The Eight Curious Cases of Inspector Zhang (15 page)

He had just reached the letters page when a man in a white coat walked into reception. He was in his early forties, short and with a pair of gold-rimmed spectacles perched on the end of his nose. He nodded curtly at Inspector Zhang and walked over. “I am Dr. Hu,” he said. “You wanted to speak to me?” He had a mobile phone in a leather holster on his right hip.

Inspector Zhang got to his feet and fished out his warrant card. He showed it to Dr. Hu. “I am Inspector Zhang of the Singapore Police Force, and this is my colleague, Sergeant Lee.” Sergeant Lee showed her warrant card, but stood slightly behind Inspector Zhang as if she was trying to keep him between her and the dentist. “I would like to ask you some questions about your patient, Mr. Yip.”

“Ah yes, the burglar,” said Dr. Hu. “How did the dental records I sent compare with the bite?”

“You weren't told?” asked Inspector Zhang.

Dr. Hu shook his head. “I was just asked to supply Mr. Yip's dental records so a comparison could be made,” he said.

“And you were told about the case?”

“Just that there had been a murder and that Mr. Yip was a suspect.” He smiled. “It was a very unusual occurrence,” he said. “Like something off a TV show.”

“No, it is very real,” said Inspector Zhang. There was a young couple sitting close by who were obviously listening to the conversation. “Is there somewhere private we can talk?”

“I have a meeting room we can use,” said Dr. Hu. He took them along the corridor and opened a door. It was a small room with a polished teak table and four plastic chairs. Dr. Hu ushered them in, closed the door, and they all sat down. Dr. Hu looked at his watch. “I have a patient waiting,” he said. “I hope this won't take too long.”

“We just have a few questions, Dr. Hu. Mr. Yip's dental records were up to date, were they?”

“In what sense?”

“The records you supplied matched the bite marks on a murder victim. So I need to know if those records are an accurate depiction of his teeth.”

“Of course they are.”

“When was the last time you treated Mr. Yip?”

“A month ago. Well, we started treatment a month ago and we finished two weeks ago. The last X-rays were taken then. “

“What treatment did Mr. Yip need?”

“He had a rotten molar,” said Dr. Hu. “He needed root canal work and then I fitted a crown.”

“His teeth are not in good condition?”

Dr. Hu shook his head. “Too much sugar,” he said. “And an ineffective brushing technique. He will need more crowns in the future, I'm sure.” He scratched his chin. “Though I suppose if he is sent to prison, I won't be able to continue as his dentist, will I?”

“I think the prisons have their own medical staff,” said Inspector Zhang. “What sort of patient was he?”

“A very nervous one,” said Dr. Hu. “I had to give him nitrous oxide while I did the root canal. Some patients can manage with an injection, but Mr. Yip has a thing about injections.” He smiled thinly. “Which is ironic considering he stabbed a young woman to death.”

“Indeed,” said Inspector Zhang. “Now can you tell me where the records were kept?”

“In the reception area, in filing cabinets. They are also fully computerised. The files in the cabinets are more of a back-up, these days.”

“So were the detectives who called given an actual file or a computer file?”

“A computer file,” said Dr. Hu. “They were supplied on a thumb drive.”

Inspector Zhang nodded thoughtfully. “Is it possible the records could have been tampered with?”

Dr. Hu frowned. “I'm not sure I understand what you mean, Inspector.”

“I need to know if there is any way the records you supplied were not in fact the records of Mr. Yip. Is that possible?”

“I don't see how.”

“Could someone have gained access to your computer and changed Mr. Yip's records?”

“Absolutely not.”

“You seem very sure, Dr. Hu.”

The dentist nodded. “I am. The only person who is able to access the records on the computer is myself. And it is password protected.”

“So your staff cannot access the records?”

“They can access them. They can read the files and look at the X-rays and photographs but they cannot make any changes. Only I can do that. As I just said, the files are password protected.” He interlinked his fingers and leaned forward. “Is something wrong, Inspector? I assumed the case was – what do you call it – open and shut?”

“It has become somewhat complicated,” said Inspector Zhang.

“In what way?”

“I'm afraid I'm not at liberty to divulge any details of the case,” said Inspector Zhang.

“But Mr. Yip did kill that girl, didn't he?”

“That is what we are trying to ascertain,” said Inspector Zhang. He stood up. “There is no need for us to take up any more of your time,” he said.

“I am more than happy to help the police in any way I can,” said Dr. Hu. He stood up and held out his hand. Inspector Zhang looked at the hand for several seconds, and then shook it.

“Do you validate?” asked Sergeant Lee.

“Validate?” asked Dr. Hu.

Sergeant Lee held out her car parking ticket. “We parked downstairs,” she said.

“My receptionist can handle that for you,” said Dr. Hu. “I am afraid I do have a patient waiting.”

The receptionist stamped Sergeant Lee's car park receipt that allowed them to park the car free of charge. They went downstairs. “What do we do now, sir?” asked Sergeant Lee as they walked towards her car.

“What you think we should do, Sergeant?”

“I still think we should be looking for a twin brother,” said Sergeant Lee. “That is the only explanation.”

“Then you should follow up that line of inquiry.”

“I have already put in a call to the Registry of Births and Deaths.”

“Excellent,” said Inspector Zhang. “But now I think we need to speak with the officer who arrested Mr. Yip.”

“Really?”

“Really,” said Inspector Zhang. “It seems to me the crucial question we need answered is whether or not Mr. Yip wanted to be arrested that night.”

The sergeant frowned, opened her mouth to ask a question, then changed her mind.

The police constable who had arrested Mr. Yip was a Tamil in his early thirties, dark-skinned with a thick moustache. He was slightly overweight and made a soft wheezing sound when he breathed out through his nose. Inspector Zhang and Sergeant Lee arranged to meet him on his beat, standing outside an HDB public housing block. “I'm sorry to take you away from your work, Constable Ravi,” said Inspector Zhang. “I just need to ask you a few questions about your arrest of Mr. Yip on Sunday night.”

“Is there a problem, Inspector?” asked Constable Ravi. “Has he made a complaint?”

“Not at all, Constable. So far as I am aware, everything about the arrest was as it should have been.”

Constable Ravi 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 Ravi 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 at 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 that 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 and Sergeant Lee 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.