Stephen Leather: Inspector Zang and the disappearing drugs

The Senior Assistant Commissioner sighed. "It wasn't the first time that the customer had taken delivery of boxes in a container from Thailand," he said. "They were in fact a regular customer. But the customer never actually met anyone from the import-export company. All charges were paid for in Thailand, by a company that apparently does not exist. Or at least does not exist now. The shipping costs were paid in full from Thailand along with instructions of what to do with the consignment. Basically the boxes were to be taken to a delivery address and left there."

He walked around his chair, sat down, and poured himself a glass of water from a bottle. He didn't offer any to Inspector Zhang, and slowly sipped some before continuing.

"The delivery address was never the same, but it was always an apartment in a block in the Geylang area. The delivery men would take the boxes to the apartment and would find a key under the mat outside the door. They would unlock the door, place the boxes in the apartment, then relock the door, put the key back under the mat, and leave. They had apparently done that four times over the past year. The consignment we found was the fifth."

He took another sip of water.

"So, Inspector Kwok liaised with the delivery company and obtained the address from them. She then arranged for our technical department to install CCTV cameras in the hallway of the apartment building and for human surveillance outside the building. Her team then monitored the delivery of the drugs and watched on CCTV as the delivery men went inside the apartment, delivered the boxes, and then left. The men arrived at the apartment, retrieved the key, and took the boxes inside. A few minutes later they left, locked the door, and put the key back under the mat. Inspector Kwok and her team then settled down to wait for the drugs to be collected." He sighed. "Seven days they waited. Round-the-clock surveillance, three teams of four. I personally signed off on the budget."

The Senior Assistant Commissioner picked up a pen and tapped it on the desk. "On the seventh day she called me and said that she thought something had gone wrong, that perhaps the criminals had discovered that the apartment was under surveillance. I gave her permission to abort the operation and to enter the apartment." He put down the pen and interlinked his fingers. "Inspector Kwok did so and discovered that the drugs had vanished. The apartment was empty." He sighed again. "So you see, Inspector Zhang, we have a mystery. I believe it is what crime writers call a closed room mystery."

"A locked room mystery, yes," said Inspector Zhang. "It is a staple of crime fiction."

"And I gather that you are something of an expert in the field," said the Senior Assistant Commissioner.

"Hardly an expert, Sir," said Inspector Zhang, feeling his cheeks redden at the compliment.

"There's no need for modesty, Inspector," said the Senior Assistant Commissioner. "Everyone knows of your success in solving the murder of the American businessman found in his locked hotel room. I need you to apply your expertise to this case. I need you to find the missing drugs and apprehend the criminals."

"I should be most happy to assist," said Inspector Zhang.

"I have asked Inspector Kwok to meet with you at the apartment," said the Senior Assistant Commissioner. "Hopefully you will be able to cast some light on the situation." He handed Inspector Zhang a piece of paper on which was written an address in Geylang.

"I shall certainly do my best," said Inspector Zhang.

The Senior Assistant Commissioner leaned back in his chair. "Answer me a question," he said.

"If I can."

"Why are you still an inspector? Why did you never move through the ranks. You were one of the cleverest at the Academy. Everyone said that you were destined for great things within the force."

Inspector Zhang shrugged. "I am happy being a detective," he said. "I am not a good manager. And I am not suited for politics. You need to be good at both to reach the top."

"You are happy as an inspector?"

"Very."

The Senior Assistant Commissioner sighed. "It is certainly much harder the higher one climbs," he said. "There are some days when I wish I was back handling cases and solving crimes."

"There is a feeling of satisfaction from cracking a case, that is certainly true," said Inspector Zhang.

"But then I think of the salary, and the pension, and the respect," said the Senior Assistant Commissioner. "I could never give that up." He waved at the door. "Anyway, thank you for agreeing to help, and as I said, I will be relying on your discretion."

Inspector Zhang drove back to New Bridge Road where Sergeant Lee was waiting for him in the CID office. She was wearing a pale blue suit and had her hair clipped up with a large navy blue clip. He explained that they had to postpone their current investigations as the Senior Assistant Commissioner's assignment took precedence.

He decided to let the sergeant drive as that would give him time to think. Inspector Zhang did not enjoy driving and generally found it stressful, even in rule-conscious Singapore. He settled back in his seat as Sergeant Lee drove out of the car park. "So do you know Inspector Sally Kwok?" he asked as they headed towards Geylang.

"We were at the Academy together," she said.

Inspector Zhang looked across at her, surprised. "Is she your age?"

"A year younger, I think."

"She has done very well to make inspector at twenty-three," said Inspector Zhang. "I myself was not promoted until I was thirty-five."

"She is what they call a high-flyer, Sir."

"But twenty-three? You are an able detective, Sergeant Lee, Your record is second to none. But you are still a sergeant."

"Yes, Sir," said Sergeant Lee. "I am aware of that."

"What I mean, Sergeant Lee, is that Miss Kwok must be an exceptional police officer to have been promoted so quickly."

"One would assume so," said Sergeant Lee.

"Was her ability discernable at the academy?"

"Not her ability, no," said Sergeant Lee. "But I think we all knew that she was destined for great things."

"You intrigue me, Sergeant Lee," said Inspector Zhang, taking off his spectacles and polishing them.

"I don't mean to," she said.

"I sense that there is something you are not telling me."

Sergeant Lee flashed him a tight smile and she made a left turn. "I'm not one to gossip, Inspector."

"I am very well aware of that," said Inspector Zhang. "Your discretion is one of your many excellent qualities. But as I have been told to assist Inspector Kwok, anything you can tell me that might help me would be greatly appreciated. And be kept in total confidence, of course."

Sergeant Lee pursed her lips for several seconds as if she was having trouble reaching a decision, then she nodded slowly. "Inspector Kwok is very pretty," she said. "She has something of a hypnotic effect on men."

Inspector Zhang smiled. "Hypnotic?"

"In the way that a cobra can hypnotise a rabbit before striking," she said.

Inspector Zhang chuckled as he put his spectacles back on. "And do you think that perhaps the Senior Assistant Commissioner is of the rabbit persuasion?"

"Inspector, I couldn't possibly say such a thing," she said, her cheeks reddening.

"Sergeant Lee, I was joking," said Inspector Zhang. "It's just that the thought had occurred to me that if she was such a good police officer that she was promoted to inspector at twenty-three, how did she manage to misplace a hundred kilos of Burmese heroin?"

Sergeant Lee pulled up in front of a twelve-storey apartment block. There was a black Lexus already parked there and next to it a young woman in a belted raincoat that looked like something that Philip Marlow might have worn in a Raymond Chandler novel. It was a wonderful coat, thought Inspector Zhang as he climbed out of Sergeant Lee's car. A real detective's coat.