk rang within five minutes.

    The Assistant Commissioner, who was on the line, instructed the duty officer to take the complaint.
Cornered, the officer accepted the letter from the gym manager and registered a complaint against "unknown offenders".

      In order to vent his frustration, he muttered rather loudly, "Be happy with the acknowledgement of your complaint! Nothing will be achieved in this case. Not a shred of evidence will be there to identify offender."

     He continued his tirade, in a semi-humourous way, saying, "Everyone wears a mask these days. How shall I be able to unmask the real offender?"

      There was a cackle from the corner of his room, where his ex-boss was sitting. Pushing his mask down from his mouth, Inspector Murthy, with a smile on his face, said, "I am sure the offender will be unmasked. Go and look. I am sure you will find some evidence. "

Then sub-consciously, the retired officer, touched his right pant pocket. He was reassured to find the lighter he had used to burn the banner nestling safely in it. He smiled inwardly, congratulating himself on his matchless performance. He told himself that the duty officer could play to any extent with any matchsticks he found. 

     He had made it a habit to visit the station every day after retirement and chat up his protégé, as it also afforded him a peek into the goings on in the neighbourhood. There was only so much a policeman in service could do. It was a different story after retirement... 

***


Copyright notice: The contents of this blog may not be used in any form without the express written consent of the blog owner, who may be contacted at kishoremrao@hotmail.com

Monday, 9 September 2019

Digital Crime



Assistant Commissioner of Police Pinakini smiled. Inspector Murthy from the Anti-Corruption Bureau had just been ushered into her office. She had gathered that he was not the type to curry favour with his seniors and hence had remained an inspector even after several years of service.  She had met him earlier at some departmental meetings and parties. He had once been a hot-shot detective with the Crime Branch, but had been having a pretty bad success rate of late and had hence been transferred out to the ACB. She also felt that he had been shunted to the ACB because corrupt politicians and bureaucrats liked to have either inefficient or corrupt police officers there, so that cases never reached court. She knew that Inspector Murthy had a reputation of being clean. So it was the former reason, she deduced.

ACP Pinakini had been aptly named by her parents, who had lovingly called her Pinky, referring to  her complexion. Pinakini means 'bow shaped'. No, she did not have bow legs. But her entire demeanour was that of a bow with its string drawn taut. She appeared to be ready to shoot anytime. She was sure the doddering middle aged Inspector, though not corrupt in the monetary sense, would be bowled over by her charm. She was sure he knew that she was single. She also knew he was single, and hopefully susceptible.

She did not worry about being the subject of the ACB's investigation. She had a clear conscience with respect to corruption. She knew with absolute certainty that she was not corrupt. The ACB would not be able to pin anything on her. They were probably working on the complaint of some disgruntled person on whose toes she might have trod.

Her present position in the department included various tasks including assisting the Deputy Inspector General, who too was a woman, and an ex-officio member of the State Women's Council. The SWC handled complaints about ill-treatment and harassment of women in workplaces and families.  It was her dream job, because she got the opportunity of ensuring retribution on erring men. She had seen plenty of such men and despised them.

Inspector Murthy greeted her, as he entered, "Good morning, Madam."

She smiled again. She had got used to older male colleagues not saluting her though she was technically senior to them. She had objected to it initially, but seemed to have taken it in her stride, though deep down she still resented it.

"Please be seated, Inspector," she said, subtly reminding him of his rank.

"What brings you here?" she asked, adding, " I am sure you know that I, like you, am equally averse to bribery."

"Yes, Madam," he agreed. He continued, "But some of our colleagues have brought such a reputation for the force that the public believes otherwise."

Pulling out a sheet of paper, he added, "But the ACB is bound to investigate complaints received by it. I will be honest with you. Some influential person seems to have been aggrieved at something you have done and has lodged a complaint. We have received a telephone call from the Home Minister himself, asking for immediate action. I have the duty of searching your office, bank lockers and residence. Here's the search warrant, signed by the magistrate."

"My men are waiting outside and will forthwith search the premises. After that I request you to accompany me to your residence for further action," he continued.

"What a cheesy pick up line!", she thought.

As she had foreseen, the search at her office yielded nothing. They next drove to her residence, Inspector Murthy recalled a meeting he had had with the DIG a few months back when he was still in the Crime Branch.

**

"Of late the number of untraced missing persons has shot up," the DIG had told Inspector Murthy. "We need to solve these cases early," he had added.

The Inspector had replied that he had studied the profiles of several missing persons and disclosed what he had found common between many of them. The DIG concurred with him. 

"This is a very sensitive matter, " his boss had commented, saying, "We need to be very careful in handling it."

"Do you have a plan?" he had enquired.

Inspector Murthy said, "To handle this and succeed I need to be shifted out from the Crime Branch for some time. As you know, I have been training my subordinates in their endeavours to solve cases and let them take the credit, without coming into the picture myself. You can cite my inefficiency in solving cases and say that I am incapable of handling cases myself. You can then make my transfer. We need to build a reputation that I am past solving mysteries."

                                                                              **

As they reached the ACP's quarters, he asked his team to wait there and asked her to fetch the locker key. Then they drove to the bank. As she opened the locker for him, she said, "Inspector, you are free to have a look. As you will see, there's no cash here and all the jewellery that you will find is pretty old. You will not find any significant cash or jewellery at home too." She explained, "I have never found the need for jewellery to adorn me."

He had no other course of action than to agree to her statement.

They returned to her residence.

                                                                              **

As she admitted him and his team to her house, she teasingly told him, "I request that your team can search the remaining part of the house, except my bedroom. I think only you will be sufficient to carry out the search there."

Maintaining a stoic face, he had nodded consent. As required, a woman constable was present in the room, but the ACP had asked her to be seated and let the Inspector do his work. Pinakini had kept a close watch on him as he rifled through the contents of the room. She was amused by his seemingly unperturbed demeanour as he ran through her garments in the closet. He did not find any substantial material, especially amongst the lingerie.  She was playing Despacito on loop on her mobile. As the song reached the liness Quiero respirar tu cuello despacito, Deja que te diga cosas al oido,  she gave voice to the words in a husky voice just loud enough for him to hear. 

Then she asked him, "You know what that means, right? I read somewhere that you know quite a bit of Spanish."

He merely nodded, knowing very well that the first part meant "I want to breathe on your neck slowly", thinking to himself, Let me get one bit of evidence, I shall be breathing down your neck, in a way you would not appreciate. It had taken a lot of will power to control his reaction. The second part meant Let me whisper things in your ear  it reminded him of a Hindi song that went Raat Akeli Hai, Bujh Gaye Diye, Aake Mere Paas, Kaanon Mein Mere, Jo Bhi Chaahe Kahiye. He hoped that she did not voice the more explicit lines of the song which were to follow a little later. Though he liked the music of the song, he knew the Spanish lyrics were too scandalous for his taste. It could have got embarrassing if she continued, he felt.

He wondered how she knew so much about him, as his knowledge of Spanish was not widely known. He suspected that she had probably dug into his past to find out more about him, when he was handling the cases of the missing young men in Crime Branch, not out of romantic interest, but to trap him if the need arose.

He then turned to the dressing table which had a number of boxes of lipsticks and nail polishes of various hues and other cosmetic material usually found on such tables. He knew she used none of these when on duty. He wondered whether they could really increase her allure. She was perfect without any of these embellishments, he thought. He consciously controlled his train of thought and brought his mind back to the work at hand.

He observed that there was an ornate rosewood box with the word "PINKY" etched into its top in pink. 

Picking it up, he asked, "Pinky?"

She nodded, agreeing. She explained, "That's what my parents called me. Short form of my name. Also a reference to my complexion. Now that they are no more, only my sister calls me that. There's nothing in that box except my mother's necklace and a few trinkets."

He opened the box, and found, as informed, a beautiful necklace which was clearly old, given the exquisite workmanship that was no longer seen. He took out the necklace and held it between his hands, admiring the composition of stones of various colours harmoniously blending in to create a masterpiece.

He remarked, "I am sure this necklace would look wonderful on you."

"Would you like to see me wearing it?" she inquired tauntingly, arching an eyebrow.

"No," he firmly replied, suppressing all his emotions and senses which were exhorting him to say "Yes, I would love that."

As he put the necklace back in, he observed that the inner depth of the container was substantially lower that its external height. Intrigued, he prised out the false bottom of the container. What he saw in the lower compartment shocked him to his core.

There were nearly fifty phalanges in the the box. He had enough knowledge of anatomy to recognise that they were phalanges from human hands. Some were single, separated into distal, intermediate and proximal, while some were attached to each other forming a pair. It was clear to him from the ones that had all the three parts, that these were the bones of the little finger, a fact that the forensic team would later confirm. When they did have flesh on them, one could have called them Pinkies. Pinky had been true to the name lovingly bestowed on her by her parents.

                                                                              **

As the ACP was being taken away, Inspector Murthy recalled how his meeting with his boss had ended. 

After the Inspector had apprised his senior that several missing persons had been themselves accused of harassing or ill-treating ladies. Their cases were being handled by ACP Pinakini, who was unable to proceed further due to political interference. Inspector Murthy had suspected her of taking justice into her own hands. No bodies had been found and it would be difficult to pin anything on Pinky. 

The DIG had apprised the ACP's superior about the plan and had announced the same day that Inspector Murthy was being transferred due to his inability to solve the missing cases and all the cases would now be handled by his subordinate who had recently shown promise. The DIG had also obtained one of the complaints  against the ACP that could be used to procure a search warrant.

                                                                              **

On interrogation, Pinakini confessed having lured each of her victims to the forest, where her sister was the Range Forest Officer and done them to death, leaving the bodies to disposal by wild animals. Pinky had snipped off their right pinkies as a souvenir. After cleaning off the flesh from the them, she had stored the phalanges in the box. 

Inspector Murthy was transferred back to Crime Branch.

                                                                             ***


Copyright notice: The contents of this blog may not be used in any form without the express written consent of the blog owner, who may be contacted at kishoremrao@hotmail.com.





Monday, 8 July 2019

A Bird in Hand


Inspector Murthy was on his morning walk in the woods near his residence. It was early morning and he could hear the wind blowing between the trees. He was a regular walker in that area and was fairly well known to other walkers. He was nearly sixty and on the verge of retirement. He was not as fit as he used to be and usually took a break half-way through his walk in the quadrangle near the office of the Forest Department. He spent some time there everyday doing some stretches.  He always carried a couple of fistfuls of grain with him for feeding the birds in the quadrangle, like some other walkers did.

As he approached the quadrangle, one of the regulars coming up the path wished him a good morning and said, "Sir, we have something peculiar today. There's a parrot among the birds feeding on the grain. It seems to be talking about a murder again and again."

His interest piqued, the Inspector quickened his pace. There were plenty of birds in the forests and he had often heard the call of wild parrots. He had seen them land in the quadrangle once in a while to sip a little water from a large concrete bowl kept there. But he had never heard one speak – at least in these woods.

He was usually comfortable with all sorts of animals and birds and they too seemed to easily take to him. He pulled out some grain and extended his palm to the parrot sitting on the rim of the water bowl. It picked up a seed and spoke in KannaDa, "My name is Totapuri." The Inspector was impressed to note that it had introduced itself first.

It was definitely not a wild parrot, he surmised. He did not know if parrots merely parroted lines they had heard or responded to questions or phrases spoken by humans with set answers. He was not sure if they were capable of carrying on a conversation in English or other language. He thought that there was no harm in trying the latter, but was unable to get any meaningful conversation going. It just seemed to be repeating random phrases. But in between random phrases in KannaDa, it kept repeating one phrase more often than the others, as if it was showing off the latest addition to its repertoire – "Listen to me, Kumar! Don't kill me! .... Aaah, you've stabbed me!".

As it kept pecking at the grain between bouts of speech, he got up and started his return walk, still holding some grain in his open hand. It came and sat on his shoulder as he walked, occasionally getting off to have a grain and continuing its chatter. It appeared that it was  used to human company and had taken fancy to him.

He took it home and put it in one of the spare toilets for the time being. He did not believe in imprisoning birds, but  keeping in view it's refrain, had a premonition that it just might turn out to be a witness to a murder. Of course, it was always possible that the line was from a television serial. But for the present, he did not have a murder case on his hands. He decided he would buy a cage to house it till he found its owner or otherwise decided to let it fly free.

1. Totapuri is actually a type of mango, named as such due to its resemblance to a parrot's beak. Someone with a sense of humour seemed to have reversed the idea.

**

As Murthy was driving to work, the jeep radio came alive. The operator was paging him, saying, "Inspector Murthy, sir, a body has been discovered in house number 303 in Thunga Layout near your residence. Please go there directly. Other personnel are already on the way and will come directly to the spot."

He was not too far from the residential layout which was mentioned. Therefore, he took a deviation to go there. As he drove to the address,  Murthy remembered his early firing practice with the vintage SMLE, or point 303 as it was commonly called based on its bore. The other jeep carrying his assistant and junior staff was already there. The sub-Inspector informed him that the forensic team and an ambulance had already been informed.

Inspector Murthy was told that the maid had found the body when she had let herself in at around 9 in the morning. He went straight to the room the body was lying in. The victim was lying on her back and it was clear that the she been stabbed with a knife that still lay embedded just below her rib cage.

He made some preliminary inquiries with the maid. The house neither had any security staff nor CCTV coverage. In the meantime, the forensic team arrived and went about their task, looking for fingerprints and other evidence. The body was sent for post-mortem.

For him, the most interesting part of his investigation was the finding of an empty birdcage that fallen on its side, in the same room as the corpse. He was fairly certain that he was in possession of the bird in question.

2. Small Magazine Lee Enfield, still in service in many police stations in India.

**

As the investigation proceeded, it was clear that getting evidence was going to be difficult. The victim, Ms. Kumar, was working in a bank nearby, while her husband Ajit Kumar was a marketing manager, who was out on official tour. The forensic team did not find any other finger-prints other than the residents and the maid. No prints were found on the knife either. The time of death was fixed between 7 and 8 am.

Inspector Murthy had deduced that the parrot he had was a witness to the crime, but could not think of any way to interrogate the bird. He had suspected Ajit Kumar, but was unable to pin it on him due to lack of evidence, as Ajit had claimed to have left for Mysore at 7 am. The inspector got confirmation that he had indeed checked in into a hotel in Mysore at 12 am. The time taken for travel was a bit too long, but not impossible given the traffic scenario in the city and on the Bangalore-Mysore highway.

**

It was time to expand the scope of investigation. As a routine, Inspector Murthy visited the bank that Ms. Kumar worked in, and asked to meet her the manager of the branch. The Deputy Manager informed him that the Manager, Mr Sukumar was not well and had not come to the office for the last couple of days. He managed to obtain the Manager's residential address from the Deputy Manager.

As the Inspector drove to the Manager's house, he mused that there was a second Kumar in the reckoning now. But his preliminary interrogation of Sukumar did not yield any valuable leads. Sukumar had claimed to be walking in the very same forest that the Inspector at the time of the crime. To make things worse, the Inspector recalled seeing him in the forest around 7:45 am, just before he had reached the quadrangle.

**

The Inspector would have twirled his moustache when thinking deeply, but was seriously impeded by the fact that he was clean shaven. He couldn't chew at his pipe, since he did not have one. Instead, he chewed at the tip of his pen. It did not take a forensic expert to say that it was a well-chewed pen.

He had two suspects both with the name Kumar and who had incomplete alibis. Both could have committed the crime in a narrow window of opportunity. He scribbled something on a piece of paper and handed it over to his deputy, saying, "Get this typed and pasted on the pillar near the eastern gate of the forest."

He then called both the Kumars, one by one, and asked them some questions. When they enquired about his progress in the case, he informed them casually, "We are looking for the parrot that was missing from the cage in the victim's room. Perhaps, it can lead us to the killer. We have put up a reward notice offering Rs.10,000/- at the gate of the forest."

**

Around 3 pm that day, a motorcycle reached the gate and the helmeted rider got off. The gate was at the end of a dead end road. A labourer was digging near the kerb. The biker, who seemed to be in a hurry left the motorcycle key in the ignition. Without removing his helmet, he went to the gate and read the poster, which said;

Missing
Pet Parrot 

Reward of Rs.10,000
Finder may please contact mobile number xxxxx xxxxx

The biker tore off the poster and put it in his bag. As he returned to the bike, he found that his bike key was missing. The labourer stood nearby with the key in his hand. The biker got irritated and began abusing the labourer, asking, "Why have you taken my bike key?"

In turn, the labourer questioned him, "Why did you remove the poster?"

Enraged, the biker said, "Who are you to ask me? Return the key peacefully or else I will make you return it."

"I will not," was the terse response.

As the biker was trying to get physical with the labourer, a hand fell on the biker's shoulder. Turning around he saw a police inspector standing behind him. He immediately complained, "Sir, this chap has taken my bike key."

"I know. I saw." said Inspector Murthy, adding, "He is a policeman in mufti."

He continued, "I have been watching you from the opposite house and have your actions recorded on camera. What's you name?"

"Anil Kumar, sir," replied the now chastened biker.

Another Kumar, mused the Inspector, ... The more the merrier! Now why would he have murdered the lady?

He asked, "Why did you remove the poster?"

"Sir, I am just a simple office boy. I just removed it on instructions of my boss, Mr Sukumar," he confessed.

On further questioning, he revealed that his boss had been making passes at Ms. Kumar even in the office.

Sukumar was arrested on the suspicion of murder and confronted with the evidence of Anil Kumar. He finally admitted having made advances towards Ms Kumar (though his job description and delegated power did mention 'making advances', this was probably not what his employer had in mind) and visiting her on the fateful morning and killing her with the kitchen knife when she resisted. During their tussle, the bird cage had fallen and its latch had opened. The bird had flown out screaming Ms Kumar's last words. After committing the murder, he had proceeded for a walk in the forest.

***

Epilogue: The Inspector retired soon thereafter and penned the episode in his diary as the Case of the Three Kumars. The parrot continues to live with him, though not in a cage. It often accompanies him on his walk. It occasionally alarms a visitor by screaming and repeating, "Listen to me, Kumar! Don't kill me! .... Aaah, you've stabbed me!". 

Copyright notice: The contents of this blog may not be used in any form without the express written consent of the blog owner, who may be contacted at kishoremrao@hotmail.com.

Inspector Murthy Unmasks An Offender

     After Inspector Murthy's retirement, he had increased his daily quota of walking. In addition to his daily morning walks in the for...