The Eight Curious Cases of Inspector Zhang (29 page)

“So Chanel, the maid, she served you both?”

Mrs. Kwan nodded. “She is our maid and also our cook. She prepared meals for both of us.”

“But you never ate together?”

Mrs. Kwan laughed but here was a hard edge to her voice. “Of course not. He could not bear to be in the same room as me.”

“She prepared your meals at the same time?”

Mrs. Kwan frowned. “I don't understand the question.”

“Did Chanel cook one meal and serve it to you separately? Or did she make individual meals?”

“Individual meals. We each told her what we wanted and when we wanted it.”

“And Chanel. Where is she now?”

Mrs. Kwan nodded at the door. “She has a room off the kitchen. She stays there when she is not working.”

“If you don't mind, I would like a word with her.”

“She didn't see the burglar, I'm sure of that,” said Mrs. Kwan. “She was in the kitchen when we heard the break in.” She looked across at Dr. Mayang. “That's right, isn't it?”

The doctor nodded in agreement.

“Who exactly was the last person to see your husband alive?” asked Inspector Zhang.

“That would have been Chanel. She took him in his cup of tea. He always drank a cup of hot Japanese green tea in the evening. She took him his tea at about five o'clock, I think.”

“And what about his evening meal?”

“My husband always ate early. He would have eaten at about four-thirty. You would have to ask Chanel. I really take no interest in my husband's eating habits.” She looked at her watch again and made a tutting sound.

“I need to have a conversation with her,” said Inspector Zhang. “I would be grateful if you and Dr. Mayang would remain here for a while longer.”

“I really must protest,” said Mrs. Kwan tersely. “It is most improper that I am being kept a prisoner in my own home.”

“I won't keep you for much longer,” said the inspector. He found the maid sitting in a small windowless room at the back of the kitchen. She was in her mid-thirties with nut-brown skin and glossy black hair tied back in a ponytail. There was a small wooden cross on the wall above her tiny bed and below it were taped half a dozen photographs of two small children, a boy aged nine or ten and a girl a couple of years younger.

She had left the door open. Inspector Zhang could understand why; the room was hardly much bigger than the kitchen table, certainly smaller than any prison cell he'd ever seen. She looked up as he appeared at the door and began to get to her feet. She was wearing a white apron over a simple print dress and flat shoes that appeared to be made of plastic. She started to stand up but Inspector Zhang smiled and waved for her to remain sitting. He showed her his police identification. “My name is Inspector Zhang and I just need to ask you a few questions,” he said.

“Am I in trouble?” she said. “I cannot lose this job, Inspector. My children need the money I send home every month.” Her lower lip was trembling and she pulled a handkerchief from her apron and dabbed at her eyes.

Inspector Zhang smiled and shook his head. “Of course you're not in trouble,” he said. “I just have some questions, that's all. Can you tell me what happened earlier today?”

“About Sir, you mean?”

Inspector Zhang nodded. “Dr. Kwan, yes,” he said. “I understand you were the last person to see Dr. Kwan alive?”

She nodded and dabbed at her eyes again. “I served him beef noodles in the study at half past four. Then at five o'clock I took him his tea. He always drank tea in the evening as he listened to his music.”

“So you went into the study?”

She nodded tearfully.

“The door was locked, was it?”

“No, he always waited until I took Sir his tea before he began listening to his music. I would give him his tea and then he would lock the door.”

“So Mrs. Kwan never made tea for her husband?”

Chanel shook her head. “Ma'am didn't do anything for him. And Sir didn't do anything for her. They never even spoke to each other.”

“And where was Mrs. Kwan while you were making Dr. Kwan's tea?”

The maid frowned as she struggled to remember. “I think Ma'am was in the kitchen.” She nodded. “Yes, she was getting the glasses and wine ready for her visitor. It was red wine and she opened the bottle. She always opened red wine at least an hour before she drank it. Ma'am said red wine needs to breathe. Is that true, do you know?”

Inspector Zhang smiled. “I think it is,” he said. “Allowing air to come into contact with the wine makes it taste better.”

“That's what Ma'am said.”

“So she was here with you in the kitchen?”

“Yes. Ma'am said she was expecting Dr. Mayang and asked that I prepare some snacks once I had given Sir his tea.”

“What sort of snacks?”

“Cheese, crackers. Some spring rolls. Dr. Mayang loves my spring rolls.”

“And you prepared the snacks after you had served Dr. Kwan his tea?”

The maid nodded.

“What happened when you gave Dr. Kwan his tea?” asked Inspector Zhang.

“I knocked on the door. Sir said to come in. I put the tea down on the table by his chair.”

“So you served him his tea and went back to the kitchen?”

“Yes, Inspector.”

“And where was Mrs. Kwan at this point?”

“She had gone to the sitting room.”

“And what did you do next?”

“I prepared the snacks as Ma'am had asked.”

“How long did that take you?”

“About half an hour.”

“And during that time, Mrs. Kwan was in the sitting room?”

“I think so,” said the maid.

“And what time did Dr. Mayang arrive?”

“At just after six o'clock,” she said. “I'm really not sure exactly.”

“You let Dr. Mayang in?”

The maid nodded. “Yes. And I served the wine and the snacks and then came back here, to my room.”

“Your room is quite some distance from the sitting room,” said the inspector. “How does Mrs. Kwan summon you if you are needed?”

The maid smiled and pointed at a small metal box above the door. “That is a bell, sir. Ma'am presses a button and it rings.”

“The button is in the sitting room?”

“It's a wireless system, Inspector. Sir and Ma'am carry small beepers and when they press them the bell rings. Ma'am's bell is like a real bell and Sir's is like a buzzer so I know who is ringing me and I go looking for them.”

“And you were in here when the window broke?”

The maid picked up a leather-bound book. “I was reading my Bible,” she said.

“You didn't hear the window break? Or the scream?”

She put the Bible down on a small stool next to her bed. “No,” she said.

“But you heard Mrs. Kwan shouting?”

The maid frowned as she tried to remember. “I don't think I heard her in the hallway but I heard Ma'am shouting when she came into the kitchen,” she said eventually.

“Mrs. Kwan came here? You didn't go out to see what was happening?”

“Yes. She wanted to know where I was. She said that something had happened to Sir.”

“She said that? She said something had happened to her husband?”

The maid frowned again. “I'm not sure,” she said. “Maybe Ma'am said she had heard glass breaking. I'm sorry. It was all very frantic.”

“I'm sure it was,” said the inspector. “So what happened then?”

“Ma'am told me to go with her. She took me and Dr. Mayang out of the kitchen door and out into the garden. That was when we saw that the window had been broken. We could see Sir in his chair. Ma'am rushed over to him and then she screamed that he was dead.”

“You saw Dr. Kwan in his chair? Are you sure? Think carefully, Chanel.”

The maid frowned and then shook her head. “No, of course, we couldn't see anything from the terrace. It was only when we went inside that we saw the body.”

“And were the French windows open? Or closed?”

“Closed. Definitely closed.”

“And did you see anyone else in the garden?”

The maid shook her head and dabbed at her eyes again.

“And who called the police?”

“Dr. Mayang. She used her mobile phone.”

“Did you call for an ambulance?”

The maid frowned. “No. No, I didn't.”

“I thought that Mrs. Kwan told you to call for an ambulance?”

The maid nodded quickly. “Oh yes, sir, she did. But then Dr. Mayang said that an ambulance wouldn't be necessary.”

“Had Dr. and Mrs. Kwan being arguing at all?” asked the inspector. “Had they been fighting over the past day or two?”

“They didn't argue,” she said. “They didn't speak. You know they were divorcing?”

Inspector Zhang nodded. “Yes, I heard that.”

“I don't understand how couples can divorce,” she said. “You marry for life, for better or worse, until death do you part.” She took a deep breath and then sighed. “My husband died five years ago. Cancer.”

“I'm sorry to hear that,” said the inspector.

“Now I have to work in Singapore to make money for my children,” she said. “I need this job, Inspector. Ma'am won't sack me, will she?”

“I don't see why she would,” said Inspector Zhang. He stood up and thanked her before heading back to the sitting room. Sergeant Lee was waiting for him in the hallway. “What did Meteorological Services say?” he asked her

The sergeant looked at her notebook. “There were two showers,” she said. “The first started at two-forty-six and finished at three-thirteen. The second shower started at five-fifteen this evening and finished at five-forty-two.”

“And that was all? Just the two showers?”

“Just the two,” she said.

The inspector smiled. “Then we have our murderer,” he whispered.

“We do?” asked the sergeant.

The inspector's smile widened. “Oh yes, most definitely,” he said.

He walked across the room to the sofa where the two women were sitting.

“Are we done yet?” asked Mrs. Kwan, pointedly looking at her watch.

“Almost,” said Inspector Zhang.

Sergeant Lee came into the room, putting her notepad into her handbag.

“I really must insist that you leave us now, Inspector,” said Mrs. Kwan. “There are funeral arrangements to be arranged, I have to talk to the people who run our clinics. My husband's death is going to cause a lot of problems.”

“I'm sure that's true,” said the inspector. “Perhaps you would be good enough to join me in your husband's study.”

Mrs. Kwan and Dr. Mayang both got to their feet but Inspector Zhang waved a hand at the doctor. “There's no need for us to bother you, Dr. Mayang,” he said. The doctor sat back on the sofa.

The forensic investigator was kneeling down in front of the body and he looked up as the inspector walked in.

“Have you dusted the handle of the knife for fingerprints, Mr. Yuen?” asked Inspector Zhang.

“I have, but it's clean,” said the investigator. “The killer must have been wearing gloves.”

“I think not,” said the inspector. He walked over to the side table next to Dr. Kwan's chair and picked up a CD case. It was jazz, a collection of songs by Ella Fitzgerald. “Your husband was a fan of jazz?” he asked Mrs. Kwan.

Mrs. Kwan nodded. “I hated it. That was why he used his headphones.”

“That was considerate of him,” said Inspector Zhang.

“It had nothing to do with consideration,” said Mrs. Kwan. “He used to play his music at full volume all evening until the judge told him to stop. Now if he plays music through the speakers he has to appear in court.”

Inspector Zhang opened the CD case. There was a CD inside. “Ah, so he wasn't listening to Ella Fitzgerald. That's interesting.”

Mrs. Kwan's face tightened.

“I wonder what he was listening to?” said the inspector. He put the case back on the side table. He walked over to the stereo system and ran his finger along a row of CDs. “They all seem to be in place,” he said. “The Ella Fitzgerald is the only case out. So I wonder what the good doctor was listening to?”

He turned to look at Mrs. Kwan. Her face was ashen and she was fiddling with her wedding ring. “Inspector Zhang, please …” she said.

“It would be better if you confessed now and at least showed some remorse,” said the inspector. “The longer you allow this to go on, the worse it will be for you.”

Dr. Mayang appeared in the doorway. “What is going on?” she asked. The uniformed officer was standing behind her, his arms folded.

“I am about to arrest Mrs. Kwan for the murder of her husband,” said Inspector Zhang.

“That is nonsense,” said the doctor. “I was with her when her husband was attacked. We were both in the sitting room when we heard the glass smash and him scream.”

“Both those statements are true,” said the inspector. “But that does not make her less of a murderer.” He frowned. “Or murderess, I suppose I should say.”

“Inspector Zhang, it would have physically impossible for Mrs. Kwan to have been in two places at the same time.” She looked over at Mrs. Kwan. “Don't worry, Elsie, I shall be a witness for you. This is ridiculous.”

Tears were welling up in Mrs. Kwan's eyes.

“Yes, you will indeed be a witness, Dr. Mayang,” said Inspector Zhang. “A witness to Mrs. Kwan murdering her husband.”

“How can you say that, Inspector Zhang? Mrs. Kwan was with me in the sitting room when her husband was killed.”

“That is what she wanted you to think, Dr. Mayang. In fact Mrs. Kwan went to a great deal of trouble to make it seem that she was drinking wine with you when her husband died. But that's not what actually happened. Is it, Mrs. Kwan?”

Mrs. Kwan said nothing.