Also by Rozlan Mohd Noor
21 Immortals: Inspector Mislan and the Yee Sang Murders
DUKE: Inspector Mislan and the Expressway Murders
Copyright © 2012, 2021 by Rozlan Mohd Noor
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any manner without the express written consent of the publisher, except in the case of brief excerpts in critical reviews or articles. All inquiries should be addressed to Arcade Publishing, 307 West 36th Street, 11th Floor, New York, NY 10018.
First North American Edition
This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is available on file.
Library of Congress Control Number: 2021933409
Cover design by Erin Seaward-Hiatt
Cover photograph: © George Pachantouris/Getty Images
ISBN: 978-1-950691-42-5
Ebook ISBN: 978-1-951627-92-8
Printed in the United States of America
To my children,
Reyza, Reeze, Reeziana, and Daniel:
I can provide you with education, but you will have to seek wisdom on your own.
“Self-righteousness belongs to the narrow-minded.”
Toba Beta, My Ancestor Was an Ancient Astronaut
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
Chapter 58
Chapter 59
Chapter 60
Chapter 61
Chapter 62
Chapter 63
Chapter 64
Chapter 65
Chapter 66
Chapter 67
Chapter 68
Chapter 69
Chapter 70
1
INSPECTOR SHARIFAH AZLINA SYED Abdullah, who prefers to be called Sherry, and Detective Deena Sofea Azman from the Sexual & Child Abuse Investigation Division, D11, arrive at Putra Ria Condominium, Pantai Dalam, Kuala Lumpur. A little earlier, they had been informed that Brickfields District Police Headquarters had received report of a rape under Section 376 of the Penal Code. The complainant identified herself as Era Amilia from unit 901 of Putra Ria Condominium. Rape cases are treated as special cases and investigated by D11 officers, who are trained to handle victims’ sensitivity and emotional trauma.
Standing outside unit 901, Sherry looks for the doorbell. Not finding one, she knocks on the door and waits. When there is no response, she looks at her wristwatch. It is 2:11 a.m. She knocks again a little harder and calls out.
“Miss Era, I’m Inspector Sherry from KL police.”
Instantly, she hears the dead bolt click and observes the doorknob turning. Sherry doesn’t see a peephole; Era must have been standing behind the door when she first knocked but didn’t dare open it until she identified herself as a police officer. The door opens just a crack to reveal a terrified pair of red, puffy eyes peering at her. Sherry holds up her authority card.
“Miss Era, I’m Inspector Sherry, and this is Detective Deena,” Sherry repeats. “May we come in?”
The door opens wider, and Sherry takes that as an invitation to enter. Era turns from the door, walking to the living room without uttering a word. The D11 officers close the door behind them and follow her into the living room. Era is in her early thirties, about five feet tall, not glamorously beautiful but pleasant-looking. She is slim, of fair complexion, with wavy, shoulder-length black hair with a streak of light brown on the right side. She is in a bathrobe and her hair is wet, most likely from a shower.
Showering after being sexually violated is a very common reaction among victims. The need to wash away the nauseating feeling of being physically and emotionally desecrated, to wash away the smell of the perpetrator. But to rape investigators, the act of showering immediately after the incident is like washing away crucial physical evidence. Though dismayed, Sherry says nothing.
Era sits on the edge of the three-seat sofa with her arms folded across her chest, tightly hugging herself while absentmindedly rocking back and forth. Back and forth. Her chin presses to her chest, her eyes fixed on the floor. Sherry believes she has already forgotten their presence. With eye gestures, Sherry tells her detective to move slowly so as not to startle her, and they sit at the sofa with the victim.
“Miss Era, we received a call saying you were raped,” Sherry says as calmly as she can.
Era stops rocking. She gives the slightest of nods without lifting her head or looking at the inspector.
“Can you tell us what happened?”
The rocking stops and Era remains still, stiff.
The officers wait patiently as she starts rocking again. Now and then she shakes her head as if she is saying no to something playing in her head. Her damp, uncombed hair sways rhythmically with the head shakes. Sherry recognizes the behavior pattern as one of the signs of rape trauma syndrome, RTS. The involuntary rocking, shaking of the head, the distressed manner, and the long silences in between statements are indicative of the disorientation, disbelief, and shame from being sexually violated.
“Last night, I thought I finally had it all,” Era eventually mumbles. Her voice is so soft that the two officers have to lean closer. “Two years … for two years I slogged, day and night. I had …” She stops mid-sentence.
Not knowing what she was mumbling about, the two officers look at each other.
Era stops rocking and says, “They took a video.”
“I’m sorry, what did you say?”
“They video-recorded the whole thing, what’re they going to do with it?” she asks, angrily. “Why did they video it?” She stares intently at Inspector Sherry.
“Did they use their cell phones?”
<
br /> “No, not phone, they used a video cam.”
The officers exchange a quick glance.
“You said they, how many of them were there?”
“Two.”
“Can you tell us what they did?”
“His hands were pale … cold,” she stammers.
Sherry notes Era shivering and tightening her hug. She knows the memory is vividly playing in her head.
“Was he wearing surgical gloves?” Sherry asks.
Era looks at her, her eyes blank, not grasping the inspector’s question.
“He had a knife. He told me to do as I was told, or he’d practice his carving skills on my face and slit my throat,” she says, almost in a whisper. She shivers again before continuing, “I begged him to take all my money, but I could see him smiling through the pantyhose covering his face.”
“What did he want you to do?”
Era reverts to staring at the floor. Sherry notices she is biting her lower lip to stop it from quivering. Sherry prepares herself, expecting the victim to break down.
“He told me to take off my panties and bra.” Era pauses, taking a deep breath. “When I pleaded with him again, he cut my bra straps, and then my panties, saying he’s going to free me.” She lifts her head to look at the officers. Her face contorts into an expression of questioning and confusion.
“Free you?” Sherry says. “I don’t understand.”
Era nods. “Yes, free me, that’s what he said.”
“You mean, he’ll free you after you do what he wants?”
“No, he didn’t say that … He said he’s going to free me.”
“OK, I’m not clear, we’ll talk about it again. Then what happened?”
“Then he raped me.”
“You mean they raped you?”
“No, he raped me … the one who said he was going to free me. The other one recorded it.”
“And the one videoing the incident did not rape you?”
Era shakes her head.
“While he was,” Era could not bring herself to say the word, “he kept whispering in my ear, asking me, how does it feel, is it nice, do I like it. It was sickening.”
The two D11 officers do not know how to respond.
“I shut my eyes and he told me to open them and look at him. He told me to enjoy it and I’ll be free,” Era continues, her body trembling with disgust and anger. “Then he said he wanted me to come and experience the true pleasure of sex. Disgusting.”
“‘Come’ as in climax?”
Era nods.
“Where did this take place?”
Era indicates to the bedroom with her head. “In there.”
“Miss Era, I need to call Crime Forensics to process your bedroom, and I’ll have to take you to the hospital for examinations. Is there anyone I can call on your behalf?”
Era shakes her head.
“How about your apartment, is there anyone I can call to look after it?”
Again she shakes her head.
“OK, Detective Deena will lock up after Forensics is done, and she will return the keys to you.” Sherry reads Era’s face for her understanding and agreement. “Can you show me where the keys are?”
Era motions toward the dining table.
“I need you to do one more thing for me before we go to a hospital. Can you point out to me the clothes you were wearing when you were sexually assaulted?”
With effort Era pushes herself from the sofa and wobbles to her feet. Deena jumps forward to steady her.
“Are you OK?” she asks, holding Era’s arm.
Era nods and manages a “thank you” with her eyes. Deena holds on to her as Era takes shaky steps toward the bedroom. At the door, Era hesitates and leans on the door frame, breathing heavily.
“It’s all right. Take your time,” Sherry says, standing next to her.
“I can’t,” she cries, and dashes back to the sofa. Sitting on the edge of the seat, she bends over, cups her face, and sobs, “I’m sorry, I can’t go in there. I’m sorry.”
“It’s OK, we understand,” Deena comforts her. “It’s OK.”
2
THERE’S A KNOCK ON the front door. Era warily turn her head, glaring at the door. Her eyes are unblinking and her body stiffens. Sherry signals for Deena to answer the door, and she moves next to the victim. She tells her it must be the Crime Forensics team. They’re here to collect whatever evidence they can from the scene. Deena turns to Sherry for her approval before opening the door.
“Hi,” Inspector Kevin Foo greets her.
Returning his greeting, she says, “Inspector Sherry is with the victim.”
Seeing Kevin’s team approaching, Sherry excuses herself, telling Era she needs to speak to the officer in charge. She meets them halfway and pulls Kevin aside.
“Kev, the victim is too traumatized to be of much help. She says she was raped in her bedroom. I don’t see any sign of forced entry, but I need you to take a closer look while I take her to the hospital. Deena will be here to lock up after you’re done. Kev, can you bag her hands first?”
Kevin looks at Era on the sofa.
“Look like she’s bathed, so I don’t think you’ll get anything. Externally at least, all transfers would’ve been washed away.”
“No harm in trying. Anyway, it’s procedural.”
“OK.”
Sherry introduces the head of Crime Forensics to the victim.
“Miss Era, this is Inspector Kevin Foo. He’ll be placing plastic bags over both your hands to protect any evidence that might still be there.”
Era nods without looking up. But when Kevin reaches for her right hand, she instantly pulls it away and with a throaty voice cries, “Get away from me!”
Sherry steps in between them and whispers to Kevin, “It’s because of your gloves.”
Kevin looks at her uncomprehendingly.
“The rapist wore surgical gloves,” she explains.
“Oh.”
Turning to the victim, Sherry says, “It’s OK, Miss Era. Kevin’s not going to hurt you. He has to wear gloves so as not to contaminate any forensic evidence on your hands.”
Era starts crying, mumbling repeatedly, “Sorry, I’m sorry.”
“Do you want me to do it?” Sherry asks.
Era nods. “Please,” she pleads meekly.
Sherry snaps on a pair of latex gloves, takes the plastic bags from Kevin, and kneels in front of the victim.
“Miss Era, I’m going to put these plastic bags over your hands and tape them at your wrists. It’s not going to hurt, OK?”
Era nods and holds out her hands.
Sherry touches the victim’s right hand lightly with her gloved fingers, half expecting her to retract it. When she doesn’t, Sherry carefully places the plastic bags over both hands and secures them around the wrists with adhesive tape. She signals to Kevin Foo to start his examination and gently leads the zombielike Era to the front door. Turning to Deena, she says, “Be sure to bring her handbag, phone, and pack an overnight bag with a few toiletries and a change of clothes. Don’t forget to lock up properly.”
As she slowly walks the victim to the front door, it occurs to Sherry that Era might get flustered when she realizes she’s being taken for an invasive medical examination. Sherry could get a mobile patrol vehicle (MPV) to take her to the hospital, but she’s not sure how the victim would react on seeing a police vehicle. It might be a trigger that could shatter her emotionally. On the other hand, Sherry is alone and, should the victim behave erratically, she might not be able to handle the situation. Though she believes she has gained the victim’s trust, with a traumatized victim one never knows what to expect. At the door, she beckons to Detective Deena.
“Best if you come with us. After dropping us, you come back here and get Era’s things.”
“OK, let me inform Inspector Kevin.”
Sherry sits in the back with Era while Deena drives. Leaving the condominium, they head for the affluent Bangsar suburb of Kua
la Lumpur. Housing estates lined with bungalows and semidetached houses with price tags running into the millions, favored by wealthy locals and foreigners alike. From there they hit Jalan Kuching and go on to Jalan Pahang. The eight-mile trip takes them thirteen minutes. Detective Deena drops them off at the Kuala Lumpur Hospital Emergency and Trauma Center.
The E & T is busiest at night and early morning, as all government clinics are closed after office hours. The public has no choice but to go to hospital E & Ts for treatment.
Sherry flashes her authority card to the attendants gathered around the registration counter. She tells one of them to get a wheelchair for the victim, who is starting to look jittery. Era’s steps are heavy and her eyes wild, darting around at the milling crowd, the constant flow of ambulances, and the casualties being dropped off. Letting her sit in a wheelchair will hopefully make her feel more at ease. Sitting would allow her to shut off everything around her by covering her face with her hands.
After registering the victim, Sherry follows the attendant wheeling her to examination room 2. Once they’re by themselves in the examination room, she observes the victim start to relax and drop her hands to her sides. Sherry explains that a doctor will be examining her and will collect any physical evidence that may be on her. Era doesn’t say anything; she just stares at her feet on the footrest. Sherry hears a woman’s voice saying, “They’re in room 2,” and she steps out.
“Hi, Doc,” she greets Dr. Geetha.
“Inspector Sherry, how have you been? Haven’t seen you for quite a while.”
“Usual-lah, Doc.”
“This isn’t a good sign,” Dr. Geetha says.
Sherry looks at the doctor questioningly.
“You escorting the victim yourself, that’s not a good sign. Normally, a detective would escort the victim.”
Sherry nods. “This victim’s displaying signs of post-rape trauma, so I thought I’d better stick around to make sure she feels safe.”
“See, now I’m a psychic,” Dr. Geetha says smilingly. “What happened?”
“I haven’t taken her statement yet, but she says she was raped and the whole thing was recorded.”
“Videoed?”
“Yes.”
“Sickening. I hope there’s a law to castrate the bastards.”
“Maybe when a woman becomes prime minister,” Sherry says with a tight smile. “Who is the GYN on duty?”
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