GODDESSBLESSYOUFROMDEATH, Case File 10: The Twisting Tiger Head
After sending the found money to Lieutenant Khem with instructions to deliver it to the deceased’s family according to procedure, the young inspector brought the troublesome kid to the interrogation room as ordered. Now, Singha was watching Thup being interrogated by the head of the investigation team.
“I’ve read your file and the previous interrogation report, but if I ask again, there shouldn’t be any problem, right?”
“Yes.”
“Ah, even if there was a problem, there’s nothing to be done anyway. It seems like Inspector Singha is negligent in his duty by letting a murder suspect roam freely.”
“Phii Singha’s not negligent!” Thup immediately interjected, causing King to stare at him with a fiercer look.
“Phii? You’re that close, huh?”
“N-no.”
Singha, who was in the observation room, muttered a curse under his breath, making Lieutenant Prom, who was with him, unable to retreat.
“How much longer is this going to drag on?”
“Should I go in and tell them, Inspector?”
“No need.”
“But will the Inspector release the kid, since there’s no evidence to hold him?”
Singha didn’t respond. Indeed, without clear evidence, they would have to release Thup from the station, but this kid had volunteered to stay with him. It was actually good; they could observe his behavior and keep him detained.
“This kid volunteered to help us with the case.”
“Huh? How so?”
“He has information about the case that might be useful.” Singha watched the interrogation through the one-way glass, not taking his eyes off, even when he was the one asking questions. This kid was trembling, not to mention King, whose nature and mouth were like a hunting dog. The kid definitely couldn’t keep up.
“Doing freelance work and other things, right?” Then he probably has enough time for this.
“I have a lot of client work, both online and framed art. If by ‘other things,’ you mean going out to commit crimes, then no.”
“Heh, good at answering, huh? Got a good coach, I bet.” King glanced sideways, knowing full well Singha was listening in, “In the first interrogation report, it says you were at the scene before the police arrived. What made you go there? And if you choose to give the same answer, I’ll have to throw you in the cell.”
Thup knew if he answered like he did with Singha, the man in front of him wouldn’t give him the chance to prove his truth as Singha did. But lying would be difficult for him.
“I… I think I’ve seen a corpse in that condition before.”
“Seen it before? You mean the murder from five years ago?”
“No, it happened before that.”
“Seems like you know it well, like you did it yourself.”
“I know it might be hard to believe, but according to what you’ve seen… according to what Inspector Singha has gathered as evidence, it should be enough to confirm that I didn’t go anywhere before that. The autopsy results also show when each victim died, and more importantly, I’m willing to come and help Inspector Singha solve this case. I’m not hoping for anything else.”
Singha looked into Thup’s serious eyes before turning to the cold face of King. Neither of them continued to argue. They just stared at each other, that’s all.
“Tell Lieutenant Khem too. If he gets all the search warrants sorted, have him call me.”
“Understood, Inspector.” Singha smirked before walking into the interrogation room.
“Good timing, Singha.” King greeted as he saw the newcomer enter.
“You can interrogate this kid as many times as you want, with the same results, so just read the file. Thup, get up.” Thup obeyed easily.
“I’m not done yet, you can’t take the suspect anywhere.”
“This kid is just a suspect. Not a defendant, I still need his statement and if you check the CCTV footage, the autopsy results, and the forensic condo’s statement. If you’re still suspicious, I’ll bring him back for more questioning.”
“Then he has to be detained here.” King stepped in front of Singha, his eyes showing displeasure.
“Detained? Maybe you’re too used to using your father’s power. What evidence do you have to hold him? It’s almost forty-eight hours now.”
“Just by looking at his behavior and initial statements, it’s clear.”
“How about this?” Singha approached and flicked King’s pristine black suit jacket without holding back, smiling at the corner of his mouth, “I’m the inspector here, this is my station. If you’re not happy… go ahead and complain to your dad.” King was pushed hard, staggering away from the door. He only glanced back before walking out of the room, with Thup quickly following.
The two walked out to Singha’s car, then drove straight back to the young inspector’s home without stopping.
“Will I cause you trouble with your friend, sir?”
“What trouble?”
“Trouble both with work… and your friend.”
“It’s according to the law that they can detain you for no more than forty-eight hours without evidence that you’ve committed a crime. As for the friend issue, well, he doesn’t even come close to that word.” The feeling of
Thup nodded understandingly, but even after hearing that, he was suggesting that there must be something more between the two than what Singha was admitting.
When they arrived at Singha’s house, Thup excitedly carried his bags out of the car. He had never slept over at a friend’s house or anywhere else besides the temple, his condo, or where he was now. He never knew how fun it was to stay over at someone else’s house like in the movies.
As Thup’s foot crossed the threshold, he felt a chilling cold before it turned into a gentle, soothing breeze.
“You said to yourself that you could sleep on the sofa.” The voice of the older guy brought Thup back to reality. The young man looked around the house and realized it wasn’t what he expected at all; it was messier than he thought from the brief glimpses he had before, which was just a small part of the house.
One side of the dining table was filled with various documents, while the other side was cluttered with instant noodle cups and ready-made rice boxes. The sink was full of glasses and plates, beer cans were scattered haphazardly around the corners of the house, but certainly, there were papers almost everywhere, no matter where you looked.
“That’s the kitchen, over there is the bathroom, and you are absolutely not allowed to go upstairs. Down here, you can do whatever you want, eat whatever you want in the kitchen, get it?” Thup nodded so vigorously his hair bobbed.
“I’m going to sleep.”
Thup watched Singha’s back as he walked up the stairs until he was out of sight. He sighed with relief before he started to tidy up, moving papers from the gray L-shaped fabric sofa to the coffee table. The young man surveyed the interior of the house; it didn’t make him feel anxious or agitated. It was cool and gave a sense of calm that he couldn’t find elsewhere. After another look around the house, he pulled out a white short-sleeved T-shirt and went into the bathroom to change. He had said he would make himself useful, so the first thing Thup decided to do was to clean the house for his older brother.
A pair of beautiful hands collect various pieces of trash into a black bag, gather all the documents and arrange them neatly on the table, trying to grasp the content and organize them into orderly groups. Beer cans are flattened underfoot before being placed in a separate trash bag. Plates and bowls in the sink are washed until they sparkle. The broom and mop are put to use, transforming the once cluttered house back into a clean and spacious place. Thup opens the fridge to put a bottle of water inside, but his jaw drops when he sees that apart from water, beer, and frozen food, there’s nothing else. He wonders how the older man manages to live.
Once everything is in order, Thup flops onto the clean floor, leaning back against the sofa. He twists slightly to relieve his muscles after nearly an hour of hard work. But then, the sound of footsteps coming down the stairs startles him, and he quickly sits up in a meditative pose.
“Cleaning up?”
“Yes… sir.”
Singha shrugs before walking over to the dining table. He looks at the documents, neatly organized by case. Mostly, he brings home unfinished work. Even when cases are closed, they tend to pile up until the end of the month when he deals with them all at once. And although he should have dealt with these by now, the current murder case is giving him a headache, leaving him no time to manage the house.
“Here’s a pillow and blanket. If it’s hot, turn on the fan or the AC.”
“Phii?”
“What?” Singha looks at the young man who stands up to receive the pillow and blanket with sparkling eyes.
“Are you hungry? I can cook, you know.” Singha folds his arms and leans against the table to get a better look at Thup. If he wasn’t dizzy from the case driving him crazy, he could swear he sees Thup with perky ears and a wagging tail.
“No, I’m going upstairs to work. Don’t make noise.” Singha who was about to go upstairs but stopped. “Actually, I have a question.”
“Yes?”
“You said you saw the ghost of a woman who looked like the victim from the murder case twenty years ago, right?”
“Yes.”
“Do you remember what she looked like?”
“Yes, I got it.”
“Draw it for me, please.”
“Draw her, sir?”
“Yeah, and do you have any relatives or acquaintances back home?”
“I have no relatives left.” Thup said with a sorrowful tone. “But I know an uncle; he was the temple’s caretaker when the old abbot was still alive.”
“Do you have a way to contact him?”
“Yes.” Singha handed his phone to Thup. His slender hand reached out first, typed something, then handed it back to the older man. “His name is Somak. He’s not the caretaker anymore. He’s almost seventy now.”
“Hmm.”
“Want some coffee? I can make coffee too.” Singha glanced at Thup again.
“Better spend your time thinking about where you lost that necklace, so you can stop bugging me.” Singha said, then walked upstairs again, leaving the young man looking forlorn before he returned to sit alone on the sofa.
“What will I do if I can’t find it?” Thup muttered to himself in the quiet room.
Singha entered his office next to his bedroom, filled with photos, notes, and string webs for investigation. He tried to find connections in all the cases, but it was the same old stories. The young man sat at his desk, reading through the summary report again. He was quite sure this case might not have started fifteen years ago after all. And the culprit they caught might be a scapegoat. Suddenly, the phone on the desk rang, breaking the silence. Seeing the name on the screen, he picked up without hesitation.
“Hello.”
[Hello, Inspector Singha, regarding the matter you submitted, we’ve completed the review. You can come in tomorrow.]
“Thank you very much.”
[But it might be a bit difficult to talk, you know, even if a family comes to visit, the prisoner doesn’t talk to people.]
“No problem. I think I can get him to talk.”
[…Okay, then tomorrow, when you arrive, give me a call.]
“Yes.” Tomorrow we’ll finally find out if the criminal they said they caught is the real deal. His phone rang again. This time, it was Singha who picked up the call from an unknown number, put the phone to his ear, and thought, ‘Is this guy for real or just a scapegoat?’ started reading the document.
“Hello.”
[Speak nicely to me, won’t you?]
“What a waste of time.” Singha rolled his eyes at the caller.
[If you hang up, you’ll miss important news.] Just as he was about to hang up, King interjected.
“Get to the point, I’m busy.”
[Busy or just don’t want to talk?]
“Don’t want to talk.” The straightforward answer made the other end laugh throatily.
[Where did you put that kid?]
“None of your business.”
[Singha!]
Singha warned when the tone got too familiar, “Are you sure you want to use that tone with me?”
The voice on the other side sounded like he was commanding a subordinate.
[I’m here to help because I want to atone for the previous case.]
“No need. You’re more of a nuisance than before. Look at the mess you’ve made, with the first search warrant issued.” Singha didn’t pay much attention to the caller as he was focusing on the crime scene photos.
[If I didn’t do this, would we even be talking?]
“No, and even if you didn’t, we still wouldn’t. Are we done here?”
[Where’s that kid, Singha?]
“At my house.”
[You let him stay at your home?]
“So what?”
[Are you sure about letting him stay at home?]
“Didn’t think about it.” Singha gets up to turn on his computer, then clicks to view an image file from the evidence storage. He zooms in repeatedly to inspect a suspicious object. While waiting for the image to sharpen, a sigh from the other end of the call catches his attention.
[There’s a safe house, why not consider it?]
“Who do you think you are, King?”
[Someone you’ve been in bed with before.]
“And?”
[Singha!]
“If that’s all you’ve got to say, don’t call. You’re wasting my time.”
[You are wasting time with that killer kid, huh?]
Singha rolls his eyes in annoyance. He chooses to hang up because what he found on the screen is far more important. Thup was right; there really is a doll. He opens a website and types “broken head doll” into the search bar. Not long after, images of roughly shaped human-like clay dolls appear on the screen. His sharp eyes carefully read every word.
Siakabal Doll: These are fired clay dolls shaped as both men and women, often crafted crudely since they’re made for spirits. The word “Kabal” comes from the Khmer language meaning head. So, you often see dolls like this with broken heads or necks. According to superstition, people make these dolls when in pain or to ward off bad luck, as if deceiving spirits and past enemies. They use the doll as a substitute for a living person, offering it as a sacrifice. These dolls are commonly seen with banana leaf trays and offerings at crossroads or floating in rivers.
When Singha finished reading, he compared the photos of the dolls from the internet and from the crime scene.
“It’s not the same… they’re not the same.” he muttered with a serious face, “The doll at the crime scene… its head was turned backwards.
A tiger’s head… the doll at the crime scene had a tiger’s head.
Singha’s eyes glanced at his phone screen, which lit up again, and the message there made him lean on the table and sigh wearily, ‘Someone has intruded the crime scene.’
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