#100WordsOrLess “Yes sir… Yes sir… Ok sir… Over” I instructed the driver to pull up at the next chaai-shop he sees. He looked at me quizzically. “We have to bring him in after 6pm. Judge would have left by then. We can keep custody for the night and interrogate.” He nodded and braked the van to a halt at a small shop in the highway. The policemen got down and gulped down piping hot chaai. I lit a Dunhill and fiddled with my mobile. Priyanka had messaged. I didn’t reply. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the prisoner slowly shuffle to me with an unlit cigarette in his mouth. “Maachis?” I lit his Dunhill. He puffed and smiled contently. “It’s been years since Dunhill has been available.” I shrugged. Maybe they were not available where he was from. He continued cheerfully. “No need to take me to police custody inspector saab. Get me to a judge and I’ll give you a full confession.” I looked at him right in the eye. Three years into my job, I could tell when a suspect lied. He didn’t look like he was lying. I looked at my watch. “Even if we leave now, Judge Desai would have left by then.” “Oh no, I’m sure Judge Desai will be there till 6:36pm today.” I didn’t know if he was bluffing or not. And no one could know the exact time to which the judge will be there. But still, a full confession would be especially useful in such a high profile case. I ordered everyone to move quickly. Just as I was about to get in beside the driver, he shouted out: “Aur Inspector Saab, message Priyanka back.” I simply nodded wondering how he knew. Maybe he had seen my mobile while standing next to me. That must be it. I turned on the siren and the van pulled out. -- Hundreds of flashes went off as we pulled into the judicial complex. I covered his face with a dirty rag and hurried him in. 6:22pm. Judge Desai was there. He was processed in double quick time and pulled into the witness stand. I stood mutely in the spectator gallery. Hundreds of journalists were craning their necks to get a better look at the suspect. Judge Desai cleared his throat pompously. He was a showman. “Would you like to confess?” he questioned dramatically. The man in the witness stand smiled and started. “You can call me Prashant. I’m from the year 2058. I came back in time to assassinate…” I swore loudly. A couple of journalists turned towards me. I couldn’t care less. I understood now what the bastard was doing. My SI turned towards me with a confused look on his face. I explained that the accused was trying for an insanity plea. If Desai found him insane, which he surely would – he would be remanded to judicial custody and turned over to the Medical Examiner for at least a week. The worst part was, if he kept this charade up, he would be found insane and locked up in a psychiatric hospital. And the Home Minister’s murder would be forgotten. By the time he finished explaining why he had killed the Home Minister, the journalists had become delirious with delight. Not often they got such a juicy case. As expected he was remanded to judicial custody. I half dragged him to the lock up. He was still smiling. “I’m sorry Inspector Saab. I did what I had to do. There was no other option.” “You could’ve been a man and confessed honestly. The Doctors will not be fooled by your acting”. I wasn’t entirely sure myself. Government psychiatrists weren’t known for their diligence. He laughed heartily as the bars of his cell shut close. “I’m pretty sure they won’t find me insane. In fact, they won’t find me.” I was confused. I stopped the jailer for a second. “Don’t worry Inspector saab. You’ll not understand now. Maybe in 30 odd years you will.” I started to walk away. “Oh and Sir ji, reply to Priyanka please”, he hollered behind me. The bastard. -- It was all the media would talk about for the next few weeks. The nation wanted to know how a high profile prisoner could escape from judicial custody and vanish without a trace. To be frank, the police also wanted to know. No one knew where the murderer called Prashant had escaped to. We had exhausted every last possibility. I came back home frustrated after chasing down another useless lead. I grumbled about it on call to Priyanka. She was my fiance now and listened patiently. My only solace in these frustrating times. I was about to doze off when my phone pinged. I sleepily opened the SMS. Unknown number. “Inspector saab, maybe you should stop asking where I am. The correct question is which year am I in. Oh and congratulations in advance for your marriage on October 14th! Priyanka is a lucky girl. :) ” I turned to check the calendar. It was July 3rd and I was still a bachelor. I hadnt told anyone, not even Priyanka, that I was planning our wedding to be on October 14. Maybe I had to consider time travel as a possibility.
Posted on: Sun, 08 Jun 2014 12:54:37 +0000
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