21 Immortals

by Rozlan Mohd Noor

  “I don’t buy that. Not these guys; these are old SS, true SS,” he says, daring Supt Henry to say otherwise.

  “I’ve discussed this with Inspector Mislan; he has given me his word. If he still has no strong leads by this Sunday, he’ll hand over the case to D7. I think that’s fair. D7, meanwhile, can pursue its theory so there is no time wasted,” the Head of Major Crimes steps in, mitigating the building discord.

  “That sounds fair,” says Supt Henry, jumping at the face-saving way out, aware he has just been slam-dunked by an inspector in his own field.

  Everyone looks at Henry, surprised by what they hear. Smugness and smiles vanish fast.

  “Henry, you sure you’re okay with the arrangement?”

  Henry nods, leans towards the OCCI and whispers something. The latter nods several times, then looks at the inspector and asks, “What new leads do you have?”

  “We’re working on some leads, but it’s too early to discuss them. I’ll update puan once we get confirmations.”

  “I’m the OCCI, I outrank your boss.”

  “I’m aware who you are,” Mislan answers audaciously. “The last I checked, puan is my direct supervisor and I report to her. Until you change the protocol, I’ll continue reporting to puan.”

  “When do you expect these confirmations?” Henry asks sarcastically.

  “Before Sunday, I hope. We’re still chasing leads. The less people know what we’re chasing, the better chance we have of nailing them. Isn’t that true, tuan?”

  “Are you implying something, Inspector?” he snaps.

  “No. I’m only repeating what we were taught at crime school.”

  “Right, I think we’re done here. I’ll update you daily when I get it from Inspector Mislan. Henry, if you require anything, please contact me. I’ll be happy to help,” Supt Samsiah says, standing, killing the potential altercation between the two, and risking her butt for him again.

  23

  After the OCCI’s entourage leaves, Mislan follows Supt Samsiah to her office. She closes the door behind them, walks to the file cabinet, pours herself a cup of coffee, looks out the window and sips it. Her deliberateness, the absence of gestures and her silence unnerves him. It seems to him, she is going to stand and sip her coffee forever. Finally, she walks to her desk and puts the cup down gently. “Here it comes,” he says to himself. He wants to say sorry, but is not sure if he is allowed to speak. He craves for a cigarette, and knows it will only ignite the keg of powder on the chair in front of him. When she speaks, her words are calm and unrelated to what happened in the meeting room. “How was this morning’s hunt?”

  Relieved, he jumps at the question. “I think we might have something. The SUV was driven out by the vic on Thursday evening. Jo is reviewing the CCTV recordings to see when it was returned, and by whom. I think it would be Sunday night or Monday morning, and I’m hoping we’ll get a look at the person bringing it back. RT had a night security guard, but he has absconded. A standby gelap is trying to track him down. Chew has taken the SUV back to the lab. He says he’ll do an overnighter on it. The key was in the vehicle all the while. But it’s clean. The same goes for the SUV. The manager said the vic was going to use the SUV for his holiday, and I found a service request dated a few days before that. I’ll be checking the workshop to see if it leads us anywhere.” He pauses to catch his breath.

  “Good. When will Chew come back to you?”

  “He didn’t say, but I’ll see him later today, once Jo has finished viewing the CCTV recordings. We may need his help to enhance footages Jo identifies. I have a good feeling about the SUV being the primary scene.”

  “This may be the break we need. Good job.”

  “Puan, I’m sorry about ...”

  “Don’t be. You did what you felt was right. I should be the one saying sorry to you for not being firm sooner. One thing, Lan; if there’s to be a face-off between Major Crimes and other departments, please remember I’ll do the fighting. That’s my shit; yours is to solve crimes.”

  “Yes, puan. I can’t promise it won’t happen again, but thanks.”

  “I bet you Henry is in the office planning how to bring you down instead of looking for Four Finger Loo’s killers.” She gestures towards the meeting room by turning her head in the direction, and says, “That is not the end of it. You watch your step, Lan.”

  “Always, and I have you as my extra pair of eyes. You take care, puan. I don’t want a new boss, not unless my present boss goes on a promotion,” he smiles.

  His assistant is still reviewing the CCTV recordings and taking notes when Mislan comes back to his desk. He asks how much longer it would take, and his assistant asks for another half an hour. He calls Chew, but the office tells him the latter has gone out for a late lunch and will be back soon. The word lunch reminds him he has not had any, and neither has his assistant. With the adrenalin rush of possibly discovering the primary crime scene, and the high-wire tango with the OCCI and Supt Henry, he has forgotten food. Now that things have settled, his bodily needs have moved up the hierarchy.

  While he waits, he examines the victim’s cell phone, switching it on and scrolling through the incoming calls. One number keeps coming up. He jots down the number and scrolls through the outgoing calls. He sees none made to that number. The incoming and outgoing text message listings are empty. He writes Maxis a letter requesting details of the number, and stamps it urgent. He calls a standby mata gelap, and instructs him to go to the Maxis Centre at KLCC and wait there until he gets a reply.

  He redials Chew. The Forensic Department supervisor tells him they have struck gold with the Cayenne. It is, definitely, the primary crime scene. They have not finished with the vehicle yet, and it will be some time before they are done. He asks if Chew can make a video technician available to do some CCTV footage enhancement, and says he will be there in about an hour. Once Johan signals he is done, they pack the DVD and are off to Forensics. In the car, he asks Johan if he wants to get something to eat.

  They stop at a nasi campur stall in Taman Segar. Mislan decides on a fried fish, salted egg, some bean sprouts fried with tofu, a dollop of sambal belacan, some lemak gravy on rice and iced lemon tea. Sitting at a table under a tree they start eating with their fingers. Famished, they clean their plates in five minutes.

  “You’re quiet. Something on your mind?”

  “I might have overdone it with the OCCI.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I told him I’m not giving any information directly to him.”

  “You’re serious? What did he say?”

  “I did not say that exactly, but that was the message. I think I stepped on Tuan Henry’s toes, too. He was pissed off, and I might have endangered puan. I don’t know, Jo. I feel it’s best if D7 takes over this case. If they want to bury it, let them. What do you think?”

  “Are you having second thoughts?” He looks at his boss’ face. “Remember what you said to me when I was assigned to you? You said there were two types of investigators, one works hard to close a case and the other works hard to get closures. You asked me which I was. I didn’t know then, but after working with you, I know.”

  “Well, that was before we landed this case, before I participated in the death of an innocent man. Before …”

  “Don’t go there. You didn’t contribute to Four Finger’s death, you were following orders. You did all you could to stop the PC. Don’t hang that around your neck. After this case is over, maybe you should take a break. Go away with Daniel. Better still, take Dr Safia along,” his assistant says, smiling.

  “There’s nothing between us.”

  “Yah, right. I can see the way she looks at you, and you look at her. What’s stopping you? How long has it been now, a year? Some guys won’t even wait a month.”

  “It’s complicated, Jo. I saw the way you were looking at Irene. You were almost drooling on her office carpet.”

  “She’s hot.”

  “She is older than you.
”

  “Wise men say, age is only a number.”

  “It is, until she hits fifty, but your libido is still on full throttle. Let’s go.”

  In the car, Johan briefs his boss. According to the CCTV recordings, the victim left alone at 1631 hours on Thursday in the Cayenne. The security guard came to work between 1955 and 2010 hours. The guard left the premises every morning between 0400 and 0430 hours and came back thirty or forty minutes later. The Cayenne entered the compound at 0412 hours on Monday morning. The person coming out of the Cayenne was wearing a baseball cap, dark pants, T-shirt, and a dark jacket. He did not go into the building, but walked out of the compound. No frontal images of his face are on the recording, only his side and back. The guard left at 0800 hours.

  “So the guard was not at his station when the Cayenne was returned to the compound. You think the guard was compromised?”

  “Possibly, but I think not. He went out at the same time every morning, maybe for coffee or something. The killers could have observed the routine.”

  “Is there no clear shot of the person delivering the Cayenne?”

  “Nope. He was careful to avoid the cameras. As you said, it was well planned and executed.”

  “Shit! I thought it was too easy; the CCTV, I mean. These guys are good, too good to be merely good.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “They are too good, and for them to be that good they need intelligence or knowledge. My money is on knowledge.”

  “And?”

  “Someone inside was feeding them info. First about the vics going for a holiday, then the maid taking Friday off, now the guard taking time off for a coffee break.”

  “Are you thinking it’s the sexy manager? Oh, boy!” Johan exclaims.

  “What’s her motive, though? That’s what we need to figure out. We learn the motive, and we nail the bastards.”

  24

  The Police College staff are already leaving for the day when they approach the guardhouse. Mislan flashes his identification and the guard waves them through. He drives around the block, parks at the emptying lot and climbs the stairs. A technician tells him that Chew is in the garage on the ground floor at the end of the block.

  The facility comes with a hydraulic lift and dugout floor for undercarriage examination. The difference between a normal workshop and the lab’s garage is the presence of equipment for tearing up vehicles. The garage is enclosed and dimly lit except where vehicles are being inspected. It smells of exhaust smoke and hot lubricant. Apart from the Cayenne, there is another car with its four doors, trunk and hood removed. Chew is bent over the Cayenne, shouting instructions to two technicians when they enter unnoticed.

  “Hey, Chew,” he says, startling him.

  “Hi, Inspector. Can you guys wait in the discussion room?” Chew says, pointing to a row of cubicles at the corner. “There are too many parts on the floor. Can’t have you stepping on them. I’ll be with you in a minute.”

  “Sure, no problem.”

  “Go into the first room. It has coffee, and you can smoke there,” Chew shouts.

  Mislan lights a cigarette as he watches Johan pour coffee into two paper cups. Chew comes in with a technician in a white lab gown, whom he introduces as Kalinathan, the video technician. Nathan, as he wishes to be called, looks as if he has been dragged out of a geek convention, and given the lab gown to cover his colourful clothes. His hair is drowning in gel.

  “Where is the CCTV recording? Nathan can work at it while we discuss other things. If there is anything worth extracting, we can go up and view it later. How’s that?”

  “Fine by me. Jo, why don’t you and Nathan go on ahead? I’ll join you when I’m finished here.”

  The sergeant nods and leaves with the video technician.

  “Right, the crime scene: we’ve done swabs of the interior and found traces of hydrogen cyanide. We believe it was released through the air-conditioning vents. We are taking off the compressor, the piping and the vent, to run more tests. My guess is the hydrogen cyanide would’ve been disposed of and the system refilled with normal refrigerant.” Noticing the discomfort on his face, Chew quickly adds, “No worries, there’ll still be traces. The SUV was wiped and vacuumed clean inside out. We’ll be striping it down, see if there’s something they missed in between the seats, panelling, or grooves. That’s going to take some doing, so don’t expect anything soon.” He pauses, sounding exhausted.

  “Do you have a theory about how it was done?”

  “My first thoughts were the gas was released using a remote device, but we have found nothing so far to support that.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “I mean, we have not found any remote control devices fitted in the vehicle,” Chew explains.

  “Aren’t these high-end cars computer controlled?”

  “Yes, by the Electronic Control Unit, the ECU.”

  “What does it control, exactly?

  “All the automation, data, GPS. I’m not sure what else. Why?” Chew realises he is being led somewhere.

  “I’m thinking; if I can manipulate the ECU, I should be able to control the electronic systems of the vehicle, right? Like the locking mechanism, air-conditioning, and the engine.”

  “I suppose so, but how do you manipulate them? I may be wrong, but I have heard you can’t hack into the ECU. The source codes are well protected.”

  “These are electronic devices, and electronics can and do go bonkers, right? When it does, it needs to be reprogrammed. So someone must know how to do it. Is it possible to open the ECU and see if it has been tampered with?”

  “I’ll check with my IT guys. You think the killer took control of the SUV?”

  “Since you have not found any foreign devices fixed, it’s possible they did it through the ECU.”

  “It makes sense.”

  “Is there anything else?”

  “Not now.”

  They walk up to the visual room at level two where they find Nathan and Johan glued to a computer screen. Chew leaves them, disappears into the inner office and comes back with a strange looking woman with her hair streaked in red, blue, green, and yellow. She, too, wears a lab gown. She is dressed in slacks with a thousand creases, a black round neck T-shirt with the words ‘Love Me or Hate Me – I Don’t Give A Shit’ in bright orange. She wears three earrings on one ear and many more on the other. All her fingers have a ring each, including her thumbs. Mislan suspects there are probably several more on other parts of her body. She is introduced as Fadillah Hanum the IT technician. She insists on being called Di.

  The phone rings. It is the mata gelap he sent to the Maxis Centre. The prepaid number is listed to one Wong Peng Soon, a sixty-year-old man from Kepong. According to Maxis records, the SIM card was sold by an agent in the Kuala Lumpur International Airport about three years ago. Calls made to the number by Maxis were not answered. A check with the National Registration Department revealed that the name used is phoney, and the identity card number used belongs to a Malay man named Kamaruddin Abdul Majid living in Melaka. The mata gelap has asked for the help of Melaka Police to locate the subject. Mislan is sure nothing is going to come out of the inquiries by the Melaka police.

  “Inspector, can you tell Di what you told me,” Chew says, pulling out a chair.

  “Okay, the Cayenne is fitted with an ECU, right? Can someone manipulate it so he can remotely take control of the car’s functions, like doors, air-conditioners, and the engine?”

  “Technically, yes. Realistically, I’m not sure. First, you’ll have to gain access to the ECU, meaning you’ve got to have the access code or protocol. Second, you’ll need the source code to be able to manipulate the programs.” Di sounds like she knows what she is talking about.

  “You said ECUs, are there many of them?” He is surprised. He always thought there is only one ECU, like a master computer, that controlled everything in the car.

  “There are, depending on the car model. Some models may hav
e as many as twenty or thirty. Each ECU controls a specific electronic function of the car.”

  “What about the workshop? I’m sure the workshop would have the access codes and source code.”

  “I don’t know about the source code but I’m sure they have the access codes. It comes with the diagnostic system.”

  “Can you manipulate the ECU with the access code?”

  “You mean hack into it? Possibly, if you know how to get round firewalls. Anything can be hacked,” Di answers with a mischievous smile.

  “Once you hack into it, can you control the car’s functions?”

  “Depends. If you hack and install a worm, you’re just screwing up the system. If you plant a sleeper program to take control, then you can take control of the car.”

  “How difficult is it?”

  “What? To hack or to plant the program?”

  “Both.”

  “I should say hacking it. Writing a control program is easy, depending on what you want to control. Hacking and planting it may take some doing. I have no experience with car ECUs, don’t have reasons to,” Di says, with a sly smile. “If you want, I’ll chat up a friend; get some insight, as you guys say it.”

  “What friend?”

  “A guy from our chat group. He’s cool. Does plenty of ‘Anti-Capitalism’ crap, nothing illegal.”

  “Stop there, I don’t want to know what your friend is into, okay. How good is he?”

  “Quite good. And when we say ‘quite good’, by normal standards, it’s arse-kicking-good,” Di smirks.

  “What do you think, Chew?”

  “I don’t know; it’s your case. Maybe, it’s worth a try. It’ll prove or disprove your theory,” Chew responds.

  “Can you trust him?” Mislan asks Di, unsure if he should solicit the services of an anti-capitalist radical.

  “As much as you can trust me. Look, I don’t need to tell him about the case, I just need his expertise. If he says it can be done, I’ll get Chew’s permission to show him the real thing and see where it takes us. How’s that?” Di says.