Chapter Twelve
‘Stop moaning, Melissa,’ Magee muttered as they passed through the doors of the Victoria and Albert Museum in South Kensington. ‘This is worth a try, at least.’
‘I’m sorry, sir,’ Melissa replied with a heavy sigh. ‘It’s just that I detest this place. I came here when I was about eight years old on a school trip from the Wallands. I was bored senseless. I’m really not in to all this cultural and historical claptrap.’
Magee shook his head in despair. ‘Well I hope to prove just how important culture is. These two daggers must mean something to someone, and any lead we can get at this stage would be welcome. We really don’t have much to go on.’
‘Diddley squat, to be precise, sir,’ replied Melissa. She folded her arms as a moody expression descended upon her face.
‘Exactly. Good choice of words,’ Magee mused. He advanced towards an information counter in the centre of the grand entrance hall and caught the eye of a bespectacled middle-aged lady counting out brochures. ‘Excuse me, but we have an appointment with the Curator of the Far East Department, Marcus Comyns, at eleven o’clock. Can you tell me how to get to his office, please?’
The lady peered up at Magee over the brim of her glasses. ‘He’ll have to come down and collect you, sir,’ she said, picking up a phone. ‘Who shall I say it is?’
‘Detective Chief Inspector Magee and Detective Sergeant Kelly.’
Magee stood to one side of the counter and waited patiently for five minutes. Eventually, a tall, elegant but flamboyant man in his late thirties and dressed in a stylish suit, swaggered towards him. Magee took an instant dislike to the man.
‘Good morning, Chief Inspector,’ said Marcus Comyns, extending a limp hand. ‘Do follow me, if you please. We’d better go to my office. Sorry, but it’s quite a walk, this place is simply enormous.’
Magee tutted as the word enormous was accompanied by a ridiculous amount of arm waving. It was a ghastly trait he associated with theatrical, camp comedians, and one that he failed to find remotely humorous. Nevertheless, not wanting to be the root cause of any political incorrectness, he decided to keep his mouth firmly shut until they reached Comyns’ office.
Magee and Melissa were beckoned to sit and then Comyns said, ‘Now then, Chief Inspector, I understand you’ve brought something for me to see.’
Magee handed over two sealed plastic bags. Each contained a blood stained dagger. Comyns looked at the grisly items, grimaced, and placed them carefully on his desk.
‘Fascinating, truly fascinating,’ said Comyns, turning his attention to Magee. ‘I take it these are murder weapons.’
‘Yes, indeed,’ Magee replied. ‘Two separate murders on two separate occasions, but with similarities. I was hoping you might be able to shed some light on these knives.’
Comyns appeared to be perplexed. ‘In what way, Chief Inspector?’
‘Well, I’m trying to understand why a murderer would choose a weapon like this.’
Comyns’ lips skewered to one side momentarily before he asked, ‘As opposed to what?’
‘Well, this is only speculation, but I’m assuming the murders were not random events, that they were, in fact, well planned. That would mean the murderer took this weapon with him to the crime scene. Now, I’m trying to fathom the murderer’s mind. Why did he not use something convenient to hand, like a kitchen knife?’
‘Ah! You mean if the murderer took a knife like this with him, then it must have some significance?’
‘Exactly!’ Magee gave the curator a smile for the first time. ‘I’m after any background information you can give me. Are these knives culturally or historically significant? Are they associated, for instance, with any particular religious rite? Can you think of any reason why they might have been used to murder someone?’
Comyns leant forward and peered into one of the bags. ‘Let’s start with the basics. First, we’ve got ivory handles. Given that there’s a ban on the importation of ivory into this country, that means the knives have either been here a long time already or your murderer smuggled them in recently.’
‘And how easy would it be to smuggle them in to the UK?’
‘Not too hard, especially if you were determined to do it. I would imagine it would be tricky getting them through an airport, what with security the way it is these days. Easier on a ship I expect, as part of a container load, perhaps.’
‘Okay, that makes sense,’ Magee said. ‘What else?’
‘Well, the effigy itself is from Tibet. From the Geluk Order to be precise.’
‘Really?’ Melissa interjected. ‘I thought the association would be with Thailand.’
Comyns broke into a dry smile. ‘An easy mistake to make, my dear sergeant. But no, the Geluk Order is based in Tibet.’
‘I don’t mean to be rude, sir,’ Melissa responded, ‘but are you a hundred per cent sure?’
‘Absolutely sure,’ Comyns said, reaching for a book behind him. He flicked through the pages until he found a photograph of a similar effigy. ‘Here you are. You won’t find that effigy used outside the Geluk Order.’
Magee read the annotation at the foot of the page, and shook his head in bewilderment. ‘I’m not sure this helps us or not.’
‘Were you after a connection to Thailand?’
Magee’s thoughts strayed to Melissa’s comments about Nittaya being half Thai. If Nick Price’s wife had been Thai, then it was probable that he had visited Thailand, or maybe even lived there at some time. ‘Not necessarily,’ he replied unsteadily. ‘However, it might help. Why do you ask, do you know of a connection?’
‘Perhaps,’ Comyns said, barring his teeth. ‘However, you may consider it rather tenuous.’
‘At this stage in our investigation, sir, I’d consider anything.’
‘Well,’ Comyns began, ‘there is one old story I’ve heard, about knives depicting Buddhist images being used in Thailand to murder people.’
‘Really? That sounds promising.’
‘It’s only a story, Chief Inspector, I must warn you of that. There’s no written record, as you’ll soon appreciate. It’s only what I’ve heard myself, whilst researching material for my books.’
‘Go on then, try me.’
‘Well, to set the scene, you’ve got to go back to the Second World War and the Japanese involvement in South East Asia. Are you familiar with that history?’
Magee nodded. ‘I’m fairly au fait with it.’
‘Right, well, apologies for the frankness, sergeant, but as you probably know, during the war, the Japanese soldiers were fond of sex. Unfortunately, that often meant resorting to forced sex. Estimates are that they housed two hundred thousand sex-slaves spread around Korea, China, the Philippines, Indonesia, Taiwan and Thailand.’
Melissa blinked. ‘Dear god!’
‘History, my dear sergeant. It’s sad, but unfortunately true.’
‘It wasn’t my favourite subject at school,’ Melissa responded with a shrug.
‘At the time,’ Comyns continued, ‘the Japanese people had a predisposition to dominate other races. With their soldiers, that meant rape. It was something Japanese High Command was extremely worried about.’
‘Why?’ asked Melissa. ‘I seem to recall they didn’t have much respect for humanity.’
Comyns looked at Melissa in a conspiratorial way. ‘Venereal Disease, that’s why, my dear sergeant. It could have devastated the ranks if they weren't careful. In those days it took months to recover, and months of inactivity for soldiers meant wasted resources. Hence the sex-slaves; they were brought in specially, to encourage the soldiers to keep their hands off local girls. The Army doctors were able to monitor the sex-slaves housed in the camps, but not girls from local villages. The soldiers were told not to have sex with the locals or they would be punished. Punished for risking infection, you understand, not for committing a crime.’
Melissa snorted. ‘Typical men!’
Comyns nodded. ‘It’s just the
way of the world, sergeant, in wartime that is. Anyway, despite the risk of punishment, some soldiers nevertheless strayed. Countless millions of rapes must have occurred in South East Asia during those awful years of occupation.’
Magee gave Melissa a terse scowl. ‘How does Thailand fit in then?’
‘Well, Thailand was in a slightly different situation compared to other countries occupied by the Japanese,’ Comyns continued. ‘The Thai government signed an agreement of accord with Japan. That meant the Japanese soldiers were invited into the country, as opposed to having invaded.’
Magee raised an eyebrow and asked, ‘So the Japanese soldiers were expected to be friendly towards the locals?’
‘Exactly, Chief Inspector. And you don’t expect your friends to commit rape.’
‘But they did, I assume?’
‘Of course they did. And it put both sides under a lot of strain. It was difficult for the Thais to complain, and difficult for the Japanese to admit it was happening.’
‘Let me guess,’ Magee said, ‘the people took the matter into their own hands?’
‘I can see why you’re a detective.’
Magee grimaced. ‘It’s human nature, to want to right a wrong.’
‘You’re certainly right there, Chief Inspector. It wasn’t long before the odd Japanese soldier or two turned up dead with a knife embedded in their chest.’
‘With an effigy of a Buddha carved on the handle?’
‘That’s what I’ve heard. Sometimes, though, it was just an amulet tied around the hilt.’
‘This is just hearsay, though?’
‘I’m afraid so, Chief Inspector. But I did spend a long time in Thailand, during my university years, interviewing the older generation about their war experiences. They would talk openly over a bottle of whisky, but there has never been much written about their war period. Thailand has never been keen on baring its soul. Too many influential people want to protect their reputations.’
‘Let me get this straight,’ Magee interjected. ‘You’re saying that there’s a historical precedence for knives bearing a Buddha effigy being used to kill for revenge in Thailand?’
‘Correct. But only for a limited period, I must stress.’
‘Just for rape, though? What about revenge for other crimes?’
‘That, I can’t help you with, Chief Inspector.’
‘But the knife was left in the body?’
‘Indeed. It served a purpose; it was the most efficient way of letting the Japanese know why the murder had been committed. No Japanese officer would want to pursue a murder if he knew his soldier had raped a local girl. The officer would risk punishment for not keeping his men under control.’
‘Execution following a clandestine trial,’ Magee muttered. ‘Is that what’s going on?’
‘The Avenging Buddha,’ Comyns murmured under his breath.
‘I beg your pardon?’
‘The section title, in my book on Thailand’s war years history. There’re about forty pages on the subject, with transcripts of several interviews. Would you care to borrow it?’
‘Erm, yes, thank you,’ Magee replied, pondering on the likelihood of revenge being the motive for the two recent murders. ‘That’s certainly an apt term of yours.’
‘I suppose we’re more likely to use the expression an eye for an eye,’ Comyns said as he reached behind and extracted another book from a shelf.
Magee accepted the book. ‘Does anything else spring to mind?’
‘No. I don’t think so, Chief Inspector.’
‘Well, thank you for your time, sir. Your information has been very useful. It’s given me direction, if nothing else.’
‘You’re welcome. Glad to be of help.’
‘Now then, if you'll excuse us, we must be going,’ Magee said getting up from his seat. ‘Here’s my card in case you think of anything else later on.’
‘I’d better escort you downstairs.’
Magee thanked the curator as he left the building then turned his attention to Melissa. ‘Come on, let’s get back to Lewes. We’ve got something to work on now. I want you to cross reference Conners' life with Harwood's. Maybe with Nick Price’s and Paul Mansell’s as well. Somewhere on the way, their lives are likely to have crossed paths. Find that, and we should be able to find the killer, or at least a reason for the two murders.’
‘Sounds like countless hours of fun,’ Melissa replied unenthusiastically.
‘You think my job is any better?’ Magee muttered. ‘I’ve yet to speak to the Home Secretary and explain why I let Paul Mansell off the hook for the second time.’