CHAPTER 42
Police officer, Mohamad Bin Salleh returned to his desk, sat down and pointed at Eddie. “Professor Higgins. Please,” he said and beckoned to Eddie to move from where he was sitting with Isobel to the chair opposite him. As he adjusted his spectacles and looked over them at Eddie, Eddie’s bare, white knees began jigging up and down uncontrollably.
“It’s…” he checked a note he’d brought with him. “It’s phenyl…phenylcyclidine. Sometimes called Angel Dust. It’s a prohibited hallucinogenic drug.”
Eddie nodded. He was not entirely surprised and it explained everything, not least his own psychotic episode. He was grateful he’d not taken an even bigger sniff of the powder. Eddie looked behind at Isobel. She was sat upright, straight-backed with her legs crossed, her bags on the floor as if ready to go. She shrugged.
“What is this investigation you are involved in?” Mohamad Bin Salleh asked somewhat crossly.
Eddie put his glasses on. “For me, it started with evidence of tampering with raw materials being exported to Vital Cosmetics.” He paused, took a deep breath and leaned back. It was obvious the man needed more. “I am worried that if I say more it will impede our investigations here in Malaysia and in Thailand,” he added.
Mohamad Bin Salleh leaned forward. “How would it – what you say? – impede?”
“It would impede the gathering of evidence. It is a critical time. If I mention where I found that bottle you might find it necessary to search the premises and that could cause the whole illegal operation to be dismantled, the criminals to disperse and never be caught.” He then thought of another clever thing to say. “Someone will have to take the blame for ruining an international criminal investigation.”
Eddie still doubted this was enough. The officer stared at him. He clearly wasn’t happy but kept his impatience in check by flipping a pencil between his fingers. Then he looked at Isobel. “Miss Johnson. What have you to say?”
That was a mistake. Isobel leaned forward, then stood up.
The notetaker, hearing her chair move, turned and took a long look at her from her neat, black hair and shiny red lips right down to her high-heeled shoes. Then he worked his way back up to her face. When his boss glanced at him. he returned to his computer. He hadn’t given Eddie such a prolonged look but perhaps he thought Eddie was just one of those quaint old English safari types who sometimes arrived in socks, boots and khaki shorts.
“Sir,” Isobel said. “Professor Higgins is a highly respected Oxford university scientist, a biologist, who visits Malaysia and Thailand regularly for research purposes. He is also my company’s scientific adviser and has unwittingly found himself investigating serious criminal activity. When he joined us, he uncovered many problems and has since become involved in a private investigation that neither the police in the UK or Malaysia or Thailand will do anything about until we provide more evidence. There are, right now, two others in our team in Malaysia who are helping us with the investigation. There are others working in Bangkok and an office co-ordinating matters in London. It is quite likely we have uncovered evidence not just of serious drug smuggling but money laundering, counterfeiting and probably other things that are going on undetected right under the noses of the Royal Malaysian Police. Do you understand?”
Whether it was the forceful manner of her explanation or the appearance of the tough, no nonsense professional woman in the immaculate suit, white shirt and shiny black high heels that stood before him and then walked menacingly in his direction, but Assistant Superintendent Mohamad Bin Salleh sat back. Isobel, unblinking, stared at him and went on:
“So, let us not waste any more time. What do you intend to do with professor Higgins? Arrest him or co-operate with us?”
“I see,” Mohamad Bin Salleh said rather defeatedly. “One moment.”
He left the room once again. The shoulders of his notetaker moved up and down as if he was finding it funny, but his eyes never left the screen until his boss departed. Then he stood, went outside, returned with two bottles of chilled water, handed them to Eddie and Isobel and then continued to tap away on his keyboard without saying a word.
On the road to Johor Bahru, Jeffrey had stopped the car and, while Pascale listened in, called a contact in the Malaysian Police and, without giving details, briefly outlined the Asher & Asher investigation. He was assured something would be passed upwards. Now with nothing more to be done, he continued the drive south with Pascale following in the path of Peter Lester.
It was another half hour before Mohamad Bin Salleh returned. He first repeated his routine. He went behind his desk, swung his seat around, sat down and put on his spectacles but, this time, he didn’t point at Eddie. Instead he invited both Eddie and Isobel to slide their chairs forward to his desk. Then he leaned forward with his hands together on the desk.
“The matter has been taken out of my hands,” he said. “The Deputy Commissioner has asked the Director of the Commercial Crimes Investigation Department, Datuk Abdul Rahim bin Hassan to intervene. Your passports will be retained and you will remain in KL until the matter is resolved. I have been asked to organise hotel accommodation close by.”
Isobel leaned forward. “Does that apply to both of us? Had I not remained behind with Professor Higgins I could have been in Bangkok by now. Am I allowed to speak to a lawyer? Or the British Embassy, perhaps? And where is my luggage?”
“I will check.”
At four in the afternoon, Colin Asher called Mark Dobson. “Lester’s phone is still blocked but I don’t think we should leave it too long. Any thoughts?”
“Unblock it,” Dobson said. “He must be nearing JB by now. But listen in for any calls to and from Malacca – namely, Roman Kolodin.”
Twenty minutes later Asher called again. “You were right. Kolodin just phoned Lester. Here’s the recording:
Kolodin: ‘Yah. Peter. It’s Roman. Why no phone?’
Lester: “What? I’m driving. Near JB.”
Kolodin: “This guy Aldo Adani called. You know him?”
Lester: “Called you?”
Kolodin: “Yah. He came here after you left.”
There was a short silence. “Came there? What the fuck…?”
Kolodin: “Yah, he says you saw him this morning, so he called here.”
There was a pause with indecipherable words that sounded like panic as if Lester had stopped the car. Then: “I didn’t tell him where I was going. I only spoke to him for ten minutes. He called at the hotel before I left. An Italian guy.”
Kolodin: “Yah, Italian. He says he want samples, see factory.”
Lester: “Bloody hell. Did he go in?”
Kolodin: “Sure, sure. He says you said OK. He not stay so long. Now gone. Two hour ago. Your phone not work.”
Lester: “Of course, it bloody well works. I used it just after I left you to call Andre in JB. He told me Enzo had arrived. “
Kolodin: “But I hear message you not able to take call.”
Colin Asher stopped the recording. “There’s not much after that. Lester doesn’t know his phone is being tapped but they know something’s going on. Meanwhile, he’s on the move again on the outskirts of JB. We need to go careful. We don’t want Pascale coming face to face with Lester or, indeed, Enzo.”