The Creative Murder

The train to Mumbai was crowded. There were people loading their luggage and the others pushing them to get in at the same time. And Rahul was pretty upset.
"Hey, young man. Move it." It was a man in his early 30s and trying desperately to get his luggage into the compartment.
"Sorry. All yours". Rahul didn't like to get into arguments. Arguments were not his forte. His life was meant for computers and the internet. The computer had changed the fate of the entire middle class in India and Rahul incidentally happened to be a part of that very culture. His prized possession was the Dell XPS laptop his cousin had bought for him from the USA. And that was what he ever protected with his life. Everything else could always be bought.
Inside his seat was occupied by someone else, which was not unusual.
"That's my seat please".
"So? You can adjust for awhile cant u? The youth these days have forgotten to share. Everyone is simply selfish"
Rahul knew this reply almost by heart. Every time he traveled a similar act would be enacted. Initially he had fought for his rights but down the line he had learnt to give up. He simply climbed up on the top birth, extracted his laptop from his bag and started working.
"Excuse me. Those are our seats." The encroacher was being accosted by the man who had been lugging his suitcases into the train. Rahul could not resist the fun since he knew a fight was coming. But his gaze was drawn to the woman who stood behind the man. He was embarrassed to find her looking at him. She was smiling at him, not a full smile but something between a naughty and a shy one. Had he been ogling? He was ashamed of himself. He buried himself in his laptop. The Journey was a good 12 hours.
It was near Igatpuri, a small town famous for the vada pav snack that he decided to get out of the train for a snack and escape the thoughts of the woman. She had been shooting glances at him and smiling that very mysterious smile of hers.
He had spotted a vada pav vendor whose wares looked decent and clean. He was relishing the taste of the absolutely hot vada blending effortlessly with the sour sauce and the bland bread and wondering why vada pav here only tasted this good.
Later in the day, she did something outrageous, she winked at him. They had met briefly at the vada pav vendor where she had asked him for change for a hundred rupees.
It was around 9 pm that it was unanimously decided to go to bed and people started taking up their berths. Everyone had had a nice meal.
"Sharing and caring ji". That is what had started the sharing of food. The Elderly couple had some nice homemade food and Preeti and her husband had some nearly fresh salads. It was a nice crowd. Rahul was the only one who had nothing to offer. So he offered everyone some coke.
Somehow everyone had felt sleepy at the same time. It was weird that no one wanted to chat or play cards. He had just slept, somehow managing to push the shortcut button for shutdown. He needed to conserve battery power.
Earthquake!! Everything around was shaking. He had been having such a nice time with Preeti when suddenly the earthquake had struck.
"Wake up. Hey you, wake up". What had happened to her voice? It sounded masculine. And why was she asking him to wake up.
And suddenly with a stiff whiff of oxygen, wakefulness had spread over his brain. His eyes were still groggy and his head felt heavy.
It took him over a couple of minutes till he was nearly fully awake and reality dawned upon him. It was an angry and frustrated looking police officer who was trying to wake him up. The other people around his berth were in a similar state. Everyone was sleepy and hardly able to comprehend the situation around them.
"What is the problem officer? How and when did the train stop?" Rahul's brain had finally found the control to the voice system. But the visual controls were still being a problem.
"Problem? You want to know the problem? The problem is today is my son's first birthday and I am here. Now that is a problem. But I am sure you are not interested in that problem. As for the problem that should concern you, look at that." The officer pointed in the direction where Preeti and her husband were seated.
"Holy crap" was all Rahul could muster. His brain was pumping adrenalin into his body. His heart was running over the prescribed limit and his vision system was suddenly fully functional. Preeti was lying in her berth perfectly normal. Only her eyes were open, staring at the ceiling and she wasn't blinking. Her husband was crying uncontrollably. There was a crowd gathered around. Now he saw the problem. Preeti had died. But there was something wrong with the way she was lying on the berth. And then the thought had cut through his consciousness, slapping him awake to the reality. Preeti had been murdered!!
"How......When..."
"We are trying to find out mister. Now I will call the constable and he will give you a cup of potent coffee. I want you to drain the cup and start telling the constable your account of yesterday. Think carefully before you start. Ooh and by the way I am Inspector Mhatre."
"Sure inspector, anything for the law." Rahul had this strong feeling to retch. But somehow the coffee managed to put his brain in control again and he was soon signing the information he had given to the constable.
The train was at Nagpur station and it was almost evening before he was allowed to go home. After calming down his mother and narrating the while experience to his Father, he went down to sleep. But somehow sleep wanted no contact with him. He was haunted by the pretty face of Preeti.
The morning was overwhelmed by news of the murder. Nothing so sensational ever happened in Nagpur. Big crime was for the big cities. Rahul was already a mini celebrity since he was actually present at the scene of the crime. Everyone wanted to play detective and ask him their set of questions. The papers told the story of the Behl family. An affluent business family who had married off their daughter to Jayram Verma. Jayram was much less in status to the Behl family. The rumor mill never stopped running. Some said the marriage was a farce to get rid of an offspring who had gone out of control. Others said it was a facade to hide the stigma of an unwanted pregnancy. Whatever the case, Jayram's luck made quite a few young entrepreneurs very jealous. They could have done with such luck. The marriage of the couple was never happy. There had been various incidents of Preeti being spotted with other men. Overall, Jayram was either the sufferer or a very shrewd person who had managed to rake in a fortune. Either way he never spoke to anyone. This very silence had helped the prosecutors be convinced that they had the murderer. He had never agreed to or denied the murder but he had every reason to kill his wife.
"Hello Inspector. Please come it." Inspector Mhatre had called one day suddenly and said he wanted to meet Rahul.
"Hello Mr.Rahul. I wasn't sure how long you would be available here in Nagpur and so I thought I might clear some of my doubts. "
"Sure. Sure. How can I help you?"
"This is Inspector Gokhle from the crime branch."
"Hello Inspector Gokhle. Please have a seat and we can talk. Would you have something to drink?"
"You never mentioned in your account to the police that you knew Mrs.Verma." Inspector Gokhle was known for his rash methods and his even rasher methods of communication. He had solved many a cases which seemed almost impossible to solve. And he had achieved all this success at a very young age. He was almost an Icon in the force.
"I didn't". He couldn't face the Inspector. These policemen could read faces like no other.
"Come now, Rahul. Can I call you that? The vada pav vendor has already testified. And the dead woman's phone happened to have your number in it. Would you mind explaining that?"
"Actually...I....I don't know how I.....I....Ok..Ok...That's it. It was she who came up to me and asked for change. You know, she was quite irresistible. And we ended up sharing numbers and some SMSs. I mean it was nothig. But... please... I had nothing to do with it."
"We know Rahul. But please get this etched in your brain. Never, ever, ever lie to the police. However maligned we might be but trust me, we are good. We always know in the end." No wonder people feared Inspector Gokhle.
"Now can you tell me everything that happened after the exchange of numbers?"
"Well, I went back to my upper birth and continued working on my laptop when suddenly I got a message from Preeti."
"What were you working on Rahul?"
"Actually that would be quite technical for you guys".
"Oh really. Can we have a look at your laptop?"
"But really inspector, I really don't see why that would be necessary"
"ooh no..It's just routine. I hope you understand".
"Ok. Let me get it for you".
"That's a nice machine you got there." Inspector Mhatre looked impressed.
"My brother got it from the US last year." Rahul was sure the policemen were only impressed by the looks of the machine. You really couldn't expect ordinary policemen to know anything about computers. He started up the machine for the policemen.
"What are you looking for anyways?", he asked but got no reply.
To his surprise, Inspector Gokhle had more knowledge about computers than he had expected. He was quick to move about the computer, and started a search for files created in the last 7 days. The search threw up only two files. One was a .html file. Nothing interesting, just an example web page he was creating. The other file was a .wmv file. He had never created any file as such.
"I don't recall any such file". He looked uncomfortable.
The inspector was quick to run the file. It was a camera grab of Preeti and her antics to grab his attention. She was winking at him, and moving her hand over her belly.
"Well. We have more secrets don't we?"
"Ooh well. I didn't think this was very important....It was just a little game I had started after our little meeting outside the train. It's really not really worth a look".
Now Preeti was giggling and secretly blowing him kisses. And then the scene in the laptop switched to dinner. The next scene was strange. Everyone was sleepy almost at the same time and within moments everyone was asleep. Ten minutes later a figure arose. Slowly it picked up a pillow and placed it over the Preeti's face. The struggle was short. Soon the feet stopped kicking, the hands stopped groping. Preeti was dead. The figure then moved looked around. The facial features were not clear but it definitely was the face of Jayram Verma.
Inspector Mhatre was ecstatic. This would definitely close the case and he would get his additional star. It was about time. The boy had saved the day.
"Thanks Rahul. Unexpected but very vital piece of evidence!" Something seemed to be eating the crime branch inspector.
"Well, It's time for action. We have to get Jayram before he plans something else. By the way, that's a very interesting collection of of books you have there".
"Well computers are my life. I am trying my hands with different types of programs these days."
"Good Night, Rahul".
"Happy to be of help Inspector".
Breaking news the next day was full of the arrest of Jayram. Inspector Mhatre was there, being interviewed by the media. As expected there was no mention of Rahul. And the movie clip was never mentioned. Surprisingly, Inspector Gokhle was never seen. The entire day was spent by analysts trying to ascertain the motive behind the murder. Eventually, the motive became clear as well. It had to be Preeti's character. Jayram had refused to say anything but had agreed to sign the confession the police prepared. The case was solved. The police would file the charge sheet within a week. Inspector Mhatre would be getting a promotion.
Rahul was happy. His laptop was being returned to him this evening. It was his last weekend in Nagpur. He was fully charged up and rearing to get back to his job. His mother was an excellent cook and he had had his fill of his favorite food. The door rang. Inspector Gokhle was here.
"Hi Rahul, so when are you going back?"
"Tomorrow actually. I have a very busy week ahead"
"Here is your laptop. By the way Rahul why did you kill her?" Gokhle was a changed man. In that one instant that gentle, good inspector had turned into the toughie cop the criminals feared. His face was pulled into a frown, his voice was rough and his palm was digging into the lap of Rahul. It hurt real bad.
Rahul sprang to his feet."Huh? Wha....Me... What are you talking about? I provided you with the evidence. Are you out of your mind? The criminal is already behind bars. Where is Inspector Mhatre? He is a sensible man. You seem to be drunk." Even though Rahul looked cool, his face was flushed and beads of perspiration were already forming on his forehead.
His loud voice had brought his parents into the hall where this conversation had been going on.
"What is this Inspector? Are you torturing a kid now? The police commissioner is a friend of mine." Rahul's father was already on the defensive. He wasn't really sure what was going on but the policemen were always wrong, weren't they?
"Calm down Mr.Joshi. I would not have accused your son without evidence. I have an arrest warrant and my unit is waiting below. I just wanted this to be discreet."
"Rahul? What is this that the inspector is saying? What is the meaning of all this?" Rahul's mother collapsed and his father rushed in to take care of her.
"Well Rahul. It's time to be a good boy and start singing".
"I should have known that crime never pays. But I do not know how you even got to me. I was too good. I am a master of my craft. And the computer is my weapon."
"The computer is what gave you away my boy. Now let's hear your story".
Two days later, the inspectors met in a bar. The case had been solved and it was time to celebrate. Mhatre had carried with him a copy of Rahul's confession. It went thus:
I come from a conservative family. I have never had any girlfriends. My parents were always suspicious of the girls around me. I was in short, deprived. Always protected, I was getting to detest the confinement. After my engineering degree, when I got this offer to relocate to Mumbai, it was a dream come true. I had seen Mumbai in the movies. There would be women and bars. There would be late nights and discos. And I did exactly that. Every weekend was spent at a disco. There were a couple of one night stands. It was during one such late night that I met Preeti. She looked stunning and I knew I would do anything to sleep with her. It was easy getting women to talk after a couple of drinks and Preeti was no different. Soon we were exchanging phone numbers and I saw her again the next weekend. We had dinner a couple of times before we ended up in bed. It was the best experience of my life. But like they say, every good as some bad linked to it. The better the good, the bad associated is worse. I already knew she was married and I also knew about her husband and the kind of guy he was. He was just a loyal servant of Preeti's family. He was faithful till the end. Trying his best never to let Preeti's family be maligned. I was having the time of my life.
After 6 months of doing what we were doing, the infatuation was slowly ending. I had grown mature over the couple of years I had lived away from the family and I was slowing understanding my culture as well. Once the lust had subsided, I was overcome with guilt and I could not forgive myself for what I was doing to the poor husband. It was time to end this.
I talked to Preeti about ending our little affair over dinner the next weekend. But I was surprised at the response I got. Preeti was the kind of woman who liked constant attention. She told me I was not the only one she was seeing but I was the best in the current lot. She did not intend to free me so fast. I was shocked. I was already losing sleep because of guilt. My performance at my job was already on a downward slope and I had got 2 warnings. One more bad rating and it would be goodbye to a good job. I simply had to convince Preeti to free me. I tried again the next day.
I still remember what she said then,"Ok smart ass. Stop begging and be a real man. I was attracted to you because you were so carefree. And now you come and preach me about ethics and guilt? Do you think I care? Now I have a little surprise for you. Do you have your laptop? Play this CD."
It was an elaborate 1 hour movie of our love making. I was dumb founded. Oh God. I could have committed suicide. There was no escape for me now. But the worst was yet to come.
"You ever think of walking out on me again and I will post this on the internet. You must have noticed the camera angle? It never focuses on my face. Now see me again the next weekend."
I was shattered. What started out as a routine affair had now boomeranged. I was a victim now. And moreover my family was a victim. If this ever came out, I could not imagine what calamity may befall my family. My parents who had the reputation of being the purest and the best in our class would have no face to show to society. This had to be stopped. They have a saying in medicine, "Do not treat the symptom, treat the cause." I decided to do just that. I decided to eradicate the virus called Preeti.
I was an artist right from childhood. But recently, I had been attracted to the phenomenon called Morphing and other movie effects. The craze had started with a famous English movie called Terminator 2. I went on to learn some of the best software from very reputable institutes. Only I had never tried anything commercially. I decided to use my craft.
Every war has some collateral damage. In this war against the virus Preeti, the collateral would be her husband Jayram. People like Jayram do not mean anything to anyone anyways and they do not make a difference in this world either. So Jayram should be able to help me. I followed Jayram over the next few days and extracted his basic movements. I was ready for his part of the scene. Then started part 2 of the plan.
I told Preeti the next weekend that I would be going to Nagpur for a fortnight. The response was as expected. She ordered me to stay. When I refused, she was angry. And anger shadows a person's rationality. I was able to suggest she visit her relatives in Nagpur and we can have a nice time there as well. We booked the tickets together. The little incident at the vada pav stall was not our introduction Preeti's desperation. I did not want her to talk to me on the journey, but she did it anyways. Every moment I was working on the clip I was creating.
During lunch I offered everyone coke, only with a pill of sedatives. Nothing serious, but just to induce deep sleep. That was the last sequence I needed. I quickly fit in the pieces and finished the clip. I then took my pillow and the virus Preeti was soon eradicated.
I had done it. Preeti was dead. Now I simply had to get the clip to the police. I came back home and cleaned up the machine, uninstalling software and cleaning up traces of my work. I expected a visit from the police soon. The clip was discovered as expected. And poor Jayram was arrested. All this was my doing. But I have managed to do exactly what I tried to prevent. My poor family is maligned for ever now.
---Signed Rahul Joshi
"Amazing case. But tell me Gokhle; how the heck did you suspect him?"
"The perception of the people played in my hands. People take policemen to be illiterate, corrupt people who know nothing about the world or technology. I on the contrary am quite an expert in matters of computers. It's like a passion. I don't know when it exactly started but I can't live without the computer or the internet. My first suspicion arose when I noticed the books in Rahul's room. Almost all the books were about movie making and morphing. Why was a software programmer reading so many multimedia books? The second mistake Rahul did was he did not practice emotions. He did not blush when we mentioned Preeti to him for the first time. Any person who gets embarrassed cannot avoid blushing. The final evidence came from his hard disk.
Every program leaves behind traces in a hard disk. There are registry entries and temporary files. Even though Rahul had deleted registry entries, he had somehow forgotten about the temporary files. That is where I found traces of the clips that the software had left behind. I took the laptop to our computer division and we managed to recover the deleted files. Ooh yes, that is possible, don't look so surprised. That was the final nail in the coffin. Enquiries at Mumbai threw light on his affair and a raid at Preeti's house got us her collection of CDs. Not a very nice woman. She managed to ruin the lives of so many people around her. Personally I would have liked her dead too. Trust me technology can be a real pain sometimes."
They continued their drinking till late night before they finally said goodbye. It was supposed to be Mhatre's promotion party but Gokhle had not let him foot the bill. He had his own reasons to be happy. On his way home, he pulled out a video CD from his pocket titled 'Gokhle 1'. He crushed it and threw it in the open drainage hole. He walked away, a better and a happier man.