by M J Lee
Inspector Danilov remained silent.
The technician continued speaking as if talking to a child. ‘All guns use rifling, a process of making grooves in gun barrels that give spin to the projectile for increased accuracy and range. Bullets fired from rifled guns acquire a unique signature of grooves, marks and indentations which help match a fired projectile to a firearm. Are you with me so far?’
‘Right by your side.’
‘Ballistic fingerprinting, which is what I specialise in, is based on the principle that all firearms have differences due to marks left by the machining work, leaving shallow impressions in the metal which are rarely polished out. Also, ordinary wear and tear from use can cause each firearm to acquire distinct characteristics over time.’
‘So you can distinguish differing guns by the marks left behind on bullets?’
‘You’re a quick read. The easiest ways to distinguish between weapons are the gross differences. A 10 mm bullet, for example, could not have been fired from a 9 mm barrel. Of these,’ he pointed to the bullets and cartridge case collected from the corpses by Dr Fang, ‘one is a .32 and one is a .38. The two bullets are pretty degraded except the .32 cartridge case which is in excellent condition. From their class characteristics...’
‘Class characteristics?’
‘All guns of a particular type or model, or maker, display the same characteristics and striations. For example, Colt uses a left-hand twist for its rifling while Smith & Wesson uses a right-hand twist. These bullets show different twists, one right-hand and one left-hand. I’m pretty sure this one came from a Smith & Wesson.’ He held one up for Danilov to see.
‘Pretty sure?’
‘Very sure, it’s not an exact science yet. But I’ve compared them with Goddard’s examples from the New York Bureau of Forensic Ballistics and it’s a match.’
‘And the other one?’
‘A left-hand twist. I think it’s from a Colt, going by Goddard’s reference material. However, with this,’ he picked up the cartridge case, ‘I know it’s from a Colt.’
‘The killer placed the case in the mouth of Inspector Cowan. His trademark, if you like.’
‘‘The chambers and breech leave marks on the cartridge case. It’s like a fingerprint on a bullet. These marks were made by a Colt ACP.’
‘You even know the make of the gun?’
The young Chinese man nodded. ‘It’s lucky he left the cartridge case, makes identification pretty easy. Find the gun and I can tie it to the murder.’
‘How sure this time?’
‘99.9% sure,’ he said cockily.
‘How?’
Proudly the technician walked over to a long rectangular metal container in the corner of the room. ‘By using this firing box and taking the bullet and casing and comparing it on this.’
‘It looks like a microscope.’
‘It’s a comparison microscope. The first in Shanghai. I take the bullet that I’ve fired into the box and compare it with the bullet and casing from the murder of Inspector Cowan. Hey presto, if we have a match, then we have the gun that committed the murder.’
Inspector Danilov was impressed. ‘Will this stand up in a court of law?’
‘It will in America so I see no reason why not in Shanghai.’
‘What do you want me to do?’
‘Find the gun for me.’
‘It’s that simple.’
‘Yes.’
‘Your name?’
‘Tony.’
‘Thanks, Tony. How long have you worked for the department?’
He looked at the calendar on the wall. ‘This is my eighth day.’
‘So I’m your first case?’
‘That’s right. But don’t worry, Inspector. I’m good. Better than good.’
‘It’s nice to see an employee with such a strong sense of humility. Every sandpiper praises his own swamp.’
‘I’m sorry, Inspector, I don’t understand.’
‘It’s a Russian saying. I’ll get you your gun, Tony.’
Chapter 66
‘What the hell do you think you were doing?’
‘My job. You wanted me to solve the murder of Cowan.’
‘But interviewing Mr Du in his office. I’ve had phone calls from the head of the French police and from Sterling Fessenden, the leader of the Shanghai Municipal Council.’
‘My visit has shaken the monkeys in the trees. Good.’
‘Good? My God, do you realise who you are dealing with?’
‘A thug. A criminal. A possible murderer.’
‘You are dealing with an upstanding member of the community. Don’t you realise he’s the Head of the Opium Suppression force in the French Concession?’
‘And his company is the also the source of most of the opium in Shanghai.’
‘The French would never allow such a situation.’
‘If the cockroach wants to rule over the chicken, he must hire the fox as a bodyguard.’
‘Enough of your bloody Russian sayings, Danilov. You are not to go near him again. That’s an order. Or I’ll find someone else to work this case and you can investigate dog licences in the Badlands. Is that clear?’
Danilov shrugged his shoulders.
Boyle leant forward and opened his box of cigarettes, offering them to the Inspector.
Danilov shook his head.
‘Listen, we’re both in this together. They’ve made it plain to me they think the department has become lax on my watch. They are going to make a change. I don’t know how long I can protect you, especially when you do damn fool things like questioning Du.’
‘I had to see him, sir. He and his company are involved in this. I know they are.’
Boyle took a cigarette from the box and lit it, blowing the smoke up to the ceiling. ‘This force has always been my family. The only one I have ever had. Myself and Edith, well we never had children, weren’t blessed with them. She’s a good woman, but not strong. Happier back in England with her bridge and the Women’s Institute and the garden. Looks like I may finally join her.’
He stared directly at Danilov. ‘But before I do, you are going to solve this case. Do I make myself clear? I don’t care what you do, or how you do it. Bugger Sterling Fessenden, the Shanghai Municipal Council and the whole bloody army of Frogs. You will solve it.’
‘Yes, Chief Inspector. How long do I have?’
‘They’ve arranged a meeting with me this tomorrow afternoon. Just buying time to find a replacement, I think. You’ve got till then.’
Chapter 67
‘Where is she, Strachan?’
‘In the canteen eating, sir.’
‘On her own?’
‘Of course not, sir. I asked one of the constables who speaks her dialect to stay with her. And she’s with your daughter.’
‘My daughter?’
Strachan nodded.
‘What’s Elina doing here?’
Strachan took a deep breath. Now was the time to tell the Inspector everything.
‘We met her at the train station, sir.’
‘What was she doing at the train station?’
‘Taking a train, I think, sir.’
Inspector Danilov grunted. ‘Detective Sergeant Strachan, are you going to tell me what’s going on? Or are we going to continue this charade for the next four hours? You do remember we have a case to solve?’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘Well, out with it, man.’
Strachan took a deep breath. ‘We met Elina, I mean Miss Danilov, at Shanghai North Station. I had followed the maid there. Miss Danilov was going to take a train…’
‘Where to?’
‘I don’t know, sir.’
Danilov waved his hand for Strachan to continue.
‘Anyway, I caught up with the maid but she wouldn’t leave with me. Your daughter helped me to calm her down and bring her here.’
Danilov pursed his lips for a moment. ‘You did well, Strachan.’
‘Thank you, s
ir.’
‘We have to be careful, very careful with the maid. She’s our only witness.’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘I want you to take her through the mug shots of known European criminals in Shanghai.’
‘That could be difficult. No offence, sir, but there are new ones arriving from Russia every day.’
‘No offence taken, Strachan. Show her the Chinese mugshots while you’re at it. We may strike it lucky.’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘Then find somewhere for the maid to live where she can be safe.’
Strachan threw up his hands. ‘But sir, I’m a detective, not a nursemaid.’
Inspector Danilov spoke quietly. ‘This maid is the only lead to our killers. She’s more important to solving this investigation than either of us. She must be kept safe. Do I make myself clear?’
‘I understand. I’ll make sure she’s safe.’
‘Good. I’ll pay a visit to the first wife. She was issuing threats against the Lee family just a few days before the killing. One more thing, please tell my daughter I’ll talk to her when I get home this evening.’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘We need to move quickly now, Strachan, “To live with wolves, and you must learn how to howl”.’
‘There’s a similar phrase in Chinese, sir.’
‘Probably borrowed from the Russian. So, get a move on.’
‘Yes, sir.’
Chapter 68
The maid was sitting in the canteen. Constable Chen and Elina were sitting next to her. The old woman and the sharp-faced policeman were chatting away comfortably in dialect, while Elina was sipping coffee, staring into space.
The maid smiled when she spotted Strachan. ‘I’m glad you didn’t bring the green-eyed man with you.’
‘Inspector Danilov? Maybe you’ll meet him later.’
She shuddered openly. ‘I don’t like him or his eyes.’ She turned to Elina and said, ‘I’m sorry he’s your father.’
‘So am I.’
‘He’s the best detective in the police force, Ah Ching.’
‘Still scares me.’
Strachan coughed, trying to clear his throat. This was going to be hard. ‘Miss Danilov, your father asked me to tell you that he would see you later at home.’
‘He did, did he?’
‘Yes, Miss Danilov, he did.’
‘Could you tell him from me…’ She shook her head. ‘This is ridiculous. I’m talking to my father through one of his men.’ She laughed sarcastically.
‘Is there any message you would like me to give him?’
She placed the coffee cup down on the table ‘There’s no message, Detective Sergeant Strachan.’ She picked up her suitcase and marched out of the canteen. Strachan watched her leave, wondering if he should go after her.
‘She’s not a happy young woman. With that father, I am not surprised,’ said Ah Ching.
Strachan knew that there was nothing he could do. Elina and the Inspector would have to sort out their own problems. His duty was to solve the case. Nothing else mattered right now.
’Will you come with me? You too, Constable.’
He helped the maid to her feet and led her out of the canteen. ‘We’re going to look at a few books of pictures. I want you to go through them and tell me if you can recognise the European man. And the Chinese man, too.’
‘But I didn’t see the Chinese man.’
‘Never mind. You might recognise something about him.’
‘He was small and a little mousey, that’s all I remember.’
They walked to a small room off the main corridor. Four large maroon books bound in leather already lay on the table, piled one on top of the other.
Strachan sat the maid down and opened the first book. A picture of a short-haired European man stared out at them. He was holding a plate with a number and a date on it. 156245. 23 February 1927. Behind him, lines stretched across the back of the photograph. Next to the shot of his face was a full-length image taken in a much more casual style. The man had his hands in the pockets of his jacket, but he was still staring directly at the camera. The arrogance in his stare unnerved even Strachan.
‘What an ugly man,’ said the maid.
‘It doesn’t matter how ugly he is, was he the man you saw that night?’
She shook her head. He turned the page. Another close-up stared out at them with a full-length shot next to it.
She shook her head again.
He motioned to Constable Tung. ‘Help her go through the books. Let me know if she spots anybody.’
‘Yes, sir.’
Strachan left the room, closing the door quietly behind him. It was time to find the maid somewhere safe to stay.
Chapter 69
Strachan sat at his desk in the detectives’ room. He had wracked his brain trying to work out where to take the maid. He had one last option. If this failed, all he could do was lock her in one of the cells for the night. She wouldn’t like it but at least she would be safe there.
It was a short walk down the corridor. He turned the corner, hoping that she would be behind her desk and Chief Inspector Boyle would be out.
‘Miss Cavendish, it’s wonderful to see you again.’
‘I have a feeling that you want something, Detective Sergeant Strachan. Where would that feeling come from, I wonder?’
He glanced across at the Chief Inspector’s door.
She followed his eyes. ‘He’s out. At a meeting with the Municipal Council. Not a good meeting, judging by the clenched jaw and wrinkled brow when he left.’ She looked at the watch. ‘I’m going home myself in exactly five minutes. My mother will be waiting for her evening gin and tonic. After that, it’s a bridge night. So, out with it, and let slip the dogs of war.’
‘You’re beginning to sound like Inspector Danilov, Miss Cavendish.’
‘I have the utmost respect for the Inspector, but even he wouldn’t claim to have written that particular phrase. A man called Shakespeare wrote it. You do know him, Detective Strachan?’
It always pleased him that she pronounced his name correctly, with the silent ‘ch’.‘Doesn’t he steam the dumplings in the Fat Goose on Foochow Street?’
‘We must be thinking of two different Shakespeares, Detective Strachan. How can I help you?’
‘We have a problem, Miss Cavendish.’
‘We?’
‘Myself and Inspector Danilov.’
‘Go on.’
‘We have a witness. A maid. She saw the killers of the Lee Family. We need to find her somewhere safe.’
‘I’m afraid we used up the budget for safe houses a long time ago. I could ask Chief Inspector Boyle, but, in his present mood, I wouldn’t be too hopeful of a positive response. I’m afraid Inspector Danilov is not in his good books at the moment.’
‘I understand, but it’s vital to our case we keep this witness safe.’
Miss Cavendish began to pack her pens, assorted lipsticks and powder compacts from her desk into a large voluminous leather handbag. Then she stopped and stared off into mid-air for a moment. ‘I suppose I could dig into the Hidden Fund?’
‘What’s that?’
‘Well, as the name suggests, it’s money Chief Inspector Boyle keeps hidden from the prying eyes of detectives, secretaries, and above all, upstairs.’ She jerked her thumb upwards to indicate the bosses on the seventh floor. ‘I’m not supposed to know about it but...’
‘But a nod’s as good as a wink to a blind horse.’
‘More Shakespeare, Detective Strachan?’
‘Yes, Miss Cavendish. Bob Shakespeare, he’s the barman at the Palace Hotel. Makes a mean Old-Fashioned and has a way with words.’
‘Well, I’ll find the money for her. But you’ll have to find her somewhere to stay yourself.’
‘Thank you, Miss Cavendish, you are a gem.’
‘It’ll cost you another box from Loewenstein, Detective Strachan.’ She lifted up an empty box of chocolates which she then t
hrew into the waste bin underneath her desk. ‘But make sure they take out the ones with hazelnuts. They do get beneath my dentures.’
‘I will be happy to oblige, Miss Cavendish, as soon as I have the maid safely housed.’
‘Don’t leave it too long, Detective Strachan. I wouldn’t want to think you’d forgotten me.’
‘I could never forget you, Miss Cavendish, you’re the one who looks after me.’
‘You do have a certain boyish charm, Detective Strachan, but I’m your secretary, not your mother, always remember that.’
‘I will, Miss Cavendish, I will.’
The mention of his mother made Strachan think. He had hardly seen her in the last few days, what with the case taking up most of his time. Inspector Danilov was a hard task master when there was a case to be solved. Going home, eating, sleeping and such mundane matters went out the window.
He had arrived home at past midnight for the last few nights. She had still risen from her bed, though, sitting with him till he had finished eating. They didn’t talk too much about this case. He was too tired and she was too tactful.
And then it hit him. Soochow, that was where the maid was from, or as near as dammit. His mother probably spoke her dialect. It would be a safe place for her to stay until the case was over. She could provide some company for his mother while he was working so hard.
Perfect. It was perfect.
A smile spread across his face.
‘Hello, Detective Strachan. Did you hear what I said?’
Miss Cavendish was sitting opposite him. ‘Of course, that’s the answer.’’
‘What’s the answer?’
‘I’ll put her with my mother.’
‘Who?’
‘The maid. She can stay with my mother. She’ll be safe there.’
‘Good. I’m glad that’s sorted. I’m leaving now to enjoy my bridge.’
Strachan still stood there, working out the details in his head.
‘That means you have to leave too, Detective Strachan.’
‘Yes, chocolates, I’ll get a box for you, Miss Cavendish.’
‘Sometimes, I think it’s a mistake you working with Inspector Danilov. A few of his eccentricities seem to have rubbed off on you.’
‘That can’t be bad, Miss Cavendish.’