Inspector Zhang and the Disappearing Drugs by Stephen Leather Page B
Authors: Stephen Leather
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out."
The Senior Assistant Commissioner sighed. "It wasn't the first time that the customer had taken delivery of boxes in a container from Thailand," he said. "They were in fact a regular customer. But the customer never actually met anyone from the import-export company. All charges were paid for in Thailand, by a company that apparently does not exist. Or at least does not exist now. The shipping costs were paid in full from Thailand along with instructions of what to do with the consignment. Basically the boxes were to be taken to a delivery address and left there."
He walked around his chair, sat down, and poured himself a glass of water from a bottle. He didn't offer any to Inspector Zhang, and slowly sipped some before continuing.
"The delivery address was never the same, but it was always an apartment in a block in the Geylang area. The delivery men would take the boxes to the apartment and would find a key under the mat outside the door. They would unlock the door, place the boxes in the apartment, then relock the door, put the key back under the mat, and leave. They had apparently done that four times over the past year. The consignment we found was the fifth."
He took another sip of water.
"So, Inspector Kwok liaised with the delivery company and obtained the address from them. She then arranged for our technical department to install CCTV cameras in the hallway of the apartment building and for human surveillance outside the building. Her team then monitored the delivery of the drugs and watched on CCTV as the delivery men went inside the apartment, delivered the boxes, and then left. The men arrived at the apartment, retrieved the key, and took the boxes inside. A few minutes later they left, locked the door, and put the key back under the mat. Inspector Kwok and her team then settled down to wait for the drugs to be collected." He sighed. "Seven days they waited. Round-the-clock surveillance, three teams of four. I personally signed off on the budget."
The Senior Assistant Commissioner picked up a pen and tapped it on the desk. "On the seventh day she called me and said that she thought something had gone wrong, that perhaps the criminals had discovered that the apartment was under surveillance. I gave her permission to abort the operation and to enter the apartment." He put down the pen and interlinked his fingers. "Inspector Kwok did so and discovered that the drugs had vanished. The apartment was empty." He sighed again. "So you see, Inspector Zhang, we have a mystery. I believe it is what crime writers call a closed room mystery."
"A locked room mystery, yes," said Inspector Zhang. "It is a staple of crime fiction."
"And I gather that you are something of an expert in the field," said the Senior Assistant Commissioner.
"Hardly an expert, Sir," said Inspector Zhang, feeling his cheeks redden at the compliment.
"There's no need for modesty, Inspector," said the Senior Assistant Commissioner. "Everyone knows of your success in solving the murder of the American businessman found in his locked hotel room. I need you to apply your expertise to this case. I need you to find the missing drugs and apprehend the criminals."
"I should be most happy to assist," said Inspector Zhang.
"I have asked Inspector Kwok to meet with you at the apartment," said the Senior Assistant Commissioner. "Hopefully you will be able to cast some light on the situation." He handed Inspector Zhang a piece of paper on which was written an address in Geylang.
"I shall certainly do my best," said Inspector Zhang.
The Senior Assistant Commissioner leaned back in his chair. "Answer me a question," he said.
"If I can."
"Why are you still an inspector? Why did you never move through the ranks. You were one of the cleverest at the Academy. Everyone said that you were destined for great things within the force."
Inspector Zhang shrugged. "I am happy being a detective," he said. "I am not a good manager. And I am
The Senior Assistant Commissioner sighed. "It wasn't the first time that the customer had taken delivery of boxes in a container from Thailand," he said. "They were in fact a regular customer. But the customer never actually met anyone from the import-export company. All charges were paid for in Thailand, by a company that apparently does not exist. Or at least does not exist now. The shipping costs were paid in full from Thailand along with instructions of what to do with the consignment. Basically the boxes were to be taken to a delivery address and left there."
He walked around his chair, sat down, and poured himself a glass of water from a bottle. He didn't offer any to Inspector Zhang, and slowly sipped some before continuing.
"The delivery address was never the same, but it was always an apartment in a block in the Geylang area. The delivery men would take the boxes to the apartment and would find a key under the mat outside the door. They would unlock the door, place the boxes in the apartment, then relock the door, put the key back under the mat, and leave. They had apparently done that four times over the past year. The consignment we found was the fifth."
He took another sip of water.
"So, Inspector Kwok liaised with the delivery company and obtained the address from them. She then arranged for our technical department to install CCTV cameras in the hallway of the apartment building and for human surveillance outside the building. Her team then monitored the delivery of the drugs and watched on CCTV as the delivery men went inside the apartment, delivered the boxes, and then left. The men arrived at the apartment, retrieved the key, and took the boxes inside. A few minutes later they left, locked the door, and put the key back under the mat. Inspector Kwok and her team then settled down to wait for the drugs to be collected." He sighed. "Seven days they waited. Round-the-clock surveillance, three teams of four. I personally signed off on the budget."
The Senior Assistant Commissioner picked up a pen and tapped it on the desk. "On the seventh day she called me and said that she thought something had gone wrong, that perhaps the criminals had discovered that the apartment was under surveillance. I gave her permission to abort the operation and to enter the apartment." He put down the pen and interlinked his fingers. "Inspector Kwok did so and discovered that the drugs had vanished. The apartment was empty." He sighed again. "So you see, Inspector Zhang, we have a mystery. I believe it is what crime writers call a closed room mystery."
"A locked room mystery, yes," said Inspector Zhang. "It is a staple of crime fiction."
"And I gather that you are something of an expert in the field," said the Senior Assistant Commissioner.
"Hardly an expert, Sir," said Inspector Zhang, feeling his cheeks redden at the compliment.
"There's no need for modesty, Inspector," said the Senior Assistant Commissioner. "Everyone knows of your success in solving the murder of the American businessman found in his locked hotel room. I need you to apply your expertise to this case. I need you to find the missing drugs and apprehend the criminals."
"I should be most happy to assist," said Inspector Zhang.
"I have asked Inspector Kwok to meet with you at the apartment," said the Senior Assistant Commissioner. "Hopefully you will be able to cast some light on the situation." He handed Inspector Zhang a piece of paper on which was written an address in Geylang.
"I shall certainly do my best," said Inspector Zhang.
The Senior Assistant Commissioner leaned back in his chair. "Answer me a question," he said.
"If I can."
"Why are you still an inspector? Why did you never move through the ranks. You were one of the cleverest at the Academy. Everyone said that you were destined for great things within the force."
Inspector Zhang shrugged. "I am happy being a detective," he said. "I am not a good manager. And I am
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