“WHAT IS A PERFECT CRIME?” he wrote in his book.
He checked the time. It was 11:00 PM. He drank another cup of coffee and lit a cigarette. There was a strong breeze across as he stood on his terrace watching the city lights glow. The windows of his room made little yet considerable noise as he tried to think about the question he was thinking since that evening.
What is a perfect crime?
He went into the room and sat at his table. He opened the last page of his small note book and took a red ink pen. He thought for a while and wrote in big, capital letters –
“MURDER”
He leaned back on his chair. He was thrilled. He took the pen again and wrote on the page.
“DIRECT OR INDIRECT BENEFIT”
He took a black ink pen and connected the two sentences with an arrow mark. He was getting there. The wind now blew faster. His cat played with his left leg.
“Go away!”
He walked out to the balcony again. His cat followed him. A couple of bikes sped on the road at high speeds distracting him. He cursed them. He held the cat his hands and looked at its blank face. He spoke to the cat.
“The first thing that the cops look for after a murder is who has the maximum benefit or who could have had the maximum benefit? Isn’t it?”
The cat said meow. He looked happy.
He went back to his table and opened his book again.
“MURDER WITHOUT A MOTIVATION OR BENEFIT = PERFECT CRIME.”
The clock struck 12. There were 12 long absolutely intentional and melodramatic bells that echoed through his walls. At the sound of every bell his plan grew bigger, wilder and crazier. His cat demanded an explanation. He was in no mood to give one. He wore his big leather jacket and went into the kitchen. He took the sharpest of his knives, put it in a piece of leather and hid it in his jacket pocket.
30 Minutes Later: Coffee Shop: Attempt 1
He didn’t like the coffee. He looked around for the waiter. He called him.
“Hey.”
The guy turned around. He was wearing a white shirt. He had a big ink stain near his shirt pocket. He looked tired.
“What’s wrong with your shirt?”
“Ink. Sir, do you need more coffee?”
“No.”
The knife in his jacket pocket was poking him. He looked at the waiter and looked at his stain again. He didn’t seem to like it.
“It’s your lucky day. Here take this money.” The knife remained in his pocket. He hated the waiter. That was the motivation. He couldn’t kill him. He would be caught. He walked out of the coffee shop and stood on the road looking for a sign.
He looked up. A few bats flew ferociously towards some trees. He smiled.
“Taxi!”
“Where sir?”
“To the airport.”
12 Minutes Later: In The Taxi: Attempt 2
He looked at the driver. The driver drove at snail pace. He tried to like him. He couldn’t. He tried to hate him. He couldn’t. He was blank. He had his prey. He would ask him to stop the taxi for a leak and stab him. He moved his hand towards the jacket pocket.
“Sir, I need to take a leak. You please be seated inside the car. Lot of murders happening around I hear. I’m a news reporter but only during day. You are not safe outside.”
“Ok.” The knife remained in the pocket.
The driver stopped the car and went out. He came back after 3 minutes. He drove again at normal speed. The taxi reached the airport.
“Lucky man number 2! Here is your tip. Also don’t drive at night in the city, there are killers everywhere.” He winked at the driver and walked into the airport.
“One ticket to Stych please.”
5 Minutes Before
“Give me a map.”
“5 bucks sir.”
“Okay here.”
He studied the map carefully and looked for a city he hadn’t heard about. Stych. He found his answer. Nobody knew him in Stych. He would go to Stych without any motivation. He would kill a stranger without any reason and he would get back here the next morning.
Present
He carefully managed to find a gap in the glass and slid the knife through it to escape the security. They checked him. They found nothing. He smiled.
He picked his knife and boarded the plane. He found a window seat and looked outside the plane as it took off. He didn’t like asking questions to himself but the expression on his face showed he did. It was a 3 hour flight. He slept.
4 hours later: Stcyh: Attempt 3
He got out of the airport and took out his coin. He flipped and decided to the road to his left side. He checked his pocket again, he had the knife. He felt something in his left pocket.
THE RED SMALL NOTE BOOK.
He read what he had written before, smiled and kept it back. He walked 2 miles and took 16 rights and 7 lefts in between. He reached a deserted road. The roads didn’t know him. The air that blew there didn’t know him. The closed shops didn’t know him. He walked with a hand in his right pocket.
There was somebody walking towards him. Somebody he didn’t know. Somebody who didn’t know him. He said to himself,
“Ladies and Gentlemen, the first victim of a perfect crime!”
He walked towards the man. The man walked towards him. He got a grip on his knife. The man did nothing.
40 meters. 30 meters. 20 meters. 10 meters.
They must have been around half a meter apart when in a flash he took out his knife. In a flash. Like a reflection of mirror the other man took out a knife from his left pocket.
Both the men stabbed each other.
They looked into each other’s eyes. Both of them had a question. The same question. They fell down. They died.
9 hours later.
He was the smartest cop in Stych. He observed both the men lying in a pool of blood with sharp knifes. He searched them.
He found 2 passports, some cash and 2 little note books – a red and a black one. He flipped through the pages of the Red Little Book first.
“MURDER WITHOUT A MOTIVATION OR BENEFIT = PERFECT CRIME.”
“Hmmm.” He said.
He took out the Black Little Book and read.
“PERFECT CRIME = MURDER WITHOUT A MOTIVATION OR BENEFIT.”
“What do you think Mr Keat?”
“Sir, like they say in a romantic movie, they met each other once and it changed their lives forever.”
“What do you mean?”
Mr Keat, the smart cop smiled. He stood up and looked into his colleague’s eye.
