42
THEY KEEP LOOKING IN the rearview and side mirrors driving back to the office. Johan takes the precaution of making sudden right or left turns without signaling and pulling over by the roadside. After several such countermeasures, he feels confident no one is following them and drives to their office. Mislan’s cell phone rings.
“I could really do with some good news.”
“Wow, no hello or how did the lunch go?” Audi taunts him. “We had a wonderful lunch, thank you, and you owe me RM135.”
“What did you guys have for lunch, gold nuggets?” Mislan chides.
“Western, for privacy. Anyway, it was worth every sen. The story’s that your victim, Mahadi, was the front man for a few well-connected individuals. He ran the business, and the others made sure his applications for permits were approved and there was no interference. The investigation was with respect to overmining, mining outside the permitted area, under declarations, and malpractices in permit approvals.”
“No surprises there. You got names?”
“A few. Inspector, I heard something happened yesterday. Something you’re not telling me. Tell you what, let’s trade the names for the inside story of what happened yesterday.”
“Look Audi, I can’t tell you what happened because it’s not in my hands anymore. However, I can point you to the right person. You give me the names and I’ll tell you who to pester and make his life miserable.”
“Deal. You go first.”
“You didn’t get this info from me.”
“What info?” she asks, laughing.
“Senior Enforcement Officer Yusuf Alamin, MACC, KL. Now the names, please.”
“KK, Daud Ibrahim, and I get first crack at the story, okay?”
“OK, thanks.”
Once they reach the office, Mislan calls Inspector Reeziana from the parking lot, asking if she could do him a favor. He gives her the necessary information and tells her to keep it between them. Walking into the office, they see a group of men and women crowding the front desk, making loud threatening inquiries: who is the person in charge, where is she now, call her now, who is this Inspector Dahlan or Mislan. He and Johan walk behind the crowd into their office without the front-desk clerk noticing.
“The gang’s here,” Johan says, jerking his head toward the front desk.
“I would be disappointed if they were not.”
“Now what?”
“Now we interview Zubir. Check with Jeff if he has a record.”
He takes out the digital recorder and goes to the interview room.
“Jo, WhatsApp their photos to Jamie.”
“OK.”
Zubir stops talking to Syed when Mislan walks into the interview room and motions for the detective to leave. He sits in the vacated chair, staring unblinkingly at Zubir. So this is the guy, the arrogant jackass that Jamie told them about. Well, he doesn’t look so macho now.
“What’s your position in the company?” Mislan asks.
“Bodyguard,” Zubir answers smugly.
“Woo, that’s a powerful position, the boss’s bodyguard. So, are you trained in close-escort protection?”
“Eh?”
“Forget it. Do you know a person by the name of Mahyudin Maidin, also known as Mamak Din?”
“Yes, he died in a car accident a few days ago. Why?”
“Was he also a bodyguard for your boss?”
“No, he was my boss’s friend.”
“Did he do any work for your boss?”
“Yes.”
“What kind of work?”
“Meet people, talked to people for my boss. . . . You know, that kind of thing.”
“No, I don’t. Why don’t you tell me?”
“He was like my boss’s messenger. When my boss wanted someone to back off or to be paid off, he would be sent. You know, that sort of thing.”
“When your boss wanted someone to back off, what did Mahyudin do?”
“Talk to them and sometimes rough them up a little. I never saw him doing it, but I heard him telling my boss what he did.”
“So he was your boss’s muscleman, his henchman?”
Zubir nods.
“Who did he work with?”
“I don’t know. He was alone whenever I saw him. He never had anyone with him when he came to the office or met my boss.”
Johan enters and whispers to Mislan that Zubir is clean.
“Where were you last Tuesday night, between eight to ten?”
“That’s the night the chairman committed suicide, right? I was at my mother’s house in Melaka. We’re having prayers for my late father. You can check that out.”
“Do you know where Mahyudin was?”
Zubir shakes his head.
The front desk clerk pokes his head in the doorway and tells Mislan that the boss wants him in her office. Before leaving, he tells Johan to take down the alibi’s details and cut Zubir loose.
Superintendent Samsiah’s office is packed with family members of the male victim. Mama Bee is seated in one chair and a middle-aged man in another, while three other men and two women stand behind them. All eyes stare at him as Mislan squeezes to the side and leans against the filing cabinet.
“You wanted to see me, ma’am?”
She nods and, addressing her guests, says, “This is Inspector Mislan. He’s the lead investigator in this case.” Turning to him, she continues, “The deceased’s family are concerned with the seizure of the eldest son’s car and the arrest of . . . his bodyguard. Do you care to enlighten them?”
“As you’re aware we’re investigating the murder of Mahadi and Zaleha—”
“What murder? I was told by Tan Sri it was a murder-suicide,” Mama Bee snaps, cutting him off. “Why are you doing this, who paid you to reopen the case? It was that bitch’s family, wasn’t it? What else do they want from us? She has stolen enough from me and my family.”
“Mrs. Rahimah, the case was neither reopened nor has it been reclassified. I don’t know what you’ve been told by Tan Sri, but it was never classified as a murder-suicide,” Superintendent Samsiah says calmly, trying to pacify Mama Bee.
“It was in the news, the press conference by the police,” the man sitting next to Mama Bee butts in.
“It was one of the theories that the police are not discounting,” Samsiah explains.
“Why has my son’s car been taken?” Mama Bee stares at Mislan like she is casting an evil spell on him.
“To clear any doubts that we may have about the case,” he answers, trying to be diplomatic.
“What doubts?”
“I’m not able to divulge that information, as it is an ongoing investigation. However, as soon as we clear our doubts, the car will be released immediately.”
“And why has one of our employees been arrested?” one of the men barks. Mislan figures the questioner must be Mokthar, the youngest of the three sons, who was reported to have threatened the victim Zaleha.
“He was not arrested. He was brought in for questioning. He was released before I came here.”
“You think you’re smart. . . . Got all of the answers, don’t you?” Mama Bee snarls. “I promise you, this will not be the end. I’ll go right to the top if I have to. Just you wait and see. I’ll have your job, like that.” She snaps her fingers, stands, and walks out. The rest of her gang-members follow suit.
When they are out of hearing distance, Mislan lets out a low whistle.
“Now you know why Jeff called her Mama Bee.”
Superintendent Samsiah smiles. “It’s starting. You’d better be right on this.”
“Well, if I’m wrong, I’ll take full responsibility. It’s all on me, no one else.”
“That’s what you say, but that’s not how the game is played.”
He smiles. “I know, and I’m sorry for any shit that might fall on you.”
“Do your job, and the shit will not fall.”