Mislan walks to the entrance, lights a cigarette, and nods to his men. He watches as the man gets on his motorcycle and rides off, with two of his men on his tail.
At midnight, Mislan calls off the stakeout and drives back to the office, where he tells Johan to locate a sketch artist to do a composite drawing of the man Wahab dubbed Ape-Man.
“It’s for our use only. Not for the public.”
“What about him?” Johan asks, indicating Wahab.
“We can’t assume his noninvolvement until we get Ape-Man into custody. Also, I don’t want to attract attention to the case. Detain him for suspected housebreaking, and send him for remand.”
“He seemed to be on the level, cooperative.”
“They all do, Jo, until we get to the truth. Explain it to him. It’s only a precaution we need to take.”
Johan looks at Sherry, expecting an intervention.
“Mislan’s right, we can’t take the risk.” she reluctantly concurs. “Take him out daily for a decent meal. The sooner we get Ape-Man, the earlier we can clear him.”
Johan leaves to make the necessary arrangements.
“The detectives are still monitoring the house where the nasi lemak man is. What do you want them to do?” she asks.
“Anything interesting happening there?”
“Depends on what you mean by interesting. They noticed some young men coming and going.”
“Gambling?”
“Could be.”
“No women?”
“Just men.”
“Hmmm.”
When Johan returns to the office, Mislan tells him to check with Gaming, Secret Society, and Anti-Vice (D7) for any information about the apartment where the nasi lemak man is. Johan checks and tells him they have no information.
“Sherry, do your boys know who owns, or rents, that apartment?”
“They’ve asked around and have been told it’s rented by college students. What’re you thinking?”
“Tell your boys to find out the name of the student renting the apartment.”
“Why?”
“A hunch, that’s all.”
Johan laughs. “Something’s brewing,” he says to Sherry.
Sherry calls her men while Mislan lights a cigarette, determined to fully enjoy his one-month privilege.
38
THEY REACH KAMPUNG BARU at 3:10 a.m. and park at the LRT station. Kampung Baru is a three-hundred-acre piece of prime land in the heart of the city. Designated by the government as Malay Reserve, the land there can only be owned by the Malays. It was an area where you went to delight in Malay architecture and heritage but not anymore. The area is dotted with new buildings and filled with Indonesian migrants selling their traditional food. Most of the houses are still wooden and clustered close together.
At Mislan’s signal, Johan leads a team through the side and back lanes toward the target. Mislan and Sherry walk casually along Jalan Hassan Salleh toward the PKNS flats. When Johan reports that his team is in position, Sherry makes a call, and one of her detectives walks up the main street to meet them.
“Any developments?”
“The lights are on, but it’s difficult to get close without being noticed.”
“Is the nasi lemak man still inside?”
The detective nods. “Yahaya’s watching the unit.”
“Let’s go,” Mislan says.
On the ground floor of the block, Mislan heads for the elevator.
“It’s out of order.” Mokthar tells him.
“Shit. Which floor is it?”
“Second.”
They go up the stairs to find detective Yahaya crouching on the second-floor landing, watching the unit.
Seeing the team arrive, he sighs in relief.
“So glad to see you guys. My back hurts from all that bending,” he says.
“Let’s move,” Mislan says. “You two take this side of the door. Sherry and I will take the other.”
As they walk past the unit, they hear conversation from inside. Once in position, Mislan nods to Sherry. She knocks on the door and announces, “Police, open the door.”
The conversation stops, and they hear sounds of movement.
Sherry knocks harder and calls out more urgently, “Police! Open the door!”
Mislan puts his ear to the wooden door and hears murmuring. He tells Sherry to step aside and rams the door hard with his shoulder. The door rattles, but does not yield. Holding his sore shoulder, he barks at the two detectives to kick it down. They stand two feet away, ready to kick it down, when it swings open. The nasi lemak man stands in the doorway. Mislan pushes him into the house and steps in. He sees four other men on the sofa pretending to be watching TV. None of them look like Wahab’s Ape-Man. Nasi lemak man begins to protest and demands the raiding party leave his apartment immediately.
“Shut up and sit down,” Mislan snaps at him.
The nasi lemak man stands his ground and dares him, “If not, what?”
Mislan says to the two detectives, “Arrest him for obstruction.”
When the two detectives approach, the nasi lemak man pushes them away, growling, “Obstructing what? You come into my house. I’ve the right to protect my property.”
“Your rights ended when we introduced ourselves. Don’t make it worse than it already is,” Yahaya tells him.
The four men, who are pretending to watch TV, try to intervene, but Mislan holds his hand up and barks at the nasi lemak man, “Sit.”
Sherry tells them they are from the Sexual & Child Abuse Investigations Division and asks who owns or is the main tenant of the unit.
The nasi lemak man says he is.
“This is a search warrant for the unit,” Sherry says, handing him the warrant. “Can all of you produce your identity card, please?”
The four men on the sofa look at one another but do not move.
Yahaya steps toward them. “Are you deaf? Ma’am asked for your ICs.”
When one of them stands to get his identity card, Sherry sees some documents on the sofa under him. She picks one up and studies it.
“What do we have here?” she says, handing it to Mislan.
He looks at it, and orders all of them to stand. Pulling the cushions off the sofa, he finds more fliers and booklets. He calls Johan, tells him to bring the cars around, and to come up to the flat.
“Sherry, search the apartment. I bet there’s more.”
“Do you think we should call in the SB?”
“Special Branch? Let the bosses handle that. I don’t want them running away with our case.”
When Johan arrives with his team, a crowd has already gathered on the ground floor and in the stairwell. As he’s entering the building, he sees Audi, the investigative reporter, in the crowd. She waves to him.
“What’s going on here?” she asks Johan, when he manages to push himself through the crowd.
“I don’t know. Why don’t you ask my boss? How did you know about this?” he inquires.
She laughs. “It’s my job to know. Can you tell your boss I’m here?”
“Sure,” he says.
Johan tells Mislan about meeting Audi outside when he finally gets to the unit.
“Jo, make sure the entire house is searched. I want to have a chat with Audi.”
“Who’s the lead for this?” Johan asks.
“Sherry.”
Downstairs, Mislan beckons for Audi to follow him as he walks away from the crowd. He lights a cigarette and offers Audi one.
“What brings you here?”
“After your call, I did some digging and found an article about a gathering of NGOs and student bodies protesting against the ‘alternative culture’ at the UPM stadium recently. Then I got a tip about a raid on a student’s apartment. I put two and two together, and here I am.”
“You mean Universiti Putra Malaysia stadium?”
“Yes, it was held last week. They wanted to hold it at Dataran Merdeka, but their application was turned down
by City Hall. They plan to hold a bigger one the next time.”
“Can I see the article?”
“I knew you’d want to.” She digs into her back pocket and hands him a paper clipping.
He reads it before putting it in his own pocket. “How big is this anti-LGBT movement?”
“I don’t know. Remember the Seksualiti Merdeka event that was banned by the government? The most vocal protestors against sexuality rights were from Muslim NGOs and religious groups.”
“You told me the first victim’s partner is on the committee of Seksualiti Merdeka. How can I find out if the other victims are members of this Lesbian … Gay movement?”
“It’s Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, Transgender, and Queer, or LGBTQ. I guess you can call them and ask.”
“Can you find out for me?”
“I can try. Wouldn’t it be easier for you to check? You know, use your police powers,” she says as a taunt.
“I don’t want to stir things up. Not until I’m sure.”
“Sure of what? What’s your theory? Come on, Inspector, throw some crumbs my way.”
“It’s not like you to beg,” he chortles. “Hey, thanks for this info, but I have to go. Got to clear this place up before it turns into a circus.”
“Call me if something breaks.”
39
IT IS 6:05 A.M. by the time the raiding party and their detainees reach the Kuala Lumpur Police Contingent Headquarters. Mislan suggests to Sherry that the five detainees be kept in separate rooms in the Special Investigations and Sexual & Child Abuse Investigations Departments.
“Keep them apart until we can establish what the hell we have.”
“Are you going to update ma’am?”
“We both are, once we know what we’ve got.” He looks at his watch. “It’s almost six thirty; we start the interview at seven. Let’s mess with their heads a little first. Tell the detectives to stand guard outside the room and not say a word, don’t ask them anything or answer any questions.”
Sherry smiles. “What’s that supposed to do to them?”
“Under these circumstances, thirty minutes will seem like thirty hours to them. By the time we go into the room, they’ll want to hug and kiss us,” he says. “Tell the detectives to play with the lights as well. Switch it off for a minute now and then.”
“You’re a nutcase.”
“Think about it, Sherry. Aren’t they screwing with our minds, too, as they did with the victims’? I’m only playing their game and, hopefully, we’ll come out on top.”
Mislan and Sherry decide to interview the nasi lemak man themselves. The detective guarding the door hands over the nasi lemak man’s identity card and tells them that the detainee has no criminal record. Entering the room, they are instantly bombarded with demands and threats. Mislan ignores him, takes a seat, and lights a cigarette. He reads the suspect’s ID, then puts it on the table. The nasi lemak man keeps going on about his unlawful detention. Mislan gives him one of his oh-shut-up glares that stops him momentarily.
“Muhammad Jamali bin Muhammad Ali from Alor Setar, Kedah,” Mislan reads out loud from the identity card. “Are you a radical?”
“I don’t know what you mean by that,” Jamali answers defiantly.
Sherry leans toward Mislan and whispers, “Don’t you want to caution him first?”
Mislan signals Sherry to follow him out of the interview room. Closing the door, he says “We’re not recording a statement from him. We’ll leave that to SB. This is only an interview for information.”
“What if he’s connected to the case?”
“Then we’re screwed,” Mislan replies indifferently.
“I’m the lead, and I say we go by the book,” Sherry says.
“What about the rest of them? Are you going to caution and interview all of them?”
“If that’s what it takes to make the case, yes, I will. This is the only lead we have, and I’m not letting your street tactics blow it.”
“Look, what do we know about the nasi lemak man?” Mislan says, softening his tone. “Wahab says he saw him with the Ape-Man. That’s all. Ape-Man bought the laptop from Wahab … and he was alone. My theory is, our nasi lemak man knows who Ape-Man is, but my gut feeling is that he and the others aren’t involved in the crimes. By now, news of the raid would have reached all other anti-LGBT groups, and we need to get Ape-Man’s identity quickly before he hears about it and goes into hiding.”
Sherry remains unconvinced and is adamant about going by the book. “I wish I were as sure as you are.”
“Okay, let’s do it this way, you go and make arrangements with SB for them to take over this case. In the meantime, I’ll talk to the nasi lemak man. That way, we can still use the statement obtained by SB, which will be done by the book. And if ma’am questions you as to why the interview was done without the caution, you can play dumb and blame me.”
“You have all the answers, don’t you?”
“Not all, not yet.”
When Mislan returns to the interview room alone, Muhammad Jamali starts his protests again.
“Shut up and listen,” Mislan barks. “You’ve got a few minutes before the Special Branch officers come and take you away. Do you know what that means? You’ll be locked up somewhere and forgotten.” Mislan pauses, and watches the detainee’s reaction.
“Why? I haven’t done anything wrong,” Jamali squeaks.
“Nothing wrong? What do you call these?” Mislan snaps at him, banging the leaflets on the table, making the detainee flinch. “Inciting violence against the LGBT … labeling them freaks, deviants, and polluters of society.”
“Their lifestyle is against the teaching of Islam, and as a Muslim—”
“You’re right. It’s their lifestyle. Who appointed you the guardian of their lifestyle? They don’t incite others to denounce yours,” Mislan hisses.
Jamali starts to say something, and Mislan holds up his hand.
“I’m not here to debate with you, that’s the work of the Special Branch.” He digs into his back pocket and takes out a piece of paper and spreads it on the table. “Who is this?” he asks, staring unblinkingly at the nasi lemak man.
Jamali remains silent.
Mislan slaps the table again. “Who the fuck is this?”
“Radin. Radin Yasin,” Jamali blurts out.
“How do you know him?”
“We met once at a gathering.”
“How about at the Dewan Sultan Sulaiman nasi lemak stall?”
“I bumped into him there a few times, and we talked.”
“Is he a member of your group?”
“No. He told me he runs his own group.”
“Where can I find him?”
“I don’t know. You can call him. His number is in my cell phone.”
“Why didn’t you tell me that earlier? Dickhead!”
Mislan goes out and asks the detective for Muhammad Jamali’s cell phone. Back in the interview room, he has the suspect unlock the phone, then scrolls down the contact list for Radin’s number, copies it, and deletes it from the phone’s memory.
“What sort of group is he running?”
“Same as mine, I suppose.”
“What did you talk to him about?”
“Stuff.”
“What stuff?”
Jamali indicates the leaflets and booklets.
“And you think the LGBT people are sick? It’s people like you who are sick,” Mislan snarls at him and walks out.
40
THE HEADS OF SPECIAL Investigations and Sexual & Child Abuse Investigations sit quietly as the OCCI rants about the incompetence of their investigating officers.
“How many more rapes do we need before you break this case? Three, four, how many?” He grabs the newspaper lying on his table and slams it in front of them. “Have you read what they’re saying about me?”
He grabs another newspaper and slams it on top of the first.
“Listen to this: After the third case, th
e police still have no lead. Do you know how that makes me look?”
Samsiah cracks a tiny smile.
“I want these cases solved immediately. I’m going to call for a PC and tell them the case will be solved in the next forty-eight hours.”
“And if it’s not?” Samsiah ventures.
“Heads will roll, and I’m sure you know whose.”
“That’s not important.” Samsiah says calmly. “What’s more important is how you will be perceived by the public, giving them an assurance that we’ve no certainty of delivering.”
SAC Burhanuddin remains silent, and his face contorts with anger.
“May I suggest you proceed with your press conference?” Samsiah eases in slowly. “Tell them we’re making progress, but we’re unable to release specifics at the moment. We’re also working closely with Selangor police, trying to establish the relationships between the cases.” She notes a flicker of excitement in the publicity junkie’s eyes. She throws in a sweetener. “Forensic managed to obtain blood samples from an accident scene that we believe are from the suspects. We’re currently waiting for the DNA results.”
“Samsiah’s right. That’ll satisfy the media,” Lillian adds. “The task force is making progress.”
The OCCI nods, and his expression softens.
“You can also tell them that you’re bringing in investigators from Bukit Aman to join the task force,” Samsiah suggests, pushing it.
“And let them take all the glory?” Burhanuddin sneers. “Get out of here and get me the culprits.”
Sherry and Assistant Superintendent of Police Fakurrulah Mois from Special Branch are waiting for Superintendent Samsiah when she enters the task force room. Sherry introduces Fakurrulah and updates them.
“Where’s Mislan?”
Sherry ignores Samsiah’s question and hands her a leaflet and booklet. “These were recovered from the apartment.”
Samsiah briefly reads the leaflet and booklet. Turning to the Special Branch officer, she asks, “Are you aware of this group?”
“Not specifically, but we’re monitoring these anti-LGBT movements. They held a rally at UPM with student bodies and NGOs. They’re planning to hold another one, on a bigger scale, soon.”
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