21 Immortals

by Rozlan Mohd Noor

  “When you left on Monday morning, did you see anybody or any car waiting outside RT?”

  “No.”

  “What about when you came back?”

  Kuppusamy shakes his head.

  “Did you notice the Cayenne in the parking lot when you came back?”

  “What’s a Cayenne?” He looks genuinely blank.

  “A four-wheel drive, a jeep.”

  “That is the company’s jeep. It’s always there. I’ve seen it parked there many times before.”

  “It was not there before you left at four. How did the jeep get inside the compound?”

  “I don’t know lah. The gate is automatic. I only have the key to the small gate. I returned it to the office before I left. You can ask my officer.”

  “How long have you worked for this security company?”

  “Three months.”

  A mata gelap enters, passes a note to the sergeant and leaves. He studies the note and asks, “Do you have a criminal record?”

  “Ahyoo, long time ago. I stole a motorcycle and was sent to jail for six months. That’s why lah I cannot work very long in one company. When they find out, they fire me, and I don’t get any pay.”

  Johan smiles at his boss, receives the signal to end the interview, and frees Kuppusamy. It is a waste of time to continue with the questioning. They know there is no chance in hell the killers would have used him as a co-conspirator.

  27

  When Mislan’s mobile rings again, it is Di returning his call. He asks her if she has managed to chat with her friend, and she tells him she is on her way to the McDonald’s in Bukit Bintang in front of Sungai Wang Plaza to meet him. He asks if they could come along. Di says it is fine with her, so long as he’s buying. They hitch a ride on an MPV going out on patrol.

  The petrol car drops them off at a bus stop near the Bukit Bintang - Sultan Ismail junction, just after the McDonald’s outlet, attracting curious stares from people who are waiting for their bus or taxis. Just as they are getting off, two men at the bus stop suddenly take off and run around the block, into the back alley. The MPV leaps forward into action even before all the doors are closed; it takes a sharp left, narrowly missing a motorcyclist, and disappears into the alley leaving those watching in awe. Johan grins and shakes his head.

  “Brings back memories, eh?”

  “Sure does.”

  They stand at the entrance to the McDonald’s outlet trying to spot Di. Many in the crowd have red, orange, blue, green streaked hair. Giving up, they chose the alternative; making themselves obvious. Dressed the way they are, they stand out like two zebras. As they move slowly towards the ordering counter, the inspector is stunned by a slap on his butt and a female voice, “You owe me twenty-nine ringgit and fifty-five sen.” Feeling red in his face, Mislan asks, “Where are you sitting?” Di points to a table near the entrance where a large young man seems to be trying to devour a Big Mac in one mouthful. Mislan says they will get their orders and join them. He watches her go and instantly has second thoughts about wanting to meet her friend. After nearly fifteen minutes, they get their order of a Quarter Pounder, a Filet-O-Fish, two fries, and two Cokes.

  When they join Di and her large friend, the two IT geeks have already finished eating. She introduces her large friend as ‘Hubble’, adding, “Like the Hubble telescope, probing deep into space without leaving any trace.”

  “Di tells me you know somrthing about ECUs used in cars,” Mislan wasted no time. “I want to know if it’s possible to hack into a car’s ECU and upload a control program?”

  “Anything is possible, man, if you know how,” Hubble replies, eyeing the fries on the inspector’s tray.

  “What do you need to hack into one?”

  “Duh, obviously the ECU itself.”

  Di laughs. “Dude, talk straight, okay. These guys are cool.”

  Looking at Di doubtfully, Hubble says, “If you say so.”

  Di pats Hubble’s big shoulder, and nods.

  “Okay. All ECUs have protocols that are recognised for data input and output. You get the protocol, and you can do anything you want; download, upload, delete, and other stuff.”

  “How can you get hold of the protocols?”

  “I’d say, easiest: the diagnostic system; hardest: the manufacturer’s system. All car manufacturers have diagnostic systems that they make available to appointed workshops that repair their cars. In the case of luxury cars, like Mercs, Beamers, I suppose only their appointed workshop will have it. You have the diagnostic system, you have the protocols. Simple,” Hubble explains.

  “Is it possible to get it from the net, or elsewhere?”

  “No way, man. These babies are religiously controlled by manufacturers to safeguard their interests in parts, accessories, and repairs. I guess the diagnostic systems are easier to get for the mid-range cars because the workshops are not specialised. But, for the big boys, it will not be easy to lay your hands on one.”

  A brief pause follows as Mislan considers what Hubble has just said, during which the geek’s hand reaches for his fries. Four rapid extensions of the hand, and the fries are gone. The inspector ponders if he should take another step across the line without checking with his boss. He has just been warned by his boss about this, but the maverick in him wants to take control. “If I give you the ECUs, can you get hold of a diagnostic system to probe it?” He decides to walk on the side of caution and consult her first thing in the morning before making any moves.

  “Don’t think so, man. Why don’t you flash your badge and get one from an authorised workshop? Let me have it for half a day and I’ll tell you whatever you want to know,” Hubble says.

  “Okay, how do I contact you?”

  “Eh ah, I’m not giving you my number. Di can contact me when you have the item,” Hubble replies, shaking his head.

  “No problem, I’ll take care of him.”

  “Right. That’s it then, thanks.” Mislan takes out a fifty ringgit note and hands it to Di, “Get Hubble another round of fries; he has earned it.”

  28

  Once outside, he calls Chew to ask how much longer he will be at the office, and if he has finished with the ECUs. Chew tells him that they have removed all the ECUs and the technicians are dusting them for prints. They should finish soon. He tells Chew to call him once they are done, then asks for Nathan.

  “Nathan, Inspector Mislan. Sorry for dragging you in so late. I need to check if you have any system that can differentiate between a man and a woman in a video footage?”

  “No problem, tuan, I wasn’t doing anything. As for specifically identifying whether a person is male or female from a video, the answer is no.”

  “Shit. How about image measurement; you know, like what they do in hospitals when they measure babies in the womb or the size of a tumour?”

  “You mean like ultrasound scanning? We have software that can do something similar, but not ultrasound. Why?” Nathan sounds baffled.

  “Okay, I need you to do this for me. Take precise measurements of the figure from the video this morning. The height, shoulder width, chest, waist, head, legs, hands, fingers, whatever that can be measured in three dimensions. Once you have the measurements, call me.”

  “Sure, it’ll take a while. Give me an hour or so.”

  “Don’t worry; take the time you need to be as accurate as you can. Call me, no matter what time you finish. Thanks.”

  Mislan tells Johan to hail a cab or an MPV while he makes another call, this time to Safia. As he waits for her to answer, Di and Hubble come out of McDonald's. He waves them over, switching off the phone.

  “Di, if I were to provide you with three-dimensional measurements, is there any way you can create an image from it?”

  “Measurements of what?” Di inquires, excited.

  “Human.”

  “Human,” Di repeats, closing her eyes, “Sure. But I can’t give you a face, just a figure.”

  His phone rings, he signals for Di to ha
ng on. It is Safia. He tells her he will call back shortly and turns off the phone.

  “That’s fine. How long will you need?”

  “Depends. How good and complex the measurements are. About two hours.”

  “You need to do it at the lab?”

  “Nay, it’s my software; I mean, it’s not the lab’s software. I’ll do it at home.”

  “Great, I’ll call you once I get the measurements. Thanks, Di.”

  He watches them walking away.

  Johan manages to flag down a cab. Getting in, Mislan returns Safia’s call. He asks if she can tell from a three-dimensional images of a figure if it’s male or female. She says she can make an opinionated guess, but that wouldn’t stand up in court. He tells her that it is good enough, and will send them to her once he has the 3-D images.

  It is nine-forty when they walk into his office. He remembers his promise to Audi and calls her. It is answered on the first ring with, “You sure take your time calling. I hope you’ve something good for me,” Audi says, without asking who it is.

  “It has been a busy day. Off the record, we’ve nailed down the primary crime scene and the Forensics guys are going over it. That’s all I can give you now. I should be able to give you more by tomorrow. It’s off the record, so don’t you dare run it yet.”

  “Oh my God! Where? Give me some details,” she yaps excitedly. “Okay, okay, I promise, I won’t print it,” she agrees.

  “Look, Audi, we’re still working on possibilities and long shots. I hope we’ll get something by tomorrow. You’ll be the first to know.”

  “Come on, Inspector; you can at least tell me where, what did you discovered, and why you think it’s the primary scene.”

  “You know I can’t do that. As I said, you’ll be the first to know when we have something.”

  “I’ll hold you to that.”

  “You do that, goodnight.”

  Waiting is not one of Mislan’s strong points, but that is all he can do for the moment. He has been pumped up since the discovery of the primary crime scene, and now with the prospect of finally getting a much needed break, he finds it impossible to sit still. He switches on the computer and starts searching for local Porsche dealers, authorised workshops, and diagnostic systems. The net search is not fruitful. He finds some write-ups on diagnostic systems, but nothing about authorised workshops. He manages to obtain information on the local Porsche dealer, Auto Eurokars Sdn Bhd, though. He notes down the address and contact number, and decides to call tomorrow. He switches off the computer and thinks of calling Supt Samsiah to ask if she knows anyone who owns a Porsche he can talk to, but discards the thought as silly.

  He calls home, tells Daniel who has just returned from his religious class that he will be late. He asks Daniel not to stay up too late and promises he will carry him to his room to sleep in his bed when he gets home. That puts some cheer in Daniel’s voice. How easy it is to make a six-year-old happy, he thinks. After his exwife left, he has been plagued with guilt every time he has to work late, doing things he is passionate about, while Daniel stays home with no one to play with, except the maid.

  Nathan calls to inform him that the measurements are ready. He gives Nathan his e-mail address and thanks him. Then, he calls Di to ask for hers. He informs her he is e-mailing the measurements over and to revert once she is done.

  He tells Johan to get some intelligence on Pro Care Service Centre, and to arrange for a stakeout first thing in the morning. Realising there is nothing else he can do, he decides to go home.

  29

  On the way home, he remembers Daniel asking for satay about a week ago and stops to buy some. When he reaches home, Daniel wants to know why he is back early, what is that he is carrying, and their sleeping arrangement? He answers all the queries, tells the maid to lay the table while he takes a much needed shower. After the satay, Daniel follows him into his bedroom, switches the TV to his favourite channel, and jumps on the bed.

  “Turn the volume down and get some sleep, kiddo, it’s late.”

  “A little more, please?” Daniel pleads.

  “Okay, a little.” He switches off the light, gets into bed and hugs his son. Kissing his head, he says to him, “Night, kiddo, daddy loves you.”

  “Love you, too,” Daniel replies without looking away from the TV screen.

  Stroking Daniel’s head, he reviews the day’s discovery. If the figure is that of a woman, who can she be? Irene? She said she was away in Hong Kong; that can easily be verified. If it was her, he does not think she will be stupid enough to lie to him. Furthermore what motive would she have? According to her, Robert Tham gave her a job she loves. Money, greed, or anger for not making her a full partner? Maybe she is more than just an employee. It is not unknown for a married man to start a business with the woman he is having an affair with. Mislan makes a note to check her alibi with immigration.

  He picks up the mobile phone and dials Chew’s number. When Chew answers, he says, “Hey, you still there?”

  “About to leave. Why?”

  “Something just came to me; the Cayenne driver’s seat is electronically controlled, right?”

  “Yes, and?”

  “Did you move the seat?”

  “Nope, why?”

  “Can you do me a favour? Measure the distance of the seat to the steering, and the paddles. If my guess is right, it will be short. Can you do that the first thing tomorrow?”

  “Sure, no problem. Since you’re on the line, I might as well tell you; we found a hydrogen cyanide canister attached to the air-conditioner piping, with an electronic release valve and a remote control receiver. We have solved the mystery of how the gas was discharged. Did you manage to speak to Nathan?”

  “Yes, thanks. Good work, Chew, appreciate it. You done with the ECUs?”

  “Yup. They’re ready for pickup whenever you want them.”

  “Thanks, again. Have a good rest, night.”

  “You too Inspector, night.”

  After Daniel falls asleep, he removes the TV remote from his hand, pulls the blanket over him and kisses his forehead. He then gets up and sits at his desk. Although exhausted, his mind is too restless to sleep. It is ten-forty-seven. He speed dials Johan, who is still in the office detailing some mata gelap for tomorrow’s stakeout. His assistant asks if he has any specific instructions. Mislan tells him to take snap shots of the employees and customers, especially women. He asks Johan to call Maria in for an interview at 0900 hours before telling his sergeant to get some rest, and to expect a long day tomorrow.

  Recalling Supt Samsiah’s little talk on the jealousy motive for murder, he switches on his notebook computer, navigates to the Yahoo search engine and keys in the words ‘jealousy homicide’. 877,000 search results show up. He tries a new search: ‘murder with jealousy as motive’ and gets 864,000 results. He browses through a few sites and is shocked at how far a jealous killer will go. His attention is drawn to a case of a man convicted of killing a woman he befriended on Facebook. The motive: the killer was jealous because the woman was also chatting online with other men. After two hours of reading, he turns off his notebook computer and joins Daniel under the blanket.

  Lying with his eyes closed, eager for daybreak, he thinks of Lionel. He was only ten. He has never been involved in a murder case involving a minor, and with a six-year-old son of his own, the case is becoming personal. What were the sins of Lionel’s parents? Seeing death is never easy. They said you’ll get used to it. Just don’t get attached. How can one get used to it? How can one not get attached? You dig into their lives, businesses, relationships, finances, activities, loves, fears; you begin know them completely, even better than their coworkers, friends, relatives, and families. How can you not get attached? Forensic pathologists have it easy; they do whatever they need to do, and move on to the next case. Investigators do not have that luxury, they carried it with them from the moment the case is reported, through the investigation, court proceedings, convictions or acquitt
al. Often, they live their cases. Sometimes even when they win, they lose.

  If only this were a CSI movie; he would have found something he could use to nail the killers by now.

  Exhaustion finally takes its toll, and sleep mercifully overcomes him.

  30

  Thursday

  His mobile phone rings for a while before he realises it. Turning to his side, he reaches out and answers sleepily, “Mislan here.”

  It is Di. “Are you sleeping? Sorry. You said to call you when I was done.”

  “Hey, Di, no problem, thanks. Sorry to make you work so late,” He’s instantly wide awake, in anticipation.

  “Don’t fret. I’m used to staying up late, doing my thing,” she laughs.

  “Nothing illegal, I hope.”

  She laughs louder, “I’ve mailed the 3-D images to you.”

  “All right, I don’t want to know why you are staying up so late. Thanks, Di. Really appreciate it.” Before replacing his phone he looks at the time display. It is two fifty-six. Daniel stirs, turns away, pulling the blanket with him. He pats him lightly until he hears Daniel’s smooth rhythmic breathing. Di’s call excites him, and the urge to get dressed and drive off to the office keeps him awake, and restless.

  He sends Daniel to school at seven. Then, he drives as fast as he can in the morning traffic to the office, parks the car and squeezes into the first available lift. Dropping his backpack on the floor, he switches on the computer, lights a cigarette, and waits for the system to boot up. Johan appears at the door, greets him and heads straight for the pantry to make two mugs of coffee.

  “You’re in early.”

  “Wanted to check the stakeout team. They were a man short last night. I’m trying to get one of the standby gelap to join them, and I need to follow up on Maria after I spoke to her last night. She sounded hesitant about coming, so I thought I’d give her a friendly reminder,” Johan says.

  “Careful, we don’t need her running to the embassy and attracting more attention.”

  Carrying the two mugs, Johan puts them on his desk and asks, “Any developments?” Just then, the computer comes to life. He keys in his password and extracts Di’s e-mail. The text reads, “m i gud or wat.” He clicks the attachment and is impressed with what pops up. He signals Johan to come over to look.