“Then you will be hearing from my lawyer,” snapped the American.
“I shall look forward to it,” said Inspector Zhang. “But in the meantime I have an investigation that requires my undivided attention.” He walked away, leaving the American fuming.
Captain Kumar and Sergeant Lee were waiting expectantly by the exit door. “The victim was a Thai gangster,” Inspector Zhang said quietly. “He had a lot of enemies.”
“That explains the bodyguard,” whispered Sergeant Lee. The bodyguard was sitting only a few feet away, reading an in-flight magazine.
“According to the journalist, he spoke to Mr. Srisai about half an hour before the plane landed. So he must have been killed in the time between talking to the journalist and the flight attendant checking that his seat belt was fastened.”
“That couldn’t have been much more than fifteen minutes,” said Captain Kumar, rubbing his chin. He put a hand on Inspector Zhang’s shoulder. “I think I should assist my first officer with the paperwork, if that is okay with you.”
“Of course, Captain.”
“And nobody heard anything?” Inspector Zhang asked Sergeant Lee as Captain Kumar went into the cockpit and closed the door behind him.
“Nothing,” she said.
Inspector Zhang frowned. “So how can this be, Sergeant Lee? How can a man die of a gunshot wound in an aeroplane cabin without anyone hearing anything?”
“A silencer, sir?”
Inspector Zhang nodded thoughtfully. “Actually the technical term is suppressor, rather than silencer. And while they do deaden the sound of a gun it would certainly still be loud enough to hear in a confined space such as this.”
“Not if everyone was listening through headphones,” said the Sergeant.
“A good point, Sergeant.” He turned to nod at the passenger in 17D. “But Mr. Yates did not use his headphones; they are still in their sealed plastic bag, so I assume that he was working throughout the flight. Other than the bodyguard, he would have been the closest passenger to the victim. And even if a suppressor was used, we have to ask ourselves how it and the gun were smuggled on board. As you said, there are stringent security screenings at the airport.”
“Maybe it was a member of the crew,” said the Sergeant. She lowered her voice to a whisper. “What about the captain, Sir? He could have a gun in the cockpit. Or the first officer? Or a member of the cabin crew? Mr. Yip perhaps.”
“I had considered the cabin crew, but again it comes down to the fact that the bodyguard did not see Mr. Srisai being attacked.”
“Perhaps the bodyguard was not as alert as he claims. He could have been asleep.” Sergeant Lee’s eyes widened. “The gun,” she said. “The gun must still be on the plane.”
“One would assume so,” said Inspector Zhang.
“We could ask the Thai police to help us find it. They must have dogs that can sniff out guns and explosives at the airport, don’t you think?”
“I’m sure they have, but my instructions are to bring the investigation to a conclusion without the involvement of the Royal Thai police.”
Sergeant Lee looked crestfallen and Inspector Zhang felt a twinge of guilt at having to dampen her enthusiasm.
“But your idea is a good one, Sergeant Lee,” he said. “If there was a gun on the plane, such a dog would be able to find it. But do you know what, Sergeant? I do not believe that the gun is on the plane.”
Sergeant Lee frowned as she brushed a lock of hair behind her ear. “So do you now wish to interview the bodyguard?”
“I think I will first talk to Mr. Yates,” said Inspector Zhang. He walked down the aisle and stood next to the Westerner, who looked up quizzically from his Blackberry. “Mr. Yates?”
Mr. Yates nodded. “What can I do for you?”
Inspector Zhang pointed at the empty seat. “Do you mind if I sit down and ask you a few questions?”
“Of course, no problem,” said Mr. Yates, making room for the Inspector to squeeze by. He put away his Blackberry. “Do you have any idea how long this is going to take, Inspector?” he asked. “I have a meeting to get to.”
“I hope not too much longer,” said Inspector Zhang as he sat down. “So you are British?”
“Yes, but I haven’t been to England for more than fifteen years,” said Mr. Yates. “I lived in Hong Kong for a while but I’ve been based in Bangkok for almost ten years.”
“I am a big fan of English writers. Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. Agatha Christie, Dorothy L Sayers, Edgar Wallace.”
“I’m not a big reader,” said Mr. Yates. “Never have been.”
Inspector Zhang’s face fell, but he managed to cover his discomfort by removing his spectacles and polishing them with his handkerchief. “So, my Sergeant asked you if you saw or heard anything unusual during the flight?”
“I was working,” said Mr. Yates.
“So you didn’t hear a shot, for instance?”
“A shot? A gunshot? Of course not?” He frowned. “Is that what happened, the guy over there was shot?”
“It appears so, yes.”
“That’s impossible.”
“Yes, I agree. During the flight did you see anyone go over to Mr. Srisai?”
“Who?”
“I’m sorry,” said Inspector Zhang. “That is the deceased’s name. He is a Thai gentleman. Did you see anyone talking to him during the flight?”
“To be honest I was busy,” said Mr. Yates. “I hardly looked up. But there was a Thai man talking to him not long before we landed. They were arguing, I think.” He twisted around in his seat and pointed at Mr. Nakprakone. “That guy back there.”
“Arguing?”
“There was a flash, I think the man might have taken a photograph, but really I wasn’t paying attention.” He smiled. “I’m putting together a proposal for a client and it has to be done by close of business today.”
“You are a stockbroker?” He put his spectacles back on.
“That’s right.”
“Have you heard of Mr. Srisai? I gather he is active politically in Thailand.”
Mr. Yates shook his head. “I’m more concerned about profit and loss accounts and dividend payments than I am with politics,” he said. “The Thai political situation is so messed up that I don’t think anyone really understands what’s going on. It would make our lives much easier if Thailand was run more like Singapore.”
Inspector Zhang nodded in agreement. “I sometimes think that the whole world would be better of if it was run like Singapore,” he said.
“So he was a VIP, was he?”
“Apparently.”
“That explains the run-in with security he had at Changi, then. Thai VIPs expect kid gloves treatment wherever they go.”
“What happened?” asked Inspector Zhang.
“I don’t know, really. He was behind me at the security check and the arch thing beeped when he went through. They wanted to search him but he was arguing.”
“Arguing about what?”
“I’ve no idea. I just collected my briefcase and walked away. But he was shouting about something or other.”
Inspector Zhang thanked him and then stood up and rejoined Sergeant Lee at the front of the cabin. “Is everything okay, Sir?” she asked.
