THE DEAD AMERICAN (The Inspector Samuel Tay Novels Book 3) (11 page)

THE CENTERPIECE OF
the Courtyard is a
large pavilion of filigreed ironwork with a peaked, red-tile roof. The pavilion shelters an elaborate bar and is surrounded by widely spaced wrought-iron tables, each positioned under its own white canvas umbrella. The umbrellas shielded the occupants of the tables almost completely from the gaze of any guests curious enough to glance out the windows of the hotel. It made for near total privacy in public.

Tay and Emma came out through the back of the Raffles Grill and saw Betty Lee waiting at a table set off to itself. Tay’s first thought was that she looked nervous.

“Thank you for talking to us,” Emma said as they pulled out the two chairs opposite her and sat down.

Betty’s eyes flicked from Emma to Tay and back again.

“Are you really a writer for the Wall Street Journal?” she asked Emma.

“Yes, I am.”

“But he’s not, is he?” she said, looking at Tay.

“Not exactly. He’s—”

“He’s from the government, isn’t he?”

“The government? What government?”

“Our government. The Singapore government.”

“Why would you think that?”

“Is he from the military? Or is he from the Ministry of Home Affairs?”

“Look, Betty, Sam is working with me to—”

“I’m a policeman,” Tay interrupted. “I’m a detective with the Special Investigations Section of CID. But I’m on suspension so Emma has asked me to help her with the research she is doing into Tyler’s death. I’ve agreed to do that. I have no official position here.”

“Why were you suspended?”

“I shot somebody.”

“Did you mean to?”

“Yes, I meant to.”

“Who did you shoot?”

“A man who would have killed my sergeant if he’d had the chance.”

Betty held Tay’s eyes. She seemed to be trying to see in Tay’s face whether there was more to what he was saying than he was telling her.

“I don’t want to talk to the government,” Betty said.

“You’re not,” Emma reassured her. “Sam is helping me research my piece. He’s not here as a policeman. You can trust him exactly as you would trust me.”

“Why don’t you want to talk to the government?” Tay asked.

Betty looked at Tay for a long moment. He saw her blink rapidly sev
eral times behind her heavy glasses, but she didn’t say anything. She just shook her head.

Tay could see Betty was frightened. But of what?

“Do you think Tyler committed suicide?” Emma asked. Ta
y folded his hands on the table and waited for Betty’s answer.

“I don’t know. I think about it all the time, and that’s the truth. I just don’t know.”

Emma slipped her pad and a pen from her purse and placed the purse on the ground next to her chair.

“Do you mind if I take notes?” she asked Betty.

Betty shook her head.

“Can you talk about finding Tyler’s body?”

Tay thought he saw moisture glistening in Betty’s eyes behind her glasses, and he wondered if she was about to burst into tears.

“Yes,” she said. “I can talk about it.”

“Then tell me what you saw when you went into Tyler’s apartment,” Emma said. “Take all the time you want.”

Betty’s eyes slid away from them. She watched the palm trees on the other side of the courtyard as they swayed rhythmically in the warm evening breeze.

“I hadn’t heard from him in two days. He wasn’t answering his phone or responding to my texts. I went over just to see if he was all right. After I opened the door—”

“You had a key?” Tay interrupted.

“Yes, but I didn’t use it. The door was unlocked.”

“The front door to Tyler’s apartment was unlocked?”

“Yes.”

“Didn’t you find that unusual?”

“It scared me. Tyler had never left his apartment unlocked. Not as far as I know. That’s why I didn’t go in. I opened the door and called his name. I told him it was me.”

Emma and Tay nodded and waited.

“When he didn’t answer,” Betty continued after a moment, “I got up my courage and went inside. Everything seemed normal. The living room looked like he was in the middle of packing and had just stopped for a moment.”

“Okay,” Emma said. “What did you do then?”

“I closed the front door behind me and called his name again. He still didn’t answer, so I walked over and opened the door to the bedroom.”

Abruptly Betty stopped. She turned her head and looked back at the trees. The breeze shook the palm fronds and they made a sound like paper rustling somewhere very far away.

“I wish now,” she said after a moment, “I had never done that.”

“Please tell us what you saw,” Emma prompted.

“I knew Tyler was dead. I knew it right away. He was hanging there against the bathroom door.”

“Could you see how—”

“I didn’t see anything else. Not really. I just screamed and ran out of the apartment.”

“Was there a note?”

“I didn’t look.”

“Did you see his laptop?” Tay asked.

Betty glanced quickly at Tay, but then she shifted her eyes back to Emma.

“I don’t think so,” she said. “I don’t remember it.”

“Was there anything unusual about his bedroom?”

“Like what?”

“Signs of a struggle perhaps?”

“I don’t think so. I didn’t really look around. All I could think of was Tyler hanging there.”

“Then as far as you remember, all the furniture—”

“Wait,” Betty interrupted. “There was the chair. I remember that. It was on its side.”

“What chair?”

“It was just a straight chair that Tyler had sitting at a small table he used as a desk. It was over by where he was…”

Betty trailed off and looked away. She took a big breath.

“The chair was over by the bathroom door,” she finished. “It was lying on its side.”

“And that was the only thing in the bedroom that was disturbed.”

Betty nodded slowly.

“At least the only thing that you saw that was disturbed.”

She nodded again.

“Can I get you something to drink?” Emma asked Betty. “Maybe a glass of wine?”

“The hotel doesn’t like for us to be here when we’re not working. Can we just get this over with as quickly as possible? I’d like to go home.”

“Of course,” Emma said. “I only have a couple more things to ask you. Who were Tyler’s closest friends in Singapore?”

“Well… me, I guess.”

“Yes, but who else?”

“I don’t know. I never met any of his friends.”

“He never went out with people from the company?”

“Not that I know of.”

“How often did you see him?”

“Only once or twice a week. I work a lot of nights. It was hard to find a time we were both free.”

“He must have mentioned male friends he had meals or drinks with sometimes.”

“No, not that I remember.”

“No friends at the company?”

“I don’t remember him mentioning anyone.”

Emma glanced at Tay, but he was expressionless.

“What did Tyler tell you about the work he was doing?” she continued.

“The company he worked for was developing computers for cars. They were supposed to make cars run without drivers. Do you know about that?”

Betty raised her eyebrows and looked from Emma to Tay.

“Yes,” Tay said, “we know what the company was doing, but do you know specifically what role Tyler had?”

“It had something to do with security. You know, hacking. He designed tests to make sure the software they were writing was secure.”

“What do you mean he designed tests?”

“That’s what Tyler called it. I’m not sure what it
really means. I just know that he worked out ways to break into the software other people at the company were writing to control the cars. Then they would write it again to keep him out, and he would find another way to break in. He was good at it.”

“So these tests he designed… he ran them himself?”

Betty nodded. “Yes, he said they were so complicated he was the only one who understood them.”

“And these tests were all attempts to break into automobile control software that other people at the company were writing?”

Betty nodded.

“Then as far as you know—”

“Look,” Betty interrupted, “is that everything? I really do have to go now.”

“Just one more thing,” Emma said. “You told us a moment ago that you didn’t know if Tyler committed suicide. Is that right?”

Betty nodded.

“But you think it’s possible he might have?”

She shrugged.

“Betty, I know there’s something you’re not telling me. Something that makes you think suicide is a possibility. Will you tell me what that is?”

Betty’s eyes flicked back and forth between Emma and Tay, then she looked away and sighed heavily. “He told me he went to see a doctor.”

“A doctor? What for?”

“For the last couple of months he hadn’t been sleeping well. I’m pretty sure it was his job.”

“Was he seeking treatment for depression?”

“I don’t know if you could say that. He just thought a doctor might be able to give him something. You know… something to make him sleep better.”

“Do you know the name of the doctor?”

Betty shook her head.

“Did the doctor give him anything?”

“Tyler said he decided not to take it. That he threw the prescription away.”

“So he wasn’t taking medication when he… died?”

“I don’t think so.”

They all sat quietly while Emma wrote in her notebook. The only sounds were a distant tinkle of laughter from across the courtyard, the rattle of the breeze in the palm trees, and the scrape of Emma’s pen against her notebook.

“You said Tyler was unhappy because of his job.”

Tay broke the silence as gently as he could.

“Do you know exactly what it was that had made him unhappy?”

Betty hesitated. Her eyes flicked to Emma. Emma seemed to feel them, and looked up from her notebook.

“It’s okay,” Emma said. “Sam is asking to help me. He’s not asking as a policeman.”

Betty appeared to think about that for a moment. Emma and Tay watched her eyes move back and forth behind her glasses and wondered what she would decide. Then Betty nodded very slightly and cleared her throat.

“He said he had discovered something by accident, something that made him really unhappy. He said he didn’t know what to do.”

“Discovered something about what?”

“He wouldn’t say.”

“But didn’t you get an impression what he was talking about? Was it something about the software he was working on? Or something about the company itself?”

“It must have been about the company.”

Emma and Tay waited for more, but Betty didn’t tell them any more. So Tay prodded gently.

“Why do you say that?” he asked.

“Because he finally went to see his boss about it.”

“Who did he go to see?”

“I don’t remember his name,” Betty said, then she pursed her lips and appeared to think about it. “It was a funny name. Long.”

Emma and Tay traded a look.

“Zachery Goodnight-Jones?” Emma asked.

“Yes,” Betty said quickly. “That’s it.”

“Tyler went to see Zachery Goodnight-Jones and told him he was unhappy about something?”

“I don’t know what they talked about, but it made everything worse.”

“Worse? How?”

“Tyler was even unhappier after that. Sometimes he seemed angry. Sometimes he even seemed afraid. It got so bad he quit. He said he had to go back to California. That he would be safe there.”

“How long was that after he talked to Goodnight-Jones? That he quit, I mean.”

“Not very long. A few weeks.”

“You said Tyler seemed afraid,” Tay said. “What did you mean by that?”

“It was like he was carrying around a huge secret. Like it scared him to know what he knew.”

“And he didn’t give you any idea what this secret was?”

Betty shook her head.

“Did he tell you
who
he was afraid of?”

Betty shook her head again and looked away.

Tay felt like she was on the edge of bolting and he didn’t want to push her any harder. He let a silence fall, and they all sat and listened to the wind in the trees. Tay wanted a cigarette, but he didn’t want it badly enough to disturb the silence.

A minute or two passed and Betty didn’t bolt. She even appeared to relax a little so Tay took a chance.

“What are
you
afraid of, Betty?” he asked, keeping his voice low and level.

Emma stopped writing and looked up, watching Tay.

“What do you mean?” Betty’s eyes darted back and forth behind her glasses.

“When I asked you why you didn’t want to talk to the government, you didn’t answer me. It’s easy to see that you are afraid of something. Is it the government you’re afraid of?”

Betty closed her eyes and then opened them again.

“They told me not to talk to anyone. After I found Tyler’s body, they came to my apartment and they told me not to talk to anyone.”

“Who told you?”

“I don’t know. I guess it was the police. Two men. They were rude. They seemed angry with me. They told me not to talk to anyone else.”

“Did they show you identification?”

“I think so. I don’t really remember.”

“So you don’t remember their names either.”

“No.”

“When did they come to your apartment?”

“It was the day after…” Betty paused and looked away. “The day after I found Tyler. They came to my apartment.”

“And they asked you to tell them what you had seen?”

“Yes… well, not really. They didn’t ask me much of anything. They just told me not to talk to anyone.”

“Did you hear from them again after that?”

“No.”

“Who else has talked to you since then?”

“No one. Not until now.”

Tay looked puzzled. “No one else from the police interviewed you after that?” he asked.

Betty shook her head.

“You were never asked to give a formal—”

“There
was
something else though,” Betty interrupted. “Somebody searched my apartment.”

Tay wasn’t certain he had understood her correctly. “What?” he asked.