Stephen Leather: Inspector Zang and the disappearing drugs

The uniformed officer also had trouble with the lock, but eventually he opened the door and stepped aside to allow Inspector Kwok to go in. "And that was it," said Inspector Kwok. "The drugs had gone. The apartment was empty. And during the seven days that we had the apartment under observation no one went in or came out."

"And you have no idea where the drugs are, or how they were removed from the apartment."

"It is a mystery," said Inspector Kwok.

"But a mystery that we shall solve, Inspector Kwok."

"Are you sure?" she asked.

"Inspector Zhang is an expert at solving mysteries," said Sergeant Lee, looking up from her notebook. "It is what he does best."

"Thank you, Sergeant Lee," he said.

"So what shall we do?" asked Inspector Kwok. "How do we begin this investigation? Where do we start?"

"First I would like to talk to the owner of the company that delivered the boxes. Mr. Yin, you said his name is."

"Yes, Mr. Yin. His company is based at the container port."

"Then we should go and see him there," said Inspector Zhang. "Perhaps we should all go in the same car. It might make things easier."

"Absolutely," said Inspector Kwok.

They walked out of the building together into the fierce Singaporean sun.

"We should use the Lexus, it is more spacious than my sergeant's vehicle," said Inspector Zhang.

"Exactly what I was going to suggest," said Inspector Kwok, taking out her keys. Inspector Zhang climbed into the front passenger seat and Sergeant Lee got into the back.

Inspector Kwok was an assured driver and it didn't take her long to get them to the container port. They showed their warrant cards to two security guards and headed for the bonded warehouse.

There were containers piled high wherever they looked in a multitude of colours, though all were one of two sizes — twenty feet long or forty feet. Even in metric Singapore, containers were still measured in feet.

In the distance there was a line of massive container ships with huge cranes swinging containers back and forth above them. There was a near-constant stream of loaded trucks heading towards the exit.

"Did you know that half of the world's annual supply of crude oil goes through Singapore?" said Inspector Zhang. "And a fifth of the world's shipping containers. More than a billion tonnes of goods go through here every year."

"Singapore is one of the wonders of the world," agreed Inspector Kwok. "We have achieved so much and yet we are a mere city state of just over five million people."

"I do sometimes wonder how many of these containers have drugs inside," mused Inspector Zhang. "There are so many of them that there isn't time to check even a small percentage."

"We were lucky with the Burmese heroin," said Inspector Kwok.

"Up to a point," said Sergeant Lee from the back of the car. Inspector Zhang turned to look at her and she smiled politely.

They pulled up in front of the warehouse. A man in a rumpled dark blue suit came out and greeted Inspector Kwok as she climbed out of the Lexus. It was the Chinese man from the video. Mr. Yin. Inspector Kwok introduced him to Inspector Zhang and Sergeant Lee and he solemnly shook hands with them both before taking them inside. The warehouse was filled with boxes and crates and two fork-lift trucks were ferrying more crates from a truck parked in a goods bay. One of the fork-lift drivers was the Indian from the surveillance video.

There was a small office in the corner and Mr. Yin took them inside. A secretary with badly-permed hair was putting files into a cabinet and Mr. Yin asked her to prepare tea for his guests.

Mr. Yin sat down behind his desk and the three detectives sat on high-backed wooden chairs facing him. "We want to thank you again for all your co-operation, Mr. Yin," said Inspector Zhang.

"I am always happy to help the Singapore Police Force," he said. "I am vehemently anti-drugs. I have two children myself and we must make sure that our youngsters are protected."

"Indeed," said Inspector Zhang.

"Do you have children, Inspector?" asked Mr. Yin.

"I do not," said Inspector Zhang. "But I am as concerned as you about the perils of drugs. As is our government. Which is why we execute drugs smugglers in Singapore."

"Which is as it should be," said Mr. Yin. He interlinked his fingers. "So how can I help you today?"

"We have a problem at the apartment where the drugs were left," said Inspector Zhang. "We seem to have mislaid them."

Mr. Yin's forehead creased into a frown. "Mislaid?" he said.

"They have vanished," said Inspector Zhang. "Into thin air it appears."

"But that's impossible."

"I quite agree," said Inspector Zhang.

The secretary appeared with a tray of tea things. She poured them each a small cup of jasmine tea and then went back to her files. Inspector Zhang inhaled the perfumed fragrance and then sipped his tea.

"Now I gather that you had made similar deliveries before," said Inspector Zhang.

"Not me personally," said Mr. Yin. "But our company has."

"Why did you handle the delivery yourself on this occasion?"

"We thought it would be safer to have as few people involved as possible," said Inspector Kwok. "Mr. Yin owns the company so he offered to help rather than send one of his delivery staff."

"So Inspector Kwok had explained to you that there was heroin in the boxes?"

Mr. Yin nodded. "So you can imagine how horrified I was," he said. "To have my company used in that manner, by drug smugglers. How dare they? I run a reputable business, Inspector Zhang, we pay our taxes, we obey the rules and regulations and believe me in this business there are more rules than you can shake a stick at."

"I am sure there are," said Inspector Zhang. "Now please tell me, this was the first time that you had delivered boxes to this particular apartment?"

"It was a different apartment for each delivery," said Mr. Yin. "But always in Geylang."

"And what did you think they contained?"

"It was always industrial coatings. In powder form."

"And is it normal to deliver industrial coatings to an apartment?"

"A lot of small businesses are run from home," said Mr. Yin. "And this was a relatively small delivery."

"And always the same arrangement for the deliveries? The key under the mat?"

Mr. Yin nodded. "We were emailed instructions each time. We were given an address and told to leave the boxes inside."

"Isn't that unusual?" asked Inspector Zhang.

"As I said, delivering small consignments to apartments is not unusual," said Mr. Yin.

"But leaving keys under mats. Is that not unusual?"

"I suppose so," said Mr. Yin. "Though we often leave deliveries with neighbours."

"Even so…"

"You have to understand, Inspector Zhang. We handle dozens of deliveries every day, from single boxes to full containers. This was a relatively small job for us, the paperwork was all in order and they were a regular customer who also paid promptly. We had no reason to suspect that something untoward was going on."

"I understand that," said Inspector Zhang.

"Obviously if we had known…" Mr. Yin shrugged and left the sentence unfinished.

"I am sure," said Inspector Zhang. He looked at his wristwatch. "I wonder if I might ask you for just a little more co-operation, Mr. Yin."

"Of course. Anything."

"Would you mind coming back to the apartment so that we can run through what happened?"

"I don't understand." Mr. Yin looked over at Inspector Zhang. "I thought you just needed my help to deliver the boxes."

"It will not take very long," said Inspector Zhang. "We can drive you there. We have a Lexus."

"If it's absolutely necessary, I suppose I could spare the time," said Mr. Yin, reluctantly. "But I am very busy. This is our busy time of the year."