“And you were in here when the window broke?”
The maid picked up a leather-bound book. “I was reading my Bible,” she said.
“You didn’t hear the window break? Or the scream?”
She put the Bible down on a small stool next to her bed. “No,” she said.
“But you heard Mrs. Kwan shouting?”
The maid frowned as she tried to remember. “I don’t think I heard her in the hallway but I heard Ma’am shouting when she came into the kitchen,” she said eventually.
“Mrs. Kwan came here? You didn’t go out to see what was happening?”
“Yes. She wanted to know where I was. She said that something had happened to Sir.”
“She said that? She said something had happened to her husband?”
The maid frowned again. “I’m not sure,” she said. “Maybe Ma’am said she had heard glass breaking. I’m sorry. It was all very frantic.”
“I’m sure it was,” said the inspector. “So what happened then?”
“Ma’am told me to go with her. She took me and Dr. Mayang out of the kitchen door and out into the garden. That was when we saw that the window had been broken. We could see Sir in his chair. Ma’am rushed over to him and then she screamed that he was dead.”
“You saw Dr. Kwan in his chair? Are you sure? Think carefully, Chanel.”
The maid frowned and then shook her head. “No, of course, we couldn’t see anything from the terrace. It was only when we went inside that we saw the body.”
“And were the French windows open? Or closed?”
“Closed. Definitely closed.”
“And did you see anyone else in the garden?”
The maid shook her head and dabbed at her eyes again.
“And who called the police?”
“Dr. Mayang. She used her mobile phone.”
“Did you call for an ambulance?”
The maid frowned. “No. No, I didn’t.”
“I thought that Mrs. Kwan told you to call for an ambulance?”
The maid nodded quickly. “Oh yes, sir, she did. But then Dr. Mayang said that an ambulance wouldn’t be necessary.”
“Had Dr. and Mrs. Kwan being arguing at all?” asked the inspector. “Had they been fighting over the past day or two?”
“They didn’t argue,” she said. “They didn’t speak. You know they were divorcing?”
Inspector Zhang nodded. “Yes, I heard that.”
“I don’t understand how couples can divorce,” she said. “You marry for life, for better or worse, until death do you part.” She took a deep breath and then sighed. “My husband died five years ago. Cancer.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” said the inspector.
“Now I have to work in Singapore to make money for my children,” she said. “I need this job, Inspector. Ma’am won’t sack me, will she?”
“I don’t see why she would,” said Inspector Zhang. He stood up and thanked her before heading back to the sitting room. Sergeant Lee was waiting for him in the hallway. “What did Meteorological Services say?” he asked her
The sergeant looked at her notebook. “There were two showers,” she said. “The first started at two-forty-six and finished at three-thirteen. The second shower started at five-fifteen this evening and finished at five-forty-two.”
“And that was all? Just the two showers?”
“Just the two,” she said.
The inspector smiled. “Then we have our murderer,” he whispered.
“We do?” asked the sergeant.
The inspector’s smile widened. “Oh yes, most definitely,” he said.
He walked across the room to the sofa where the two women were sitting.
“Are we done yet?” asked Mrs. Kwan, pointedly looking at her watch.
“Almost,” said Inspector Zhang.
Sergeant Lee came into the room, putting her notepad into her handbag.
“I really must insist that you leave us now, Inspector,” said Mrs. Kwan. “There are funeral arrangements to be arranged, I have to talk to the people who run our clinics. My husband’s death is going to cause a lot of problems.”
“I’m sure that’s true,” said the inspector. “Perhaps you would be good enough to join me in your husband’s study.”
Mrs. Kwan and Dr. Mayang both got to their feet but Inspector Zhang waved a hand at the doctor. “There’s no need for us to bother you, Dr. Mayang,” he said. The doctor sat back on the sofa.
The forensic investigator was kneeling down in front of the body and he looked up as the inspector walked in.
“Have you dusted the handle of the knife for fingerprints, Mr. Yuen?” asked Inspector Zhang.
“I have, but it’s clean,” said the investigator. “The killer must have been wearing gloves.”
“I think not,” said the inspector. He walked over to the side table next to Dr. Kwan’s chair and picked up a CD case. It was jazz, a collection of songs by Ella Fitzgerald. “Your husband was a fan of jazz?” he asked Mrs. Kwan.
Mrs. Kwan nodded. “I hated it. That was why he used his headphones.”
“That was considerate of him,” said Inspector Zhang.
“It had nothing to do with consideration,” said Mrs. Kwan. “He used to play his music at full volume all evening until the judge told him to stop. Now if he plays music through the speakers he has to appear in court.”
Inspector Zhang opened the CD case. There was a CD inside. “Ah, so he wasn’t listening to Ella Fitzgerald. That’s interesting.”
Mrs. Kwan’s face tightened.
“I wonder what he was listening to?” said the inspector. He put the case back on the side table. He walked over to the stereo system and ran his finger along a row of CDs. “They all seem to be in place,” he said. “The Ella Fitzgerald is the only case out. So I wonder what the good doctor was listening to?”
He turned to look at Mrs. Kwan. Her face was ashen and she was fiddling with her wedding ring. “Inspector Zhang, please …” she said.
“It would be better if you confessed now and at least showed some remorse,” said the inspector. “The longer you allow this to go on, the worse it will be for you.”
Dr. Mayang appeared in the doorway. “What is going on?” she asked. The uniformed officer was standing behind her, his arms folded.
“I am about to arrest Mrs. Kwan for the murder of her husband,” said Inspector Zhang.
“That is nonsense,” said the doctor. “I was with her when her husband was attacked. We were both in the sitting room when we heard the glass smash and him scream.”
“Both those statements are true,” said the inspector. “But that does not make her less of a murderer.” He frowned. “Or murderess, I suppose I should say.”
“Inspector Zhang, it would have physically impossible for Mrs. Kwan to have been in two places at the same time.” She looked over at Mrs. Kwan. “Don’t worry, Elsie, I shall be a witness for you. This is ridiculous.”
Tears were welling up in Mrs. Kwan’s eyes.
“Yes, you will indeed be a witness, Dr. Mayang,” said Inspector Zhang. “A witness to Mrs. Kwan murdering her husband.”
“How can you say that, Inspector Zhang? Mrs. Kwan was with me in the sitting room when her husband was killed.”
“That is what she wanted you to think, Dr. Mayang. In fact Mrs. Kwan went to a great deal of trouble to make it seem that she was drinking wine with you when her husband died. But that’s not what actually happened. Is it, Mrs. Kwan?”
Mrs. Kwan said nothing.
“Very well,” said Inspector Zhang. “There were two things I immediately noticed about the stereo,” he said to Dr. Mayang. He pointed at the headphones that were still on Dr. Kwan’s head. “The headphones were unplugged.”
“The plug could have come out during the struggle,” said Dr. Mayang.
“Except there was no struggle,” said Inspector Zhang. “Dr. Kwan died where he sat, killed with one blow to the heart. There were no defensiv
e wounds, so there was no struggle.”
Dr. Mayang frowned as she stared at the headphone cable on the wooden floor.
“The second thing I noticed was that the volume dial was turned full on.” He pointed at the dial. “That seemed unusual as it would have been deafening through the headphones. Until of course I realised that Dr. Kwan wasn’t in fact listening to music when he was killed.” He pressed the eject button on the CD player and there was a click and a whirr before the CD was ejected. Inspector Zhang took it out and held it up for them all to see. “This is not a commercial music CD,” he said. “It is a data storage CD. And I am certain that it contains no music at all.” He re-inserted the CD and pressed play. “I am also certain that most of the CD is blank. The first forty-five minutes or so, at least.” He used the fast-forward function to skip through the early section of the CD, then pressed the play button. “If I am correct, there are only two things on this CD. Let us see.” He folded his arms and waited. Everyone in the room was now staring at the CD player.
The seconds ticked by and Inspector Zhang began to worry that he had been mistaken. But suddenly there was a loud crash through the speakers that made them all flinch. Three seconds later there was a blood-curdling scream. Inspector Zhang smiled and pressed the stop button.
Mrs. Kwan slumped to the floor and Dr. Mayang hurried over to her. The doctor helped Mrs. Kwan over to a sofa and she sat there, sobbing.
“I don’t understand,” said Dr. Mayang.
“It is simple enough,” said Inspector Zhang. “When you and Mrs. Kwan were in the sitting room drinking wine and eating snacks, you did not hear the window break or Dr. Kwan scream. You heard a recording, played at full volume over the stereo.”
“But what was Dr. Kwan doing?” asked Dr. Mayang.
“He was asleep,” said Inspector Zhang.
“Asleep?”
“Mrs. Kwan had drugged her husband,” said Inspector Zhang. “Probably using the sleeping tablets that you had prescribed for her. I am assuming she put them into the tea that the maid took to Mr. Kwan. Then, when she was sure that he was drugged, she went around to the garden and broke the window. To make sure that she wasn’t heard, I believe she used some sticky plastic to stick on the glass before she broke it. The only sound would be a dull crack, She then pulled the glass pieces off the plastic and placed them on the floor. I believe that she then pulled the headphones out of the stereo, turned the volume to maximum and placed the CD that she had made earlier into the CD player.”
“How did she make the CD?” asked Dr. Mayang.
“It is not difficult,” said Inspector Zhang. “The sound files can be downloaded from the internet and then burned onto a CD. The important thing was the timing. She had to time the sound effects so that they would be heard at the exact moment you and she were in the sitting room.”
Dr. Mayang stared at Mrs. Kwan in horror. “Elsie, is this true?”
“You don’t understand,” sobbed Mrs. Kwan. “I had no choice. He was killing me. My nerves, you know the state my nerves are in. I couldn’t go on. I couldn’t. I had to do something.”
“So you killed him,” said Inspector Zhang. “You came around to the French windows and went inside while Dr. Mayang and the maid remained on the terrace. You hurried over to Dr. Kwan, bent over him, and you plunged the knife into his heart. You concealed the knife in one of the pockets of your suit, and you held it with your handkerchief so that your fingerprints would not be on the handle. You were a nurse, you knew exactly how to inflict a fatal wound. Then Dr. Mayang came over in time to see Dr. Kwan take his last breath. Dr. Mayang was able to confirm that Dr. Kwan had been only recently stabbed. Of course Dr. Mayang assumed that the killer had only just fled, little did she know that the murderer was Mrs. Kwan herself.”
He nodded at the uniformed officer. He went over to Mrs. Kwan, took her arm, and led her out of the study. Dr. Mayang followed.
“What made you first suspect that the break-in was staged?” asked Sergeant Lee. “Everything suggested that someone had broken in from the outside.”
“Indeed,” said the Inspector. “The glass was inside the house, as it should have been. But when I touched it, I noticed that some pieces stuck to my fingers.”
Sergeant Lee nodded. “Yes, I remember that.”
“That made me think, how could the glass have become sticky? Then I realised that there was something on the glass that had made it sticky. Some sort of adhesive. Perhaps from some sort of plastic sheeting that had been applied to the window before it had been broken.”
“But why would anyone do that?”
“So that the glass could be broken silently,” said Inspector Zhang. “Then the pieces of glass could be picked off the plastic and placed on the floor. But the question then was how could she do that with Dr. Kwan in the room. That’s when I realised that Dr. Kwan must have been drugged. And of course Mrs. Kwan used to be a nurse so she would have known exactly how much medication to give him.”
Sergeant Lee frowned. “But why didn’t Mrs. Kwan kill her husband then? She could have simply discovered the body later.”
“Because it was important that the doctor was there to testify that the body has only just been killed, that Mr. Kwan had been stabbed while Mrs. Kwan was drinking wine with Dr. Mayang. And that brings me on to the rain. I asked you to check the time that the rain started and finished today. Do you recall?”
“Of course,” said the sergeant. She flicked through her notepad. “The second rain shower started at five-fifteen this evening and finished at five-forty-two.” She looked up from her notepad. “It was a brief shower.”
“Indeed it was,” said Inspector Zhang. “Just twenty-seven minutes in fact. And you remember that the wooden floor was wet from the rain that had come in from the broken window?”
Sergeant Lee nodded.
“And what time was the body discovered?”
Sergeant Lee studied her notebook carefully before answering. “Twenty past six,” she said. Her eyes widened. “Of course,” she said.
Inspector Zhang beamed, pleased that she had worked it out for herself. He waited for her to continue.
“The rain had stopped before Dr. Mayang heard the sound of breaking glass.”
“Exactly,” said Inspector Zhang.
“The body was discovered at twenty minutes past six, so they heard the window breaking shortly before that,” said Sergeant Lee. “A minute or two at most. But it wasn’t raining then. The rain had stopped. So it would have been impossible for rain to have blown into the room.” She was speaking so quickly in her excitement that the words were almost running into each other. “But there were raindrops on the wooden floor which meant that the window had to have been broken sometime before the rain had stopped at five forty-two.” She snapped her notebook shut. She smiled over at the inspector. “Well one thing is for sure, Inspector Zhang. I shall never complain about the monsoon season again.”
“Indeed,” said the inspector. “It really is the case that every cloud has a silver lining.”
More books by Stephen Leather
BANGKOK BOB AND THE MISSING MORMON
Long-term Bangkok resident and former New Orleans cop Bob Turtledove has a knack for getting people out of difficult situations. So when a young man from Utah goes missing in Bangkok, his parents are soon knocking on Bob’s door asking for help. But what starts out as a simple missing person case takes a deadly turn as Bangkok Bob’s search for the missing Mormon brings him up against Russian gangsters, hired killers, corrupt cops and kickboxing thugs. And he learns that even in the Land of Smiles, people can have murder on their minds.
CONFESSIONS OF A BANGKOK PRIVATE EYE
For more than a decade Olson walked the mean streets of the Big Mango. Fluent in Thai and Khmer, he was able to go where other Private Eyes feared to tread. His clients included Westerners who had lost their hearts—and life savings—to money-hungry bargirls. But he had more than his fair share of Thai clients, too, includin
g a sweet old lady who was ripped off by a Christian conman and a Thai girl blackmailed by a former lover. The stories are based on Olson’s case files, retold by bestselling author Stephen Leather.
PRIVATE DANCER
Thailand, 1996. Pete, a young travel writer, wanders into a Bangkok bar and meets the love of his life. Pete thinks that Joy is the girl of his dreams: young, stunningly pretty, and one of the top-earning go-go dancers in Nana Plaza. What follows is a roller-coaster ride of sex, drugs, lies and murder, as Pete discovers that his very own private dancer is not all that she claims to be. And that far from being the girl of his dreams, Joy is his own personal nightmare.
About the Author
Stephen Leather is one of the UK’s most successful thriller writers with numerous bestsellers in print and ebook form, translated into more than ten languages. Before becoming a fulltime author, Leather was a journalist on newspapers such as The Times, the Daily Mail and the South China Morning Post in Hong Kong.
Copyright
First published in print form in 2014 by Monsoon Books
ISBN (paperback): 978-981-4625-00-5
ISBN (ebook): 978-981-4625-01-2
Copyright©Stephen Leather, 2014
The moral right of the author has been asserted.
All rights reserved. You may not copy, distribute, transmit, reproduce, or otherwise make available this publication (or any part of it) in any form, or by any means (electronic, digital, optical, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise), without the prior written permission of the publisher. Any person who does any unauthorized act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.
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The Eight Curious Cases of Inspector Zhang Page 23