with waist-length black hair wearing a tight white mini dress cut low to reveal large breasts. She was holding Wilkinson’s hand and laughing at something he had said.
'Freeze that please,' said Inspector Zhang as Wilkinson and the girl reached the door to the suite.
Mercier did as he was told and Inspector Zhang peered at the screen. He recognised the woman. 'Ah, the lovely Ms. Lulu,' said Inspector Zhang.
'You know her?'
'She is an escort for one of the city’s more expensive agencies and when she isn’t escorting she can be found in one of the bars in Orchard Towers looking for customers.' The woman was wearing impossibly high heels but she barely reached Wilkinson’s shoulder.
'The Four Floors of Whores?' said Mercier. 'She’s a prostitute?'
'Come now, Mr. Mercier, as head of security in a five-star hotel you must surely have your share of nocturnal visitors,' said Inspector Zhang.
'We have a policy of not allowing visitors in guests' rooms after midnight,' said Mercier primly.
'And I’m sure that your guests adhere to that policy,' said Inspector Zhang. He looked at the time code on the video. 'Ms. Lulu is from Thailand, though she travels to Singapore using a variety of names. Now, from the time code we can see that Mr. Wilkinson and Ms. Lulu arrived at eight thirty. Can you now please advance the video until the time she left the room?'
Mercier tapped a key and the video began to fast-forward. Guests moved back and forth up and down the corridor, hotel staff whizzed by, but the door stayed resolutely closed. Then at nine thirty on the dot the door opened and Ms. Lulu slipped out. Mercier slowed the video to real time and they watched as she tottered down the corridor in her stiletto heels.
'So we can assume that Mr. Wilkinson paid her for one hour,' said Inspector Zhang. 'Now, when did Mr. Wilkinson order room service?'
'I’m not sure,' said Mercier. 'We will have to talk to the waiter.'
'Then please fast-forward until the waiter arrives with the trolley.'
Mercier did as he was told. At five minutes before ten the waiter appeared in the corridor, pushing a trolley. He knocked on the door, then knocked again.
'What is the hotel policy if the guest does not open his door?' asked Inspector Zhang.
'If the 'Do Not Disturb' sign is on then the member of staff will phone through to the room. If it isn’t then it’s acceptable to use their key.'
The waiter knocked again, then used his key card to open the door. Inspector Zhang made a note of the time. It was nine-fifty eight.
'And at what time did the waiter call down to reception to say that he had found Mr. Wilkinson dead on the bed?'
'Just before ten,' said Mercier. 'You’ll have to ask Miss Berghuis. She’ll know for sure.'
They watched the screen. After a minute or so the waiter appeared at the doorway. He stood there, shaking, his arms folded, then he paced back and forth across the corridor. The time code showed 10.03 when Miss Berghuis appeared, followed by her staff. They hurried into the room.
Mercier pressed a button to freeze the screen and pointed at the time code. 'Three minutes past ten,' he said. 'No one went in or out of the room except for Mr. Wilkinson and his guest. His guest left at nine-thirty and the next time he was seen, he was dead.'
Inspector Zhang nodded thoughtfully as he put away his notebook. 'So, please, let us go back to the room. I have seen everything that I need to see.'
They went back to the sixth floor. Two uniformed police officers had arrived and were standing guard at the door to the suite. They nodded and moved aside to allow the inspector and Mercier inside.
Sergeant Lee was scribbling in her notebook and she looked up as Inspector Zhang walked into the room. 'I have everyone’s details, Sir,' she said.
'Excellent,' said the inspector, striding towards the bedroom. 'Come with me please, Sergeant Lee. Everyone else please remain where you are. I shall return shortly.'
Sergeant Lee followed the inspector into the bedroom and he closed the door behind them and then looked at her, barely able to control his excitement. 'Do you know what we have here, Sergeant Lee?'
The Sergeant looked at the body on the bed. 'A murder, sir?'
Inspector Zhang sighed. 'Oh, it’s much more than that, Sergeant. What we have here is a locked room mystery.'
The Sergeant shrugged, but didn’t say anything.
'Do you know how long I’ve waited for a locked room mystery, Sergeant Lee?'
She shrugged again. 'No, Sir.'
'My whole life,' said Inspector Zhang, answering his own question. 'We have no unsolved murders in Singapore, and precious few mysteries.' He sighed. 'At times like this I wish I had a deerstalker hat and a pipe.'
'Smoking isn’t permitted in public buildings, Inspector,' said Sergeant Lee.
'I know that,' said Inspector Zhang. 'I’m simply saying that a pipe would add to the effect, as would a faithful bloodhound, tugging at its leash.'
'And hotels in Singapore do not allow pets, Sir,' said Sergeant Lee.
Inspector Zhang sighed mournfully. 'You’re missing the point,' he said. 'The point is that that we have a dead body in a room that was locked from the inside. A room that no one entered during the time that the victim was murdered. Sergeant Lee, we have a mystery that needs to be solved.'
'Shall I notify the forensics department, inspector?' asked Sergeant Lee.
'Forensics?' repeated Inspector Zhang. 'Have you no soul, Sergeant Lee? This is not a mystery to be solved by science.' He tapped the side of his head. 'Zis is a matter for ze little grey cells.' It wasn’t a great Poirot impression, but Inspector Zhang thought it satisfactory. Sergeant Lee just found it confusing and she frowned like a baby about to burst into tears. 'Let me look around first, then we’ll decide whether or not we need forensics,' added Inspector Zhang, in his normal voice.
'Sir, that is not procedure,' said Sergeant Lee.
'Indeed it is not, but we shall inform them in due course. However, I would first like to examine the crime scene.' He turned to look at the body. 'So what do we have?' mused Inspector Zhang. 'We have a dead body on a bed. We have a wound, but no weapon. We have a room that was locked from the inside. We have sealed windows and no way in and out other than through a door into a corridor that is constantly monitored by CCTV.' He shivered. 'Oh, Sergeant Lee, do you not appreciate the beauty of this situation?'
'A man is dead, Inspector Zhang.'
'Yes, exactly. He is dead and somewhere there is a killer and it is up to me to find that killer.' He looked over her and smiled like a benevolent uncle. 'For us to solve,' he said, correcting himself. 'You will be Watson to my Holmes, Lewis to my Morse.'
'Robin to your Batman?' suggested Sergeant Lee.
Inspector Zhang peered at her through his thick-lensed spectacles as he tried to work out if she was mocking him, but she was smiling without guile and so he nodded slowly. 'Yes, perhaps,' he said. 'But without the masks and capes. You know that Batman made his first appearance in Detective Comics way back in 1939?'
'I didn’t know that,' said the Sergeant, scribbling in her notebook.
'And that he is sometimes referred to as the World's Greatest Detective, which I always considered to be hyperbole.'
Sergeant Lee continued to scribble in her notebook. 'What are you writing, Sergeant Lee?' he asked.
She blushed. 'Nothing,' she said, and put her notebook away.
Inspector Zhang nodded slowly and walked slowly around the room. 'I assume you are not familiar with the work of John Dickson Carr?' he said.
Sergeant Lee shook her head.
'He was a great American writer who wrote dozens of detective stories and most of them were locked room mysteries. He created a hero called Dr. Gideon Fell, and it was Dr. Fell who solved the crimes.'
Sergeant Lee tapped the side of her head. 'By using ze little grey cells,' she said, in a halfway passable French accent.
