21 Immortals

by Rozlan Mohd Noor

  “What’s that?” Johan asks.

  “3-D image of the person who returned the Cayenne to RT. Nathan did the measurements from the video recording, and Di has come up with this. What do you think?”

  “Hard to say; but small men exist.” Taking a closer look, Johan says. “The height is one-four-nine-point-nine centimetres; that’s a girl height.”

  “Look at the waist and chest measurements. The chest is too big for the waist. I think it’s a woman. Here, look at the side angle,” he says, clicking the right and left arrows to rotate the image.

  “I’m not very sure about the measurements. The waist is okay, but the chest? The figure is wearing a jacket with a waist garter, that usually makes the stomach and chest look big,” Johan argues.

  “Good point. Here, look at the head’s measurements. It’s too big at the top. It’s not proportional to the length of the head, like there’s something under the cap. Curled up hair?”

  “Possible.”

  “Let’s look at the video.” Mislan loads the DVD and waits for the Media Player to come up. He moves the timer to four-twelve and presses ‘play’. He stops the player, brings it back to the best footage of the figure he can find, and pauses. He sends an image of his screen to the printer. Mislan studies the printout, and makes a note to ask Nathan how he got the measurements.

  The front desk officer signals that ‘morning prayer’ is starting. The meeting is brief: two cases of armed robberies, shots were fired in both cases, but no casualties reported. Throughout the briefing, ASP Ghani begs the Head of Major Crimes for the project, to track down the suspects, claiming they were involved in several other reported robberies. The boss is not convinced, asks ASP Ghani to produce evidence of his claim, and until such time, the cases will remain in the hands of the district investigating officer.

  “Lan, please see me after this,” she says, ending the meeting.

  On his way to her office, Johan tells him that Maria has arrived and is waiting in interview room one. He tells Johan to make her comfortable, to get her some coffee and he will be with her in ten minutes. He updates Supt Samsiah about his meeting with Di and her friend, Hubble the telescope, Chew’s discovery, the 3-D images constructed by Di, his research on local Porsche dealers, and the diagnostic system.

  “You look as if you’ve not slept for days,” she says, making a circular motion around her eyes with her finger. “I heard Johan has asked for a stakeout team?”

  Ignoring her comments, he says, “Yes, my feelings say the service centre, or the mechanics, are involved. Thought I’ll put some eyes on it, just in case. Hubble says he needs, at the most, half a day to go through the ECUs. That is, if I can produce the diagnostic system. Meanwhile, I need to keep an eye on the service centre.”

  “Can you get hold of the diagnostic system?”

  He smiles, “I was hoping you’ll help, maybe persuade Auto Eurokars to lend us one for a day or two. At the same time, maybe they can also provide you with a list of workshops supplied with Porsche’s diagnostic system.”

  “I’m open this morning, I’ll pay them a visit and charm them into lending us one,” she laughs.

  “Ask for their latest. the Durametric Diagnostic Software, and I need your approval to work with Hubble on the ECUs.”

  “How do you spell it, D-u-r-a … metric?” she asks, scribbling on her notepad. “Talk to Chew, get Di to be the case technician, with Hubble as an independent consultant. That way we won’t need him to testify. Do you need a backup team for your raid?”

  “I’ll use the stakeout team; I don’t expect resistance. It would help if I can get general duty personnel for the transfer. I prefer to detain them here instead of the district lockup. Gives us better control. The shift investigator and his assistant can help with the interviews, if need be.”

  “Looks like you have it all worked out. The killers are good, so watch your step,” the Head of Major Crimes reminds him.

  “Thanks. Let me know when you have the diagnostic system.”

  Maria is on the mobile phone, talking rapidly in Tagalog, when they enter the interview room. She quickly ends the call and smiles nervously. Mislan takes a seat in front of her as Johan sits by the door.

  “Maria, how have you been?”

  “Okay,” she answers tensely.

  “Are you still living at the house?”

  “No, I stay with my agent. I’ll go back to Philippines next week.”

  “Maria, did you prepare dinner for the family on Friday?”

  “Ma’am said they were going out. She told me not to cook. Why?”

  “When you came back on Sunday morning, did you notice what was served?”

  “The first time I did not but, when I went closer, I noticed it was yee sang.”

  “You know yee sang?”

  “Yes, Mr Tham would take the family and me for yee sang during Chinese New Year.”

  “Where did you normally go?”

  “The Palace of Golden Horses.”

  “What about at home; did Mr Tham serve his friends or relatives yee sang at home?

  “No.”

  “Did Mr Tham or ma’am bring friends to the house?”

  “Mr Tham, no; ma’am, yes.”

  “How about relatives?”

  “No. Ma’am only brings friends. Always only for a little while, for ma’am to change her clothes. Sometimes, ma’am’s friends wait in car.”

  “What about Lionel; did he ever talk about his uncles, aunts, or grandparents?”

  “Not to me. Lionel only talked about his friends at school.”

  Tears well in her eyes when she talks about Lionel. “Did Lionel ever bring his friends to the house? School friends?”

  “No, he only talked about them.”

  “Right. When did you talk to Mr Tham about taking Friday off?”

  “Not Mr Tham; I asked ma’am. Maybe one month before. Ma’am was strict. I always had to tell her early because she sometimes went out and I had to take care of Lionel. So I told her early.”

  “Did Mr Tham know you were taking Friday off?”

  “I think so, because one night at dinner he asked me where I was going. I told him, to my friend’s birthday party.”

  “Can you remember when he asked you that?”

  “I think, the night after I told ma’am.”

  “That’s about a month before you took your Friday off, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “Did they have friends come to the house?”

  “Only ma’am.”

  “Ma’am; did she always go out?”

  “Every day.”

  “Was she working?”

  “I don’t know. Sometimes ma’am left at ten in the morning, sometimes in the evening.”

  “Did she go out at night, or come home late?”

  “Yes, ma’am went out at night. Sometimes ma’am came home very late.”

  “With Mr Tham?”

  “Sometimes. Sometimes alone.”

  “How about holidays? Did she go away on holidays often?”

  “Every month.”

  “With Mr Tham?”

  “Sometimes, but always with Lionel.”

  “After they moved into this new house, did ma’am go away?”

  “Two times.”

  “Where did you stay when ma’am went away?”

  “In the old house, I stayed home. But this new house, I was afraid because there is no alarm and I didn’t know anyone. So Mr Tham let me stay with my friend. I come back early on the same day ma’am came back.”

  “Do you know where ma’am went?”

  “Ma’am never told me, but Lionel always did. They go to Singapore.”

  “Did Lionel ever tell you who ma’am meets in Singapore?”

  “He told me, they only went shopping.”

  “Do you know whether ma’am had a boyfriend?”

  “No.”

  “How about Mr Tham, did he have a girlfriend?”

  “No, I don’t know.
”

  “Did you bring any friends to the house?”

  “No, ma’am warned me when I started working. No friends were allowed to come to the house.”

  “Did you ever hear Mr Tham and ma’am fighting or arguing?”

  “No.”

  “Okay, Maria. Thank you for coming.”

  31

  Leaving the interview room, he calls Safia to ask for her e-mail address, telling her that he will be sending the 3-D images. He asks if she can give her professional opinion on the gender of the figure.

  He makes another call. “Nathan, Inspector Mislan here.”

  “Hi, Inspector.”

  “Nathan, thanks for the measurements. I was wondering how you got the chest measurements, the width and depth.”

  “I took the width from the back. As for the depth, there were three frames where the figure was standing by the driver’s door before and after bending into the vehicle. I got the measurements from these frames.”

  “I must have missed that. Good eyes. Thanks.”

  He slides in the DVD and runs the video. Nathan is right. He sends the three frames he wants to the printer. He picks them up, walks to the pantry, makes a fresh mug of coffee and slumps wearily into his chair.

  He takes out the notepad and starts writing what he has so far:

  • Primary crime scene – Cayenne,

  • Serviced by Pro Care a few days before holiday,

  • Returned to RT by an unknown woman,

  • Hydrogen cyanide canister fixed into air-con vent, remotely controlled

  • ECUs possibly compromised,

  • Partial fingerprint under belt buckle,

  • Motives – unknown,

  • Suspects – none.

  After four days, he still has nothing; no motive, no suspect, and is no nearer to solving the case.

  In his experience, most murders are committed by someone known to the victims. The general exceptions are murders that are a result of other crimes. These murders were premeditated. The killers knew the victim; but which victim? Mr or Mrs Tham?

  His phone rings. “Hi, Fie.”

  “Hi, Lan. Sorry for the delay. I managed to look at the images you mailed me. From the measurements, the probabilities are it’s a woman. How accurate are the measurements?” asks Dr Safia.

  “Spoke to the video tech; he says it’s accurate. He made some adjustments for the thickness and flabbiness of the jacket. Why?”

  “If he’s confident of the measurements, I’d say it’s a woman, based on the chest and hip measurements.”

  “Can I use that in court?”

  “Any physician can come to the same conclusion based on the measurements. The challenge will be the measurements; how accurate are they, especially when it’s taken from a video.”

  “Yes, you’re right. Let me show it to my boss and see what she has to say. Thanks, Fie.”

  “No problem. How’s the case coming?”

  “It’s not coming. Many discoveries, but no leads,” he answers dejectedly.

  “You’ll crack it. I know you will. If you need to talk, I’m free later. Maybe we can have dinner. Have to go. Call me, okay? Bye.”

  Johan walks in red faced, as if he has just gulped a couple of jugs of beer.

  “What’s with you?” he says, as Johan drops heavily into his chair.

  “Just heard, Tuan Ghani has been given this morning’s robbery case. It came from the top, bypassing puan. His assistant wants the stakeout team back, immediately. I told him to talk to you. I may just lose it one day, and deck that geezer right here in the office.”

  “Cool down, let me handle it.”

  No sooner has he finished his sentence, ASP Ghani and his assistant march in, heading straight for Mislan’s desk. He notices Johan tensing and gives him the stay-out-of-this look.

  “You’ve some gelaps on stakeout. I need them back here, asap,” ASP Ghani says, even before reaching his desk.

  “I’ll send them back when the stakeout is done,” he answers calmly.

  “I need them now. I’ve just got intelligence on the suspects,” ASP Ghani retorts, raising his voice. “You’ve got nothing there, so call them in, stand them down and return to base.”

  Mislan notices the desk officer and a mata gelap standing at the outer doorway, observing the scene. They are probably betting on who will win this round. He is aware the Head of Major Crimes is away, probably charming her way to a diagnostic system. Standing slowly, he points to the emergency door and moves towards it. The emergency staircase landing area is enclosed and rarely used, ideal for holding very private, personal discussions. He is waiting at the staircase landing when the door is forcibly pushed open by ASP Ghani, missing him by inches. He takes that as an act of aggression and, before the door even closes, he grabs ASP Ghani by his shirt, pulling him away from the door, and throws a right hand into his stomach. Surprised, ASP Ghani buckles. Mislan jerks his limp body up and presses him against the wall. ASP Ghani groans in pain, both his hands holding his middle, eyes blinking rapidly to hold back tears, mouth gasping for air.

  He holds ASP Ghani’s jaw tightly with the right hand, the thumb and index finger pressing hard into the soft cheeks, stopping him from speaking. “You listen well. I’m not going to say it again. If you ever challenge me in front of my men or cross my path again, it will be your last. Do you understand?” he says, calmly.

  Unable to speak, ASP Ghani nods.

  “Good. Now, if you want to take this up with the boss, you go ahead. You want to take this further, just tell me where and when,” he hisses, easing his grip on the jaw but still has ASP Ghani pinned against the door. He can hear soft voices and footsteps on the other side of the door, but ignores them.

  Soon as he eases his grip, ASP Ghani shouts, “Fuck …” and is rewarded with a sharp right jab on the same spot in his stomach. “Shit … Aghh,” is all that escapes from ASP Ghani’s mouth. The inspector grabs ASP Ghani by the hair, shoves him against the door, blocking any potential intruder from joining them, saying, “No shouting, we’re officers. We settle our difference in a civilised manner. We don’t shout. Got it?” he smiles.

  ASP Ghani nods.

  Releasing his hair, he says, “Good. Do you want to say something?”

  ASP Ghani shakes his head.

  “Does this end here?”

  ASP Ghani nods.

  He releases his grip and ASP Ghani bends forward clutching his belly. He pats ASP Ghani’s back and helps him sit on the landing leaning against the door. Mislan sits next to him, keeping a close watch on his every move, ready for some more. He pulls out a cigarette, lights one, passes it to ASP Ghani, and lights another for himself.

  “You okay?”

  “Fuck you,” ASP Ghani snarls.

  “I take that to mean you’re fine. So, I heard you got the project on this morning’s robberies; what intelligence have you got?”

  “None of your fucking business.”

  “It’s my business when you’re trying to screw my case, and can you drop the ‘f’ word. You should stop watching so many American movies. Stop trying to be them. You sound stupid.”

  “Go fuck yourself.”

  He hears loud banging on the door, followed by the voice of the Head of Major Crimes asking what is going on in there. Turning to ASP Ghani, he asks, “Do we have an understanding?”

  ASP Ghani nods.

  “Good.” Standing, he helps ASP Ghani up, giving him a cold stare before opening the door.

  “What’s going on here?” Supt Samsiah gives them the once-over.

  “Puan, we were just having a private discussion. Weren’t we?” he says, turning to ASP Ghani.

  ASP Ghani nods.

  32

  Stepping back into the office, Supt Samsiah points to the diagnostic system on his table and says it is a goodwill loan from Auto Eurokars. It is a Durametric Diagnostic System that runs on Windows with USB adapters to communicate with Porsche ECUs.

  “Your charm wo
rked. Thanks, puan.”

  “Don’t mention it. I have to return in by Friday evening. Whatever you do, make sure you don’t damage or corrupt the system. It’s the latest in the market and there are only two units in the country.”

  “I’ll take good care of it,” he says, teasing. “Anything on the workshops that have this diagnostic system?”

  “According to the Master Technician, they don’t give it out to every workshop. They are provided only to authorised garages in the country, but he said that does not mean other workshops can’t get hold of one.” Pressing some buttons on her mobile phone she says, “Let’s see, ah here it is. The earlier system, KTS 500 or KTS 650, also known as Porsche System Tester 2, is available in the second-hand market. Unauthorised workshops can buy them from Hong Kong or Singapore.”

  “It means, even if Pro Care is not an authorised Porsche workshop, they could still own a Porsche diagnostic system.”

  “Yes, and they may also get their parts and accessories from Hong Kong or Singapore apart from second-hand dealers; through the net, or through many Porsche Clubs worldwide.”

  “Okay, thanks. I appreciate your help, puan,” he says, eager to get moving.

  When he looks around, ASP Ghani is nowhere. He figures his nemesis must have taken the stairs up or down to avoid curious stares. He shoves the incident aside, pulls out his mobile and dials Di. After several rings, she answers.

  “Di, this is Inspector Mislan. Can you get Hubble to the lab? I’ll be talking to Chew to get him cleared. How long will it take?”

  “It’s eleven-ten. He should be up. I can get him in here by twelve-thirty.”

  “All right, I’ll see you then.”

  He makes another call, this time to Chew. He tells him he has discussed bringing outside help with the boss, and has her blessings, provided a Forensic Department technician is the primary.

  “You okay with it?”

  “Yah, sure, if it helps solve the case.”

  “Great, I need you to clear Hubble and prepare the ECUs for testing. Di says they’ll be in at twelve-thirty. I’ll be there too.”