THE GIRL IN THE WINDOW (The Inspector Samuel Tay Novels Book 4) (36 page)

In his two decades in the Criminal Investigation Department of the Singapore Police Force, Tay had seen enough dead bodies to last him several lifetimes: bodies broken in stairwells and bodies dumped in alleys; bodies battered by cricket bats and bodies crushed with tire irons; bodies opened with gaping knife wounds and bodies flattened by cinder blocks; bodies beaten into raw meat with golf clubs and bodies ripped into unidentifiable shreds by dogs; bodies in bed with their hands neatly folded and bodies in the harbor with crabs crawling out of them. Tay had stared at all kinds of dead bodies and he could remember each and every one of them with a clarity verging on the pornographic.

Murders in Singapore weren’t the romanticized duels between clever killers and plodding investigators that ended up as Michael Douglas movies. They were mostly sad and sordid events perpetrated by people who had lost money, lost a job, lost a spouse, lost hope. When Tay entered the places where desperation had taken control of people and turned them into killers, he could feel their sadness and despair pressing down on him. It was as real and palpable as a shroud.

Was he just getting old or was the carnage getting worse? When Tay first began investigating murders, he assumed he was dealing with people who were more or less like the people policemen had always dealt with, but he wasn’t so sure of that anymore. More and more these days, Tay found himself thinking that the truth of it was really quite simple: we are worse people now than we were twenty years ago, and every year we get even worse.

Tay didn’t want to believe that, he really didn’t, but so help him God, at the bottom of whatever passed for his soul these days, he was certain it was true.

“HERE WE ARE, sir,” Sergeant Kang said when the elevator doors opened.

“What’s the room number?”

Before Kang could answer, a blue-uniformed patrolman appeared from somewhere. “I’m sorry, sir, but this floor is closed to all—”

Tay lifted his right hand, palm outward. “CID-SIS. I’m Inspector Tay and this is Sergeant Kang.”

“Yes, sir. Could I see your—”

“What room, Robbie?” Tay asked again, cutting off the patrolman.

“2608, sir.”

Tay strode off down the corridor and Sergeant Kang pulled his plastic-coated warrant card from his back pocket and draped the chain around his neck. The patrolman barely glanced at it. Instead, he shot a look toward where Tay had already disappeared.

“He’s okay,” Kang said. “He’s just having one of his twitchy days.”

“If you say so, sir.”

The Marriott has only sixteen guest rooms on each floor. All of them face the outside of the tower while a wide corridor carpeted in wine red and bordered with brown-and-white marble traces the building’s octagonal shape around the core where the three passenger elevators and the service elevator are located. The corridor itself is entirely white. White walls, white doors, white ceiling. Lighted by a soft glow from the wall sconces spaced evenly along both sides, the whole effect is tranquil to the point of being spooky.

There were four men outside the door to room 2608. Three wore dark suits and were arrayed in a sort of arc facing the doorway, in front of which the fourth, a uniformed patrolman, stood with his arms folded. The grouping made Tay think of a tiny band of Christmas carolers waiting for a choirmaster to lead them in song.

“I’m Inspector Tay,” he announced when he got to where the men were standing. “And this is Sergeant Kang.”

“Oh, thank Christ. I’m Bill Barwell. I’m the general manager.

Tay examined the man who had spoken and registered both his American accent and the chummy way he had introduced himself. Was anyone actually named Bill? That was just a nickname for William, wasn’t it?

“This is Mike Evans, my Executive Assistant Manager,” Barwell continued, indicating the man on his left, “and my other colleague is Ramesh Keshar, our Chief of Security.”

Tay glanced at Evans, whose short hair and well-scrubbed face unmistakably marked him as another American. So far, Tay thought, this had all the makings of an authentically crappy day. First the stupid building, and now all these Americans.

Tay didn’t dislike Americans. Not as such. Not really. Some of his best friends…well, no, it wouldn’t be true to say that. Tay had to admit that there were a number of things he admired about Americans. Their self-assurance, their boldness, their generosity, their even-handedness, their easy manner, their willingness to take risks. Most of all, he admired their sense of absolute certainty that the world would step aside and make room for them wherever they went merely because they were Americans.

Neither any of those character traits nor that kind of self-confidence were commonly found in the Singaporean temperament so Tay’s experience in dealing with people like that was limited. Actually, to be entirely honest, Samuel Tay didn’t really understand the first thing about people like that. He supposed that was why Americans made him uneasy. They scratched him where he didn’t itch.

Tay ignored both Barwell and Evans and looked at the security man.

“You’re a local hire?” Tay asked him.

“Yes, sir, I am,” Keshar said. “Singaporean born and bred.”

Tay nodded at that. At least there was one person he could talk to here who wasn’t an American.

Sergeant Kang took out a notebook and turned to Barwell. “Did you discover the body?”

“Me? Oh, good Lord, no. Not me.”

“Then who was it, sir?”

“Someone from housekeeping, as I understand it.” The manager flicked his eyes to Keshar. “Is that right, Ramesh?”

“Yes, sir. She was running her regular room checks. When she found the body, she called me and I came right up.”

“Where is the maid now?” Tay asked Keshar.

“She’s a housekeeping supervisor,” the manager interrupted. “Not a maid.”

Tay kept his eyes on the security man and waited.

“Downstairs in my office,” the security man eventually replied when he saw that Tay intended to ignore the general manager until he did. “The poor woman is hysterical. I left her with my secretary.”

“Where did this…” Tay shot a quick glance at the manager, “housekeeping supervisor telephone you from?”

“Probably the service area. I’m not really sure. She certainly wouldn’t have stayed in there to call.” Keshar inclined his head toward the door to 2608 and Tay noticed he looked away from it when he did.

“You’ve been inside the room?” Tay asked.

“Just long enough to verify what the housekeeping supervisor told me. No longer than I had to.”

Tay finally shifted his eyes back to the manager. “You, sir?”

“No, no.” The man shook his head quickly and his pale skin seemed to grow even paler. “Jesus Christ, no. Not me.”

Tay found himself enjoying the manager’s discomfort and kept his eyes on him until the man glanced away. Only then did Tay turn his attention back to Keshar.

“What did you do when you went into the room?”

“I just rang the…it’s actually a one-bedroom suite, Inspector. Not an ordinary room. I rang the bell several times. When there was no answer, I let myself in with my security card.”

“And you could see the deceased from the doorway?”

“No, sir. She’s in the bedroom.”

“How could you be sure the woman was deceased? Did you check for vital signs?”

“There isn’t any doubt she’s dead, Inspector. Go in and see for yourself.” Keshar clamped his mouth shut and seemed to struggle for control.

“What did you do after you confirmed the presence of the deceased?”

“I got out of there, you can bet. I made sure the door was locked, then I went downstairs to Mr. Barwell’s office.”

“You didn’t just call him?”

“No, I went right down to his office. I guess I could have telephoned from somewhere, but that just didn’t seem like the right thing to do.”

“I called the police as soon as Ramesh told me about this, Inspector,” the manager cut in. “We waited for the officers at the concierge desk and then brought them directly up here.”

Tay continued ignoring the manager. “Who is the room registered to?” he asked the security man.

“They haven’t told you?”

“Told me what?”

“About the room. The registration.”

“No.”

“Ah, I see.” The security man hesitated, cleared his throat unnecessarily, and then he plunged ahead quickly. “There is none.”

“You’re saying you’ve lost the registration information for this room?”

“No, that wouldn’t be possible. I mean the suite isn’t registered to anyone. This suite is empty.”

Tay glanced toward the door to room 2608. “Apparently not.”

“Yes,” the security man nodded. “Apparently not.”

“When was it last occupied? At least as far as you know.”

“Not for some time. A week or so?” The security man glanced at the manager, who nodded. “Something like that. I can get you the exact date.”

“And the name and address of the last occupant.”

“Yes, Inspector, of course.”

Tay pursed his lips and thought for a moment while everyone waited in respectful silence.

“Sergeant, put patrolmen at all the lifts. The stairs, too. No one except our people on this floor until I tell you otherwise.”

“Inspector,” the manager spoke up, “there are nine guests staying on this level and they will have to—”

“Yes, we’ll need a list of them along with all their registration information. Also a list of everyone else who has checked out but may have stayed on this floor any time within the past week.”

“Naturally, Inspector. But as for the guests who are on this floor now—”

“You’ll have to make other arrangements for them. Sergeant Kang will get a patrolman to accompany each of them back into their rooms to retrieve their personal belongings as soon as possible.”

“I see.”

The manager didn’t see, of course, but he was smart enough to recognize there was no point in arguing with Tay.

“Thank you, gentlemen,” Tay said. “If you will wait downstairs in your offices, either Sergeant Kang or I will be down shortly to talk to you further.”

Keshar looked for a moment as if he was about to say something else, but then he merely nodded. The manager, however, was less reticent.

“I am completely at your service, Inspector, as are all the members of my staff,” he said in his most sincere voice. “This is a terrible thing. Terrible. And we want to do everything we can to help you bring whoever did this horrible thing to justice. Of course, at the same time, we naturally would prefer that the hotel’s involvement in this unpleasantness be kept to the absolute minimum and we hope you will do your best to help us to accomplish that end.”

Tay hardly thought it worth the effort to point out that a hotel with a murdered woman lying in a presumably unoccupied suite was about as involved in unpleasantness as it was ever going to get. Instead, he just held out his hand to Keshar.

“May I have your passkey, please?”

“Of course, Inspector.”

The security man fished a plastic card out of his pocket and handed it to Tay, who turned it over several times and examined it with evident curiosity.

“We have electronic locks rather than mechanical ones, Inspector. The way they work is—”

“I know how they work,” Tay interrupted. “I’m a policeman, not an idiot.”

Keshar looked embarrassed. “I didn’t mean…”

Tay waved him into silence and turned to the patrolman standing in the room’s doorway.

“Take these men downstairs, Officer. Then stay with the maid who found the body until either Sergeant Kang or I come down to interview her. Make certain she doesn’t talk to anyone until then.”

“Yes, sir.” The patrolman saluted and spread his arms as if to herd the three men away.

“Now wait, Inspector.” The manager stood his ground for a moment. “I really do think we ought—”

“Thank you for your cooperation, sir. Someone will talk with you downstairs. Please return to your office now.”

The manager puffed out his cheeks and bounced on his toes for a moment. He looked as if he might be about to say something else, but then he just gave a little shrug and allowed the patrolman to shoo him away along with the other two men.

Sergeant Kang followed them to the elevators and watched until the door closed; then he organized the other patrolmen on the scene to seal off the floor. When he returned to 2608, Tay was standing in the corridor exactly where Kang had left him. Kang would have sworn that Tay had never moved a muscle the whole time he was gone, and perhaps he hadn’t.

“Right, sir. The floor is closed off. Anything else?”

Tay took a deep breath and tugged at his right earlobe. He said nothing.

The Forensic Management Branch would have been dispatched by now, Kang knew. Perhaps their van full of equipment was even in the driveway twenty-six floors below.

“Do you want to go in now, sir, or wait for FMB?”

When Tay still said nothing, Sergeant Kang shifted his weight from one foot to another and waited. The silence stretched on with no end in sight and eventually Kang spoke again.

“I think, sir, that we might—”

“I don’t give a shit what you think, Sergeant,” Tay snapped. Almost as soon as the words were out Tay wiped an open hand across his face and sighed heavily.

“I’m sorry, Robbie.”

“It’s all right, sir.”

“No, it’s not. I’m sorry. Really.”

“Not to worry, sir.”

“Is the boss here yet?”

“Not yet, sir. But I’m sure he will be shortly.”

Tay nodded several times, apparently more to himself than to Kang, then rubbed absentmindedly at his face again.

“Okay, Sergeant,” he said after a few moments of silence. “Let’s find out what we’ve got.”

“Right, sir.”

Tay slid the security man’s card into the slot in the lock with two fingers, taking care not to touch the mechanism. A tiny light above the slot switched from red to green and there was an audible click. Using only the knuckles of his left hand, Tay pushed at the door to 2608.

It swung open without a sound.

TAY’S FIRST IMPRESSION, however incongruous it might have seemed when he thought about it later, was of the view. It was dazzling.