“Suresh Devasahayam, B Tech in Industrial Engineering, 3rd year,” the Police inspector read as he flipped over my Id card.
“Yes, Sir, that’s me”
“Look, Suresh, I would like to hear every detail before I write anything on that damn FIR. So, speak up! What were two engineering students doing at odd hours so far away on the Cauvery Bridge?”
“Sir, Raghav is from St Thomas, B Com, 3rd year, I corrected
“Was” he retorted needlessly.
“Yesterday, Sir, at about 3 PM I got this SMS from Raghav. Midnight, on the bridge. Come alone. Everything was ok about that message, except the come alone. On earlier occasions, he used to send just midnight on the bridge and we would get excited”
“Excited for what? And who are we?” he enquired sternly.
“I and my roomies used to party with him under the Cauvery Bridge” Raghav chose starry Moonlight nights for such occasions and used to call this “Heaven’s Night Club”
“Also, the dope?”
“Sometimes, sir”, I admitted, for they had already retrieved the plastic pouch of “the stuff” from his pockets.
“Go on”
“15 minutes before midnight I arrived at Heaven’s Nightclub. It was unusually breezy for Trichy and one of the rare days when the river flowed bank to bank. I waited for him”
“At the stroke of midnight, a series of events were set in motion.”
The Chimes from Holy Cross Church started ringing. A train emerged on the bridge slowing as it passed the span. Raghav appeared on the sidewalk, puffing out circles of smoke and turned on a searchlight.
I lifted my palm half acknowledging my presence and half dodging the spotlight.
In one motion, he perched his torso on the railing with a cigarette still between his lips. A loud thud and splash. The Chimes stopped, the train vanished into the bushes, the moon cast upon Raghav’s face twice in the swirl of the whirlpool before it went down, and I screamed …….
“Is that all? So, Suicide it is, imagine any reason?” the inspector probed.
“No, Sir, I know nothing more, Raghav was always a positive kind of guy, can’t imagine he took his own life”
The Inspector opened a printout containing some transcripts. These are 4 SMS concerning the incident and I think you must know
  • Midnight, on the bridge. Come alone- Sent to you
  • Ok, but why alone- Sent by you
  • Can u- Sent to you
  • Ok, ll come-Sent by you
The inspector looked up at the transcript and said.
“The fourth message was sent to him before the above conversations”
It read “Raghav, u loser, u pervert, u queer, u lost it faggot, get the hell out of my life”. The sender is probably related to you. We traced it to one Sarah Devasahayam.
The constables were sealing the retrieved contents from the backpack of Raghav into a transparent zip lock bag.
I couldn’t miss the flashy paperback “They Both Die at the End” by Adam Silvera.

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