The Eight Curious Cases of Inspector Zhang (28 page)

“I didn't see that was any of your business,” said Mrs. Kwan. “My husband was killed by an intruder. Our personal situation has nothing to do with that.” She pointed at the forensic investigator who was bending over his case. “And why did you tell him to take my handkerchief?”

“I noticed there were spots of blood on it,” said Inspector Zhang. “And on your suit, too.”

“Of course there was. I touched the knife when I checked on my husband. I used the handkerchief to wipe it off me.”

“Then the handkerchief is evidence, Mrs. Kwan. I am sure you can understand that. But what I don't understand is why, if you were divorcing, you are still living in the same house?”

Mrs. Kwan gave him a long, hard look before replying. “My husband was a very difficult man,” she said, her voice barely more than a whisper. “He had been having an affair for the past three years but he was refusing to give me what was rightfully mine.”

“I don't understand,” said the inspector.

“I am entitled to half the marital assets. Our house, our business, the yacht, our investments, his coin collection, his pension fund. But he was refusing to give me anything. That's why I was forced to live under the same roof as him, despite the shame he brought on me.”

“What shame would that be?” asked Inspector Zhang,

“I really do not see what business that is of yours, Inspector,” said Mrs. Kwan tersely.

“This is a murder investigation,” said Inspector Zhang. “I have the authority to ask any questions that I see fit, and I have the power to insist that you come to the police station if you don't provide satisfactory answers to those questions.” He blinked at her but then smiled like a kindly uncle. “The sooner you answer my questions, Mrs. Kwan, the sooner I can leave.”

Mrs. Kwan took a deep breath to compose herself. “When my husband and I married he had just one small clinic. He had one nurse, and that was me. We worked seven days a week to build the clinic and then open another and another. I wanted children but he said to wait until we were on a firmer financial footing. Then when we had all the money we needed he still always had a reason why the time wasn't right for us to have a child.” She took another deep breath and Inspector Zhang saw that there were tears in her eyes. “Last year I discovered that my husband had been keeping a mistress. It turned out that she had been a nurse in our clinic in Dubai. The icing on the cake was that they have a child. A two-year-old daughter.”

Inspector Zhang nodded sympathetically. “That being the case, why did you not leave?”

“Because me lawyer told me that if I left the marital home voluntarily that could be considered desertion.”

“And your husband did not consider moving out to be with the mother of his child?”

Mrs. Kwan shook her head. “He was more concerned that he kept the house. He had already moved most of our money into offshore trusts and he was making it difficult for me to get a lawyer.”

“And how exactly was he doing that?”

She shook her head. “I don't know. All I know is that every time I went to see a lawyer they would agree to take my case, but within a week they would come up with some excuse for not taking me on as a client. I'm sure my husband was behind it, but I could never prove it. The only lawyer I could get is frankly not up to the job.”

Inspector Zhang nodded thoughtfully. “It appears that nothing was stolen. Is it possible that your husband had enemies? Someone who would want to hurt him?”

“Other than me, you mean?” She smiled tightly. “If my husband treated others the way he treated me then yes, I'm sure he had a lot of enemies.”

“Inspector, I really think you are being a tad insensitive with Mrs. Kwan,” said Dr. Mayang. “Her husband has been brutally murdered. And she was sitting next to me on this very sofa when it happened.”

“I do understand your concerns,” said the inspector. “I would like to suggest that Mrs. Kwan speaks with Sergeant Lee in the kitchen while I speak with you.”

“Is that really necessary?” asked Mrs. Kwan, archly.

It was, very much so, thought Inspector Zhang, but he simply smiled and nodded. “It will make things easier and we will take up less of your time,” he said. In fact it was important to get the two witnesses apart when they told their stories so that their individual versions could be compared.

Mrs. Kwan stood up, clearly unhappily. “Very well then,” she said. “It will at least give me the chance to prepare some jasmine tea. Would you like some?”

“That would be lovely,” said Inspector Zhang.

“I was talking to Dr. Mayang,” said Mrs. Kwan. “I do not expect that you will be here long enough to be drinking tea.”

“I would love some tea, thank you,” said Dr. Mayang.

Mrs. Kwan walked out of the room, followed by Sergeant Lee.

Sergeant Wu nodded at Inspector Zhang. “I shall be outside, Inspector. No doubt the media will be here soon.” She left the room. The forensic investigator went to join his colleague in the study.

Inspector Zhang sat down on the sofa next to Dr. Mayang. “So what time did you arrive at the house, Dr. Mayang?”

“At six o'clock.”

“Precisely six o'clock?”

The doctor smiled. “I am always on time, Inspector. I am a very punctual person.”

“And Mrs. Kwan was expecting you?”

“We had arranged for me to call around at six. She had wanted to see me earlier but I had a patient to see in my surgery so six o'clock was the earliest I could get here.”

“And was it raining?”

Dr. Mayang frowned. “It stopped while I was driving, I think.” She narrowed her eyes and then nodded. “Yes, it stopped before I got here. I know because I had an umbrella and I didn't need it when I got out of the car.”

“And what was the purpose of your visit?”

“The purpose?”

“Was it a professional visit, or a social one? I see you have your medical bag with you.”

The doctor smiled. “Ah, I see what you mean. Mrs. Kwan has been my patient for many years. But she is also a friend. And before that, many years ago, she worked for me. She had just qualified as a nurse and I gave her her first job.”

“But your visit today?”

“A social visit, Inspector. A chance to chat and drink some wine.”

“On those occasions that your visits are professional, what is the nature of your consultations?”

The doctor smiled. “I'm afraid I can't tell you that, Inspector. Doctor-patient privilege. I'm sure you understand.”

Inspector Zhang removed his glasses and carefully polished them with a large blue handkerchief. “Of course,” he said. “So please tell me what happened this evening.”

“I arrived here at about six o'clock,” she said. “Mrs. Kwan opened a bottle of wine and we drank and chatted. She is having a difficult time, with the divorce and everything. Then we heard the sound of the window breaking. It was followed a few seconds later by a loud scream. Mrs. Kwan rushed across the hallway but the door to the study was locked. She banged on the door but nobody answered.”

“You were with Mrs. Kwan in the hallway?”

“Yes. She was very distraught. She rushed to the kitchen and shouted for the maid.”

“For what reason?”

“For what reason? I don't understand.”

“Did she want the maid to do anything?”

Dr. Mayang shook her head. “I don't think so. I think perhaps she just wanted people around her when she went outside. She took us out of the kitchen door and around the back of the house. As soon as we got near the study we could see that the window had been broken. Mrs. Kwan rushed inside and began screaming that her husband was dead.”

“Was the door open when you first approached it?”

“I'm not sure.”

“Please try to remember, Dr. Mayang. It is important.”

The doctor nodded slowly. “It was ajar, I think.” She frowned and then put up a hand to her face. “No,” she said. “It was closed. I remember that Mrs. Kwan had to turn the handle to open it.” She nodded, more confidently this time. “Yes, I'm sure, it was shut.”

“And where were you and the maid at the point that Mrs. Kwan went inside?”

“We were on the terrace.”

“You didn't go inside?”

“We did, yes. But she rushed ahead. She was quite frantic.”

“Who followed Mrs. Kwan inside first? You or the maid?”

“The maid first. Then I followed.”

“And what did you see?”

“Mrs. Kwan was bent over her husband. I couldn't see that at first, of course. The chair was facing away from us so I just saw the chair and her. Then she stood up and looked at me and said that he was dead. I hurried over and took a look for myself.”

“And was he dead?”

“He was dying,” said Dr. Mayang. “I felt a very faint pulse initially and there was a slight movement of his chest, but he was covered in blood.”

“You didn't touch the knife?”

“Of course not,” she said. “Removing the knife would have only hastened the blood loss.”

“What was Mrs. Kwan doing at this point?”

“She was shouting at the maid to call for an ambulance. But I could see that was a waste of time. Mr. Kwan took his last breath and then there was no pulse.”

“He died while you were there?”

The doctor nodded. “Most definitely.”

“And did you see anyone else, while you were on the terrace? Anyone running away, for instance? Or anyone who shouldn't have been there?”

“I don't think so,” she said. “But to be honest I wasn't looking. Once we saw the broken window, that was all we were looking at.”

Sergeant Lee appeared at the doorway. “Mrs. Kwan has tea for Dr. Mayang,” she said.

“That is fine, I have finished my interview with Dr. Mayang,” said Inspector Zhang.

Sergeant Lee stepped to the side and Mrs. Kwan walked into the room, carrying a tray of tea things. She put the tray on a side table and Inspector Zhang stood up so that she could sit down next to her friend.

“Are we finished?” asked Mrs. Kwan as she sat down.

“Soon,” said Inspector Zhang. He smiled at Sergeant Lee. “Sergeant, I need you to do something for me as a matter of urgency. Would you contact Meteorological Services and obtain from them the times of today's rainfall?”

“It rained for about half an hour, not long before we left the station.”

The inspector flashed her a kindly smile. “I need the precise times, please.”

“Of course, Inspector,” said Sergeant Lee. She fished her mobile phone from her handbag as she left the room.

“Is this going to be much longer?” asked Mrs. Kwan.

“I just have a few more questions,” said Inspector Zhang.

Mrs. Kwan looked at her wristwatch. “I really cannot spare you more than a few minutes,” she said.

“I'm sure that will be more than enough,” he said. “Now, Dr. Mayang has quite rightly not given me any information about her professional relationship with you.”

“Doctor patient privilege,” said the doctor, nodding.

“The Singapore Medical Council, if I remember correctly, states in its Ethical Code and Ethical Guidelines that information obtained in confidence or in the course of attending to the patient should not be disclosed without a patient's consent.”

“That is quite correct, Inspector,” said the doctor.

“That being said, I would like to ask you, Mrs. Kwan, if the medical problems you have had have been associated with your divorce.”

“My divorce?” repeated Mrs. Kwan.

“I understand that you wished to obtain a divorce from your husband but that he was making it difficult.”

“He was being impossible,” said Mrs. Kwan tersely. “He had cut off all my money and had been moving his assets offshore. My husband has quite a lot of influence and he managed to get three legal firms to drop me, one by one.” She threw up her hands. “It has been a nightmare, Inspector Zhang. A living hell.”

“One that Dr. Mayang has been able to offer you some help, I suppose?”

“My nerves are in a tangle,” said Mrs. Kwan. “I barely sleep these days. My blood pressure has been through the roof. I think that was always his plan, to put me under such stress that I would simply die.”

Inspector Zhang nodded sympathetically. “So Dr. Mayang prescribed you tablets for your blood pressure?”

Mrs. Kwan nodded.

“And for your nerves? An anti-depressant, perhaps?”

“They have been a life-saver,” said Mrs. Kwan.

“And for those sleepless nights? No doubt she prescribed you sleeping tablets?”

“They are the only way that I can get a good night's sleep,” said Mrs. Kwan. “Without them I just lie in my bed, my mind in a turmoil.”

“It can't have been easy, living under the same roof with a man you wanted to divorce.”

“I had no choice, I knew that if I ever left I would never see my house again,” said Mrs. Kwan. “But this has been my home for almost twenty years? Why should I leave?”

“You had separate bedrooms?”

Mrs. Kwan nodded. “We did. And during the day I confined myself to this room and he stayed in the study.”

“You rarely spoke?”

“There was no need,” said Mrs. Kwan. “If I needed to tell him anything I passed a letter to our maid.”

“Chanel?”

“Yes, Chanel. If my husband wanted to say something to me then he would give a note to Chanel. But mainly he communicated through his lawyers and they would write to me. But really, Inspector Zhang, he never had anything of importance to say to me on a daily basis. He hated me. I had never wronged him yet he hated me with a vengeance.”

“Why did he hate you, do you think?”

“I don't think I know. Because I wanted what was rightfully mine. I wanted the house, and I wanted half the business. He wasn't prepared to give me either.”