58
MISLAN REEXAMINES HIS EVIDENCE and testimonies while waiting for Hashim to be brought back from the court. He figures he has one shot at breaking the suspect before a brigade of lawyers and those with vested interests descend upon him. By now, the family would have engaged a whole band of criminal lawyers to represent the suspect. He wonders about the reactions of Tan Sri KK, YB Ibrahim, Daud, and Superintendent Malik when they heard of Hashim’s arrest. Did it scare, shock, or please them? Could Mama Bee’s admission be a strategy they cooked up? One question bugs him: Did they know of the plot and were they coconspirators? Did they nod their approvals through nonaction, non-intervention to serve their own needs? If so, did that make them somehow less guilty than the killer and his accomplice? This is something he will probably never know, something they will ensure he is not given the opportunity to pursue.
“Jo, are they back yet?”
“On the way. You want him taken straight to the interview room?”
“Yes, I want to start before it rains politicians and lawyers. Can you call Syed and tell him to show the report to Dr. Safia before bringing it back here? I’ll let her know Syed will be stopping by.”
“Sure.”
Mislan calls Dr. Safia and asks if she can run through the report and make notes in plain English on the patient’s chances of surviving the illness. He calls Chew and is told the results will arrive hopefully in a couple of hours.
“Chew, can you ask them to inform you verbally of the results? I’ll be conducting an interview shortly, and it would be helpful if I could know the results.”
“Sure, I’ll call them in thirty minutes and ask. Hey, I’m sorry about this delay.”
“No problem, I know you tried your best.”
Johan informs him that the suspect is in room one, and there are several men claiming to be his lawyers at the front desk.
“Who’re they looking for?”
“I don’t know, probably ma’am.”
“Is Manikam one of them?”
“No, I didn’t see him.”
“I’m not in the mood to dance with lawyers today. Tell the front desk I’m not available should any of them ask.”
“What if ma’am asks?”
“I’m in an interview. Come on, let’s go.”
Hashim Mahadi is slouched in a chair, staring blankly at the wall. He looks haggard, with sunken eyes, overnight stubble, and a rumpled shirt, and he stinks. He probably hasn’t had a shower since yesterday, yet there’s still an air of arrogance about him. Maybe one night is insufficient to wipe away the sense of privilege cultivated over more than thirty years. Their presence makes the suspect stage an air of confidence, sitting upright and staring at them.
“Good morning, Mr. Hashim, have a good night’s rest?” Mislan asks casually.
The suspect sneers.
“Had your breakfast?”
His question is met with another sneer.
“I’ll take that as a yes. And in any case, if it’s a no, I can’t help you now because you might use my kindness against me later on claiming inducement.” Mislan chuckles. “Let’s see, where shall we begin?” Switching on the digital recorder and placing it in the middle of the table, Mislan lights a cigarette and leans back. He states for the record the date, time, those present, and that this interview is a continuation. Before he can start, the front desk officer appears, informing Mislan that he is wanted in the boss’s office. He reminds Johan not to ask the suspect any questions, as whatever the suspect says to a police officer below the rank of inspector may not be admissible in court.
Three men are in his boss’s office when he enters. She introduces them and says they represent the suspect and would like to have a word with their client.
“I don’t think it’s appropriate now, maybe in a couple of days or when we take him to the court.”
“Are you charging him?” one of them asks.
“It has yet to be decided.”
“What are you detaining him for?”
“Possible involvement in the murder of Mahadi and Zaleha.”
“The DUKE Murders? At the press conference, it was stated that the police already have a confession.”
“Correction, we have an admission. A confession is only if it’s in front of the judge. Anyway, that doesn’t mean we’ll drop everything. You know how admissions are recanted all the time. Statutory declarations, confessions, admissions, they don’t hold much water anymore, don’t you agree?” Mislan says with a tiny smile.
“So, even with the confession, you’re still going to pursue your harassment of my client.”
“It’s an admission, not a confession. Yes, we’re pursuing every lead, and no, we’re not harassing your client.”
“I want it placed on record that we’re denied access to our client.”
“What record?” Mislan asks, irritated by the lawyer’s language. “We’re not in a courtroom, and your client’s not here to admire your performance.”
Superintendent Samsiah shoots him a vile stare and turns to the lawyers saying, “We’ll take note of your request and our refusal of access at this juncture.”
“You’re the Head, you can overrule him.”
“Yes, I can, but I do not overrule my lead investigator simply because I can. Contrary to what the public thinks of us, we do practice professional courtesy among ourselves. I’m sure as practicing criminal lawyers you’re aware that while under remand, access to legal counsel by a detainee is not a statutory right but a police discretion. We’ll try to fulfill your request at the earliest possible opportunity. And in this case, it’s the lead investigator’s view that now is not an appropriate time for counsels’ visit.”
“Can we have a copy of the confession?”
“As Inspector Mislan has repeatedly tried to correct you, it’s an admission, not a confession. And no, you can’t, mainly because we don’t have it.”
“Who has it then?”
“You have to check with the Officer in Charge of Criminal Investigations.”
“Ma’am, if there’s nothing else, may I be excused?”
She looks at the three lawyers and nods to Mislan.
“I guess we have to take our request higher then,” one of the three threatens.
“I guess you should,” Superintendent Samsiah replies. “That’s why we have higher authorities, so people not satisfied with our answers and decisions can refer upward for more acceptable answers and decisions.”