21 Immortals

by Rozlan Mohd Noor

  His mobile phone rings again, “Yes, Jo.”

  “The suspect left with two of them in one car. They have just gone into Wisma Budiman. I don’t think we can follow them in.”

  “How about the rest?”

  “Tuan Henry and the other Chinese guy have left.”

  “Okay, give them about ten minutes. Then, go in and check the tenant listing on the board. See if there is a Suffian & Partners, Solicitor and Advocates, listed. If there is, I’m sure they’re headed there. If not, go down to the parking lot, check out the car, ask the security or parking attendant whose car it is, and which company he is from. Jo, I don’t think anything much will happen tonight. You make the call to stand down your team if you want.”

  “What’s happening? What did puan say?”

  “I think they’re going to build a brick wall around the suspect before he gives himself up. They’ll probably be there a while.”

  “You okay?”

  “I’m fine. Thought of going home, catching up with Daniel and getting some sleep. I suggest you go home too.”

  “I’ll be around a little longer. If nothing moves, I’ll stand down the team.”

  He gathers the SDR, switches off the computer, grabs his backpack and leaves. His boss is still at her desk, working. He sees her lifting her head as he walks past, flashing an understanding smile, and she goes back to whatever she is working on.

  Stepping out of the lift at the ground floor, he bumps into Supt Henry coming in. He stops and stares at him. He needs every ounce of restraint to stop his hands from grabbing him by the shirt collar and dragging him out of the lift cab and smashing him. His body trembles with rage. He loaths the very existence of people like Henry and all that they represent. The lift door closes, protecting the object of his rage. He walks towards his car, breathing in the cold night air deeply to calm his nerves.

  48

  He calls home and Daniel answers, “Daddy! Where’re you?”

  “On my way home, kiddo. Why?”

  “Are you nearby? I have finished my Vitagen. Can you buy some more?”

  “Sure, you want anything else? Ask akak if she needs anything?” He hears Daniel shouting to the maid, ‘Akak, daddy tanya akak nak apa, daddy nak pergi beli’ and the maid shouting back, ‘Telur’.

  “Akak says she wants eggs.”

  “Okay. You had your dinner?”

  “Yes, bye.”

  He stops at Giant supermarket and buys two six-packs of Vitagen, a dozen eggs, a loaf of bread and two packs of cigarette. Although he has not eaten since lunch, he has no appetite; he will probably make an omelette later. His mind is preoccupied with losing the case through that dying declaration. Going by what his boss said, his suspect is plotting a strategy to insulate himself, and Supt Henry’s presence at KLGCC confirms it. In times like these, he misses Lynn. Misses having a person he can talk with. A detached person who does not care about the internal politics, the ingredients of law, and the chain of evidence. Someone who sees things through a layperson’s eyes, someone having no interest in the result.

  Daniel is in the living room when he opens the door, and is instantly bombarded with questions. He puts away the groceries in the kitchen cabinet and goes to his bedroom with Daniel on his heels, repeating the questions. “Did you go outstation?” “Are you going to work again?” “Did you buy my drink?” “Can we play?” “Can I watch my channel?” and goes straight for the remote control and switches the TV on.

  “Kiddo, daddy needs to take a bath,” he says, dropping the backpack and placing his sidearm in the drawer. “You want to sleep here with me tonight?”

  Daniel nods.

  “Go get your blankie.”

  The refreshing cold shower and the comfort of Daniel’s presence take his mind off the case. They wrestled a little in bed. He lets Daniel pin him down several times and do his wrestling-winner-thing after each pin-down. When Daniel is satisfied he has beaten his father hollow, they lie in bed watching Tom and Jerry. His mobile phone rings, it is Johan. Sufian & Partners is listed on the building information board and he says he is standing down the team for the day. He sends his assistant a message, telling Johan to take a rest, turns to Daniel and hugs him.

  “Who was that?” Daniel asks, not taking his eyes away from the TV.

  “Uncle Johan.”

  “Are you going out?” Daniel sounds disappointed.

  “No, kiddo. Uncle Johan’s just telling daddy something about work. I’m hungry. You want to eat with me?”

  “Maggi goreng?”

  “No! Enough of Maggi. Let’s have some bread and eggs.”

  “Nay, I’m not hungry.”

  He makes his way to the kitchen, takes two eggs from the fridge, slices some onions, mixes it with the eggs and makes himself an omelette. Then, with a mug of black coffee, he sits at the table to have his dinner. Daniel comes out, sits next to him and watches him eat.

  “You want some?” he asks, pushing his plate closer to him.

  Daniel shakes his head. “What was it that you always cooked for mummy?”

  “Scrambled eggs?”

  “Yes; why don’t you do that?”

  “I don’t like it. Why, do you want some?”

  “Nay,” Daniel says, gets up and disappears into his room. A moment later he hears Daniel laughing with the maid, probably watching another rerun of a P. Ramlee movie.

  After two slices of bread, he does not want to eat anymore. He picks up his coffee mug and walks to his bedroom. He switches on the news channel, but his mind drifts. Sitting at his work desk, he retrieves the SDR and starts reading it again, chronologically. Nothing in it, just as he expected. Nothing linking the suspect to the mystery woman. His mobile phone rings; it is Safia.

  “Hi,” he answers, trying to sound cheerful. “What’s up?”

  “What’s with you? Haven’t heard from you in a while, are you avoiding me?” Safia asks teasing.

  “Sorry, was a little busy. So how have you been?”

  “Usual. What’s the latest; found your mystery woman yet?”

  “Yes and no. Found her, but she’s dead. Suicide.”

  “Sorry to hear that. What happened?”

  “Last Monday. A hotel staff found her loaded with Melatrol 5-HTP and a slit wrist.”

  “Melatrol, wow. She knows how to pick them. That stuff is a stress reliever. Most suicides I have encountered use aspirin. Was the autopsy done here?”

  “No, it was done at GH. Hey, are you working tomorrow?”

  “Nope, why?”

  “Want to come with me for a drive to Ipoh?”

  “Ipoh? What’s over there?”

  “It’s been a long time since I had Ipoh kweh teow,” he says, laughing. “Pick you up, say, about nine; we can be in Ipoh by eleven. Spend a few hours there and be back in the evening. What say you?”

  “Sounds like fun. Sure.”

  “Great. I’ll see you then. Night.”

  “Lan,” she says, followed by an awkward silence.

  “Yes.”

  “You take care. Night.”

  49

  Saturday

  Leaving the house, he takes the Kesas Highway, exiting at Cheras. He heads back towards the city and makes a left to Taman Midah towards the condominium. Traffic is light. He speed dials her number.

  “Good morning. I’m downstairs, a little early,” he says.

  “Excited to see me, eh,” Safia teases. “I’m ready, will be down in a minute.”

  Three minutes later, he sees her walking towards the car, dressed casually in jeans and a round neck T-shirt. Simple, but looks stunning. Her hair in a tight pony tail, she wear sunglasses and the ever present smile. She spots him and gives a little wave when she sees him. “Hi,” she says as she slides into the car.

  “Hi, you look nice,” he says, meaning it.

  “Thank you, and you look like hell. Sorry, I mean you look beat,” she chuckles. “You want me to drive?”

  “Thanks for the complimen
t,” he smiles. “I’m fine, thank you. Have you had breakfast?”

  “Yup. You?”

  “Coffee, before I left. Saving my appetite for the kweh teow later,” he answers, putting the car into gear. Soon they are passing Istana Negara towards Jalan Damansara and Duta.

  They drive in silence until they hit the North-South Expressway. Safia leans sideways against her car door and faces him, “I know we’re not driving all the way to Ipoh just for kweh teow. We could’ve easily had it at one of the stalls in KL,” she smiles. “So, are you going to tell me why we’re really going to Ipoh, or are you going to be the tough cop and keep me in the dark?”

  “Not any kweh teow, it’s Ipoh kweh teow,” he laughs.

  She gives him the ‘yah, right’ look.

  “All right. On the back seat,” he says, “is the SDR. Look at it.”

  She unhooks her safety belt, kneels on the seat, bends over and reaches for the file. In the process, she presses on his shoulder for support, squeezing it lightly. He watches her through the rear view mirror and smiles. That’s what he likes about her; every move she makes is so natural. She returns to her seat, buckles up and starts going through the SDR.

  He drives quietly as she reads the report, flipping through the pages for about twenty minutes. She finally closes the file and looks at him.

  “What?”

  “Explain why we are going to Ipoh?” she asks, without taking her eyes off him, her smile disappearing.

  “To know more about the deceased,” he answers, avoiding her eyes.

  “Because?”

  He is silent as he thinks of an answer that may be acceptable to her.

  “Because?” she snaps.

  “Because, I don’t think she did it alone. She had help, and she is protecting the helpers.”

  “Who are these helpers?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Don’t give me that crap. We won’t be making this trip if you didn’t have someone in mind.”

  “I mean, I don’t know if he’s the helper. He is linked through the hydrogen cyanide canister, the one planted in the Cayenne, but it could have been an innocent act.”

  “I don’t get you.”

  “The owner of the service centre where the Cayenne was fixed is a Mr Lai. The mechanic who installed the canister has made a statement that his boss instructed him.”

  “So pick up the boss.”

  “I wish it was that simple. His lawyer will punch a thousand holes in the story if it is based on the mechanic’s statement alone. I need something to tie him to the mystery woman and uncover a motive. I have a feeling the two are linked, but I don’t know how.” He knows it is unfair of him to burden her with his office politics. He is sure she has her share of them. Their work did cross paths, but for either of them to be involved in the other’s work problems, or office politics, will only complicate matters.

  “Want to know what I think?” she asks.

  He glances at her. “Nope, but somehow I think you are going to tell me anyway.”

  “I think you’re not willing to accept that you have been beaten. Beaten by this woman. She closed the case for you. She beat you to it, so you’re looking for something to keep the case open because you want to close it. You’re obsessed with the case. My advice is, don’t let it consume you.”

  He pulls out the cigarette pack and she snatches it from his hand, lights two sticks, handing one to him. They smoke in silence, pretending to listen to the radio, barely audible over the noise of the wind. When they approach the Tapah rest area, she asks him to stop, saying she needs to use the washroom. He can see she is upset, and wonders if he should have invited her for the trip.

  He pulls into the rest area and parks the car. Safia steps out and heads towards the restroom without saying a word. He kills the engine, steps out, locks the car and walks slowly behind her. He finds a shady spot and waits for her to come out. When she finally emerges, he strolls towards her and smiles, “You okay?”

  She nods.

  “Like to have a drink before we continue?”

  She nods.

  Taking her hand, he leads her towards the food outlets. He orders one coffee and a teh tarik while she finds an empty table. Joining her, he asks if she wants anything to eat.

  She shakes her head.

  “We’re now down to sign language, eh?” he remarks.

  She stares at him, saying nothing.

  “Oh, come on, Fie, this is supposed to be a fun trip, for kweh teow,” he teases her. “Let’s not get all worked up over a minor detour, okay?”

  “You! Lan, I may not have known you a long time but, believe me, I know you. You’re not the type who can sleep with dangling ends. I can appreciate your drive but …” she leaves the sentence hanging.

  “I’m sorry, Fie, really. If you want to turn back, we’ll turn back.”

  She looks at him, shakes her head and cups her face with her hands. He thinks he sees tears welling in her eyes. Without lowering her hands she says, “You just don’t get it, do you?”

  “Get what?”

  “I just don’t want to see this case consume you, your life. It’ll destroy you if you let it. You cannot solve every case. Some of them are just not meant to be solved. Do you know how many dead people I examine daily? If I let them get to me, into my head, into my life, I’ll think of nothing but them. I do my best, treat them in as dignified a manner as I can, then let go. It’s not easy, I know. They come to me in my sleep and, sometimes, even when I’m wide awake. But I just won’t let them close in on me because I know what they can do. Now, I’m seeing what they’re doing to you, and it hurts me just as bad.” She slowly stands, and walks back towards the car.

  50

  They continue the journey in awkward silence; him chain smoking, stealing glances at her as she stares out of the window. He gets off the expressway at the Ipoh South interchange, and drives towards the Perak Police Contingent Headquarters. When he stops for a red light he notices the time, ten-forty. They have made good time. They could probably check out the mystery woman’s address before going for their kweh teow; that is, if Safia is still in the mood for it. His mobile phone rings. Looking at the screen, he sees it is from his boss.

  “Morning puan.”

  “Morning. Lan, where’re you?”

  “Ipoh, why?”

  “Ipoh? Perak? What’re you doing in Ipoh?”

  “Had an urge for some Ipoh kweh teow,” he answers evasively. “Anything the matter, puan?”

  “Funny. You’re checking on the suicide woman, right? Well, you can drive back immediately, and I’ll buy you Ipoh kueh teow right here in KL. The OCCI wants a meeting, and if my guess is right, it’ll be about your suspect. You said you wanted in, now you’re in. So make the U-turn and be in the office by two.”

  “You’re serious? It’s Saturday. Is he not golfing?” he asks sarcastically.

  “Not now, Lan. If you want in, be at the office before two,” and the phone goes dead.

  Turning to Safia who is watching him, he tells her they are turning back. Her eyes narrow as if asking, why?

  “The OCCI is calling for a meeting at two. We still have time, maybe we can have lunch before I send you home.”

  “It’s Saturday. I thought your admin is closed on weekends.” She is prying. “It’s your case, isn’t it? Is there something you’re not telling me?”

  He lights a cigarette, offers it to her. She refuses, pushing his hand away. He takes a long deep drag, unsure if he should tell her his fear. He had just listened to one lecture from her, and he would only be inviting another by telling her.

  “Is there?” she nudges his shoulder.

  “Remember, I told you about the service centre boss?”

  She nods.

  “Remember I told you it’s not that simple? Well, he is well connected and, I mean, really well connected. At this point, all I have is his mechanic’s statement linking him to the canister. With his connections, I don’t stand a chance
of picking him up for questioning, much less holding him. He’ll be back on the street before we even reach the office.”

  “The OCCI is one of his connections. So the reason for the meeting is a stop-order?” she asks.

  “I don’t know. I think he is making his move to insulate himself from being implicated. You see, I put a tail on him yesterday. He was seen with several influential people at KLGCC, after which they went into a lawyer’s office. My boss thinks he’ll waltz in with a prepared statement that’ll end his link to the case. I told my boss that I want in if he comes in. I am guessing that’s what the meeting is about, for him to surrender himself to the OCCI. As the lead investigator, my presence is just decorative, like a flower pot.”

  He keeps to the right lane, looking for an opening to make a U-turn, when she says, “We still have about three and a half hours before the meeting. Why don’t you do what you came here to do?” Her smile reappears.

  He looks at her, surprised. He sees her smile, the understanding in her eyes, and knows that Fie is back. He squeezes her thigh and accelerates towards the Perak Contingent HQ.

  51

  With five minutes to the meeting, Mislan goes into his boss’s office just as she is getting ready to go in herself.

  “Thought you weren’t coming,” she says.

  “Wouldn’t miss it for anything,” he replies, following her to the lift.

  He expects her to grill him about his trip to Ipoh, but she makes no mention of it. As they step out of the lift at the floor of the OCCI’s office, she abruptly stops, making him bump into her. “Look, I think you already know what’s going on in there.” She nods towards the OCCI’s office. “We have had this conversation before, and I don’t want it again. So hold your tongue and keep your thoughts to yourself. I don’t need this to become a circus.”

  He wants to respond, but thinks better of it. He nods.

  They were warmly greeted by the OCCI himself as they enter his outer office, “Glad you could make it. Sorry to spoil your weekend. My secretary is not here, and I didn’t want to bother her. If you want coffee or tea, it’s over there, please help yourself,” SAC Burhanuddin says, pointing to the pantry.