12
SINCE MOST CITY DWELLERS have left for their hometowns, Johan decides to cut through the city. They hit the MRR2, making a U-turn under the overpass, and turn left to Beverly Heights. Passing the victim’s house, they see through the sliding doors a crowd seated on the floor in the living room. They are all dressed in sarong or the traditional Malay costume, with men wearing songkok or skullcaps. The family must have invited the housing estate imam and Muslim neighbors for the Tahlil, after the burial. When the officers step out of the car, the group is starting with the Yasin recital. Approaching the house, they are received by the brother of the deceased, Kamarulzaman. The D9 officers introduce themselves and offer their condolences. Mislan nudges Johan and whispers to him to join the Yasin recital group. Johan gives his boss a squeamish look, excuses himself, and walks toward the house. Mislan stays in the driveway, lights a cigarette, and starts a conversation with Kamarulzaman.
“How’s your mother?”
“She’s still inconsolable. Leha was everything to her. I know that I was the man in the family after Father passed away, but it was she who assumed the role. For mother, it’s like losing a husband all over again. To make it worse, Leha was her only daughter.” He pauses and looks toward the house to make sure no one is approaching, and then says, “I was told that the police think it was a murder-suicide. Is that true?”
“Do you have any reason to think it was not?”
“Leha was always full of life, optimistic, cheerful and always saw the bright side of everything. She was not one to take her own life. We all went to her for cheering up, for hope, for that extra push. No, I don’t believe she’d commit suicide, not Leha.”
“How well did you know Mr. Mahadi?” Mislan changes the subject.
“I met him a few times, but I didn’t know much about him.”
“Did you know he was married?”
“Yes, Leha did say it in passing, but we never discussed it.”
“Did you know they were in a relationship?”
“Yes, mother told me. She suspected they were more than business partners.”
“How did you or your mother view their relationship?”
“She was okay with it, as long as it was done properly. He could marry four wives if he wanted, he had the means. If they were serious, he could’ve taken her as his second wife.”
“Was he serious?”
“I really don’t know. I never spoke to them about it or asked him. Maybe Mother did, but she didn’t tell me.”
“Did you know her friends?”
“You should ask my mother, she knows more than I do.”
The Yasin recital ends and is followed by a supplication for the deceased.
Light refreshments are served, after which people start leaving, offering their condolences to the family. Johan asks if they should leave, too. Mislan shakes his head.
“Let’s stay a little longer; I want to talk to the mother again.”
“I saw you talking to the brother. What did he say?”
“He doesn’t know much, but the mother might.”
“About what?”
“The relationship between the vics. Did you manage to peek into the kitchen?”
Johan nods.
“See any women of the vic’s age?”
“Some. Good-looking, too.”
“I’m sure one of them was a close friend of the vic’s. Maybe she can tell us something.”
“Maybe I could pick one up,” Johan teases.
After the last person from the prayer group has left, the two investigators enter the house and approach Kamarulzaman in the living room. Mislan asks if any of the women in the kitchen had been friends with the victim.
“Some of them.”
“Is Ayn one of them?” Johan asks.
“I’ll check.” The brother goes into the kitchen and comes out with a woman about the same age as the deceased. “This is Ayn Raffali.”
“Hi, I’m Inspector Mislan, and this is Detective Sergeant Johan. Can we talk to you about Zaleha?”
She nods and sits next to Kamarulzaman.
“Mr. Kamarulzaman, I don’t mean to be rude, but can we have some privacy?”
“Sure, I understand,” he says, and leaves them.
Mislan takes out his digital recorder from his backpack and switches it on, “Miss Ayn Raffali, can you describe your relationships with the victim?”
“Call me Ayn please. We were BFF.”
“By BFF, you mean best friends forever?”
She nods.
“The newspapers say it was murder-suicide. I don’t believe it,” she says forcefully. Before the investigator can speak, she continues, “Leha told me everything. We shared all our dreams and secrets. Those two were in love, I mean really in love. They were planning to get married after Raya. They were happy and were counting the days, the hours. That was all she talked about. Would a person in that situation commit murder or suicide?” She looks serious, her voice is firm.
“What if there was a snag in their plan?” Johan provokes her.
“If there was, she would’ve told me. We had no secrets. We broke our fasting together that night. . . . Leha, Mahadi, my boyfriend, and me. They were joking, laughing, and were as cheerful as ever. We talked about the trip and what we needed to bring along. No, there was no snag in the plans, no way.” Ayn is emphatic.
“What trip?”
“They planned to get married in Hat Yai and then have it registered here after paying the fine. My boyfriend was going to arrange for another friend to be a witness. Mahadi said that the qadi in Hat Yai needed two male witnesses.”
“Can I have your boyfriend’s name and contact for us to verify that?”
Ayn hesitates and asks, “Is he going to be involved?”
“I doubt it, but anything can happen.”
“Please be discreet. He is, you know . . .” She pauses, letting the sentence hang. Her eyes plead for understanding before handing over her boyfriend’s business card.
“Married?” Johan says.
She nods.
“So, when was this trip planned for?” Mislan continues.
“They were talking about the second week after Raya. Mahadi had made the arrangements in Hat Yai.”
“Where did you break your fasting with them?”
“Solaris Mont Kiara, the Garden Recipe Café. Then Mahadi got a phone call and said he had to leave. They left before eight.”
“Did he say why?”
“No, only that he had to meet some people in KL.”
“What was his demeanor—annoyed, calm, or normal?”
“He was apologetic. Mahadi was a gentleman, always pleasant, smiling, and understanding. I knew him for three years and I never saw him angry or abusive. Unlike his children . . . a bunch of spoiled, arrogant brats. I often wondered if they were really his.”
“Which one?”
“All four of them. They never did like Leha. They thought she was after his money. It’s difficult for some people to accept a young woman’s love for an older man. People will always say she’s after his money.”
“Did Leha have another boyfriend on the side?”
“No! She loved Mahadi and was faithful to him.”
“How about ex-boyfriends?”
“She had one ex-boyfriend, a lowlife, a parasite that lived off her, but she dumped him before she met Mahadi. Some months ago, I don’t remember exactly when, we’re having lunch at the Dome in the KLCC when the sleazebag appeared out of nowhere and sat at our table. He started pestering her to get back together. When Leha told him to go away, he got angry and threatened her . . . said he’d make sure she’d pay for dumping him.”
“Then what happened?”
“Mahadi arrived and the lowlife picked a fight with him. But Mahadi just asked for the bill and we left. He continued to follow us, swearing, shouting insults, and Mahadi said to ignore him and to keep walking. It was scary and embarrassing.”
“Do you know his name?”
“Hambali something. The last I heard he was in prison for a drug offense. He used to work as an assistant sales manager at the old Hilton.”
“The one called the Mutiara Hotel, now?”
“Yes. Inspector, I don’t believe Mahadi murdered Leha or that they committed suicide in a pact. The police are wrong. I don’t know what happened, but it was definitely not murder-suicide.”
Although Ayn expresses her views forcefully, Mislan notes the pleading look in her eyes. It must have been painful for her to lose her best friend, and under such circumstances, too.
“Do you have a number we can call if we need to talk to you again?”
Ayn offers her business card, and Johan is the first to snatch it. Switching off the digital recorder, Mislan thanks her and informs the host that they’re leaving. He again offers his condolences to the family, and they walk to the car.