22

JOHAN IS WAITING AT the covered walkway at the Kuala Lumpur Police Contingent HQ when Mislan drives in.

“Have you eaten?” he asks when his assistant get in.

“Nope, saving my tummy for lunch at ma’am’s house. OK, Zaleha’s ex-boyfriend, Hambali Mohd Karim, forty-one, was an assistant sales manager, dismissed on disciplinary grounds—drugs. Checked with Record, two previous convictions, both for drugs. Released seven months back and now back in for same offense, been there for almost two months.”

“That rules him out.”

“The service provider confirmed the last call to Mahadi was from a number registered to his eldest son Hashim. After that, no incoming or outgoing call or message.”

“What did Hashim say to his father? I’m sure the breaking of fast was arranged in advance. The call must have been important for the vic to leave and disappoint his friends.”

“Let me check,” Johan says pulling out his cell phone to make a call. “Hi Miss Ayn, Detective Sergeant Johan . . . normal laa, police have to work.” Johan laughs. “Sorry, Selamat Hari Raya to you, too . . . Sorry to ask, that night the breaking of fast, was it impromptu or planned arrangement . . . Oh, OK. Thanks.” Johan terminates the call, saying, “You’re right, the breaking of fast was arranged three days earlier. It was the vic that arranged it, saying he needed to discuss the trip to Hat Yai.”

Mislan takes the Sprint Highway and exits to Taman Tun Dr. Ismail and heads for Damansara Utama. He parks away from Superintendent Samsiah’s house, so he won’t be blocked when he needs to leave. They are early, and only a handful of people are there, mostly relatives. Superintendent Samsiah, dressed in a blue floral baju kurung, greets them at the front door.

“Selamat Hari Raya, you guys are early,” she says with a warm smile.

“Nice dress,” Mislan compliments her. “We thought we’d come now when things are slow at the office.”

“Thank you. Where are the rest?”

“Sent them on an errand. They’ll be coming later.”

Superintendent Samsiah’s husband and son appear, dressed in traditional baju Melayu complete with samping. They make a lovely couple and family. The husband invites them in and puts plates into their hands.

“Help yourself, don’t be shy. There’s plenty to go around,” he says, ushering them to the buffet table.

The spread is traditional Malay dishes: chicken and beef rendang, chicken curry, lemang, ketupat, groundnut sauce, and since Superintendent Samsiah is from the East Coast, there is laksam, a specialty noodle from Kelantan. Johan decides to go for the laksam.

“I’ve not eaten this for ages,” he says, piling food on his plate.

“Even if it’s true, leave some for others,” Mislan jokes. “The boss is watching.”

Johan turns and sees Superintendent Samsiah smiling approvingly at the pile of her home-cooked laksam on his plate. The two officers take their plates to the sitting area and join the other guests. Mislan starts eating with fork and spoon as Johan watches.

“Boss, that’s not the way to eat laksam.” Johan tells the inspector.

Mislan turns to his assistant questioningly.

“You eat with your hand, not with a fork and spoon.”

Mislan looks around and sees that his assistant is right. All those eating laksam are using their hands to eat.

“That’s them, this is me,” he tells his assistant and continues eating.

The hosts bring the officers a glass of drink each and sit with them, urging them to go for second helpings.

“Jo,” Superintendent Samsiah says, “if you marry a Kelantanese she’ll make you laksam every week.”

“If he marries a woman who can cook,” Mislan adds.

“Jo, go for a second round,” Samsiah urges.

“Thanks, ma’am, I’m full, up to here,” Johan says pointing to his chest.

“I heard you’re the lead for the DUKE murder-suicide,” the husband says.

“Darling, you know I don’t like to talk about police work in the house,” Samsiah admonishes her husband. Turning to her officers she says, “Never bring your work home . . . if you want a happy home. And the second rule as police officers, never let your other half poke his or her nose into your work.”

Johan nods eagerly and Mislan grins. After thirty minutes, the two officers thank their hosts and excuse themselves. Walking to their car, Johan asks where they are going.

“Since we’re close, I think we should pay the golf club a visit. See if we can chat with the members about the vics. People say, if you want to know someone’s personality, talk to their golfing friends.”

“Why is that?”

“Golf is a game you play against yourself, so you tend to be hard on yourself, which brings out your true self. The game is challenging and frustrating. It tests your emotions. I used to play golf, and you should see some of the emotions on the course, breaking clubs, throwing balls into ponds, hitting angrily at the fairways, cursing, and swearing.”

Driving out, Mislan tells Johan to head for Kota Damansara and swing by the golf club. His cell phone rings.

“Mislan.”

“Inspector Mislan, I’m Superintendent Malik from Selangor Police. Are you free to talk?”

“Yes, sir, how may I assist you?”

“I’d rather we meet in person. Where are you? I can come over.”

“I’m on my way to Tropicana Golf and Country Club to meet some people.”

“How long will you be there?”

“I really don’t know, it depends if they’re there. What do you want to meet about?”

“I’ll tell you when we meet. Can we meet at PJ Hilton in about an hour?”

“I guess so, if nothing else comes up. Why don’t I call you once I’m done at the club?”

“Good.”

Johan gives his boss a curious stare.

“Superintendent Malik from Selangor Police, do you know him?”

Johan shakes his head.

“What did he want?”

“To meet. Take a left here and go straight.”