The policeman’s shoe screeched with every step that he took through the mess that lay all around in the bedroom. Each step that he took was careful enough so as to not disturb the existing pattern of the mess. But still he could not avoid stepping on and crushing a few glass pieces that lay all over like smithereens. These were from photo frames that had been brushed off from the top of the cupboards and the refrigerator in the adjacent hall. I followed him with the same cautious approach. “Who was the one who reported this theft to the police?” he asked in his baritone voice in Tamil. “It was Suresh who is the neighbour to this house Sir”, I replied while pondering on what could be his next question. “I would like to see him”, he mumbled.
His deep and inquisitive eyes continued to scan the room as I stepped out into the hall and tried calling Suresh on my mobile. He was not reachable. I reported this to the policeman. “Please ask him to meet me”, he said as he nodded and continued moving around with his probing eyes. “It appears to me that a group of thieves had executed the whole thing”, he said still looking down. The sad aspect of the location of the house was that it had a school on one side, an office building on the other side, a school ground on the rear side and a very large approach distance in front from the street. And so, the sound of any activity from within the house would not be easily heard by the neighbours.
The hall had all kinds of things on the floor flung from a cupboard that stood there all stripped. They were also several books, most of them lying open, that were thrown out from a book shelf from one of the rooms, The doors of the two bedrooms adjacent to the hall lay ajar with their locks almost pried out with a crowbar. On the dining table lay all the locks, some opened with their keys still on them and some broken. Bunches of keys lay beside them. It appeared as though the group of thieves had tried out the locks with different keys. They had used the same crowbar technique with the lock of the back door too, as the entry to the hall through the front side was through a door that had a secure padlock. The crowbar technique would not work here. It had to be broken open and that would create a lot of noise and attract attention. The thieves were probably too circumspect about this, although the house lay isolated. And in the midst of all this chaos, the framed photograph of Reginald’s mother, Aunt Mary, hung there intact.
This was the house of my classmate Reginald who had settled in the USA. Aunt Mary’s calm demeanour was really striking and it was as though she was unflustered by all that had happened. She had passed away only a few months back and David Uncle, Reginald’s father had left for the USA along with him to spend a few months there. Reginald had entrusted the keys of the house with me and I had made it a point to visit the place and open the house once every fortnight. Suresh, their neighbour had my mobile number and he had called me up that morning to communicate about the incident. Reginald had told me that all the valuables and important things had already been kept in the bank locker.
Two more police men arrived and they did forensic procedures on the spots where the thieves would have possibly made impressions. I stepped into the next bedroom along with the policeman. Suresh had called up and communicated about what happened to Reginald that morning. The only worry now for Reginald was about the extensive damage that the thieves had inflicted on the house. Inside the bedroom I noticed something very peculiar. There were at least 20 jewelry pouches and boxes that had been opened and the colour tissue papers inside each of these had been taken and thrown out too. These were there all over the room. David Uncle also had several leather purses and pouches and each of these had been opened up and the contents emptied onto the bed and to the floor. The steel cupboard in that room had been broken open and all the files and folders had been taken out and thrown all over the floor. In the next room, they had opened all the loft doors and pulled out the briefcases and bags kept there and left them on the floor too.
It appeared to me that they had very clear objectives and that was only to get hold of either money or gold, but they had got nothing as there was nothing. David Uncle had probably tested their patience with all the seemingly full and valuable jewellery purses and pouches, that they became frustrated as time ticked by. And towards the last stage of their performance, they became more or less like psychopaths in a violent dance, pulling everything out and mercilessly breaking and flinging them all over the floor in revenge.
Reginald called again and this time,
checked with me room by room and all the things in them, item by item. Everything
was there, only that many were in pieces and others a little damaged. I
informed the policeman about it and he along with the two forensic analysts, left
after telling me to ask Suresh to meet him at the police station. It was
obvious that the police did not have anything great to retrieve from the thief
and they did not have the burning desire either to chase a thief who had taken
nothing but just ripped up a house.
While I continued with Reginald on the
call, I told him about a large plastic cover full with six new branded shirts
that I had spotted in one of the bedrooms. Reginald had no idea as to how it
had come into the house. He checked with David Uncle and he too had no clue. I
could not believe that the shirts could be that new as though straight from a
shop. “Take it with you. Try it out. If it fits you, use it or give it to
someone for whom it will work fine”, said Reginald with a laughter that had a
tinge of despondency in it.
I left the place after locking the house and
reached home. I left the shirts in a corner of my wardrobe. It
remained there for months and one day when I was in need of shirts, I thought I
should try them out. What happened is something I cannot believe even today.
Each shirt fit me so well. I used each one of them for important occasions as
they were too good. I told myself that the shirts were left behind by the
thieves in their moments of frustration. They had probably lifted it from
somewhere else and then come into Reginald’s house. It was ironical that a
set of shirts so new came as a gift to me from a house that was stripped apart and left in a mess by the thieves. I still see it as a gift from the thieves.
