48

MISLAN DECIDES TO BRING forward the meeting with Ayn. Johan calls her and asks if they could make it tonight. They agree, and the meeting is fixed for 9:30 at a mamak restaurant in Sunway Damansara. Ayn, still in her office clothing, comes with her married boyfriend. They go through the formalities of introduction, place their orders, and settle down to some small talk while waiting for their food. Ayn’s boyfriend appears uncomfortable about sitting out in the open. His eyes dart about, observing customers entering the restaurant. What if he is spotted here with Ayn by someone he knows, what would be his excuse? Mislan wonders.

The Bangladeshi waiter serves their food, places their bill on the table, and leaves. Ayn, who has not had dinner, starts attacking the mi goreng, while Johan and her boyfriend sip their drinks and make small talk. Mislan waits for Ayn to finish her dinner. She finally puts down her cutlery and smiles.

“Sorry, I was starving.”

“We could see that,” the boyfriend jests.

“Inspector, what did you want to see me about?”

“Please call me Lan, ‘Inspector’ sounds a little formal,” he says, smiling, and receives an uncomfortable look from her boyfriend. “I was told the vic, I mean the victim, Zaleha, had a confrontation with Mahadi’s wife. Do you know anything about that?”

Sucking on her straw, she nods. “That was some time ago, about four or five months.”

“Can you tell us what happened?” Johan says.

“I was at home when she called, rambling and crying from a clinic in Taman Melawati. When we got there, she had just come out of the doctor’s—”

“We?”

“We,” she says, smiling to her boyfriend. “When she came out, her left eye was swollen, her shirt torn at the collar, her left cheek red, and she was shaking with fear. She refused to go home, so we took her back to my place.”

Ayn reaches for a cigarette. Mislan notices her trembling hand. He waits for her to light her cigarette and compose herself.

“Leha, she said she was on her way home from the office when a car cut her off at a traffic light near her house,” Ayn continues. “She said, it was so sudden that she couldn’t stop in time and hit the other car.” Ayn sips her drink to wet her throat. “When she stepped out, a woman and Mahadi’s sons got out of the vehicle that had blocked her. They rushed toward her, swearing and calling her names. Then the woman slapped Leha across the face and punched her in the eye. The woman screamed at her to stay away from her husband and threatened to harm her if she continued seeing him. One of the sons pulled her by the collar, dragged her toward a monsoon drain by the side of the road, and said, this is where they’ll find her body if she didn’t stop seeing their father. Then he kicked her. She fell to the ground, and the other son kicked her, too. One of the sons went over to her car and scratched it. Before leaving, they spat on her saying, this is the last warning.”

She stops talking, gropes in her handbag for some Kleenex, and wipes her eyes.

“You said the victim’s sons. Did she tell you which ones?”

“Hashim and Mokthar, the two bastards.”

“So the woman was the victim’s wife?”

“Yes, the woman, Leha did not know who she was until the woman told her to stay away from her husband. Leha had never seen her before.”

“Did she make a police report?”

“No, she was too frightened and she didn’t want Mahadi to be involved in a public scandal.”

“Then what happened?”

“She was too frightened and ashamed to go out because of the black eye and bruised cheek, so she stayed at my house. She was afraid to go home because they knew where she lived and could send someone to hurt her again or her mother. After three days, Mahadi found out because she hadn’t gone to work, and came for her at my house. He was furious. It was the first time I had seen him angry, but Leha persuaded him not to do anything about it and to let it go.”

“Can you remember the name of the clinic?”

“I can’t, but I know where it is.”

“How about her car? Where did she send it for paintwork?”

“In Ampang, we went together. Sorry, I don’t know the workshop name, either. It was a Chinese workshop, on the way to Bukit Belacan. I can show you the clinic and workshop if you want.”

“That would be very helpful. Was Zaleha ever assaulted or threatened again?”

“She told me there were some anonymous calls.”

“Man or woman?”

“Man. Leha believed it was the son because the voice sounded the same, although she said he was trying to disguise it. She didn’t know who the caller was because the calls were made to her office phone. Then, about three months before she was killed, the calls stopped.”

Mislan’s cell phone rings. It is the front desk reporting an armed robbery at a cyber café in Chow Kit. The robbers were armed with a handgun and a knife. One patron put up a fight and was stabbed in the stomach. According to the paramedics, the wound isn’t fatal, and they’re taking the victim to HKL. Special Project Team has been informed and is already at the scene. Mislan excuses himself and tells Ayn he’ll call her should they need more information. In the car, Mislan asks his assistant, “What do you make of Ayn’s story?”

“Interesting, but were the threats carried out? It could’ve been empty threats by an enraged wife and angry sons. These threats are rarely carried out. The silent threats, they’re the dangerous ones.”

“Could be, but I think it was more than that. Ayn said they cut off Zaleha’s car at some traffic lights near her house. So, they either waited in ambush or followed her. Either way, it was planned.”

“You have a point.”

“Then there was the threat of killing her. The two sons dragged her to the monsoon drain and told her that’s where her body would end up. To me, that’s serious. It’s quite unusual for sons to be involved. Usually, confrontations of this nature are by the aggrieved wife, sometimes with a confidant, a busybody friend. But in this case, Mama Bee had two of her sons.”

“So, you think the threat was real?”

“Let’s do some more digging before we conclude.”

The cyber café where the robbery took place is along Lorong Haji Taib 2, an area renowned for its cheap boarding, red lights, drugs, petty crimes, scam rackets, and gambling. An area that never sleeps, it is a favorite haunt of the city’s more colorful inhabitants as well as foreigners, mainly from Thailand, Indonesia, and Africa. Johan finds a place to park the car, and they walk toward a group of onlookers behind the police line. Johan asks for the investigator. It’s Inspector Wee of Dang Wangi.

“Is he still here?”

The policeman points inside the cyber café. Mislan sees ASP Ghani of Special Project talking to the IO and elbows Johan.

“Dracula and his vampire squad are here. Let’s split. I’ll call the IO later for details. I don’t feel like meeting him tonight.”

They walk toward a nearby stall and several of its customers hurriedly leave.

Johan laughs. “Illegals or druggies.”

“Jo, can you arrange for Ayn to show you the clinic tomorrow? I need to get the vic’s medical report and see the extent of her injuries.”