THE GIRL IN THE WINDOW (The Inspector Samuel Tay Novels Book 4) (20 page)

BOOK: THE GIRL IN THE WINDOW (The Inspector Samuel Tay Novels Book 4)
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“And Suparman?”

“They say they don’t have any idea where he is. Either he never came to Singapore after all, or they missed him.”

“They didn’t miss him. They had him surrounded by five armed men. I saw it. I was there.”

“That’s what you say, Sam, but you seem to be forgetting something. You weren’t
supposed
to be there. You were assigned to the Santa Grande Hotel in Chinatown to await instructions from ISD.”

“That’s true, sir, but—”

“And entirely on your own, without informing anyone, you went somewhere else, and you took two sergeants with you. Now one of them is dead.”

It was Tay’s turn to shift uncomfortably in his chair.

“What’s that supposed to mean, sir?”

“I’m just stating facts, Sam. It’s going to be up to someone well above me to decide what they mean.”

“It sounds like you’re blaming me for Robbie’s murder.”

“If you had been where you were supposed to be, he would probably still be alive. Does that mean you’re to blame?”

The SAC’s shoulders rose and fell in a very small shrug.

Tay looked away and studied a spot on the wall. For a long time, no one said anything, but then Tay did.

“That’s not fair, sir.”

The SAC took a deep breath and blew it out. “Yeah, I know it isn’t fair, but you ought to get used to hearing it. I’m not going to be the last person to say it to you.”

Tay continued to stare at the wall, but he nodded slowly.

“Let’s set that aside for the moment, Sam. The immediate problem is the investigation of Robbie’s death since we can’t find anybody who remembers the men you described being at the Fortuna Hotel.”

“The desk clerk says he doesn’t remember them?”

“He doesn’t say anything. He had some kind of family issue and isn’t in Singapore.”

“Where did he go?”

“The man we talked to at the hotel doesn’t know.”

“And you believe that?”

“We have no reason not to.”

Tay stood up and walked to the window. He folded his arms and looked at the city.

“ISD was there, sir. ISD has Suparman.”

“We can’t find anybody who has seen Suparman or has any idea where he is.”

“God dammit, yes, you can. You know two people. Sergeant Lee and I both told you we saw him there and that ISD took him away.”

The SAC pursed his lips. “This is difficult for me, Sam. It isn’t a question of whether I believe you–”

“That’s exactly how it sounds to me.”

“It isn’t a question of whether I believe you,” the SAC repeated with exaggerated patience,” but you can’t ask me to accuse ISD of something like this without corroborating evidence. You’ve made your views about them well known. If we accused them of protecting Suparman on nothing more than your word, it would look like a personal vendetta and nothing more.”

“You have Sergeant Lee’s word as well.”

“I don’t think anyone would see that as genuine corroboration.”

“If ISD wasn’t there, and Suparman wasn’t there, then who the hell shot Robbie Kang?”

“I said we had a problem with the investigation of Kang’s death and, in your usual way, Sam, you have put your finger right on it.”

“Either Suparman shot Robbie, or ISD shot him. Or hell, sir, maybe you think
I
shot him.”

“Don’t even joke about that, Sam.”

Tay shook his head and looked away.

“To have any chance to put Suparman in the frame,” the SAC said, “you need at least one credible witness. Somebody not connected with you who saw pretty much the same thing you did.”

“Nobody else saw what happened in the hotel but the desk clerk and the five ISD guys.”

“ISD says none of their people were there, and the desk clerk is on leave.”

“Don’t you think that’s awfully convenient?”

“People do take vacation time when they have family issues, Sam. That’s not evidence of some vast conspiracy.”

The SAC rose to his feet. He stood there awkwardly for a moment waiting for Tay to say something, but Tay remained silent. Finally he sighed and walked to the door. Putting his hand on the knob, he looked back over his shoulder.

“Will you think about it, Sam?”

“Think about what?”

“Retirement. Or at the very least, taking that promotion I suggested.”

“You want me out of CID, don’t you, sir?”

“I want to avoid any embarrassment to this department, Sam. I don’t know how we’re going to conclude this investigation. If you’re going to continue to insist one of the world’s most wanted terrorists killed Robbie Kang, and say without a shred of evidence to support you that ISD is protecting him and knows where he is, it
is
going to embarrass this department.”

“That’s what’s happened, chief.”

“Then find yourself a witness. Or take one of my suggestions.”

“And what are you going to do if I don’t do either of those things?”

The SAC stood quietly for a moment looking at Tay. Eventually his eyes drifted to the window and he appeared to contemplate the city beyond it.

“Please don’t make me decide, Sam.”

The SAC turned and left Tay’s office without another word.

 

When Sergeant Lee came into Tay’s office, Tay was sitting at his desk with a pensive expression on his face. He was leaning forward, his elbow resting on the desktop, and his chin propped on his fist. He made Lee think of a slightly overweight version of Rodin’s
The Thinker
.

Lee sat in one of the chairs in front of Tay’s desk and waited. After a moment, Tay leaned back in his chair and gave Lee the condensed book version of what the SAC had told him.

“I don’t understand, sir.” Lee shifted her weight in the chair. “The SAC is saying he doesn’t believe that Suparman was at that hotel?”

“He’s saying he’s not going to say Suparman was there and accuse ISD of protecting him without having something other than our word for it.”

“Then who shot Robbie Kang?”

Tay shrugged.

“But we saw what happened, sir.”

“Not really. We saw a man we think was Suparman who appeared to be wounded, and we saw Sergeant Kang’s body. We didn’t see the shots fired. All we really know is what that ISD guy who seemed to be in charge told us.”

“Oh, come on, sir. There’s no other reasonable explanation.”

“The SAC says there’s no evidence that ISD has Suparman. They say they don’t.”

“My God!” Lee snapped. “We’ve told him they have Suparman and that ought to be good enough for him.”

“Maybe it ought to be, but it isn’t.” Tay folded his arms. “What we need is a witness.”

“You think somebody saw the shooting, sir?”

Tay had been thinking off and on about the girl in the window for days. He still didn’t have any idea what she had been doing there, but he was convinced it hadn’t been a coincidence she was watching the Fortuna Hotel that day. He knew she hadn’t seen the shooting, but she had seen everything else. After they ran down the hotel clerk, they would look for her as well, but he thought it might be too soon to go into that with Lee.

“Other than the ISD guys and us,” Tay said instead, “there were only three people in that hotel who saw anything: Suparman, his sister, and the hotel clerk. Suparman is in the wind, his sister was run over by a truck in the middle of Serangoon Road, and the hotel clerk is supposedly on leave.”

“So what? We just get the hotel clerk back. When he tells the SAC those guys brought Suparman into the hotel and claimed to be cops, everybody will know ISD is lying.”

Tay leaned forward and rested his forearms on his desk.

“The hotel doesn’t know where the desk clerk is.”

Lee looked confused. Tay knew exactly how she felt.

“The desk clerk told the hotel he had some kind of family issue. He might not even be in Singapore now.”


What
? Bullshit.” Lee shook her head. “Just ask Immigration to check their exit records. That will tell us where he went.”

“And then what? Say, he flew to Los Angeles. What do we do then?”

Sergeant Lee shook her head and looked away. “This stinks, sir.”

“Can you bring your car in tomorrow?”

“My car? Yes, sir. But why do you want me to?”

“We’ve got things to do and I don’t want to use a pool car. Some of them have GPS trackers, and right now I don’t trust anybody.”

“Where are we going, sir?”

“We’re going to find ourselves a witness, Sergeant. Or we’re going to die trying.”

“I wish you wouldn’t put it that way, sir.”

Tay nodded. He could see why Lee thought it had been a poor choice of words on his part, but he couldn’t think of a better description of exactly where they stood.

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

WHEN TAY AND Lee walked into the lobby of the Fortuna Hotel the next morning, they didn’t recognize the man behind the registration desk. The clerk on the day Robbie Kang had been killed had been an elderly Chinese-looking man who was almost bald and wore rimless glasses with thick lenses. This man appeared to be in his thirties and looked vaguely Indian. He was very thin and had long, greasy-looking hair down to his shoulders.

The man turned his head back and forth from Tay to Lee and his lower lip curled into a slight but unmistakable leer. “You want a room?”

Tay took out his warrant card and held it a few inches in front of the man’s face. The leer vanished and was quickly replaced by a look of apprehension.

Singaporeans didn’t like talking to the police. Growing up in Singapore, no one told you the policeman was your friend. Mostly you were told to obey the police without question and to avoid them whenever possible. When two cops, one of whom was holding his warrant card right in front of your face, confronted you, nothing good could possibly come of it.

“I am so sorry,” the man stammered. “I saw you come into the lobby together and I thought…well, I suppose I shouldn’t have, but—”

“Shut up,” Tay said in a quiet voice.

The man shut up.

“Who are you?”

“Rajeev, sir. Rajeev Chandran.”

“Are you the manager?”

“No, sir. I am just the desk clerk.”

“How long have you worked here, Mr. Chandran?”

“Oh please, sir. Please call me Rajeev.”

“How long have you worked here, Mr. Chandran?”

The desk clerk swallowed and looked down. “Almost a year, sir.”

“Were you on duty three days ago?”

“No, sir. I had a week off. Yesterday was my first day back.”

“Did you hear about what happened here three days ago?”

The clerk hesitated. His eyes flicked back and forth between Tay and Lee as if it would somehow help him to divine the meaning behind Tay’s question.

“Three days ago?” the clerk stammered. “I wasn’t here three days ago and I don’t—”

“Two men were shot here three days ago,” Tay snapped. “Are you telling me you know nothing about it?”

“Men shot? Here?” The clerk drew back and his eyes widened. “Oh no, you must be mistaken, sir.”

The clerk’s surprise appeared genuine to Tay, but how could that be? Surely that had to be the most exciting thing that ever happened at the Fortuna Hotel, and the desk clerk, even if he hadn’t been on duty then, hadn’t heard anything about it?

“Is the manager here?” Tay asked.

“No, sir.”

“When will he be back?”

“I do not know, sir.”

“When is he usually here?”

“He only comes in now and then, sir. Mostly when one of us is not here. Like last week. Mr. Wang worked for me when I was away.”

“Mr. Wang?” Tay asked.

“Yes, sir. Mr. Robert Wang. He is the manager.”

“You’re saying Mr. Wang was here three days ago working in your place?”

The desk clerk nodded eagerly, happy to have at last provided Tay with an answer he seemed to like.

“Does Mr. Wang wear glasses?” Tay asked the clerk.

“Why, yes, he does. With very thick lenses.”

The clerk made circles with the thumbs and forefingers of both hands and held them in front of his eyes as if Tay might not be familiar with the concept of glasses.

“And he’s a rather elderly Chinese man?”

“Oh yes, sir. That is him. You have met Mr. Wang?”

“I think we have.”

“How can we contact Mr. Wang?” Lee asked the clerk.

The man slowly shook his head. “I do not know, ma’am.”

“Oh come on. Are you telling us you have no way to reach the manager of this hotel? What would you do in an emergency?”

“I would telephone Mr. Wang.”

“So telephone him.”

The clerk went back to slowly shaking his head. “I fear I cannot. When I came back to work, Mr. Wang told me he was going away. He said he could not be reached for at least two weeks.” The clerk seemed to stand a little straighter. “He told me I was in charge until he got back.”

“Where did he go?”

“I do not know, ma’am. He said there had been a death in his family. I thought his family was here in Singapore, but perhaps not.”

“Give me the telephone number you have for him,” Lee said.

The clerk pulled out a drawer and hunted through it. He found a white card and read a telephone number from it. Lee punched the number into her mobile phone, and Tay and the clerk watched Lee in silence until she took the phone away from her ear and pushed the disconnect button.

“No answer, sir.”

“Do you have a home address for Mr. Wang?” Tay asked the clerk.

“Uh…perhaps I can find one somewhere.”

The clerk bent down, and Tay and Lee listened as he opened and closed drawers underneath the reception desk and poked through their contents. Finally he straightened up, waving a sheet of paper. Lee reached out, plucked it from his fingers, and scanned the contents.

“It’s a letter about vacation pay,” she said. “It’s addressed to an apartment in the Woodlands HDB estate.”

Tay looked back at the clerk. “Is this Mr. Wang’s home address?”

The clerk nodded.

Tay took a business card from his shirt pocket and found a pen on the check-in desk. He wrote on the back of the card and then pushed it across the desk to the clerk.

“That’s the number for my mobile phone. If you hear from Mr. Wang, I expect you to call me at once.”

The clerk picked up the card and began nodding so vigorously he made Tay think of a bobblehead doll.

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