UTube

by Rozlan Mohd Noor

Pulling Karim aside, he points to Azuandin sitting in the living room.

  “Who is that?”

  “Az … Az—

  “I know his name’s Azuandin,” Mislan retorts. “Is he one of your housemates?”

  “N … n …” Karim shakes his head. “He’s Ra … Ra … Radin’s friend. I, I, I don’t know him. He al … al … always goes out w … w … with Ra … Ra … Radin only.”

  “Is he a member of the same anti-LGBT group as Radin?”

  “I … I … I only hear them ta … talk about it. Ra … Ra … Radin never t … ta … talks about it to me.”

  “What did you hear them talk about?”

  “Me … me … meeting.”

  “What meeting, where?”

  “In P … P … PJ.”

  “Where in PJ?”

  “I … I … don’t know.”

  “Who else from this house goes to the meeting?”

  “I … I don’t know.”

  Johan alerts Mislan that Forensics found something hidden in the ceiling near the water tank. Mislan tells Deena to watch Karim and goes into the bathroom, where a Forensics team member is standing on a chair placed on a table, his head and shoulders above the ceiling.

  “What is it?” Mislan asks.

  “Looks like a backpack wrapped in a garbage bag,” the technician says.

  “Snap some photos of it first,” the supervisor instructs him.

  “OK, hand me a camera,” he says to the team’s photographer.

  “It’s on auto; just click the shutter. Take a few shots to be sure.”

  The technician returns the camera when he’s done.

  “Now, take out the bag and hold it at the opening in the ceiling. I need pictures of you doing that,” the photographer says.

  Sherry, who has already snapped on her latex gloves, grabs the backpack as it is lowered, unzips it impatiently, and exclaims: “It’s a laptop.”

  The cameraman takes a few more pictures of the backpack with the laptop inside.

  “Please let it be an Apple,” Sherry says softly, as she pulls out the computer. She sees the Apple logo and cries out excitedly.

  “We’ve got it.”

  Deena comes running to the bathroom, dragging Karim by his shirt.

  “Let me see it, let me see it.”

  Mislan and Johan laugh at the sight of her dragging the terrified Karim. Just then, Johan realizes no one is guarding Azuandin in the living room. He dashes out just in time to see the detainee’s leg disappearing out the door.

  Johan shouts, “He’s getting away!” and runs after him.

  Mislan and Sherry rush to the living room. They hear a heavy thud followed by a scream as Johan’s flying rugby tackle brings down the escaping Azuandin in the corridor.

  Mislan catches up with them and yanks the detainee up by his hair. His clenched fist is ready to deliver a blow, when Sherry catches hold of his hand.

  “No Mislan, you don’t want to do that,” she says calmly.

  “Like hell I don’t.”

  Johan gets up and pulls the detainee away from his boss. Even so, Mislan manages to deliver a kick to the detainee’s buttock. Then he leans against the railing and lights a cigarette. Sherry joins him and asks for one.

  After several quiet puffs she asks, “You OK?”

  “Why shouldn’t I be? We’ve got the evidence to link Ape-Man and that asshole to the case.”

  “Yes, we do, and all due to your instincts and perseverance. Look, Mislan, I’m not going to bullshit you. It’s not easy working with you, and your methods are beyond anything I’ve experienced. But I can see you always devote yourself to the case, and you’re hell-bent on getting closure. Those are qualities I don’t really possess or have observed in others I’ve worked with.” She takes a light puff on the cigarette. “If you need me to testify on your behalf at the disciplinary hearing, I’m all yours.”

  He glances at her.

  “I mean it. Just say the word.”

  “Thanks, but I don’t need you to lie for me. I did what I thought was best. I don’t regret it. I only hope I don’t take ma’am or you down with me.”

  “In these investigations we’re partners, remember that.”

  She crushes her cigarette and walks back into the apartment.

  Mislan’s cell phone rings.

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “I heard the news, well done. Are you still there?” Samsiah asks.

  “Yes, Sherry is tidying up.”

  “Is she still holding a team debriefing at eight?”

  “Yes,” he says, looking at his cell phone screen, “but I guess it’ll be slightly delayed. We have to clean up here first.”

  “Let me know when you arrive. I’d like to sit in.”

  “You’re still at the office?”

  “Yes. Lan, tell the team ‘well done.’”

  49

  SUPERINTENDENT SAMSIAH AND ASSISTANT Superintendent of Police Amir Muhammad from the ISCD watch the video obtained from the Pelita restaurant. The footage started with the customers suddenly looking up from their food at something that caught their attention. Some customers were seen hastily backing away. Inspector Sherry appeared with a hand raised over her head, holding her authority card. She appeared to be saying something. Moments later, Inspector Mislan stepped in front of her with both hands raised to the ceiling. In his right hand his service Beretta and his left palm opened facing outward. He, too, seemed to be addressing the customers. The two officers exchanged words, and Inspector Sherry disappeared from camera range. After a few seconds, Inspector Mislan also disappeared from the frame.

  “What do you think of it?” Samsiah asks.

  “Looks harmless enough, but drawing his sidearm in a situation like that is going to be hard to justify,” Amir says.

  “I’d love to know what he was saying,” she says. “On second thought, it’d be better if we don’t.”

  “What was his justification?”

  “That the public doesn’t recognize police authority cards and that he needed the customers to stop whatever they were doing instantly.”

  Amir looks at her quizzically.

  “They’re looking for someone who was online at the restaurant at that moment. He was afraid the suspect would delete evidence from the laptop. In his skewed mind, the public recognizes handguns and will respond to a demand by a man with a gun. In some ways, he’s right. Look at Sherry holding up her authority card. No one seems to give a damn.”

  “He may be right, but the rule for drawing a sidearm is clear: only when the officer’s life, or that of others, is in danger, and I don’t see any of that,” Amir says. “He was using his sidearm as an authority card to attract attention and to get the public to comply. That’s a no-no,” Amir summarizes.

  Samsiah agrees with him. “Do what you need to. Hopefully, it’ll knock some sense into his thick skull.”

  “But there is something else, right?” Amir says, noting the look on Samsiah’s face.

  Samsiah nods. “I need you to slow-paddle this one, maybe to Tuesday. He’s making headway into the cases and taking him out now will delay it…. I don’t know how long. It could even turn the cases cold.”

  “The UTube Serial Rapes?”

  Samsiah nods.

  “No promises, ma’am. I’ll see what I can do.”

  The task force members wait anxiously. Saifuddin has announced the raiding team is on the way back. The atmosphere is one of jubilation and celebration. Someone suggests food and drinks for the raiding party, who would surely not have had dinner. Detective Dorai volunteers to procure some karipap and packed nasi lemak. Detectives Mokthar and Yahaya wash the mugs and make fresh pots of coffee and tea. Saifuddin, who is cleaning the ashtray, suggests they bring back the stand fan.

  “Knowing your Inspector Mislan, I expect a long night.”

  The raiding team comes into the task force room in high spirits and to a rousing welcome. Sherry instructs Deena to put Azuandin in the interview r
oom and send Karim back to the lockup. She informs Superintendent Samsiah that debriefing will start in fifteen minutes.

  “What’s this?” Sherry asks. “I’ve never had such a reception from you guys before.”

  “We thought you’d be hungry,” Dorai says. “We all chipped in and got karipap and nasi lemak.”

  “Thank you. That was really thoughtful of you guys.”

  Mislan goes for the coffee and lights a cigarette. He looks at the clock and asks Sherry if there’s a TV set in the office.

  “There’s one in the detectives’ room. Why?”

  “To see if we made the news,” he says and heads for the door.

  Superintendent Samsiah appears at the door just as Mislan is about to leave. “Where are you going?”

  “To the gents,” he lies.

  “To catch the news on TV, to see if he’s made prime time,” Sherry snitches, chuckling.

  Mislan gives her a dirty look.

  “Since when have you been interested in making the news?” Samsiah says, and points him to a chair. “What are you guys celebrating? Has the detainee admitted to the rapes?”

  Some shake their heads, and Dorai explains it’s in anticipation of a long night.

  “Let’s start then. Who’s chairing?”

  “Sherry’s the lead, therefore she chairs,” Mislan answers, still annoyed with her.

  The team is updated on the latest raid and evidence uncovered. Sherry pauses and turns to Mislan with a do-you-want-to-take-over-from-here look. Mislan, who seems to be disengaged from what’s going on, misses her offer. Samsiah, noticing the exchange, senses something amiss.

  “Lan, what’s bothering you?” she asks.

  Mislan lifts his head. “Eh?”

  “You seem disinterested. Like … perhaps we’re wasting your time.”

  “No, no. I’m sorry if I gave you that impression. I was only going through all we have in my head. How do we connect the evidence to our suspects?”

  “Would you like to share your thoughts?”

  “I think we should let Sherry finish the briefing and instructions so we can let the men off to do what needs to be done.”

  Samsiah nods to Sherry to go ahead. She concludes her briefing, assigns tasks, and dismisses her team. As the men file out, she asks Johan and Deena to remain. When they’ve left, she asks, “Sai, what’s the result of the voice-match you did on Ape-Man?”

  “Inconclusive. Some similarities but not sufficient for a positive match.”

  “It’s Forensic’s way of saying they got nothing,” Mislan mocks him.

  “Not exactly, but close,” Saifuddin says, defensively. “You have to understand, voice analysis isn’t as simple as fingerprint matching. Pitch and tone vary with situations and moods,” he explains. “Even the recording medium—”

  “OK, OK, I got it. I’m sorry,” Mislan apologizes. “Can you do one on Azuandin?”

  “If we can get him to talk,” Johan says.

  “Make him talk. Get a court order for him to talk, if that’s what it takes.”

  “Can we do that?” Deena asks.

  “You can get a court order for anything,” Johan jokes.

  “Use your charm. We’re not going to use the evidence in court,” Samsiah says. Addressing Mislan, she says, “Let’s hear your thoughts, before we all die from your secondhand smoke.”

  “Can I make a quick call first?” he asks, pulling out his cell phone.

  He walks out of the room and calls home.

  “Hey, kiddo. Had your dinner yet?”

  “Yes, where’re you? Aren’t you coming home early today?” Daniel asks.

  “Daddy’s still at the office. You sleep with Sister tonight, OK.”

  “OK.”

  “Kiddo,” he takes a deep breath. “About going to the driving range tomorrow, Daddy doesn’t think we can. Daddy’s got this—”

  “It’s OK, I want to go play football with Nasir. Can I, Daddy?”

  “Sure, kiddo,” he says, relieved. “Take some pocket money for drinks and have fun.”

  “OK, Daddy.”

  “Daddy’s got to go. Love you, kiddo.”

  “Love you, too.”

  50

  MISLAN GOES OVER THE evidence and facts presented by Sherry. He looks at Sherry, Johan, Deena, and Saifuddin and sees their initial exhilaration being burst. When he finishes, he takes a deep breath.

  “I’m not trying to throw a wet blanket over all your achievements. You all did a great job. However, all that we’ve got till now is circumstantial—incriminating but still circumstantial.”

  Superintendent Samsiah nods in agreement.

  “Where are the direct links between the murder and rapes to the suspects? We can’t put any of them at the scene of the crimes, not even in the video.” He pauses and takes another deep breath. “No murder weapon, no DNA, no semen-stained clothing, no eyewitness. Hell, we don’t even have a solid motive.” He sighs. “If we take the case to him now,” he says, jerking his head upward, “he’ll persuade our ambitious DPP to charge the suspects just so he can look good. The case will get thrown out, and the two will walk.”

  Samsiah sees the frustration in her investigator’s eyes and hears it in his voice. He is a reckless nonconformist and high-handed sometimes. But she has never doubted his dedication.

  “Do you have a suggestion?” she asks.

  He simply looks at her, defeated.

  “We work on the suspects,” Sherry says. “We work them until either they break or we do.”

  “Sai, what else can you give us from the two laptops?” Samsiah asks.

  Saifuddin hesitates. “I’m not sure where we stand on this legally.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I can, if you want me to, break into their emails, but I’m not sure if that’ll be breaking any law. It’ll be like hacking.”

  “Do it. We’ll think about technicalities later,” Samsiah says firmly, taking charge. “Lan and Sherry, organize interview teams for the two suspects. I’ll get SB to lend a hand.”

  The room goes quiet as Samsiah pauses to collect her thoughts.

  “What scares me most is the interval between the second and third cases. Only three days.”

  “They’re getting bolder,” Sherry says.

  “Or they got the go signal,” Mislan counters.

  “What do you mean?”

  “At the risk of sounding like a broken record, I’ll say it again. These rapes aren’t acts of opportunity or lust. The way I see it, there are several teams out there, waiting and ready to go. Targets have been selected and monitored, preparations have been made, and they’re only waiting for the go-go-go order.”

  “So, who’s making the call?”

  “I don’t know, but if we nail him, the rapes will stop.”

  “We could work on the ones we have to try and ID him,” Sherry says.

  “Jo, you and Deena go through all their phones. Look for common contact numbers. Find out whose numbers they are, and get a list of calls made over the last three months.”

  “Wow, that’s going to take ages,” Deena says.

  “Get the service providers to do the cross-checking; they have the software. It’ll only take minutes if you provide them the numbers,” Saifuddin interjects. “If they’re not willing, I can write a short program for it.”

  “Good. Let’s see if Mislan’s right,” says Samsiah, ending the briefing.

  Samsiah signals for Mislan to follow her as she leaves. Sherry stands to follow, too, but Samsiah holds up her hand to stop her. As they walk to the elevator, she asks, “How are you holding up?”

  Mislan smiles. “I’m not even thinking about it.”

  “Is there anything I can do for you?”

  “No, ma’am, thanks,” he says. “I suppose it’s long overdue, and I’m kind of glad it’s finally happening. Will be a good experience to see what it’s going to do to me. I’m only sorry if my conduct has gotten you or Sherry into a situation.”
/>
  “You’re one weird man. Any other officer would be devastated, but you want to see what it feels like. I should send your DNA for analysis and see if you’re human,” she jokes. The elevator door opens. Stepping in, she says, “Let me know if you change your mind.”

  “There’s one thing you can do for me.”

  Holding the elevator door open, she asks, “Name it.”

  “Can you pressure Fakurrulah? I’m sure the SB has something on these guys. Maybe some low-grade intel about LGBT persecution. That information might give us the lead we need.”

  “I will,” she says, disappointed, having expected something else, something personal.

  51

  IN THE INTERVIEW ROOM, Mislan is having a staring match with Azuandin, who hasn’t said a word since being brought in two hours back. The suspect totally ignores his questions but stares at him expressionlessly. Mislan has no success in breaking him with talk of prison terms. His attempts to provoke him into a debate on LGBT lifestyles ended with similar results. Mislan looks at his cell phone screen for the time. He calls the standby detective to guard the suspect and leaves the room.

  His legs wobble. He’s mentally and physically exhausted. He tries to remember when he last slept. By reflex, his hand reaches for his pack of cigarettes. “Shit, the last stick.” He lights it, crushes the box, and throws it away. He pokes his head through the door of the second interview room, where Sherry is interviewing the Ape-Man, and beckons to her.

  “Any progress?”

  She shakes her head.

  “Still giving me the same story. Yours?”

  “Not a word. Can you believe it, two hours and not a damn word,” he swears, crushing his cigarette. “Hey, can you get one of the detectives to buy me a pack of cigarettes? I’m all out.”

  Sherry calls one of the detectives.

  “You should slow down a little. Those things are going to kill you.”

  Mislan ignores her. “How are Jo and Deena doing?”

  “I don’t know, let’s go ask.”

  Stepping into the task force room, he asks no one in particular, “How’s it going?”

  They look up from their work, and Saifuddin says, “I’ve gone through the laptops, there’re email logs of the original owners but nothing from our suspects.”