7
THE SPECIAL INVESTIGATIONS OFFICE is starting to look more like an Indian barbershop, with colorful greeting cards pinned on the notice board and hung across corners. Reflective green-and-gold-colored Hari Raya greetings are strung across the door. The festive mood is certainly felt. Almost all the civilian clerical staff are on leave, and those remaining are not in the mood for work. Since the office staff is mostly Malay-Muslim, Hari Raya is a big deal. Even investigation teams are down to two teams.
Mislan has never been a festive person, has never been able to get into the flow, but since his wife left, he has been trying to adjust for the sake of his son. He wants Daniel to understand the Hari Raya spirit and enjoy it like other kids. When Lynn was around, she handled that by taking Daniel back to her hometown to spend Hari Raya with her parents. Last year, he had spent Hari Raya with Daniel at McDonald’s and watching Monster Fish. Earlier this week he called his ex-wife and suggested that Daniel spend Hari Raya with her. She promised to think about it and let him know. Mislan knows he’s going to miss his son, especially on the eve and morning of Hari Raya, but he’s happy that Daniel will get to celebrate the festival like other fortunate kids around the world.
The front desk clerk shouts from the doorway announcing that morning prayer is about to begin. Mislan gathers his notepad and walks to the meeting room. There are only two of them for the meeting, and the atmosphere feels strangely quiet without the usual joking, boasting, and bitching. The head of Special Investigations walks in, takes her seat at the head of the table, and looks around.
“It’s that time of the year, again,” she remarks. “Right, what do we have?”
“One armed robbery at Petronas, Jalan Peel, by four Malay men. One of the vics was injured, pistol-whipped. Losses: RM1,236, eighteen packs of cigarettes and ten cans of beer worth RM208.20. One of the victims picked out a former Green Screwdriver gang member, Mohammad Din Mohamed Tahir aka Din Mayat from the mugshots shown. Special Project was informed, and maybe ASP Ghani would like to take over this case as his project. The district IO is Inspector Kulaselvam.”
“Green Screwdriver, isn’t that the Indonesian-Malaysian gang that specialized in housebreaking?”
“Yes.”
“I thought that gang was wiped out two years ago.”
“They were, but Din Mayat is an ex-member, probably just out of prison,” Mislan says. “One double murder on the DUKE, vics are Mahadi Mokshin, sixty, executive chairman of MM Harapan Holding, and Zaleha Jalani, thirty-four, managing director of Rakan MM Harapan Sdn. Bhd. The male vic has one gunshot wound to the head, the female vic has one to the head and one to the chest. Nothing was stolen. We can rule out a botched robbery. A Walther PPK .32 and three empty casings were found in the car. I’ve checked with the Firearm System. The pistol is registered to the male vic. The bodies have been sent to HKL and the car taken to Forensics HQ.”
“Anything else?”
“Only these two,” Mislan says.
“Are you leading the DUKE case?” Inspector Tee asks.
“Looks like it, for now at least.”
“Right, is there anything else?” Superintendent Samsiah inquires. The two investigators shake their heads, and the morning prayer is adjourned. As they leave the meeting room, Superintendent Samsiah signals to Mislan to see her in her office. He tells Johan to join them.
“Morning, ma’am,” Johan greets her.
“Morning, Jo. You said something was bothering you about the DUKE scene, what was it?” she asks Mislan, getting to the point.
“A few things. First, the car’s position.”
“Explain.”
“The car coming to rest against the road divider in the middle of the road, the driver’s side. OK, try and follow this logic. If the driver is holding the steering wheel with his right hand, when startled, he will jerk the steering wheel clockwise veering the car to the right on the driver’s side . . . Agreed?” Mislan says, as he demonstrates by holding an imaginary steering wheel and jerking the steering wheel downward — clockwise. “That’s unless he’s an idiot and holds the steering wheel way on the left, crossing his hand across his body, like this. Nobody drives that way.”
Superintendent Samsiah remains noncommittal, but Johan nods. “And if his left hand is on the wheel, it would when jerked be counterclockwise. It’s a common reflex,” he continues, with a similar demonstration.
“And?”
“My guess is the vic was driving with his right hand on the wheel.”
“OK, what else?”
“Next is the position of the gun. It was found at the base of the gearshift, in the middle of the car.”
“And it should be?”
“I noticed the male vic wearing a watch on his left hand. Most right-handed men wear their watch on their left hand, and I’m sure the same goes for women. If he was right-handed, the gun would most likely be on the right side of the car between the driver’s seat and the door.”
“He could be right-handed, but in this case shoots with his left.”
“It’s possible, except for one thing.”
“That is?”
“He was shot in the right temple.”
“Jo, do you have an answer to that?” Superintendent Samsiah asks. Johan shakes his head and smiles.
“So, you’re saying it’s not murder-suicide.”
“I’m saying, let’s be sure before we decide. What’s puzzling is that the car was locked from the inside, and Inspector Lily Chin from D10 had to break in—slim-jim it. The ignition key was at the On position and the alarm not on.”
“That’s interesting. OK, you’ll lead this case until we are clear what actually happened. I’ll inform the district. What about Tan Sri KK and YB Ibrahim?”
“KK said that he spoke to KP Selangor, Datuk Jalil, and was assured that the bodies would be released immediately. I’m guessing you’ll be hearing from Datuk Jalil or the Tan Sri soon.” KP is short for Ketua Police or police chief of a state.
“I’ll deal with that when it happens. In the meantime, go and get some rest.”
“Thanks, ma’am.”
“I noticed this is the third year you have not applied for Raya leave. Is there something I should know?”
“Nope. I’m not into festivals, that’s all,” Mislan answers, not daring to look her in the eye.
“OK, suit yourself. And Lan, you’ll not be taken off the roster for the next ten days, at least. We’re short. Treat this like any other case and put in time in between shifts.”
“No problem.”
Back in the office, he tells Johan to go home and to get some rest. His assistant asks if he has any plans for the day.
“I’m thinking of asking Dr. Safia if she’s willing to view the vics at the morgue.”
“Why?”
“For another pair of eyes to look at them. To ask questions and to give me a layman’s explanation. I don’t understand most of the medical jargon in the reports. You want to come along?”
“What time?”
“I’ll call you once it’s confirmed. Maybe after that we could do some more background work on the vics.”
Superintendent Samsiah is reading the daily reports when she is summoned by Senior Assistant Commissioner Burhanuddin Md. Sidek. The Officer in Charge of Criminal Investigation’s (OCCI) secretary does not say why. She grabs a notepad and goes out. The corridors and the elevators are empty. She relishes the quiet and is surprised by the extra courtesy displayed by the staff. Most likely brought on by the slow pace and the holiday spirit, she guesses. Even the ever-constipated looking OCCI is smiling, greeting her warmly as she walks into his office.
“Samsiah, come in, can I get you a drink?
“Good morning, sir. No thank you, I’m fasting.”
“Yes, of course you are. Silly me. How are your Raya preparations? Are you going home to Kota Baru?”
“Not this year, the children want to spend Raya in the city,” she answers. “I’m sure you did not call me up to ask about my Raya preparations. What’s on your mind?”
Upset that his attempt at cordiality is being spurned, the OCCI says, “You know about the murder-suicide of Mahadi and the woman?”
She nods.
“I understand Special Investigations is handling it. What have you got so far?”
“We’re still investigating at the moment.”
“Who’s the lead?”
“Inspector Mislan.” She notes the disapproval by his puckered brows at the mention of her officer’s name. “Is there a problem?”
“No, no problem. I’ve received a call from Datuk Jalil . . . Jack, as we call him, asking if we can lend some assistance to the victims’ families.”
“We’ll do all we can to bring the case to closure.”
“I’m sure you will. What he meant was, if we could expedite the release of the bodies to the family for necessary arrangements. You know, Raya is only a few days away, and they’re expecting to have the burial before that. It’s bad enough for the family without the bodies being kept in the morgue. You know what I mean.”
“I do, and I empathize with them. I’ll speak to Mislan, but it’s for the forensic pathologist to decide.”
Senior Assistant Commissioner Burhanuddin nods.
“You’ve heard of Tan Sri Kudin Kudus, KK to most of us?”
“Yes, I’ve heard of him.”
“Well, he called me and said there are certain quarters that would like to see the case solved quickly. It seems the deceased was well-connected, and the case is causing some concern.”
“And why is that?”
“He means . . . the bodies found together . . . a lovers’ quarrel leading to murder-suicide.” The OCCI shakes his head, as though the deceased’s affairs matter to him. “What a waste,” he sighs.
“Is that what they think it is . . . a murder-suicide?”
“That’s what they’ve hinted, and it coincides with what the district has told me. The district says the deceased were in a love triangle . . . things turned sour, dada, dada, dada. They got into a heated argument, he lost his temper, pulled out his gun . . . bang, bang . . . and we’ve got two dead bodies. What a tragic end.”
“I see, but you missed one bang,” she says, smiling, but the OCCI doesn’t catch on. “What did the district base their love triangle on?” The OCCI pretends he didn’t hear Samsiah’s question and continues, “I’ll leave it to you to do the right thing. I’ll call Tan Sri and Datuk KP and tell them you’re taking care of things.” He stands and says, “Selamat Hari Raya to you and family,” using the customary Malay greeting for Eid.
Leaving the OCCI’s office, Superintendent Samsiah smiles to herself. If anything, the meeting has only aroused her curiosity. Who is pulling the strings and why? Who are you, Mahadi Mokshin? Back in her office, she calls several of her contacts in politics and business. Then, leaning back in her chair, she wonders whether Mislan might have bitten off more than he could chew this time.