Poster Man
A man whom everyone knows but knows nothing about him.
The police are looking for a man named Billy Thompson. It has been months since they have been on it. Every major point in the city has his wanted posters hanging on the wall, posts, and where not. The man is now known to the masses as "Poster Man". Social media is filled with pictures of this man, but the thing is, no one knows for sure who he is. Everyone knows his face.
One time, police got a call from a man in a Manhattan downtown area who said he saw the man in a coffee shop. They responded as quickly as they could, but it was an unsuccessful attempt and it was because he vanished before the police could even catch the tail of him. After that, they gave up looking him for. No one in the department has been intelligent enough to catch the fugitive.
On a beautiful Sunday morning, a senior officer at NYPD was having his coffee at the Balcony. The birds are chirping like they are singing in a melodious tone. The streets are quiet till now as everyone might be sleeping till now. He was casually enjoying his morning coffee when a poster grabbed his eye and it was, yes, you guessed it right, it's the "Poster Man" who is very much known to the eyes of the people but very much unknown about his true identity. He thought to himself, "Ah, that culprit!". Although he doesn't want to ruin his perfect morning by thinking of that man. But his mind is just running to the end of the tunnel where this mystery ends. He picked up his notepad from the tabletop and started to write down every clue he had about the case.
Around 9 a.m., He goes out to the office. On other days, he might not be so eager to arrive at the office but today is different as he now wants to solve a puzzle that no one has ever gotten to the end. He calls Officer Nick who was the lead for this case and knows more than anyone about this fugitive. Officer Nick comes to his office:
"Jim told me you have been looking for me."
"Yes"
"Well, I want details on something"
"Something what?" Nick said.
"Poster man" Norton responded. "I would like to have his records."
"Why? We have searched for him for a long and found no luck, you want to go down that path again. Do you think you can crack this case and give us an answer? Nick asked him.
"I think I can, at least that's what my mind is saying, doesn't matter if the brain agrees with it or not."
"I was also thinking like that when I was working on that case but you know, what's the result!" Nick said in a refusing manner.
"Nick, you know me. Just believe me, we'll get to the end." Norton said with an enthusiastic voice.
After having a long debate, Nick gave up and confirmed that he would send the files to Norton.
It's now afternoon, and Norton has been going through some files. However, he hasn't found any interesting evidence to suggest where to look for the alleged man. Norton needs to take a break for lunch, and he left the files open. After about half an hour, he came back to his office. He went through the rest of the files one by one and jotted down any promising details on the notepad that caught his eye. By the time he finished up, the sun had gone a long ago. If we take a look at his notepad, we can see:
- The man is about six feet tall.
- He was recognized in the community where he was living.
- Some images of him.
But Something wasn't adding up. Active 1: But something wasn't adding up, if he was known in the community and his family had lived there till now, how could nobody track him down? Norton decided to go to the place to talk to his family. While talking to them, Norton can see in their looks that they are not worried and that it is the answer to the whole equation. The man has had plastic surgery on his face and no one can recognize him but who of those people is the alleged "Poster man"? No one knows, some answers are better kept secret.
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He Confessed to a Crime He Didn’t Commit
M Mehran The confession came at 4:46 a.m. Detective Ayaan Sheikh stared at the recording screen as the man across the table folded his hands and said calmly, “I killed her.” No hesitation. No trembling voice. No lawyer. That alone made it strange. The accused was Bilal Hassan, a 29-year-old school teacher with no criminal record, no history of violence, and no clear motive. Yet here he was, confessing to the murder of Sana Mir—one of the most high-profile cases the city had seen in years. In criminal investigations, confessions are supposed to bring relief. This one brought questions. The Body by the River Sana Mir’s body was found near the riverbank, wrapped in a white dupatta, hands folded neatly over her chest. There were no defensive wounds, no signs of struggle. The autopsy revealed death by poisoning—slow, deliberate, and personal. Sana wasn’t just anyone. She was a popular investigative journalist known for exposing corruption and organized crime. She had received threats before. Many. Bilal Hassan was not on that list. According to CCTV footage, Bilal was seen near the river that night. His fingerprints were found on Sana’s phone. The evidence lined up neatly—too neatly. Criminal cases are rarely that generous. A Confession That Didn’t Fit During interrogation, Bilal repeated the same line again and again. “I poisoned her tea. I walked with her to the river. I watched her die.” But when Ayaan asked details—what poison, how much, where he got it—Bilal’s answers became vague. “I don’t remember,” he said softly. “I just know I did it.” People who commit murder remember something. Fear. Anger. Regret. Bilal remembered none of it. The Forgotten Connection Digging into Bilal’s past, Ayaan discovered something buried deep—a connection from seven years ago. Sana Mir had once written a small article about a private school accused of covering up student abuse. The case disappeared within weeks. No arrests. No follow-up. Bilal had been a student there. When Ayaan visited Bilal’s old neighborhood, he met Bilal’s younger sister, Hira. Her eyes hardened when Sana’s name was mentioned. “She destroyed nothing,” Hira said bitterly. “She exposed it—and then she walked away.” That night, Ayaan reread Sana’s old notes recovered from her laptop. One line stood out: “The real criminal isn’t always the one who commits the crime—but the one who makes others carry it.” The Second Voice The breakthrough came unexpectedly. A prison psychiatrist requested a meeting. “Bilal isn’t lying,” she said. “But he isn’t telling the truth either.” Bilal suffered from dissociative identity disorder, triggered by unresolved childhood trauma. Under extreme psychological stress, another personality emerged—one that accepted blame easily. But DID doesn’t create murderers. It creates victims. Someone had manipulated Bilal—fed him a story, planted memories, pushed him to confess. The question was: who? The Man Behind the Curtain Ayaan returned to Sana’s final investigations. One name appeared repeatedly but never publicly—Rashid Kamal, a powerful education board official with deep political connections. The same man who shut down the abuse investigation years ago. Sana had been working on a follow-up story. One that could end Rashid’s career. Phone records revealed Rashid had met Sana two days before her death. He had also visited Bilal’s neighborhood that same week. Rashid didn’t poison Sana. He did something worse. He convinced Bilal that he had. Using fear, guilt, and carefully planted information, Rashid recreated the night of the murder inside Bilal’s fractured mind. He knew Bilal would confess—and the case would close quickly. In criminal psychology, it’s called manufactured guilt. And it works frighteningly well. The Truth Breaks Free Confronted with evidence, Rashid denied everything—until Ayaan played the final recording. Sana’s hidden audio file. “I know what you did,” her voice echoed. “And if something happens to me, your name goes public.” Rashid panicked. He poisoned Sana himself—then created a scapegoat. The case reopened. Rashid Kamal was arrested on charges of murder, manipulation, and obstruction of justice. The media erupted. Protests followed. Bilal Hassan was released after six months in prison. Six months stolen from an innocent man. The Weight of a False Confession Before leaving the station, Bilal looked at Ayaan and asked, “Why did I believe it so easily?” Ayaan had no easy answer. Because guilt is heavier than truth. Because criminals don’t always use weapons—sometimes they use minds. As the city moved on to the next headline, Ayaan filed the case under a personal category he never spoke about. Crimes where the real damage can’t be measured by law. Because Sana Mir was dead. Bilal Hassan was broken. And Rashid Kamal was only one man among many who knew how to hide behind power. In the end, the most terrifying criminal wasn’t the killer— It was the one who convinced someone else to carry the sin.
By Muhammad Mehran4 days ago in Criminal
Comments (1)
Why ending needs to be like that?