While DSP Chandramala briefs her, Mislan and Dr. Suthisa review some of the articles written in English. Haliman a.k.a. Halil has a doctorate in Social Science from the University of Wales and was attached to the Institute of Strategic and International Studies in Kuala Lumpur before he moved on to lecture at a private university. He is also the author of several articles on the influences of Western lifestyles on Eastern culture.
“Listen to this.” Mislan says.
“The acceptance of same-sex marriages by some Western countries has given hope to the local LGBT movement. Seksualiti Merdeka was mooted to test public acceptance.”
“I don’t see anything in his articles that could be deemed provocative,” Dr. Suthisa says.
“An intellectual reading another intellectual’s paper will deem it so, but a nonintellectual, like me, will interpret it differently,” Mislan rebuts.
“Point taken.”
61
IT IS AFTER MIDNIGHT when Mislan and Johan walk into the KOSMO office in Jalan Chan Sow Lin. They introduce themselves to the security and ask to see the person in charge. The security guard tells them the office is closed and suggests they come back on Monday.
“Is there anyone working in there now?”
The guard nods.
“Who’s in charge?”
The security guard telephones someone.
“The editor, Mr. Aziz, is still in the office, but he’s leaving soon.”
“Tell him we need to see him urgently.”
The guard telephones again, then tells the police officers he’s coming down. Mislan lights a cigarette, walks back to the car, and leans against it. Johan watches his boss and knows he must be exhausted, mentally and physically. He also knows that stepping away to be alone is his boss’s way of controlling his temper. But Johan knows that, most of all, Mislan is worried he won’t be able to get closure before he’s suspended on Monday.
A man comes out of the main building, walking toward them. Johan calls his boss, and jerks his head at the approaching man.
“Mr. Aziz, good morning, thank you for coming to meet us. I’m Detective Sergeant Johan from Special Investigations, Kuala Lumpur.”
“Yes, Detective Sergeant, how may I help you?”
Mislan approaches them, and Johan makes the introductions.
“Mr. Aziz, we need particulars about one of your contributors, a Dr. Haliman Ilyas,” Mislan says.
“I’m not sure if I can do that without a court order.”
“Mr. Aziz, I don’t think you want us to do that,” Mislan says.
The editor stares at him challengingly, and Johan steps in.
“Mr. Aziz, we’re investigating a murder and series of rapes. We believe Dr. Haliman can assist us in our investigation. Delaying our opportunity to talk to him may result in another woman being raped. I’m sure you don’t want that on your conscience.”
“Don’t pull the conscience bullshit on me. We only report the news, we don’t make it,” Aziz reproves.
“How would it look if word was to leak out that your paper refused to give vital information to the police that could have prevented another rape?” Mislan asks.
“Are you threatening me?”
“Threatening? No. We’re officers of the law. Threatening the press is unconstitutional and a serious offense,” Johan says. “We’re just seeking your cooperation.”
The editor is silent and looks around as if to ensure that no one is listening. “I suppose it’s OK. He’s not listed as a confidential source. Let’s go up to my office.”
As they walk out of the building with the particulars, Mislan calls Sherry and gives her the address.
“Can you lead the pickup of the suspect?”
“Are you not coming?”
“No, I’ll wait at the office.”
“Mislan, are you OK?”
“Never felt better.”
“Seriously, are you OK?”
“Yes, just a little beat. I’ll wait for you at the office. Hey, don’t start getting yourself into the news: that’s my job,” he kids.
After Mislan’s phone call, Johan asks him, “Why don’t you want to go pick him up?”
“I don’t want to start something I can’t finish.”
“Meaning?”
“It’s already Sunday, and by the time we get anywhere with him, I’ll be on my way home for a long rest.”
Johan looks at his boss, not knowing what to say. Having worked together for more than five years, he knows what closure means to Mislan. They drive back to the office in silence.
In the task force room, he finds Dr. Suthisa still reading the articles on or by Dr. Haliman. Saifuddin and Deena are napping at the table. Saifuddin opens his eyes when Mislan enters and smiles apologetically.
Mislan winks at him and says, “It’s all right, you need it.”
Saifuddin returns to his original position, resting his head on his folded arms, eyes closed.
“How’s the reading, Doc?”
“Fascinating.”
“In what way?”
“His arguments are interesting, yet he isn’t supporting them with any data. He has formatted the articles to resemble scholarly papers, and they could even deceive some academics. I think he published them on the net because they fall short of the strict requirements of academic journals.”
“I’m sure he chooses his media carefully.”
“By that, you mean?”
“How many readers would he get if his works were accepted and published in academic journals, a handful of intellectuals? Then he’d have to deal with rebuttals and dissenting opinions.” Mislan lights a cigarette and offers one to her, which she declines. “However, if these are presented in the public media, they’ll be read by the uninformed members of the public who’ll more than likely take them as true.”
“True.”
“His target’s the layperson, people who are easily incited and manipulated.”
62
DSP CHANDRAMALA AND INSPECTOR Sherry escort the suspect, Dr. Haliman, into the interview room equipped with the remote camera. Their image on the monitor attracts Mislan’s attention, and he looks closer. He shakes Saifuddin gently and points to the monitor.
“Is this being recorded?”
“No,” Saifuddin answers, rubbing his eyes. “You want to record it?”
“Yes.”
Saifuddin hits some keys. “OK, now it is.”
Dr. Suthisa puts down her reading material and stands behind them. “Can you zoom in on his face?”
Saifuddin punches a few more keys. Dr. Haliman Illyas’s face fills the screen.
“Tell me, Inspector, what do you see?”
“It’s what I don’t see that worries me,” Mislan says, staring at the monitor.
Dr. Suthisa nods.
“Most people read the obvious. Interestingly, you read what’s missing from the face.”
They see DSP Chandramala leave and, moments later, appear at the task force room door.
“That’s one confident man,” Chandramala says. “When we introduced ourselves at his house, he invited us in politely and even offered us drinks. Imagine the police knocking at your door at two in the morning and you invite them in for drinks?”
Dr. Suthisa asks, “How did he react when you told him he was under arrest?”
“When Sherry told him, he was calm, he made no threats, dropped no names … nothing. He only asked if he could change into something more appropriate.”
“I’m not surprised. He was probably expecting us and was prepared,” Mislan says.
“In other words, you’re telling us to expect a tough nut.”
“If we can crack him at all.”
“You and Sherry will be doing the first round. I’ll take over with Dr. Sophia next.”
“With due respect, ma’am, I don’t think Dr. Sophia should be involved in the interviews. She has no legal standing here.”
“I agree with Inspector Mislan,” Dr. Suthisa say
s.
“May I suggest ma’am and Sherry conduct the interview? I’d like to sit this one out.”
“Any reason?”
“Just tired.”
They look at him suspiciously but let it pass.
“Can I have Sherry in here first?” Dr. Suthisa asks. “I’d like her to wear an earpiece so I can prompt her.”
“Certainly. Mislan, can you get D6 to fit her with one?” Chandramala asks. D6 is the Technical Aid Department.
Sherry takes the suspect through the formalities. The suspect acknowledges he understands the caution and signs the caution form. His manner is polite and cooperative.
“Do you wish to be addressed as Dr. Haliman, or can I drop the title?” Sherry asks.
“Just Halim, please. Thank you.”
Sherry asks if he wishes to make a statement or answer questions regarding a murder and four rape cases they are investigating.
“I’m sorry, I don’t have any statement to make as I don’t know anything about the cases, except for what I read in the papers. However, I’ll cooperate fully and answer any questions to the best of my ability and knowledge.”
“Thank you, we’d appreciate that,” Chandramala says, mocking his politeness.
“Can you tell us your relationship with Mohammad Zainon Mohammad Hadi?”
“You mean Pak Non? Well, there’s no ‘relationship,’” he says, holding up his hands and making quote marks in the air. “I knew him casually when I was lecturing. I believe he’s with the Higher Education Ministry.”
“Smooth,” Mislan says, listening in from the task force room. “Come on, Sherry, throw him a curveball. Catch him off guard,” he says, into her earpiece.
He notes Sherry imperceptibly glance at the camera before asking, “And, what did Pak Non regard you as?”
“You know, I really don’t know,” he answers with a fake laugh. “But if I were to guess, it would be as a doctor. That’s what nonteaching academics holding a PhD are called.”
“Really?” Chandramala interjects.
“I’m sorry,” he says, sounding surprised. “Did he claim it to be something else? Is he here, too?”
“How do you know we have him in custody?” Sherry asks.
“Oh, Sherry, you jumped the gun,” Mislan groans into the microphone. “You’re giving away information.”
“I don’t. I’m merely guessing that you do, based on your questions,” the suspect replies smugly.
“It’s OK, we play it straight. Admit to it and throw him the sucker punch,” Mislan whispers into the microphone.
“Yes, we do have him in custody. And he claims to have a relationship with you … a special relationship. He even called you by your nickname, Halil,” Sherry smiles at him sweetly.
Dr. Haliman seems taken aback by Sherry’s comment.
“Got you,” Dr. Suthisa says. “Nice work, Sherry.”
Mislan, Saifuddin, and Dr. Suthisa are so engrossed in monitoring the interview that they don’t notice Superintendent Samsiah arrive.
“How’s progress?” she says, standing behind them.
Startled, Saifuddin almost jumps out of the chair, exclaiming, “Ya Allah.”
“Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you,” Samsiah smiles. “Doctor,” she acknowledges Dr. Suthisa.
“What brings you here at this hour?” Mislan asks, his eyes glued to the monitor.
“Sherry told me you guys had the ‘ghost’ in custody. I just had to come and see him for myself. So, how’re they doing so far?”
“Slowly, but surely,” Dr. Suthisa answers. “We caught him reacting at the mention of his alias.”
“Why’re you not in there with Sherry?” she asks Mislan.
“I prefer to sit this one out and learn a thing of two from Dr. Sophia on behavioral profiling. It’s not every day I get a chance to learn like this.”
Samsiah eyes her officer doubtfully but refrains from probing further.
“There’s that eye twitch,” Dr. Suthisa announces. “See how he avoids eye contact when answering. He’s lying or hiding something.”
“Sherry, probe him on the photographs from the anti-LGBT rally and mention the teh tarik sessions with Pak Non. Doc says he’s hiding something,” Mislan says into the microphone.
They watch as Sherry continues to push the suspect.
“Ma’am, can we get a search warrant for his house and his office and vehicles?” Mislan inquires.
“At this hour on Sunday, you’d have to have a really good reason.”
“This guy’s not going to sing unless we link him directly to the cases. The only way to do that is to present him with something solid, something he cannot talk his way out of.”
“Can we get his wife’s cooperation to grant us permission to search his house and vehicles? We can do the office on Monday if need be,” Samsiah suggests.
“He lives alone, a divorcee.”
“Hmmm, let me check with Legal and see what they can cook up. What, specifically are you looking for?”
“This guy’s an intellectual, an academic. What’s the one thing all intellectuals and academics have in common?”
Dr. Suthisa and Samsiah look at him askance.
“I’m interested to know the answer to that, Inspector. What’s the thing intellectuals have in common?” Dr. Suthisa asks, amused.
“Taking and making notes, documenting. He may be brainy, but I don’t think he’s street smart. I bet if we search his house, vehicles, and office, we will find some incriminating records or notes.”
“Inspector, I’m amazed at your, shall I say, shrewd observations.”
“OK, let me wake up the head of D5 and see if he can work out something,” Samsiah says, leaving the room.
63
IT IS 8:30 A.M., and the task force room table is stacked with packets of nasi lemak, fried noodles, roti canai, tea, and coffee. Detective Dorai and Deena are busy arranging them when SAC Faridah arrives with Superintendent Samsiah.
“What’s this, a welcoming spread? I should visit you more often,” Faridah quips.
Detectives Dorai and Deena look embarrassed.
“Where’re the rest?” Samsiah asks.
“Freshening up. They should be coming back soon,” Deena answers.
The team members start arriving, looking like zombies after not having slept for more than forty hours. Samsiah tries to energize them with warm and cheerful greetings.
“As we enjoy breakfast, generously sponsored by DSP Chandramala, let me introduce our guest,” Samsiah says. “Senior Assistant Commissioner Faridah Manap is the head of the Sexual & Child Abuse Investigations Division in Bukit Aman. She’s currently in charge of this investigation, having taken over from the OCCI. Ma’am, would you like to say something?”
“Thank you, Samsiah. Let me first congratulate you on your great police work. I can see you’re all exhausted. From what I’ve been told by Samsiah and Mala, I’m confident the cases will be solved soon.” She pauses. “And Mala, thank you for this breakfast.”
After breakfast, Samsiah requests that the officers Johan and Deena remain and the rest wait in the detectives’ room. Sherry, as the lead investigator, brings Faridah and Samsiah up to speed. She finishes with, “We still do not have anything concrete to link him to the other suspects.”
“How about his phone record, the contacts?” Faridah asks.
“The one he has with him shows no match. I believe he uses another cell phone to communicate with them. The number given by Pak Non was of a prepaid number with false registration.”
“Mislan has asked me to try obtaining a search warrant for his house, vehicles, and office,” Samsiah interjects. “I’ve spoken to D5, and they’re working on it.”
“That could yield something,” Chandramala says. “I agree with Mislan: the only way we can break this man is with direct evidence.”
Samsiah’s cell phone rings.
“Good morning, sir.”
“I was told you have Dr. Haliman in cu
stody,” SAC Burhanuddin says.
“Yes, we do.”
“Do you know who he is?”
“In relation to the cases we’re investigating, yes.”
“Not that,” he snarls. “He was a director at the Institute of Strategic and International Studies. He has access to some ministers. Why was I not told before your team made the arrest?”
“The arrest was made this morning based on information the team obtained from one of the suspects.”
“My question was, why was I not told?” he retorts.
Samsiah sighs. “SAC Faridah was informed of the arrest, and she’s here next to me. Would you like to speak to her?”
The line goes dead, but as she’s about to pocket the cell phone, it rings, and all eyes are on her again.
“Samsiah.”
“Samsiah, I’m Datuk Abu Sahid. Burhanuddin gave me your number.”
“Good morning, Datuk. How may I assist you?”
“I was informed that your team arrested Dr. Haliman this morning. May I ask on what charge?”
“I’m sorry, Datuk, but I’m not at liberty to divulge information regarding an ongoing investigation. Datuk, may I ask the reason for your interest?”
“He’s a close friend of mine and many others like me.”
“Sorry, but I don’t understand what you mean by that.”
“You’ll find out soon enough.”
Again, the line goes dead.
“The pressure’s mounting, and that can only mean one thing,” Mislan says.
“That we’re on the right track,” Sherry says.
Samsiah turns off her cell phone. “It’s Sunday … too many distractions.”
“Now that the pressure is on, what’s our next course of action?” Faridah asks.
“Ma’am, if you can handle the inquiries and the politics, we’ll push on,” Chandramala suggests. “And work on the search.”
Faridah turns to Samsiah. “What’s the status on the warrant?”
When Samsiah switches on her cell phone, she hears the “missed-call” tone. She ignores it and phones Legal. Then she says to her team, “They’re waiting for the magistrate to finish his round of golf before they can get him to sign the warrants.”
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