“Where’re the bosses?” Johan asks.
“Still in there.”
“You OK?” Sherry inquires.
Mislan nods.
“Mislan, for what it’s worth, I enjoyed working with you. I don’t agree with many of your methods, but we all have our ways,” she says and smiles.
“Likewise.” Mislan smiles back.
Downstairs in the lobby, he bumps into detective Syed and Jeff coming back from their assignment.
“We’re told to stand down. What happened?” Syed asks him.
“Briefing at eight. By the way, what have you guys found?”
Syed tells him they managed to locate the suspect’s ex-wife and had a pleasant chat with her. She was hospitable and cooperative.
“Lovely woman, charming, and not to mention beautiful,” Jeff adds.
“How long were they married?”
“About seven years.”
“Children?”
The detectives shake their head.
“Did she tell you why they divorced?”
“Not in so many words.”
“What do you mean?”
“She now lives with her partner … a woman.”
“Oh. Did she say when they were divorced?”
“Two years ago in August.”
69
IT IS CLOSE TO five in the morning as Mislan enters his house and heads for Daniel’s room. He carefully opens the door, kneels, and kisses him lightly on the head. Daniel’s fever has subsided. In his own room, he dumps his backpack on the bed, and he automatically reaches for his gun. A fleeting moment of panic hits him when he doesn’t feel his sidearm. He sighs with relief when he remembers. He drops on the bed and, within minutes, is lost to the world.
He is jolted awake by a loud crash and reflectively reaches for the bedside table drawer. Stopping in mid-motion, he swears. Shit, Lan, you don’t have your sidearm anymore. The sunlight from a split in the window curtain hits him directly in the face. He wonders what time it is. Bleary-eyed, he strains to look at the cell phone. “Oh hell, twelve ten,” he murmurs and checks his cell phone. Fifteen missed calls and six messages. He jumps off the bed to check out the sound. The maid tells him the wall mirror in her room fell for no apparent reason.
“Well, that sums it all up. A broken mirror and seven years bad luck,” he says, and looks at his cell phone again. The missed calls were from the office, Sherry and Johan. The text messages were also from them asking for his whereabouts, except one from Audi and one from Dr. Safia. He calls Johan, telling him he will be in about 1 p.m., and replies to Dr. Safia’s messages.
On the way to his office, he calls Audi.
“Where have you been?” she asks angrily.
“Asleep. Why?”
“I heard from my source, Selangor police made several arrests in relation to the UTube Serial Rapes.”
“They did? Great.”
“You don’t sound surprised. Why are you not angry that they beat you to it?” Audi probes.
“What difference does it make? We’re all on the same side.”
Audi laughs. “Excuse me, am I speaking to the Inspector Mislan Latif from Special Investigations?” she mocks.
“Funny.”
“I heard rumors about your big fish.”
“What sort of rumors?”
“That he was cherry-picked for some secret work. His lecturing was only a front. Is this true?”
“And what else are you hearing?”
“Depends on where and whom you ask. Coffee-shop talk is always about a Jewish conspiracy, at kopitiams they’re pointing fingers at political figures, at Starbucks Muslim extremists. And in pubs, they’re too drunk to care.” Audi laughs. “So, is any of it true?”
“The truth is whatever you want to believe.”
Mislan leaves his car on the street and walks toward the guardhouse. As he approaches the gate, his pace slows; he’s half-expecting to be stopped by the guard. The fact that he was not at the office at eight has automatically made him AWOL. The guard greets him as he walks by cautiously. Phew. They probably haven’t received the order yet. In the lobby, it feels like all eyes are on him and every whispered conversation is about him.
In the elevator, he moves to the rear of the cab to escape imaginary prying eyes. As soon as the elevator stops on his floor, he rushes out and walks briskly to his office.
“Where’ve you been?” Johan asks.
“Overslept. Why, what happened?”
“Everyone has been asking for you. They thought you might have gone after you-know-who.”
“Not a bad idea,” he kids. “Is ma’am in?”
“I think she is.”
“Might as well get it over with,” he says, walking to his boss’s office.
“Hey, let’s go for a drink after you’re done with ma’am,” Johan calls after him.
Superintendent Samsiah is having her tea and reading the newspaper. Putting it down, she invites him in.
“Close the door, please. So, where’ve you been all morning?”
“Sleeping. Did I miss anything?”
“Only the disappointed looks on the faces of the task force members. Did you hear that Selangor made progress on their case?” Samsiah says, watching her officer closely.
Mislan shakes his head.
“I spoke to ASP Luan. She told me she received some very accurate anonymous tips … very accurate.”
“Good for her. We never seem to get that lucky.”
“A piece of documentation with a list of names of the people involved,” Samsiah says slowly, gazing at him.
“Are you suggesting I had something to do with it?” Mislan asks, poker-faced.
“Did you? Sherry says you were alone on the sixth floor with Johan. It was a while before the two of you came down to the car.”
“I’m hurt you could think we did something illegal.”
“Since you brought it up, did you do something stupid while the two of you were up there?”
“No. What did Johan say?”
“I’ve not asked him, yet. I thought it would be better to ask you first, knowing how Johan will lie to his mother for you.” She sips her tea. “I suppose now Selangor can wrap things up, including our cases.”
“What about him?”
“Dr. Haliman?”
Mislan nods.
“It all depends on the song the suspects detained in Selangor sing.”
Mislan nods and says, “Let’s get it over with.”
“Get what over with?”
“You know.”
“Oh, you mean the suspension. I totally forgot about that. SAC Faridah says the matter has been resolved, and no action will be taken against you.”
“Was that part of the deal?”
“No, it was not. She raised it with Datuk CPO, and it was his decision.”
“Can I?” he asks, holding his packet of cigarettes.
“You know where the ashtray is.”
Mislan walks over to the cabinet and takes out the ashtray. Placing it on the top of the cabinet, he lights his cigarette.
“Syed and Jeff tracked down his ex-wife,” Mislan says.
“Sherry told me.”
“She told you the ex is, you know, and she left him to be what she is, the real her.”
“Yes, and I don’t think it’s for us to judge her.”
“No, I’m not.”
“Then why’re you raising it?”
“Did it occur to you that his actions may have nothing to do with his religious beliefs or defending Islam? He’s a scholar, and he used his knowledge to hide his true cause, which in my opinion is his vendetta against his wife leaving him to be her true self, but made it look like a religious crusade.”
Superintendent Samsiah thinks about what her officer said.
“You know there’re thousands if not millions of suckers out there easily and eagerly drawn in when it comes to religion. I’m not saying it doesn’t happen with Christians, Jews, Hindus,
Buddhists, and others, too, but this is especially true for us here … the Malay Muslims.”
“You may be right,” she says, “but there’s no way for us to know now.”
“What was the meeting with the AG about?”
“About nothing that concerns you.”
“Four women were raped, one murdered, and one killed herself. Zaitun, remember them?” he says.
“What about them? Don’t you accuse me of selling out the victims,” she snaps, glaring at him.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it that way.” He leans against the cabinet and sighs. “Don’t you think, at least, Sherry and I deserve an explanation?”
“I don’t have an explanation to give.”
70
LEAVING THE HEAD OF Special Investigations’ office, Mislan walks to the elevator. He is in no mood to hang around the office, even if his suspension order has been revoked. Down at the lobby, he walks briskly to his car and makes a call.
“Hey, I haven’t had lunch, you want to meet up?”
“Sure, if you’re buying. Where?”
“Meet you at the nasi padang place in Kampung Pandan. Remember, where we met the first time?”
“Yes.”
“OK, see you there in thirty.”
At the restaurant, Audi is already waiting for him at the entrance.
“You look depressed … no, defeated,” she remarks.
“Thanks,” he says, walking into the restaurant and picking a table farthest from the entrance.
“So, why’re you buying me lunch?”
“Can’t I do something for you without a reason?”
“You can, but you don’t,” she says, giggling. “So come on, spill it, so I’ll know whether I should eat lots or just watch you eat.”
“My ex-wife likes coming here, she loves the dishes, especially the grilled fish,” Mislan says, reminiscing.
Audi listens without saying anything.
“You want a story?” Mislan suddenly asks, snapping out of his memories.
“That’s a dumb question. Of course I want a story.”
“Dig deep into the UTube Serial Rape case. I heard Selangor police has got an anonymous document listing in detail the who’s who.”
“You’re kidding.”
Mislan looks up her and smiles.
“You’re not kidding,” she says, gawking at him.
Mislan shrugs.
“Why can’t you give me the information?”
“Because I only heard of it, and I don’t want to mislead you.”
“So you’re saying the rumors about the former ISIS guy are true?” Audi asks excitedly.
“Let’s enjoy our lunch,” Mislan says.
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