Read Inspector Zhang Gets His Wish Online
Authors: Stephen Leather
"It is unlikely," she said quietly, as if she feared giving him the wrong answer.
"I agree," said Inspector Zhang. "It is a hotel room, like any other." The Sergeant smiled with relief.
"It is a suite, one of our best," said the manager.
Inspector Zhang nodded, acknowledging the point. "But nothing in the room has been changed, am I correct? Everything is as it should be?"
"Other than the body on the bed, yes."
"Then we shall move on to the fourth explanation. Suicide."
"Suicide?" repeated the Sergeant. "But if he stabbed himself, where is the weapon?"
"The point of the suicide is to make it look like a murder," said Inspector Zhang. "Either to throw suspicion on someone or to defraud an insurance company. I assume that a wealthy person such as Mr. Wilkinson would have a lot of insurance. Perhaps he has an incurable condition. Cancer perhaps. So he kills himself in such a way that his wife can still claim the insurance."
"Perhaps that’s it," said Mercier. "Surely you check to see if he had any policies."
"But where is the weapon he used?" asked the Sergeant. "If Mr. Wilkinson took his own life, where is the knife?"
"But that is the point exactly," said Inspector Zhang. "To make it appear to be a murder and not a suicide, the weapon must disappear. Mr. Carr suggested a knife made of ice. The ice would then melt leaving only water behind. Or a gun could be attached to a length of elastic which would then whip the gun up a chimney or out of a window."
"There are no chimneys and as Mr. Mercier has already pointed out, the windows in our rooms are all sealed," said the manager.
"And I think ice is unlikely as he would have had to carry it in from outside and the Singaporean climate does not lend itself to carrying ice around," said Inspector Zhang.
"And if Mr. Wilkinson wanted us to make it look like he had been murdered, I don’t think he would have positioned himself on the bed. The floor would be a more likely place. Plus, there is the matter of room service. He spent time with the fragrant Miss Lulu,
then
ordered a meal. Hardly the actions of a man who was about to take his own life." He folded his arms. "So, that leads me to the fifth type of scenario discussed by Mr. Carr. A murder which derives from illusion or impersonation, where the victim is already dead but the murderer makes it appear that he is still alive."
"How would that work in this case, inspector?" asked Miss Berghuis, frowning.
"If for instance it was the prostitute who killed Mr. Wilkinson and she then arranged for someone else to make the call to room service," said Inspector Zhang. "That would give her an alibi when in fact Mr. Wilkinson was already dead when she left the room."
"Do you think that’s what happened?" asked Sergeant Lee.
"That’s simply not possible," said Miss Berghuis. "When a call is made to our Room Service section, the number flashes up on the phone. An order would not be accepted if it came from outside the hotel."
Inspector Zhang nodded thoughtfully. "And of course he spoke to his wife after he had ordered from room service so I do not think that Ms. Lulu was the killer. So, that then brings us to number six on Mr. Carr’s list.
One of the more complicated of his explanations for a locked room murder, and one of the most successful in works of fiction.
In such a situation we have a murder which although committed by somebody outside the room nevertheless appears to have been committed by someone inside the room."
Mercier scratched his bald head. "That doesn’t make sense," he said.
"Oh Mr. Mercier, it makes perfect sense," said Inspector Zhang. "Take for instance the icicle dagger that Mr. Carr spoke of.
Suppose it could be fired through an open window or through a hole drilled into the door. Or a knife thrower in a room opposite the building who throws a knife through an open window but has it tied to a length of string so that he can pull the weapon back. It thus appears that the killer was inside the room when in fact he was outside all the time."
"But the windows are sealed and there are no holes in the door, and besides the main door opens into the sitting room, there is another door off that to the bedroom," said the manager. "The ice dagger would have to turn through ninety degrees and pass through two doors."
Inspector Zhang sighed. "Madam, I am not suggesting for one moment that Mr. Wilkinson was killed by a weapon made from ice."
"Well you are the one who keeps mentioning it," said the manager, flashing him a withering look. "And if the knife didn't melt, where is it?"
"Exactly," said Inspector Zhang. "You have put your finger on the crux of the conundrum. Where is the knife? If indeed it was a knife."
"Do you know?" asked Mercier.
"Why are you asking us if you know?"
"I was being rhetorical," said Inspector Zhang. He took off his glasses and began to methodically polish them with his handkerchief. "I am not sure where the murder weapon is, but I have my suspicions. However, let me first finish Mr. Carr's list of explanations with the seventh, which is effectively the exact opposite of the fifth."
Everyone frowned as they tried to remember what the inspector had said was the fifth method. They all looked around, shrugging at each other.
Sergeant Lee walked over to Inspector Zhang and whispered in his ear. "Inspector Zhang, I need to talk to you," she said.
"Sergeant Lee, I am in full flow here," he said. "Can’t it wait?"
"No Sir, it can not," said the sergeant.
Inspector Zhang sighed with annoyance then nodded at the door to the bedroom. "This had better be important," he said.
They went through to the bedroom and stood at the foot of the bed. "What is it, Sergeant Lee?" asked the inspector. "You seem concerned."
"Sir, we really should be calling in the Forensic Department," she said. She looked at her watch. "It will soon be midnight."
"Not yet," said Inspector Zhang. "I think we can solve this case without resorting to science."
"But it’s procedure, Sir. And we have to follow procedure."
"Sergeant Lee, you know that I speak Japanese, don’t you?"
She nodded. "It came in very useful when we were working on the case of the sushi chef who ran amok in his restaurant," she said.
"Exactly," said Inspector Zhang. "But do you know why I studied Japanese?"
The sergeant shook her head.
"There is a famous Japanese writer named Soji Shimada who wrote thirteen locked room mysteries, only one of which – 'The Tokyo Zodiac Murders' – was translated into English. I wanted to read his other stories, which is why I taught myself Japanese."
"I understand, Inspector Zhang."
"This is important to me, Sergeant Lee. This is a mystery that I can solve. I want to prove that to myself." He smiled. "And perhaps to prove to you that even in the third millennium there is a need for real detectives."
"Like Batman?"
"I was thinking more like Sherlock Holmes," said Inspector Zhang.
"We have an opportunity here that we may never have again in our lives. In Singapore we are lucky if we have one murder a year."
"Lucky, Sir?"
Inspector Zhang put up his hand. "You are right; lucky is not the right word.
Murders are rare in Singapore. Our island state is the most tightly controlled place on the planet; our Government knows everything there is to know about its citizens, so our crime rate is one of the lowest in the world."
"Plus we execute our murderers," said Sergeant Lee. "Which does act as something of a deterrent."
"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."