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Creative Work 84
PALPABLE
The day had come. Not that I had chosen this particular day for any definitive reason. It just looked the most appropriate date to fix in my schedule, which recently transformed into a very hectic one. It mostly does when one has to plan a foolproof plot to see the respected spouse die in understandable and very obvious accidental circumstances.
Yes, if the above stated is not that self-explanatory, then I'll repeat myself, today was the day I was supposed to assassinate my spouse.
I inhaled till my chest couldn't accept any more air in it. It was like one of those breaths you take in Yoga classes. The weather was acutely cold and impinged on me, but somehow, I never minded it. I'll say I always believed that a cold weather initiates a cold-hearted murder. For no particular reason, planning this murder had reinforced the lost poet in me.
It all started one fine day, when everything was going on fine and in its regular routine. The fineness of the day suddenly faded away when I reached back home at an awkward time to collect the Digital Diary I had forgotten. The reaction of every individual is different when he accidentally and surprisingly views the spouse enjoying an active intercourse with a family friend. As for me, I just stood there with my jaw wide open. I don't want to be pompous, but I'm one of those people who keeps quiet in crunch situations and extraordinary circumstances. Watching my beloved jump around on the bed in my absence had pushed the urge of murder into me. At that moment, I just walked away ever so softly, occupied with thoughts on how to arrange an assassination.
Everything was planned in such a manner that it took me around two weeks to get to where I am today. Watching those movies, in which we find the ever-so-clever husband shooting his wife with her pistol or poisoning her daily cup of tea, always brought an ironical smile on my face. I always consider that “ironical” is just a good way of saying “it's bad”. That is just the reason why I find this murder of mine to be “ironical”. Talking about the same movies, the husband knows the exact time, including the minutes and the second, of when his wife's going to leave for a burger. Well, if this kind of information is possessed by the husband, then getting to know about which fast food joint his wife would be going to for the burger would be elementary. He then hides himself in the lady's washroom of the same fast food joint and wears a mask that would probably make him choke to death. I mean, how on earth does he respire through that mask of his. Anyway, everything else in the movie is quite predictable afterwards. The wife comes in and the husband takes out his gun and shoots two rounds in her forehead. Surprisingly, the husband is not even remotely a suspect, unless and until the ever-so-intelligent small-time cop finds a very obvious clue and then imprisons the husband on the charge of murder in the first degree. I mean, how dumb can people be?
Not all the movies, but a lot of them are just the same as the one I mentioned above. There is an exception though, namely “A Perfect Murder”. The characterization of Michael Douglas in the movie had inspired me a lot. I've not yet seen the original Hitchcock version of the same movie, though I'm still on the hunt for the DVD. The thing that caught my notice in this movie was that Michael's character was a very spontaneous and natural one. Even if his plan failed, he had the intelligence and the natural acting talent and the quick common sense to get out of the mess with the most acceptable and obvious excuses. I wanted to do the same; I wanted to be ready for all kinds of consequences, no matter how scarce are the chances of their occurrence.
I had to create an alibi. Honestly, the toughest part in planning a proper assassination is finding a definitive alibi. I mean, I wont go around buying air tickets and rail tickets simultaneously and show that I was on a rail journey during my spouse got murdered. Whereas, technically I'd get down at the next station, take a cab to my place, kill my spouse, take a cab to the airport, land at a mid-way destination where the train's scheduled to come, and reach the final station in the train I had originally boarded. Some how, it sounded too artificial. What if the flight gets delayed? What if the train gets delayed? What if the Ticket Checker comes to check my seat and finds out that I'm not there and marks me as absent? The stated incident would make a great movie, but would never be practical enough to follow. I created a better alibi; the toilet, sophisticatedly known as the washroom. I had a friend living close to my place who had a lovely wife and 5 kids. I asked him yesterday if I could join him for a beer and he readily agreed. That was the signal I needed. Somewhere in between, I'll tell him that I had an upset stomach, and that the beer has made it worse. I'll excuse myself for the bathroom. Patrick, i.e. my friend, renovated his bathroom a week ago and now he has another door built in it that opens outside, like an exit. I'll switch the exhaust fan on. With the noise of the exhaust fan being so loud, no one would ever notice I'm not in there doing my routine bathroom stuff.
Before I continue, I would like to add another minor detail. The time of murder determined by the forensic department is never so precise that it comes down to minutes. It's basically the time given in a certain period of hours. For example, the murder took place between 1:00 p.m. & 3:00 p.m.
Somewhere in between of planning the murder, I came to the conclusion that it should not look like a murder. The law-enforcement officials are only going to look for a suspect, when they consider the death of my spouse as a murder. If it looks to be an accident, there's going to be a slight interrogation but the police would soon preempt of the fact that there was a murder. I cashed in on this thought and planned a murder that would look as an accident.
I was over with my work early today because I had arranged for the same a couple of days ago. I took out my cell-phone and called up Patrick. “Hey! I'll be with you in 10 minutes, tops” said I in the usual friendly tone. “Don't forget the beer big guy” replied Patrick. “You can trust me on that at least. I'll pick them up in the way. I must warn you though, that I'm having an upset stomach lately, but who cares a damn. No obstacles in drinking buddy”.
Ready to leave for the closing of the plot I had been arranging since the last two and a half weeks, I did find myself a bit anxious and scared. I guess it was more of the excitement that was getting on to me. As scheduled, the traffic on the way was not that heavy, it never is around 4:00 p.m., and I reached Patrick's lovely home on time. Just before ringing his doorbell, I called my spouse from my cellphone. “Honey, I'll be home in fifteen minutes, you just take your clothes off and get the bathtub ready.” “The feeling is mutual. Sure I will.” was the reply.
The rest of the day saw me participating in some adult small chat and humor with Patrick. Then the time arrived. I excused myself for the bathroom, switched the exhaust fan on and went out through the exit door. Got back into my car and started the engine as fast as it was mechanically possible. I was in a hurry, I really was. Two more steps left and then the murder would be absolutely perfect. I'll open the entrance door with my set of keys, lure my spouse into the bathtub full of water, and then throw the electrical hair dryer in. It's one of the most common accidents that happen in this modern, tech-savy era, and my spouse's death would look no different then an accident. Thinking about the excellently planned plot again brought a smile to my face.
Reaching the front porch of my home, I gave myself a final motivating talk. I could feel the butterflies flying all around in my stomach. Damn, the excitement level was so high, that I thanked god for not having a heart disease. Somehow, It was not feeling as if I were committing any crime or doing anything wrong anymore. It was like someone might feel before the final round of a game show where million of dollars are at stake on one final question. This was it; this was the very moment I'd been waiting for the last 20 days
I rang the doorbell, and the door immediately opened. “Hi Honey”, said I with an artificial smile. “Goodbye Honey” was the answer what I heard. There was a sudden loud bang and I felt this acute pain below my left shoulder. The pain was very severe and I could feel myself loosing consciousness at a very high rate as every moment passed me by. My spouse had shot me somewhere very close to the vicinity of my heart. People say that they view their whole life flashing before them during the final moments of their life. I was too confused to see anything.
“Why did u do it honey?” asked I accumulating all the energy I had. “I noticed you catching me doing it with our family friend the other day, and developed the courage to kill you for it today.” was the answer. “But your gonna get caught for this” I added. “I'll think about something at least.” she replied.
It then just struck me. Dumb, unordered and unarranged people can be expected to do anything. If something dumb refers to something that we find immature, it can also refer to something we never expect. SOMETHING DUMB CAN NEVER BE SOMETHING OBVIOUS. I think I missed that tiny little fact while preparing for my master plan.
“I can't believe my dumb HUSBAND shot me. How dumb can people be?” were my last lines before I left. I think I said the latter sentence not long ago. By the way, I did mention I was a female, didn't I?
Akhil Kakkar
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