Perfect Crime
Vengrai Parthasarathy
Hari was what you can call a free-wheeling’ gentleman’.. He liked to go about as ‘Harry’ because the name had a western ring to it. A failed tenth Grader, he was a fairly personable young man – a glib talker who could talk his way into and out of any situation.
After his disciplinarian father died he fell into bad company and drifted away from the straight path. He started quite early in life as a petty pilferer. A couple of times he was caught and punished but over time he developed enough skills to indulge in shop-lifting without being detected. He managed to eke out his livelihood by picking pockets and stealing bags and brief cases at bus stops and railway stations. He came near to being included in the “Known Depredators” (KD) list of the police.
Harry was an avaricious reader of what used to be called detective stories. He would go to the library and manage to spirit away an Erle Stanley Garner or an Agatha Christie under his shirt and read them avidly. Murder was not his line and he didn’t tote a gun to be able to follow in the footsteps of the Al Capones of America. He did not use even a knife; only half a razor blade, nimble fingers and facile tongue. Harry knew his limitations. He operated in safe territories and was familiar with the ways and weaknesses of his victims.
Harry was not without his dreams. His one ambition was to pull off a perfect heist (a synonym for robbery, he picked up from Erle Stanely Gardner). A smooth job, a tidy loot, a small business and ‘aaraam – that was his dream.
A smart idea he had picked up from one of the books simmered in his mind and he spent some sleepless nights working out a fool-proof stratagem to rob a bank. The very idea was thrilling. When he mentally finalized the step-by-step- modus he was satisfied. He saw no loop-hole. Its beauty was its simplicity. ‘A humdinger of a scheme’, he repeated to himself. The odds? Not even one in a hundred of its going awry; it was so perfect.
It was past noon when the phone in the Vriddhi Bank Manager’s office rang and Mr. Vishnu lazily picked it up.
“Vishnu here…Yes, may I help you?”.
“Mr.Vishnu, I am Vikram here, Deputy Commissioner of Police, Crime Branch.”
After more than a moment’s pause he sort of braced himself and asked “Who?”
“Vikram, Deputy Police Commissioner”, said the voice on the phone. The manager waited a while and said:
“Yes, Sir. What can I do for you?”
“I have some information to share with you, Mr. Vishnu. I would have come personally but there is not time for it. It’s like this. We have reliable, information of a hold-up in your bank at about three p.m. today. Don’t get flustered” .He continued.
“We have a plan to catch the criminal with the loot. My request to you is to post a smart, cool man at the cash counter. Please ask him to hand over all the cash quietly when the hold-up man approaches. No fuss. No shouting. Let him take the money and go. We will be waiting in full force outside to catch him red handed. Please tell only a few of your top confidantes about this trap.”
“What’s your phone number Mr…er..
“Vikram is the name. Deputy Commissioner, Crimes. I am going out to organize things. So don’t try to get in touch with me on phone. This is a top secret operation; no other officer is involved. Your part is merely to play along with the hold-up man. We’ll back you up and do the rest.”
To Mr. Vishnu’s query why the chap can’t be nabbed as he entered the bank the police officer said that the idea was to catch him with the money as tell-tale evidence.
Mr. Vishnu sat in contemplation for a while. He rang up his brother-in-law, spoke to him for a while and cancelled his lunch engagement. Then he called his secretary, two other officers and the Security Supervisor. He briefed them and advised caution and secrecy. “There is no need for panic. Everything will be fine. Please get on with your work as usual. Any questions? Okay, we are all set”, he concluded.
Harry had planned to walk in and walk out with the cash, just like that. There won’t be any police because it was Harry who had posed as Vikram, the Police Deputy Commissioner on the phone and put Vishnu off the scent. A neat plan, he chuckled to himself.
On the dot at three p.m. Harry walked, handed over a threatening note to the cashier, collected the booty and walked out—straight into the arms of the police.
How was Harry to know that Deputy Commissioner Vikram was the bank Manager’s brother-in-law?