Mislan follows his boss to her office.
“Ma’am, why’re we bringing D11 into our case? Can’t we keep it in-house?”
“You heard of the UTube rape case?”
“Yes.”
“Lillian told me it’s the same MO. The rape was recorded on video and she’s expecting it to be posted on UTube.”
“But we’re investigating the murder. That takes precedence over rape.”
“And you think I don’t know that?” Samsiah snaps at him.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it that way.”
“The problem with you is you only see the obvious. When are you going to learn? In the eyes of the law, murder is the ultimate crime, but in the eyes of the media, especially when a rape video goes viral on UTube, that’s prime-time news. With this second rape, the media will go wild with stories of a serial rapist on the loose. Now tell me, do you still feel your murder takes precedence?”
“But we still need one more rape to make it serial. It has to be three and more, right, for it to be classified as serial?”
“You think the media knows that? Even if they do, you think they care? Rape sells papers, and serial rape sells even more papers.”
Mislan remains silent.
“You have a problem working with Inspector Sherry?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t worked with her before.”
“Correction—you haven’t worked with anyone before,” she says.
“I work with Jo.”
“He’s your subordinate. Lan, I want you to stick around. Lillian and Sherry are coming over at ten.”
Leaving his boss’s office, Mislan heads straight to the emergency staircase, his smoking area in a smoke-free building. Johan watches as his boss walks past without looking at him. Johan can see something is bothering him. He waits until Mislan disappears behind the emergency staircase door and gives him another minute to light up and take a few drags on his cigarette before getting up from his chair. While Johan is watching his boss, Inspector Reeziana is watching the detective sergeant. She, too, has noticed something is brewing. As Johan walks to the emergency staircase, she follows.
Johan pushes lightly on the door and sees his boss leaning against the staircase handrail, smoking and staring down the stairwell. Mislan turns to stare at his assistant.
“What’s up with you?” Johan asks.
Reeziana steps in from behind Johan, and they both look at her questioningly.
“You guys having a private party or something?” Reeziana asks, grinning.
Mislan flashes a tight smile.
“Can I have a ciggie?” she asks.
Mislan hands her the pack and lighter.
Lighting up, she hands them back and asks, “What’s bothering you?”
“Nothing.”
“It’s the meeting with ma’am, right? What was it about?”
Mislan remains quiet.
“Her decision to being in D11, wasn’t it? I saw your face when she said that just now.”
“On what?” Johan asks.
“The rape and murder case,” Reeziana answers.
“What’s wrong with that?” Johan asks.
“You know your boss doesn’t like sharing cases,” she says.
“But the two cases are related,” Johan replies. “It makes sense if we work them together.”
“Tell that to your boss,” Reeziana says, grinning.
Johan looks at Mislan.
“Your boss is afraid D11 will cramp his style,” Reeziana says letting out a cheeky chuckle.
Mislan stares deadpan at her, and she laughs louder.
14
INSPECTOR SHERRY REACHES THE Kuala Lumpur Police Contingent headquarters at 8:15 in the morning and goes straight to her boss’s office. Superintendent Lillian puts down her pen and invites her in. Sherry updates her on the latest case. The victim, although traumatized by the rape, was more devastated by the death of her housemate. The doctor had ordered her hospitalized for observation.
“The same MO,” Lillian states rather than asks.
Sherry nods, taking out her notepad.
“The victim’s name is Julie Maulana, thirty, born in Ipoh, Perak, works as a bank officer with CIMB. As in the first case, she woke up when she felt a hand over her mouth and found a man wearing a stocking over his head holding a knife to her cheek. He raped her while his accomplice videoed it. During the rape, he kept telling her he was freeing her, asking her if she was enjoying it and if she came.”
Superintendent Lillian inhaled deeply, disgusted. “I’m guessing there was no trace of semen found.”
“The GYN confirmed signs of vaginal trauma but didn’t find any trace of semen. Swabs were taken for toxicology. I’m sure they’ll find traces of the lubricant similar to that found on the first victim. Ma’am, I’d like to withhold that piece of evidence.”
“From the press?”
Sherry nods. “Only on a need-to-know basis.”
“OK, what about other bodily fluids?”
“None, although this time the victim didn’t shower. The doctor examined her physically but couldn’t find any trace. Forensics could not find anything, either.”
“The murder victim?”
“Her housemate, Zaitun, was a waitress at the Beach Club. The rape victim said she heard a scream and peeked out from her bedroom and saw her housemate lying in a pool of blood under the table, groaning. She called 999, but by the time the paramedics arrived, she was dead.”
“Who’s the lead for the 3-0-2?”
“D9, Inspector Mislan.”
“Hmmm,” Lillian says. She had heard of the inspector’s reputation.
“Why?”
“Nothing. I’ll arrange for a meeting with D9 at ten. Why don’t you freshen up and get your notes in order?”
“Are they taking the lead?”
“I’m sure they’ll want to. Let’s see how the discussion goes.”
Mislan makes a call to the Malaysia National University Hospital or HUKM (Hospital Universiti Kebangsaan Malaysia). He asks to be put through to the Forensics Pathology Department. Introducing himself, he mentions his victim’s name and police report number and asks if the autopsy has been done. The woman on the line asks him to hold while she checks the schedule.
“It’s scheduled for today, but it hasn’t started yet.”
“Who’s on today?”
“Dr. Nursafia.”
“Can you pass this call to her, please?”
“Hold the line.”
A few moments pass, and a woman’s voice answers, “Dr. Safia.”
“Fie, it’s me. You’re working today?”
“Hi, how’re you? Yes. Why?”
“Good, I got a case in your cold box: Zaitun. What time are you doing her?”
“Let me see. I’ve got three today. Ah, here, she’ll be the last.”
“What time will that be?”
“Around noon.”
“Can you hold it until I arrive?”
“If you can be here by noon. What’s special about this case?”
“Tell you when I see you. Give me a fifteen-minute window.”
“OK, fifteen max.”
“Thanks, see you.”
He calls Crime Forensics and asks for Chew, who updates him on the preliminary findings.
“What about the murder weapon?” Chew asks.
“None found. The killer probably took it with him or ditched it out of the search area. Did you manage to lift prints from the stairwell?”
“No, too smeared to lift any.”
“I didn’t expect you to.”
“Why is that?”
“If they’re the same bastards from the first rape, they wore gloves. Any bloodstained shoe print we can use?”
“No. I didn’t see any near the body, either. From the blood spatters on the table and the wall, I’m guessing it was a single strike, and the assailant didn’t hang around to admire his handiwork.”
“Ambushed?”<
br />
“Most likely. Normally, in such encounters the assailant would have blood spatters on him, too, but there won’t be any footprints in the blood. By the way, the blood on the staircase is the same blood type as the victim’s. I’ve sent the sample for DNA matching.”
“I don’t think the killing was premeditated. I think they were caught by surprise.”
“Why is that?”
“The single strike and not hanging around to make sure the victim was dead before taking off.”
“You’ve got a point.”
“Chew, thank you. Keep me informed.” He puts down the phone and says to Johan, “Jo, why don’t you go home and get some rest? I’ve got a meeting with the boss and D11 at ten.”
“You’re sure?”
“Yes, I’ll go home after the meeting and get some rest, too. The vic worked at Beach Club. Maybe we’ll pay it a visit later tonight.”
“What about the rape victim?”
“I’ll ask Sherry if we can interview her and will let you know.”
“Keep your cool,” his assistant says as he packs up to leave.
Mislan gives his assistant a glazed look.
Detective Sergeant Johan smiles and leaves.
15
SUPERINTENDENT LILLIAN AND INSPECTOR Sherry are already in the head of Special Investigations’ office when Mislan enters. He acknowledges the head of Sexual & Child Abuse Investigations and her officer. The two D11 officers greet him with warm smiles, which makes Mislan uneasy. In his book, warm smiles always hide something unwarm behind them. Superintendent Samsiah addresses the two investigators.
“I know you’re both tired, so let’s make this quick. I’ll skip the investigation’s details for now and deal with it at the appropriate time.” She pauses and gets a nod from each of them. “Has anything popped up on the net yet on this second rape?”
Sherry shakes her head. “My task force’s monitoring it. So far, nothing.”
“Maybe, with the murder, it might not be posted,” Samsiah suggests.
“I’m sure it will be. It’s a matter of when,” Sherry counters.
“We’ll deal with it when it happens.” Samsiah addresses Lillian: “How do you propose we conduct this investigation?”
“We have a task force for the first case; Sherry’s heading it. Mislan’s the lead for the murder—perhaps he can be part of the task force,” Superintendent Lillian proposes.
All eyes turn to Mislan.
“The task force is for rape, the focus may not be the same,” he says, diplomatically.
“And how is it different?” Samsiah probes, inviting Mislan to argue himself into a hole.
“The forensics and leads,” he gropes.
“Let me ask you this,” Samsiah says. “Do you think the rapists and murderers are two separate sets of individuals?”
Mislan blinks, remaining silent.
“If the task force is going after the rapists, how does that interfere with you going after the murderers?” she presses on, knowing she has him cornered.
Mislan avoids her eyes.
Superintendent Samsiah’s lips curve in a tiny smile. “I think it’s an excellent suggestion, Lillian. Sherry will lead, and Mislan will play second. Who should the task force report to?”
“Since 3-0-2 takes precedence over 3-7-6, I think they should report to you,” Lillian says.
Turning to Sherry, Samsiah asks, “Do you have a problem with that?”
Sherry casts a quick glance at her boss before answering, “No.”
“Good, it’s settled then, unless anyone has anything else to add.” Samsiah pauses, half-expecting Mislan to make a last-minute pitch. When nothing happens, she continues, “There’s one other thing. Whenever there’s a need for Mislan to talk to the rape victim, I want Sherry to be present. I’m sure we’ll be receiving more than the normal media coverage on these cases. We don’t need them to start reporting about mishandling of the rape victims.”
The D11 officers nod.
As they stand to leave, the head of Special Investigations says, “Sherry, the ‘morning prayer,’ sorry the morning briefing, is at 0830 hours daily.”
Mislan remains seated as the D11 officers go out.
Superintendent Samsiah asks, “What’s on your mind?”
“Ma’am, I don’t know if letting Sherry lead is the right decision.”
“And why is that?”
“She has no experience with murder and—”
“Look, Lan, she’s not investigating your murder case. She’ll be investigating her rape cases,” Samsiah says, cutting him off. “And as I said earlier, and I’m sure you agree, the rapists and murderers are the same individuals.”
Mislan looks at her, pleading.
“However, knowing you, I’m sure you’ll bully your way into leading the investigation. Look, I need someone with you to make sure you don’t create a media circus out of the investigation.”
“But I’ve got you for that.”
Superintendent Samsiah laughs. “Has that ever stopped you before? I can’t watch over you 24/7, but Sherry can, because it’s as much her case as it is yours. I’m hoping she’s strong enough to stop you from making a fool of yourself with the media. Now, get out of here and get some rest.”
16
EARLIER THAT DAY, AROUND 6:40 in the morning while he was at the rape-murder crime scene, the nanny had called to inform Mislan that Daniel was running a low-grade fever. He was coughing and had vomited all over his school uniform. Mislan told her to give him two children’s aspirins and to let him sleep. He told her he would try to get home as soon as he could.
Arriving home, he goes straight to his son’s room to find him curled up in bed watching TV: National Geographic Monster Fish. Somehow Daniel—or “kiddo” to him—has always been interested in watching monster fish instead of cartoons. Mislan has never taken his son fishing, and he himself was never interested in fishing. He finds it boring, as he has no control over the outcome, unlike with other sports. The channel is showing a guy that he always sees on the screen sitting in a sampan heading upriver somewhere in Vietnam.
“Hey, kiddo, how’re you feeling?” Mislan sits next to his son, feeling his forehead.
“My throat hurts, Daddy. I vomited a lot,” Daniel answers, his voice weak.
“I know. Sister told me. I’ll shower and take you to the clinic, OK?” His son refers to the Indonesian maid as Sister.
“Daddy, you’ve got to tell my teacher. I didn’t go to school.”
“I’ll do that, kiddo.”
Glancing at the wall clock, he realizes he needs to get going to HUKM soon to catch the autopsy. After a quick shower, he drives Daniel to a nearby clinic. There are several patients ahead of them, and by the look of it he won’t be able to make it to the autopsy. He makes a call to the hospital.
“Hi Fie, have you started?”
“About to. Where’re you?”
“Sorry, I don’t think I can make it. I’m at the clinic.”
“What’s wrong?”
“It’s Daniel. He was vomiting this morning and says his throat hurts. Can we catch up later for dinner? We can update each other then.”
“Does he have a fever? Have him checked for dengue. It’s been on the rise in Selangor lately.”
“l’ll ask the doctor.”
“Make sure you do that.”
“Don’t worry, he’ll be fine. Got to go, the nurse just called his name. Call you later, OK?”
Reaching home, he gives Daniel his medicine and tells him not to drink anything cold until he recovers. He tells the maid to cook rice porridge and chicken soup for his son’s lunch.
“Daddy, can I sleep in your room?”
“Sure, kiddo.”
“Have you told my teacher yet, daddy?”
“Yes, I texted her. I also told her you’ll be away for two days.”
Daniel switches on the television and jumps on the bed. “Are you working today?”
“Later. Now
I need to get some sleep.”
“This Saturday, can we go to the driving range? I want to hit some balls.”
“You want to restart your golf?”
“Yes, can I?”
“Sure, kiddo.” He smiles. A couple of years back Daniel picked up the sport and was getting good at it. At his tender age of seven, he was able to drive the ball ninety yards. But for some reason, he lost interest, and now he wanted to restart.
He’s delighted at his son’s renewed interest in a sport he loves but doesn’t have the time for. He turns on the air conditioner and climbs on the bed, and Daniel rests his head on his chest while he watches TV. He wakes up at a quarter to three in the afternoon, after only about two hours of sleep. Even after all these years of working twenty-four-hour shifts, he still can’t get used to daytime sleep. Daniel is sound asleep, and the TV is tuned in to the golf channel. He touches Daniel’s cheek to check his temperature; it feels normal. Climbing out of bed, he calls Sherry.
“Anything on UTube?”
“No.”
“Maybe they’re spooked, and there won’t be any posting.”
“Maybe, but I don’t think they’re going to let it pass.”
“Why is that?”
“I’ve a feeling the rapes weren’t the primary motive.”
“I don’t follow.”
“Initially, my theories were trophy collection, power play they can revisit to jerk off. The possibility of extortion did cross my mind, too. But when they posted the video on UTube, my theories don’t hold water anymore.”
“OK, so what’s your new theory?”
“The rapes are manifestations of their real motive. Something they did to prove a point, to demonstrate something.”
“You lost me there.”
“If it’s rape for the pure purpose of rape, for sexual pleasure or a display of male dominance, why post it on the net? Perverts usually record it for their own viewing pleasure.”
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