Crime Scene: Singapore

by Stephen Leather

  ‘Exactly. So do you not see how special this case is, Sergeant Lee? Most detectives would give their eye teeth to work on a case such as this, yet all you want to do is to hand it over to the scientists.’ He looked around as if he feared being overheard. ‘And what if we have a serial killer, Sergeant Lee?’

  ‘We have only one victim, ‘ said the Sergeant.

  ‘That we know of,’ said Inspector Zhang, fighting to stop his voice from trembling. ‘What if there are more? What if we have on our hands a real live serial killer?’ He shuddered. ‘Can you imagine that, Sergeant Lee?’

  The Sergeant nodded but didn’t reply.

  ‘You know that Singapore has only ever had one serial killer?’ said the Inspector.

  ‘Yes, Sir. Adrian Lim.’

  ‘Exactly, Sergeant,’ said the Inspector. Every detective on the island knew of the case, of course. It was taught at the academy. The Toa Payoh Ritual Murders. The killings had taken place in 1981, the year that Inspector Zhang had joined the Singapore Police Force. Adrian Lim, who murdered two children as sacrifices to the Hindu goddess Kali. Lim and his two female accomplices were hanged in 1988.

  ‘But he was caught by forensic evidence,’ said Sergeant Lee. ‘Police found a trail of blood leading to the flat.’

  ‘Exactly,’ said Inspector Zhang. ‘Which is why I want to use deduction to solve this case. All the evidence we need is here, Sergeant Lee. All we have to do is to apply our deductive skills. Do you see that? Do you understand?’

  The Sergeant nodded slowly. ‘Yes, Sir, I understand.’

  He patted her on the back. ‘Excellent,’ he said. ‘Let me now finish my questioning,’ he said. ‘And you might give some thought as to what this case will be called, because I am sure that it will become the subject of much discussion, so it will need a name.’

  ‘A name, Sir?’

  ‘A title. “The Locked Hotel Room Murder”, for instance. Or “The Vanished Knife”. “Inspector Zhang And The Mystery Of The Disappearing Knife”. What do you think?’

  ‘I’m not sure, Sir,’ said Sergeant Lee.

  ‘Well give it some thought, Sergeant,’ said Inspector Zhang, as he headed for the door.

  Miss Berghuis was deep in conversation with her head of security when Inspector Zhang and Sergeant Lee walked back into the sitting room, but they stopped talking immediately and looked expectantly at the two detectives.

  Inspector Zhang walked over to the window and turned to face the hotel staff. ‘So, to continue, Mr Carr’s seventh and final locked room scenario involves a situation where the victim is assumed to be dead before he or she actually is. That is the reverse of situation number five, of course where the victim is dead but presumed to be alive.’

  ‘So that would mean that Mr Wilkinson wasn’t actually dead when Mr Chau went into the room?’ asked Miss Berghuis.

  ‘He was,’ said the waiter. ‘I’m sure he was dead.’

  ‘But you’re not a doctor, Mr Chau,’ said Inspector Zhang, ‘In the confusion, it might have looked as if he was dead, but the actual murder was committed later.’

  ‘That’s impossible,’ said Mercier. ‘He was definitely dead when I got here.’

  ‘And you were here soon after the waiter made the call to reception?’

  Mercier nodded. ‘You saw the CCTV footage. Everybody was there within a few minutes at most.’

  ‘He was definitely dead,’ agreed the manager. ‘You only had to look at the body. At the blood.’

  ‘But there was a moment when the waiter was alone with the body,’ said Inspector Zhang. ‘When he made the phone call. At that moment, he was alone in the room with Mr Wilkinson, and we have only Mr Chau’s word that Mr Wilkinson was dead.’

  ‘I didn’t kill him,’ said Mr Chau hurriedly, his eyes darting from side to side.

  ‘I didn’t say that you did,’ said Inspector Zhang. ‘I merely stated that you were alone with Mr Wilkinson and you had the opportunity of killing him if he hadn’t been dead already. It is one way of solving a locked room mystery. The room is locked, but the person who discovers the body is the killer. He kills the victim then calls for the police.’ He shrugged. ‘It happens, but I do not think it happened in this case.’

  The waiter looked relieved and loosened his shirt collar.

  ‘Besides, if you did kill Mr Wilkinson, where is the knife?’ asked Inspector Zhang.

  ‘Actually, Inspector Zhang, we haven’t searched anyone yet,’ said Sergeant Lee.

  ‘And there is no need to search Mr Chau, Sergeant,’ said the Inspector. ‘What we need to do now is to go back downstairs to the security office, for it is there that the solution lies.’

  ‘All of us?’ said the manager. ‘Surely we don’t all need to go?’

  ‘It is the tradition, Madam,’ said Inspector Zhang. ‘The detective gathers together the cast of characters and explains the solution to them before unmasking the killer.’

  The manager laughed, and it was like the harsh bark of an angry dog. ‘Inspector Zhang, this is not some country house where the butler did it. Just tell us who the killer is.’

  ‘It is not a country house, that is true, but a five-star hotel is the closest thing that we have in Singapore,’ replied Inspector Zhang. ‘Now please humour me and accompany me down to the ground floor.’

  The Inspector led them out of the room and down the corridor to the elevators. He took the first one down with Mercier, the waiter, Miss Berghuis and one of the two uniformed policemen. Sergeant Lee followed in a second elevator with the two assistant managers and the other uniformed policeman. They gathered together outside the security room and Inspector Zhang led them inside. He waved a languid hand at the chair in front of the monitors. ‘Mr Mercier, perhaps you would do the honours.’

  The head of security sat down and ran a hand over his scalp. ‘We’ve already looked at the CCTV footage,’ he said.

  ‘We looked, but did we really see what happened?’ asked the Inspector. He waited until everyone had gathered behind Mercier’s chair before asking him to begin the recording from the point at which Mr Wilkinson and the prostitute stepped out of the elevator.

  ‘Here we can see Mr Wilkinson and his guest arriving at 8.30’ said Inspector Zhang. ‘Very much alive, obviously.’

  He watched as Wilkinson and the woman went inside. ‘She left an hour later. Please skip to that point, Mr Mercier.’

  Mercier tapped a key and the video began to fast-forward. He slowed to normal speed just before 9.30 in time to see Ms Lulu leave the room.

  ‘Now, at this point Mr Wilkinson ordered his club sandwich and coffee from room service, so again we know that he is still very much alive.’

  ‘So who killed him?’ asked Miss Berghuis. ‘If the woman left the room, and no one goes in before the waiter, who stabbed him?’

  ‘That is an excellent question, Madam,’ said Inspector Zhang.

  ‘But can you answer it, Inspector?’ asked the manager, tersely.

  ‘I think I can,’ said Inspector Zhang. ‘They key to solving this mystery lies in understanding that it is not who goes into the room that is important. It is who does not go in.’

  ‘That doesn’t make any sense at all,’ said the manager crossly.

  ‘I beg to differ,’ said Inspector Zhang. ‘It makes all the sense in the world. It is as Sherlock Holmes himself says in Arthur Conan Doyle’s masterpiece, The Adventure Of Silver Blaze: it is the fact that the dog did not bark that is significant.’

  ‘We do not allow dogs in the hotel,’ said Mercier. ‘There are no pets of any kind.’

  Sergeant Lee looked up from her notebook, smiling, and Inspector Zhang sighed. ‘I was using the story as an example to show that it is sometimes the absence of an event that is significant, which was the case in The Adventure of Silver Blaze. If I recall correctly, it was Inspector Gregory who asks Sherlock Holmes if there is anything about the case that he wants to draw to the policeman’s attention. Holmes says yes, to the curious incident of th
e dog in the night-time. That confuses the Inspector, who tells Holmes that the dog did nothing in the night-time. To which Holmes replies, “That was the curious incident.” Do you understand now, Madam?’

  She shook her head impatiently. ‘No Inspector, I am afraid I do not.’

  ‘Then, Madam, please allow me to demonstrate,’ said Inspector Zhang. He put a hand on Mercier’s shoulder. ‘Please, Mr Mercier, fast-forward now to the point where the waiter arrives with the room service trolley.’

  ‘This is a waste of time,’ said Mercier. ‘We did this already.’

  ‘Please humour me,’ replied the Inspector.

  Mercier did as he asked and they all watched as the video fast-forwarded to the point where Mr Chau arrived with his trolley and began knocking on the door.

  ‘Normal speed now, please, Mr Mercier.’ The video slowed as they watched the waiter use his key card to enter the room.

  ‘At this point, Mr Chau is discovering the body and calling down to reception.’ Inspector Zhang waited until the waiter appeared at the door and began pacing up and down. ‘As you can see, no one enters the room until the hotel staff appear.’ On the screen, Miss Berghuis and her staff appeared and they all hurried into the room. ‘At this point, you phone the police,’ said the Inspector, turning to Miss Berghuis. The manager nodded. Inspector Zhang patted Mercier on the shoulder. ‘So now fast -forward until my arrival, Mr Mercier, but not too quickly. And I want everyone to note that no one else enters the room until I arrive with my sergeant.’

  The door to the room remained closed for twenty minutes until Inspector Zhang and Sergeant Lee stepped out of the elevator.

  ‘Normal speed now please, Mr Mercier. Thank you.’

  Mercier pressed a button and the video slowed. Inspector Zhang walked up to the door and knocked on it. It opened and he went inside, followed by his sergeant. The door closed behind them.

  ‘So, now we are inside, talking to you and assessing the situation. We talk, then I go to the bedroom with you, Miss Berghuis, I look at the body, I talk to you, I walk back to the sitting room, and then I walk out with Mr Mercier.’ On the screen, Inspector Zhang and Mercier walked out of the room and headed for the elevator.

  ‘You can stop it there, Mr Mercier,’ said Inspector Zhang, patting him on the shoulder.

  The picture froze on the monitor, showing Inspector Zhang and Mercier walking towards the elevator.

  ‘So here is the big question, Mr Mercier,’ said Inspector Zhang. ‘You walk out of the room now, but when exactly did you walk into the room?’

  Mercier said nothing.

  ‘You did not arrive with Miss Berghuis.’

  ‘He was already in the room when we got there,’ said the manager. She gasped and put her hand up to her mouth. ‘My God, he was in there the whole time.’

  ‘Apparently so,’ said Inspector Zhang.

  Mercier stood up and tried to get out of the door, but the two uniformed policemen blocked his way. Mercier turned to face Inspector Zhang. ‘This is ridiculous,’ he said.

  ‘Now Mr Mercier, I am going to make two predictions, based on what I think happened,’ said Inspector Zhang. He nodded at Mercier’s jacket. ‘I am certain that you are carrying the murder weapon. You have had no chance to dispose of it, so it must still be on your person. And because I do not believe that you planned to kill Mr Wilkinson, I think that the weapon is actually something quite innocuous. A pen maybe.’ He registered the look of surprise on Mercier’s face and he smiled. ‘Yes, a pen. But I also think that you have a camera, perhaps even a small video camera. Am I right?’

  Mercier didn’t answer, but he slowly reached into his inside pocket and took out a black Mont Blanc pen. He held it out and Inspector Zhang could see that there was blood on one end. Sergeant Lee stepped forward and held out a clear plastic evidence bag and Mercier dropped the pen into it. Mercier then reached into the left-hand pocket of his trousers and took out a slim white video camera, smaller than a pack of cigarettes.

  Inspector Zhang took the camera from him. ‘And Ms Lulu, she is in this with you?’

  Mercier looked away but didn’t answer.

  ‘She is not involved in the murder, of course. She doesn’t know that Mr Wilkinson is dead because he was still alive when she left the room.’

  Mercier nodded. ‘She doesn’t know.’

  ‘Because you never planned to kill Mr Wilkinson, did you?’ said Inspector Zhang.

  Mercier rubbed his hands together and shook his head.

  ‘You were there to blackmail Mr Wilkinson?’

  ‘Blackmail?’ said Miss Berghuis.

  ‘It was the only possible explanation,’ said Inspector Zhang. ‘He was in the room when Mr Wilkinson arrived with Ms Lulu. I am assuming that he wanted to video them in a compromising position with a view to blackmailing him. He was a married man, after all. And divorce in America can be a costly business. The only question is whether Ms Lulu was party to the blackmail or not.’

  Mercier nodded. ‘It was her idea,’ he said.

  ‘You were her client?’

  ‘Sometimes. Yes. Then she said that she had this rich customer who treated her badly and that she wanted to get back at him. She wanted to hurt him and get money from him. She said she’d split the money with me.’

  ‘So she suggested that you hide in the closet and video them together?’

  ‘She had been in his room before, and she knew I could easily hide in the closet. She called me when she was on the way back to the hotel, and I was in position when they arrived. She made sure that he could never see me. It was easy. But then she was supposed to get him into the shower so that I could slip out, but he wouldn’t have it. He said that his wife was due to phone him, so he practically threw her out of the room. Then he phoned room service from the sitting room so I couldn’t get out, and then his wife called. I was stuck there while he took the call.’ He ran a hand over his face. He was dripping with sweat. ‘Then it all went wrong.’

  ‘He opened the closet? He found you?’

  Mercier nodded. ‘He shouldn’t have, but he did. All his clothes were in the suitcase and his robe was in the bathroom. I don’t know why he opened the closet, but he did and he saw me.’

  ‘So you killed him?’

  Mercier shook his head. ‘It was an accident.’

  ‘You stabbed him in the throat with your pen,’ said Inspector Zhang.

  ‘He attacked me,’ said Mercier. ‘He opened the closet door and saw me and attacked me. We struggled. I had to stop him.’

  ‘By driving your pen into his throat?’

  Mercier looked at the floor.

  ‘I think not,’ said Inspector Zhang. ‘If you stabbed him at the closet, there would be blood there. The only place where there is blood is the bed. Therefore you stabbed him on the bed.’

  ‘We were struggling. I pushed him back.’

  ‘And then you stabbed him?’

  ‘My pen was in my top pocket. He grabbed it during the struggle and tried to force it into my eye. I pushed it away and it …’ He fell silent, unable or unwilling to finish the sentence.

  ‘You stabbed him in the throat?’

  Mercier nodded.

  ‘And then rather than leaving the room, you hid in the closet again?’

  ‘I didn’t know what else to do. I knew that he had ordered room service, so I couldn’t risk being seen in the corridor.’

  ‘So you waited until the room service waiter discovered the body and while he was phoning the front desk, you slipped out of the closet?’

  Mercier nodded. ‘I went through to the next room but there was someone in the corridor, so I couldn’t leave and I had to pretend that I’d just arrived. It was an accident, Inspector Zhang. I swear.’

  ‘That’s for the judge to consider,’ said Inspector Zhang. ‘There is one more piece of evidence that I require from you, Mr Mercier. Your handkerchief.’

  ‘My handkerchief?’

  ‘I notice that unlike your colleagues
, you do not have a handkerchief in your pocket. I therefore assume that you used it to wipe the blood from your hands after you killed Mr Wilkinson.’

  Mercier reached into his trouser pocket and pulled out a bloodstained handkerchief. Sergeant Lee held out a second plastic evidence bag, and Mercier dropped the handkerchief into it.

  Inspector Zhang nodded at the two uniformed policemen. ‘Take him away, please.’

  The officers handcuffed Mercier and led him out of the room. Inspector Zhang nodded at the two evidence bags that Sergeant Lee was holding, containing the pen and the handkerchief. ‘You can send them to your friends in Forensics,’ he said.

  ‘I will,’ she said.

  ‘I suppose it does prove one thing,’ said Inspector Zhang. He smiled slyly.

  ‘What is that, Inspector?’ asked the Sergeant.

  ‘Why, that the pen is indeed mightier than the sword.’ He grinned. ‘There is no need to write that down, Sergeant Lee.’

  STEPHEN LEATHER is the author of more than twenty novels, including Private Dancer and Confessions of a Bangkok Private Eye, published by Monsoon Books in Singapore, as well as the Dan ‘Spider’ Shepherd series and Jack Nightingale series, both published by Hodder and Stoughton in the United Kingdom. You can find more details of his work at www.stephenleather.com.

  ‘Lead Balloon’ by Lee Ee Leen

  ‘Cover her face!’ yelled a male voice from outside the classroom. Life imitates art more than vice versa, according to Oscar Wilde. At that moment, I was teaching The Duchess of Malfi, and when I heard part of the most famous quote from the play suddenly uttered in real life, I just had to excuse myself from the lesson. I looked down into the quadrangle from the common corridor area. However, there was no rehearsal for Jacobean tragedy in the quadrangle.

  Three male students were carrying Mrs Dora Lau’s body towards a wooden bench. They arranged her lying face-up on her improvised gurney. I assumed she had fainted while crossing the quadrangle, but she remained too still, with one of her feet missing a chunky brown leather shoe. Mr Caulden, one of the Economics tutors, dashed to Mrs Lau’s side with his beer belly bouncing under his plaid shirt. The material under his armpits darkened with sweat, he gazed up at me watching him, man to man. He put his fists on his hips and the gesture told me that he wished that it were I down there instead of he.