Let the dead body float in the river

Jurisdiction issues are probably the oldest and the most pertinent causes of heartburn amongst the field officers; a few chuckles too. Whatever the rank, from the top cop to the beat officer, every one is protective of their turf. Anyone stepping on their toes is looked at with enormous suspicion and dealt with a lot of calculated measures the like of which if ever used for investigation or detection would have tripled the conviction rate overnight. Well, actually that is just a moot point.

What, however, is a fact that many a line has been crossed in the pursuit of maintaining what belongs and what doesn’t. My first exposure to this was on an early end-of-winter morning by the banks of a river. As usual my training SP during the district practical training, called me a couple hours after I finished the earlier day’s shift (I wasn’t and am still not sure if I can call it a day’s shift or not. I was lucky if I got a couple of hours to sleep and some time to bathe and eat within 24 hours; I guess that makes it a day.

There is a distinct interest in the senior officers of the cadre to haze the newbie with so much work that there is just no time for anything else; call it like an initiation rite to see how much of it one can take.) As I was saying, my training SP called me and instructed me to go to a certain place, meet with the officer-in-charge of the PS as there was a floater. We are supposed to investigate a minimum number of cases during this phase of training, and this was supposed to be one. It turned out that I was somewhere close to the place I was instructed to go.

Dutifully I started for the place. Mind you, as a cop, this wasn’t going to be my first dead body. The maiden was in the forensic department at Hyderabad - a three day old female body with 95 per cent burns: dowry death. The overpowering stench, the pugilistic pose of the unfortunate lady, the sawing of the skull, the cracking open of the sternum, the extraction of the internal organs, the whole works will remain in my memory for ever. I tried to push all of this and all the other pictures of the dead shown to us during all the forensics classes at the academy as far away from my mind as possible during the drive. But the macabre was all, just like the proverbial mango, that I wasn’t supposed to think about but did. Never having studied biology beyond class ten, there was enough apprehension in my head about the impending blood and gore that day.

I am quite desensitised now, or so I believe. I do not cover my nose at the stench, like we have been taught at the academy. I can touch the body or the body parts, whatever we have at hand. I can examine the fingernails and other such parts where evidence may be hidden. I sometimes even forget to wash my hands afterwards, unless pointed out. I, when alone, do not remember how they look like anymore. On that morning however, I remembered every detail of the experience in Hyderabad. Soon enough I met up with the officer-in-charge on the banks of one of the biggest, most revered and widest rivers of the country. The sun was breaking through the thick blanket of fog that shrouded the river banks. There was the fresh smell of moisture in the cold nippy air. I asked him about the floater and he pointed to a spot on the river about 30 feet out in the water.

Frankly at that point, it only looked like a speck floating by. I mean no disrespect for the dead here. I had to look a little more closely to figure out further details. Being the sincere probationer, I quickly jotted down details of the village, composition of the population, the first to see the body etc. Probably about 15 minutes or so had elapsed since the SP had directed to come here. I took out my phone and was about to dial in to give him the details when the officer-in-charge told me to wait a little bit. In the meanwhile the corpse floated along the river.

I thought perhaps the man wanted to talk to me about getting a diving team or something as important. We did no such thing, except walk along the banks of the river as the body kept going downstream. Another ten minutes later the phone of the officer-in-charge rang. He picked it up and said “Hello sir”. The next words out of his mouth had my jaws dropping to the floor in astonishment. Here was the man who showed me how to spot a human form in the river and here was the same man reporting, “No sir. I have been here at the banks of the river, I am trying to locate the person who gave the information of the dead body in the water; but I have not been able to locate that informer, nor have I seen the body.”

Shocked at such blatant lies spewing from his mouth, I made a mental note to report this almost verbatim to the SP. “I am scouring the whole river, sir. Yes sir, IPS madam is right here with me. Yes sir, I will show madam how to do an inquest and complete formalities of the case. There is a lot of fog sir, and the current is strong. We are looking for the body. I shall call you as soon as we spot it.” I just started to ask the man something else when he got another call about some VIP transit in his area. That took another few minutes. By the time he was done with the call, he had walked away while I still followed the floating body. A few minutes later he came running and told me that we can now get back to the police station. I cleared my throat to ask about the body in the river, when the sound of his phone ringing cut me off. “Good morning sir. Yes sir, we have just spotted the body sir. However it is not in my jurisdiction sir. I have notified the officer-in-charge of that police station sir. He will be here shortly. I am taking madam and going back to the police station to prepare for security duty sir.”

My jaw dropped for the second time that morning as the penny dropped and understanding dawned on me. The man just waited for the UD case to literally float out of his jurisdiction into that of the next officer so that he could be saved the trouble of recovering the body from the river, registering a case, investigating it, filing papers, getting the post mortem conducted, identifying the victim and the whole works! What would an overworked policeman not do to reduce his burden?

Chuckling to myself, I learnt a valuable lesson in the field that day. A lesson that holds true even today. The old-timers really do know a lot and life’s lesson can only be learnt out in the open. How much and what jurisdiction will always be decided by the one who lady luck decides to favour; rest is all hanging on to the seat of the rollercoaster.