The Ambassador's wife

Munson. That’s why he cleaned up after you at the Marriott and staged the crime scene so that we wouldn’t be able to identify the body until you were back in Washington and your alibi was established. That’s why he arranged to alter the airline’s reservation records to back up your alibi.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“And the loyalty didn’t even stop there, did it, sir? DeSouza murdered Ambassador Rooney just to deflect suspicion from you for Mrs. Munson’s murder. That was why he set up the crime scene in Bangkok to make it look like the same man killed both women.”

“I thought it was generally believed that the same man had killed both women.”

“It certainly looked that way, sir. He fooled me, at least for a while. The two crime scenes were almost identical.”

The ambassador blinked at that and Tay waited him out.

“Almost?” he eventually asked just as Tay knew he would.

“There was only one difference, sir. Only one.”

Tay saw the flash of panic in Munson’s eyes. “And what was that?”

“It was the flashlight, sir.”

“I thought both women had a flashlight pushed up their…” Munson paused, tasting the words for any hidden danger before he used them. “Pushed into them.”

“They did.”

“Then I guess I don’t see what you mean.”

“The first flashlight was pushed into Mrs. Munson lens first, but the second flashlight was pushed into Ambassador Rooney barrel first.”

“Oh, come on-”

“No, sir. If the same man had killed both women, he wouldn’t have made a mistake like that. It would have been important to him to pose both bodies in exactly the same way. That’s what he would have been showing us by it, that the same man was responsible for both murders. To make the two scenes almost the same, but different in one respect, particularly one like that, would just confuse things. If the same man committed both crimes, he wouldn’t have made that kind of mistake.”

“Well, maybe-”

“And there was something else, too.”

“Something else?”

“DeSouza didn’t know where the flashlight at the Marriott had come from. He told me he found it in the bedside table, but it was in the closet. Remember that, sir? It was in the closet.”

The ambassador closed his eyes and allowed that to sink in.

“Motherfucker,” he muttered, his voice barely a whisper.

“Sorry, sir?”

“That’s all very interesting, Inspector,” the ambassador said instead of repeating himself, “but it doesn’t add up to dog shit. You can’t hang a case against me on crap like that.”

“You’re right there, sir. It’s not much. Certainly not enough for a court of law, but then I’m not in a court of law here, am I?”

“And you’re not likely to be. Perhaps you’d been able to make a better case if Tony hadn’t committed suicide, but-”

“Oh, Tony DeSouza didn’t commit suicide, sir.”

“What are you talking about? Of course he did.”

“I was there, sir, at least I was there just before he died. I went to his house to confront him with what I knew and what I suspected. It surprised me, sir, I have to admit that honestly, but he confessed to everything.”

“Confessed?” Tay could hear Munson’s breathing begin to accelerate. “He told you I killed Elizabeth?”

“No, sir. He claimed to me that he killed her, and that he killed Ambassador Rooney after that to deflect attention from Mrs. Munson’s murder. Then he killed Cally Parks because she was close to working it all out.”

“Well…” Munson spread his hands. “There you are.”

“Not really, sir. DeSouza did kill Susan Rooney and Cally Parks all right, and I think he killed both of them pretty much for the reasons he told me he killed them. But he was lying about Mrs. Munson. He was protecting you.”

“And what makes you so sure of that?”

“Because DeSouza told us later he was lying. That you killed Mrs. Munson and then called him to clean up your mess.”

“Us?”

“I left DeSouza that night with a colleague of yours. They had their own conversation after I had gone, and your colleague told me DeSouza gave you up with barely a whimper.”

“A colleague of mine? What the hell are you talking about, Tay?”

“Does the name John August mean anything to you?”

“No,” the ambassador shook his head, “it doesn’t.”

“That’s odd. He certainly knows you. As a matter of fact…” Tay made a show of looking around the lounge, “he’s on the same flight to London that you are today, sir.”

Tay pointed over the ambassador’s shoulder. “There he is. Right behind you.”

Munson turned and looked where Tay was pointing. When he turned back, all the blood had drained from his face.

“Maybe you know him by a different name than I do,” Tay said. “That doesn’t surprise me. But whatever name you know him by, you obviously know who he is.”

“What do you want from me, Tay?”

“Nothing, sir.”

“Look, when I get back to Singapore, we’ll sort all this out. We’ll come to some kind of arrangement. You’re wrong about me.”

“I don’t think I am, sir. But it doesn’t really matter.” Tay tilted his head toward John August. “You won’t be coming back to Singapore.”

The ambassador twitched visibly and Tay saw his jaw working.

“You’re bluffing,” he said.

“It’s funny you should say that, sir. Really funny. That’s exactly what Tony DeSouza said to me. As a matter of fact, it was just about the last thing he ever said to anybody.”

Tay pointed at the big clock on the wall of the lounge.

“You’d better get going, Ambassador. You’ve got a bit of a walk to your gate. You wouldn’t want to miss that plane.”

The ambassador sat absolutely still. He stared straight ahead and said nothing at all.

“Good-bye, sir.”

Inspector Samuel Tay stood up and walked out of the lounge without a backward glance. He was looking forward to the rest of the weekend already.