Dear Mr India
I know you are invisible, but I need to communicate with you anyway.
Today I learned how to commit the perfect murder. Our law and order system allows us to excel and get quite good at this.
First, I must make fancy friends and if possible marry into influence. Then I must choose my victim, and perform the deed. Getting rid of the body is no problem. We have many Made In India suitcase brands now. And I can always drive to a jungle and burn the body there. Better, I should choose a jungle where many bodies have been found before. Confusion is king in concealing evidence.
After the attempted destruction of DNA, I must come home, and pour myself some red wine. And perhaps plan my next dinner party. Most importantly, I must sack the driver who took me to the jungle. He would be too inconvenient to murder.
Next, I must plan the cover-up. Who are the big cops in town now? Ah. They must be entertained forthwith. Oh dear. Someone tried to file a missing person’s report about the person I killed? I will put on my best make-up and tell the police not to bother. I am a known person in the city, you see. They dare not defy me. Or I will have them transferred. I have money in the cupboard.