21 Immortals
Page 25
“No thanks, we’re fine,” she answers for them.
“Okay then, let’s get the ball rolling. They are waiting in the meeting room.” He walks ahead of them.
He sees four men in the room: the suspect, Supt Henry, and the two men he recognises from the photograph Johan sent. The OCCI makes the introductions, “Dato’, gentlemen, this is Supt Samsiah, Head of Major Crimes, and this is Inspector Mislan, the lead investigator in the Robert Tham murder case.”
They nod in acknowledgement and take their seats.
“This is Dato’ Sufian from Sufian & Partners, and that’s Khoo Kai Beng of Khoo & Associates.”
“Call me James,” Khoo Kai Beng says, smiling.
“And, I think, you have already met Mr Lai Choo Kang, the owner of Pro Care Service Centre,” the OCCI continues. “I don’t have to introduce Henry, do I?” he says, letting out a hollow laugh echoed by the other four.
They look and sound like four performing seals, eager to please their trainer. The room is so thick with smugness and pompous self-righteousness, it is nauseating. Their faces are plastered with fake smiles, their eyes fixed endearingly on the OCCI who rambles on with his silly remarks. The inspector examines them, one by one, before settling on the suspect. None of them look at him, though he catches the suspect stealing odious glances at him through the corner of his eye. What would he not give to have an hour with the suspect alone?
“Shall we get on with the business?” the Head of Major Crimes says, disrupting the silliness and obnoxious laughter, getting a disapproving look from the OCCI who seems to be enjoying the arse-kissing.
“Dato’ is an ex-police officer, I’m sure you know him,” the OCCI says, looking at Supt Samsiah, then at Mislan. She nods while Mislan keeps his eyes fixed on the suspect. “Dato’ and James are representing Lai. Lai has come in voluntarily and has given us a statement about his innocent role in the Robert Tham murder case; sorry, The Yee Sang Murders. That’s what it’s called, isn’t it?” the OCCI smiles, contagiously infecting the other four. He taps on a piece of paper in front of him and pushes it towards the Head of Major Crimes.
She pulls it closer, looks at the suspect and says, “Mr Lai, why don’t you tell us what is in your statement.”
“It’s all in there, why don’t you read it,” the OCCI snaps.
“I don’t want to hold up the discussion. I’m sure they are all busy people, and I don’t want to take more of their time than necessary by reading it, then passing it on to Inspector Mislan to read it,” she answers sarcastically.
“It’s okay, Burhan,” Dato’ Sufian interjects, giving the OCCI a reassuring smile, “Lai, why don’t you tell them what’s in your statement.”
Mislan notices discomfort in the suspect’s manner and he figures it is not what he is expecting, or what has been promised. Lai hesitates, looks at his two high-priced lawyers, but it is Supt Henry sitting next to him who whispers something, perhaps telling him not to worry. The suspect pulls out a piece of paper from his shirt pocket, unfolds it and starts reading from it.
“That’s not what I meant, Mr Lai,” she stops the suspect. “If you are going to read from the statement, I can do it too. Why don’t you tell us your involvement, in your words?”
“My client’s involvements are mentioned in his statement,” Dato’ Sufian counters. “But if you insist, we must put it on record that if there are any discrepancies, deviations, or conflicts between what is said by my client here, and what is in the written statement, the written statement shall prevail as the true statement. The discrepancies, deviations, and conflicting verbal statements given here are a matter of choices of words and added clarification. Is that understood and agreed by all?”
“Yes, yes,” the OCCI says readily.
Mislan shakes his head in disbelief at what is going on.
“I see that Inspector Mislan is shaking his head. Are you not in agreement?” Dato’ Sufian asks. All eyes turn to him.
“That’s crap. If he wants to give a statement, let me record his statement. If he claims to have unknowingly played a role ...”
“Mislan, if you do not wish to be here, you can leave,” the OCCI retorts. “Otherwise, watch your language. Why don’t you listen and, maybe, you can learn a thing or two about police work?”
His boss leans towards him and whispers, “Calm down. Let me do the talking.” He nods and she sits up saying, “No promises. Let’s hear what Mr Lai has to say before we deliberate on your request; shall we, Dato’?”
He smiles, noting his boss has not offered an apology for his outburst. The two lawyers and the suspect band together for a private consultation. Then, Dato’ Sufian says his client maintains that his written statement is the true statement, and is invoking section 112 of the Criminal Procedure Code, and that he would not answer any questions that could or may incriminate him.
“Nothing Lai says will leave this room!” the OCCI says angrily to Supt Samsiah, prompting satisfactory smiles and nods of approval from the four.
“Whatever pleases you.”
Still hesitant, the suspect says, “Robert was the one who gave me the canister to be fixed into his Cayenne. I didn't know what was inside it, and I instructed Ah Meng to install it. That’s it.”
“When and where did Robert give you the canister?”
“In my office. I can’t remember the exact date, but it was last month.”
“Did you ask Robert what was the purpose or function of the canister?”
“No, I assumed it was a new Porsche gadget, or something.”
“Did you or Ah Meng check with Porsche?”
“No.”
“Is that normal? You and your mechanic did not know what the canister was for, yet no one bothered to check with the vehicle’s manufacturer or its representative?”
“What’s there to check? The client asked us to install it, we installed it,” the suspect answers angrily.
“If you and your mechanic did not know what the item was for, how did you or Ah Meng know where to fix it, or what to link it to?” The suspect’s face becomes red, his eyes shift wildly between Dato’ Sufian to James. Mislan notes small beads of perspirations on the suspect’s forehead as he leans towards Dato’ Sufian. Another whispering session ensues, punctuated by dark glances towards the two. After some head-shaking and nodding, Dato’ Sufian says to them. “My client chooses not to answer the last question, invoking Section 112.”
“It figures.”
“That was uncalled for ...” Dato’ Sufian snaps, but is cut off by Supt Samsiah who raises her hand to stop him before he can finish.
“Let’s move on. You said Robert gave you the canister in your office. Was the canister in a casing, a box, or was it wrapped?”
“No.”
“So it was just the canister?”
“Yes.”
“That being the case, can you explain why Forensics was unable to find Robert’s prints on the canister?”
The suspect, taken aback by the question, again leans towards Dato’ Sufian for a whispered conference. Dato’ Sufian nods several times and says, “My client chooses not to answer the question.”
The inspector shakes his head. “Do you know a woman named Mah Swee Yin, also known as Jennifer Mah?” he asks before his boss can continue.
“Jennifer who?”
“Jennifer Mah, or Mah Swee Yin?”
“No, I don’t think so,” the suspect says.
“You are from Ipoh, aren’t you?”
“Yes, I was born and grew up there. Why?”
“And you’re saying you do not know who Jennifer Mah is? She committed suicide last Monday. It was in the Chinese press.”
He sees the suspect beginning to perspire heavily, stalling and groping for an answer. He pulls a weathered black-and-white photograph from his shirt pocket and places it on the meeting table. Pushing it slowly towards the suspect but not taking his hand away, his gaze never leaving the suspect’s face. He notes recognition, followed
by surprise as the suspect reaches out for it, but he presses it hard to the table, refusing to release it.
“You know her, or shall I say, you knew her.”
“What game are you playing?” James barks.
“Ask your client. Ask him to tell you who the woman in this photo is.”
“That’s enough,” Dato’ Sufian snaps, standing. “This meeting is over. My client has given his statement and I have been made to understand that you have a dying declaration from the murderer. Isn’t that right, Supt Samsiah? If my memory serves me right, that means the case is closed. My client has come forward voluntarily to give his statement to assist you and your investigator, and you interrogate him like he is a criminal.”
“How do you know about the dying declaration?”
Soon as he asks, the room falls silent. The OCCI and Supt Henry gawk at Dato’ Sufian, stunned.
“How did you know about the dying declaration?” he repeats, keeping his eyes on the OCCI and Supt Henry.
“It’s public record,” Dato’ Sufian says, looking at Supt Henry.
“Like hell it is.” He notices Supt Henry shifting in his seat. “It was Henry, wasn’t it? He told you of the dying declaration yesterday at KLGCC, didn’t he?”
“Burhan, what is your position on this? You said the case is closed. Is it closed?” Dato’ Sufian asks the OCCI.
“No, it’s not.”
“Yes it is,” the OCCI snaps back. “I’ll inform the district to link the SDR to this case and close it for filing. It is solved, that’s official.”
“I will close the file the minute I receive your written instructions,” she says. “Is there anything else?”
“No,” the OCCI says, getting up and going towards the door, followed by a panic-stricken Supt Henry.
The two teams remain sitting, looking at each, not saying anything. Although Mislan desperately needs his nicotine, he simply sits, staring unblinking at them. Supt Samsiah stands, gathers her notepad, nods towards the other team and starts to leave. He does not make a move, until he feels a hand on his shoulder. He looks up at the Head of Major Crimes as she beckons him to follow. He requires all his energy to stand and follow his boss. As they reach the door, he hears Dato’ Sufian say, “You think you know it all, don’t you, inspector?”
Mislan swings around, steps back towards the table and says, “No, I don’t, but I know the woman did not and could not have done it alone. And, he,” he adds, pointing to the suspect, “is guilty as hell, and you know it.”
“How many years of service do you have? Ten, twelve? What makes you an expert? I’ve done more years and I have a law degree to top that. You’re just a kid compared to me. You don’t know who you’re dealing with.”
“You may have more years and a law degree, but that means nothing if you don’t have a conscience. Have a good day, gentlemen.” Then he leaves.
53
Leaving the office, Mislan calls Johan to update him. He listens patiently as his assistant pours out his frustrations, holding back his own. After he has calmed, he tells his sergeant to get some rest as it will be their turn for the twenty-four-hour report on Monday. He calls home, and tells Daniel to get ready. He will be back in twenty minutes to pick him up.
“Where are we going, dad?”
“Where do you want to go, kiddo?”
“Bowling.”
“Sure. I will call you when I’m downstairs.”
“Can akak come?”
“Sure.”
They go to the Ampang Point Bowl where he gets a lane with a guard rail, pays for two games and sits watching his son bowl. Daniel uses two hands to throw the seven-pound ball, which bumps against the railing a few times as it makes its way down the lane. He gets four pins. He looks around smiling widely, proud of his achievement, and runs up to his father to give him a high-five. Life is so simple when you are Daniel’s age, he thinks. You play the game the way you want to play it. Scores do not matter.
It is Saturday evening and the bowling alleys are crowded with children running, playing, laughing, crying, eating, and otherwise making a ruckus. It’s like family day, with fathers, mothers, children, and, even grandparents, spending time together. He longs for Lynn to be with them, watching their son enjoying himself. How could she not want this? He sighs.
Just then, his mobile phone rings. It is Safia.
“Hi,” he answers.
“Hi. What’s the noise? Where are you?”
“Ampang Point Bowl, watching Daniel bowl.”
“Oh, all right. How did it go?”
“As expected.”
“You okay?
“Yup, fine.”
“You don’t sound okay. Look, if you want to talk or something, you know where to find me.”
“Sure. Thanks Fie.”
“Lan … you take care, okay?”
Safia’s call brings him back to the case, the reality of life. Yes, some people do get away with murder. They are the ‘untouchables’. It is reality. But how does one accept it, stomach it as a police officer, a father, and a human being?
54
Sunday
Although he is awake at his usual time, six-thirty in the morning, Mislan has no desire to jump out of bed. He hugs Daniel, who is sound asleep, and takes comfort in his soft rhythmic breathing, and his tiny hands that hug him back.
When his mobile rings, he notices the call is from a landline he does not recognise. Having decided to have a lazy day, he decides to let it ring. Then the mobile beeps. It is a text message from one ASP Kumar of Major Crimes in Bukit Aman, the headquarters of the Federal Police, asking him to return his call. Why is Major Crimes from Bukit Aman calling him? He dials the number and a voice answers after one ring, “Kumar here.”
“ASP Kumar, Inspector Mislan here.”
“Mislan, sorry to disturb you on a Sunday.”
“No problem.”
“I understand you were the lead in the triple murder of Robert Tham and family.”
“Yes, but the case has been closed.”
“Yes, I was told unofficially of that. I am the lead for Thanaraju’s case. As the vic is a foreigner, it was deemed of public interest, so Bukit Aman is handling it. I understand your case is related to mine, and since your case is closed, I would appreciate it if you can pass on to me whatever evidence or intelligence you have that has not been filed?”
“What makes you think I have any?” Mislan is shocked.
“A reliable source.”
“Who may this source be?”
“Someone who cares.”
His decision to have a lazy Sunday is shelved, and they meet for breakfast. They talk about his case, his findings, and obstacles. He hands over everything to ASP Kumar. No mention is made of ASP Kumar’s source. He offers ASP Kumar his help should it be required and wishes the Federal officer luck.
Driving home, he is in good spirits. He knows who the source is. In his eagerness to get closure, he had gone head-on against adversaries who were far too formidable for a frontal assault. He lost sight of available alternatives, but his boss did not. She knew what was ahead and made sure that she identified an alternative route. She had handed over Thanaraju’s case to Major Crimes in Bukit Aman, knowing it would be linked to The Yee Sang Murders, and out of the reach of the OCCI.
Mislan speed dials his boss. She answers after several rings. “Yes, Lan.”
“Thanks, puan.”
“You deserve a better closure,” she says.
“Thanks.” He feels tears welling up. There is only one rule of law, and it can still prevail when there are people like Supt Samsiah and ASP Kumar. He can now go home, play with Daniel, and sleep restfully, knowing Lionel will not be visiting him anymore.
Mislan reaches for his mobile and speed dials Safia.
Other books by the author
Title: DUKE
Digital Edition by Silverfish Books (2017)
(Long listed for the International IMPAC DublinLiterary Award)
Synopsis:
A married man and his young female companion, whom he is planning to marry in Thailand shortly, are found dead in a car locked from the inside, with gunshot wounds, during Ramadan, on the DUKExpressway leading out of the city. It looks like an obvious case of murder-cum-suicide to all but Inspector Mislan who is surprised by the amount of political interference. .
Other books by the author
Title: UTUBE
Digital Edition by Silverfish Books (2017)
(This is a book no one dared to review in Malaysia.)
Synopsis
Troughout history men have sought to control ‘wayward’ women with terror: beatings them into submission, disfiguring their faces with acid, murdering them in the name of honour, and worse. Now, a group of Islamic fundamentalists have decided on the ‘final solution’ to the ‘gay problem’ with the ultimate hate crime: ‘corrective rape’, uploading videos of the rape on UTube to haunt the victims for the rest of their lives.
When Inspector Mislan investigates these seemingly random cases of rape he has no idea where or how high up it will lead him.
Another book by the author
Title: BAYU
Digital Edition by Silverfish Books (2017)
Synopsis
“Encik, how shall I address you? The line goes quiet as TJ considers the question.” “He remembers the breeze as he lay on the beach cooking up this scheme. You may call me Bayu.”
“Bayu, you mean like the wind?”
“Yes.”
“Encik Bayu, how do we contact you?”
“You know you cannot contact the wind. You can only hear it when it chooses to let you,” TJ chuckles.
Bayu is a master criminal, also known as The Planner, who wants to retire with a signature caper, by testing his wits against the best. What better way to achieve that than to kidnap an American and engage the CIA, he reasons. Robberies give quick highs and rewards, but he is interested in worldwide notoriety. He settles on kidnapping because the adrenalin rush lasts longer and he'll get more coverage.