Inspector Zhang and the Perfect Alibi Read online

Page 3


  Constable Patel looked relieved. “So how can I help you, Inspector?”

  Sergeant Lee’s mobile phone rang and she walked away to take the call. “The night you arrested Mr. Yip, you had gone around to his apartment because of a noise complaint?”

  The constable nodded. “The neighbour who lived below Mr. Yip complained about music being played too loudly. Do you mind if I look at my notebook?”

  “Of course, please do,” said Inspector Zhang.

  The Constable fished his notebook out of his tunic pocket, licked a finger and began flicking through the pages. “I went around with a colleague at four o’clock in the afternoon.”

  “That seems early for a noise complaint.”

  “The neighbour had guests around, playing Mah Jong. The music was so loud they could not concentrate on their game. We went up to speak to Mr. Yip. He had been drinking but he agreed to turn the music down. He did, and we went down to talk to the neighbours again and all was well. But we were called out again at five thirty. The music was so loud the glasses were vibrating in the neighbour’s flat. We went back to see Mr. Yip and this time he was clearly drunk. We asked him to turn the volume down and he refused. We tried to get into his apartment and he became abusive and violent. We arrested him and took him to Jurong West Police Headquarters.” He closed his notebook. “The Duty Officer decided to remand him in custody; basically he was too drunk to be bailed. My understanding was he was to appear in court on Monday morning.”

  “The matter has become somewhat more serious,” said Inspector Zhang. “Now please tell me again how Mr. Yip came to be arrested.”

  Constable Patel shrugged. “I asked him to turn the volume down. He refused. I told him I would turn it down myself and I tried to get by him. He pushed me in the chest and told me I could not enter his apartment without a warrant. I said that as he was causing a nuisance I was entitled to, and when I tried to enter a second time he gripped my arm and pushed me out into the hallway. At that point my colleague and I handcuffed him and I arrested him for assault.”

  “Did you at any point form the impression he wanted to be taken into custody?”

  The constable shook his head. “He was very angry and it took both of us to get him into the back of the van.”

  “And do you have any idea why he didn’t turn the music down after your first visit?”

  “I think he’d had more to drink, inspector. He was a lot less reasonable the second time we went to his apartment.”

  Inspector Zhang smiled and nodded. “Thank you for your time, Constable. I have everything I need.”

  “And I’m not in trouble?”

  “You behaved impeccably, Constable.”

  “Thank you, Sir.” The Constable saluted and walked away.

  Sergeant Lee returned, slipping her BlackBerry into her bag. “It is bad news, Inspector Zhang,” she said.

  “Oh dear, “said the inspector. “What is the problem?”

  “Mr. Yip does not have a twin brother,” she said. “He has a sister who is three years older and two brothers who are both younger.”

  “That is indeed a pity,” said Inspector Zhang. “Have you considered a clone?”

  Sergeant Lee’s mouth opened in surprise. “A clone?” she said. “Do you think that’s what happened? You think Mr. Yip used a clone to commit the murder?”

  Inspector Zhang raised his hand. “I apologise, Sergeant Lee, I was being flippant. My little joke.” He shook his head. “No, I think in this case Mr. Yip is the innocent party. The worst thing he did on Sunday night was to assault a police officer, and that was because he was drunk. He is not a killer.”

  “Then who killed Miss Chau?” asked Sergeant Lee.

  “There is only one person who could possibly have murdered her,” said Inspector Zhang. “But in order to prove it we must talk to the detectives who collected the dental records from Dr. Hu, and then we must examine Miss Chau’s belongings.”

  Two hours later Inspector Zhang and Sergeant Lee arrived at the home of Dr. Hu. He lived in a penthouse apartment in the Marina Bay Residences, one of the most expensive buildings in Singapore. The apartments formed part of a $5 billion hotel and casino development that was opened in 2010 and which had spectacular views over the harbour. It was just after eight o’clock in the evening. Inspector Zhang was tired and he could have left the visit until the following day, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep until he had closed the case.

  There were two security guards at the reception desk, men in their fifties who looked as if they were former soldiers. He showed them his warrant card. “I am here to see Dr. Hu, but he is not expecting us. I would like to go up unannounced.”

  One of the security guards escorted Inspector Zhang and Sergeant Lee to the lifts and they rode up to the top floor. Inspector Zhang rang the bell and after a few seconds Dr. Hu opened the front door. He frowned when he saw the policemen on his doorstep. “Is something wrong?” he asked. He was wearing a dinner jacket and had an untied black bow tie around his neck. His mobile phone was in a leather holster on his belt.

  “We would like a word with you, Dr. Hu,” said Inspector Zhang.

  “And it couldn’t wait until tomorrow?”

  “I’m afraid not.”

  “I am just on my way out,” said Dr. Hu. “My wife is hosting a dinner at the Imperial Treasure restaurant.”

  “I’m afraid it is rather important,” said Inspector Zhang.

  Dr. Hu looked at his watch. “Five minutes,” he said tersely. “Then I really must go.”

  He stepped aside to allow Inspector Zhang into the apartment, then closed the door behind them. “I really must fix my tie,” said Dr. Hu, and he hurried off to his bedroom before the inspector could say anything.

  Inspector Zhang wandered around the huge room with its floor to ceiling windows that overlooked the harbour. There was a huge chandelier hanging from the ceiling and furniture that would have looked at home in the Palace of Versailles. There were gilt-framed oil paintings on the wall and ornate marble statues of leaping dolphins and mermaids on a cabinet. The sitting room alone was twice the size of the apartment where Inspector Zhang lived with his wife.

  “This apartment is lovely,” said Inspector Zhang. “I don’t think I have ever been in such a spectacular apartment.”

  “It’s beautiful,” agreed Sergeant Lee. “But I don’t like being so high in the air.”

  “My wife would love it,” said Inspector Zhang. “She always asks for a high floor when we stay at hotels. But, personally, I prefer being close to the ground.”

  Dr. Hu reappeared from the bedroom, his bowtie neatly tied. He looked at his watch again. It was gold with diamonds around the face. “Now, how can I help you,” he said. “Because I really must be going.”

  “I was just saying to my assistant what a wonderful apartment this is.”

  “Thank you,” said Dr. Hu, flustered by the unexpected compliment.

  “My mother always wanted me to be a dentist,” said Inspector Zhang, looking around. “I am starting to think perhaps she was right.”

  “What do you mean, Inspector?” asked Dr. Hu.

  Inspector Zhang waved a hand around the room. “Just that on an inspector’s salary I couldn’t afford to buy more than a few square meters of an apartment like this. Now, if I had been a dentist…” He shrugged. “As they say, hindsight is a wonderful thing.”

  Dr. Hu chuckled. “Ah, I understand. No, Inspector, it is not my salary as a dentist that pays for this lovely home. My wife is the one with money. Her father runs a shipping company and he has been doing very well in recent years.”

  “I wondered if you were married,” said Inspector Zhang. “I noticed you do not wear a wedding band.”

  “Dentists tend not to wear rings,” said Dr. Hu. “They would get in the way and they also harbour germs. Our hands are often in people’s mouths so hygiene is paramount. A ring might pierce a surgical glove, for instance.” He held up his left hand. “So, no rin
gs.”

  “Of course,” said Inspector Zhang. “Though I suppose that not wearing a wedding ring also helped you meet Miss Chau.”

  “I’m sorry?”

  “The first time you met she wouldn’t have seen a ring and wouldn’t have known you were married. Or was it that she knew but didn’t care?”

  “Inspector, what are you talking about?”

  “Miss Chau. Sindy Chau. I am assuming she was threatening to spoil the arrangement you had and that’s why you killed her.”

  Sergeant Lee’s jaw dropped and she lowered her pen and notebook.

  “That is ridiculous,” said Dr. Hu.

  “On the contrary,” said Inspector Zhang. “There is absolutely nothing ridiculous about murder.”

  “But you have the murderer in custody,” said Dr. Hu. “You told me so when you came to my surgery.”

  “And that was your downfall, because Mr. Yip was in custody when he was supposed to be killing Miss Chau. Your plan was almost perfect, Dr. Hu. But the only thing you could not control was the fact that Mr. Yip would lose his temper with the policeman who asked him to turn down the volume of his music.”

  “Music?”

  “You knew Mr. Yip lived alone. So you assumed that if you killed Miss Chau late at night and framed Mr. Yip, he would not have an alibi other than to say he was home alone.”

  “I did not even know Miss Chau. Why would I want to kill her?”

  “You had the oldest reason of all, Dr. Hu. But I have to admire your creativity. If Mr. Yip had not been arrested, you would have gotten away with it.”

  Dr. Hu threw up his hands in exasperation. “How dare you come to my home and make allegations like this,” he said. “I insist you leave. I shall be complaining to your superiors.”

  “So you are not interested in how you gave yourself away?” asked Inspector Zhang.

  Dr. Hu’s eyes narrowed. “What are you talking about?”

  “When we came to see you in your surgery, do you remember? We wanted to talk to you about the comparison between the bite on Miss Chau’s arm and the dental records you had.”

  “And they were a perfect match; your own forensic people told you that. All I did was to supply the records; I did not make the comparison. Mr. Yip bit Miss Chau on the arm; that is irrefutable.”

  “No, Dr. Hu, it is not. Mr. Yip did not bite Miss Chau. In fact he never met her. He certainly did not burgle her house nor did he kill her. Someone else did. But it wasn’t until you gave yourself away that I began to consider you as a suspect.”

  Dr. Hu sneered at the inspector. “Gave myself away? You are talking nonsense. Now please leave.” He gestured at the door impatiently.

  “Do you remember what you said to us, Dr. Hu? When we talked about Mr. Yip, you said how you didn’t think he was the sort of man who would stab an innocent woman.”

  “Because he had always seemed to be a perfectly nice man whenever I saw him. I did not know he was a criminal, let alone a criminal capable of murder.”

  “I am sure you knew exactly the sort of man Mr. Yip is,” said Inspector Zhang. “It was vital to your plan that he was a known house-breaker.”

  “My plan? What plan are you talking about?”

  Inspector Zhang ignored the dentist’s question. “Dr. Hu, how did you know that Miss Chau had been stabbed?”

  “What?”

  “When we saw you in your surgery you said Mr. Yip had stabbed an innocent woman. But no one had told you she had been stabbed. The cause of death had not been released at that stage.”

  Dr. Hu frowned. “Someone must have told me. The detectives who collected the records from me, perhaps.”

  Inspector Zhang turned to Sergeant Lee. “My sergeant has spoken to the detectives and they confirmed they did no such thing. Isn’t that right, Sergeant?”

  Sergeant Lee stopped scribbling in her notebook. “I spoke to both of them myself,” she said. She flicked through her notebook. “They said they told you it was a murder investigation but gave you no details of the case. They did not tell you the name of the victim, nor the manner in which she died.”

  “They are wrong,” said Dr. Hu. “They made a mistake when they told me and now they are lying to cover it up.”

  “I think you will find in a case like this a court is more likely to believe two detectives with more than twenty years’ experience with the Singapore Police Force between them than a murderer who is desperate to save himself.”

  “How dare you call me a murderer,” said Dr. Hu angrily.

  “That is what you are, Dr. Hu,” said Inspector Zhang calmly.

  “You have no proof.”

  Inspector Zhang reached into his jacket pocket and took out a mobile phone. “I do have this,” he said. “This is Sindy Chau’s phone. She wasn’t a patient, you said? In fact you said you never met her?”

  “That’s right. You can check with my surgery. I have never treated her.”

  “Miss Chau doesn’t have you listed by name on her phone,” said Inspector Zhang. “I assume you told her not to, in the same way you insisted on her having no photographs in her house, the house you were paying for. Of course the lease was paid through a company but I doubt that we will find it difficult to connect you to it.”

  “Ridiculous,” said Dr. Hu.

  “Miss Chau doesn’t have you listed in her phone contacts but she does have a listing for Dentist,” said Inspector Zhang. “So let’s see what happens when I press it. I assume it will go through to whichever surgery she uses.”

  Inspector Zhang pressed the call button and the colour seemed to drain from Dr. Hu’s face. After a few seconds there was a musical ringtone from the phone attached to Dr. Hu’s belt.

  Inspector Zhang’s face broke into a smile. “It sounds like someone is calling you, Dr. Hu,” he said. “Perhaps you should answer that.”

  “You don’t understand,” said Dr. Hu. “She was threatening to tell my wife. She said she was fed up with being just a mistress, and if I didn’t choose her then I’d lose her and I’d lose my wife.”

  “On the contrary, I understand everything, Dr. Hu. You did not wish to lose the lifestyle that came from your wealthy wife. So you decided the way to keep it would be to dispose of your mistress. You had read about Mr. Yip’s criminal career in the newspapers and realised he would be the perfect fall guy. He was a difficult patient which meant he would require a full anaesthetic for the root canal work. You took a knife from Miss Chau’s kitchen and while he was unconscious you placed it in his hand to get his fingerprints on it.”

  The phone was continuing to ring, so Inspector Zhang cancelled the call and put it back into his pocket.

  “But you realised the knife alone might not be enough to convict Mr. Yip, so you decided to increase the stakes. You took a cast of Mr. Yip’s teeth to ensure his new tooth was a perfect fit. I believe you used the cast to make a set of false teeth that matched Mr. Yip’s perfectly. While you were at Miss Chau’s house, you killed her with the knife then used the teeth you had made to bite her arm. Then you faked the break-in and left. I did not ask you if you had an alibi for the night that Miss Chau was murdered but I am sure you do not. At least, not an alibi as good as the one that Mr. Yip has.”

  Dr. Hu’s shoulders slumped. He dropped down onto a sofa like a marionette whose strings had been cut, put his head in his hands and began to sob quietly.

  “It was almost the perfect crime, Dr. Hu. You very nearly got away with it.” Inspector Zhang turned to Sergeant Lee, who was scribbling frantically into her notebook. He had a sly smile on his face and he waited until she looked up from her notebook before speaking. “So tell me, Sergeant Lee, how did it feel to have a case that we could really get our teeth into?” he asked.

  Sergeant Lee smiled, then went back to writing in her notebook, knowing Inspector Zhang was not expecting a reply.

  “Please come with us now, Dr. Hu,” said Inspector Zhang. “Though perhaps you would like the opportunity to change into something more s
uitable for a prison cell.”

  # # #

  Stephen Leather is one of the UK’s most successful thriller writers and is published in more than twenty languages. He was a journalist for more than ten years on newspapers such as The Times, the Daily Mail and the South China Morning Post in Hong Kong. Before that, he was employed as a biochemist for ICI, shovelled limestone in a quarry, worked as a baker, a petrol pump attendant, a barman, and worked for the Inland Revenue. He began writing full time in 1992. His bestsellers have been translated into more than ten languages. He has also written for television shows such as London’s Burning, The Knock and the BBC’s Murder in Mind series, and two of his books, The Stretch and The Bombmaker, were turned into movies. You can find out more from his website at www.stephenleather.com.

  If you enjoyed this Inspector Zhang story, there are four more available – Inspector Zhang Gets His Wish, Inspector Zhang and the Falling Woman, Inspector Zhang and the Dead Thai Gangster, and Inspector Zhang and the Disappearing Drugs.

  And if you enjoy murder mysteries, why not try my novella The Bestseller. The Bestseller is a book about murder, but it’s also an insight into the creative writing process and how ePublishing has changed the rules for ever, creating a world where murder as entertainment might actually pay.

  Would you kill to write a bestseller? Well Adrian Slater says that he’s prepared to do just that – and announces the fact in a creative writing class.

  Lecturer Dudley Grose is convinced that Slater is a psychopath and means what he says. But the Dean of the university doesn’t believe him and neither do the cops.

  But when a student on the course vanishes and her bathroom is awash with blood, the police wonder if Slater has actually carried out his threat, and if the book he’s writing contains the evidence that will put him away. The Bestseller is a fast-paced novella of 53,000 words, about 200 pages, with a shocking twist in the tail.

  You can buy it at the Kindle store in the US at – http://amzn.to/ykrqGf

 

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