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Inspector Zhang and the Disappearing Drugs (a short story)
Inspector Zhang and the Disappearing Drugs (a short story)
Inspector Zhang and the Disappearing Drugs (a short story)
Ebook65 pages47 minutes

Inspector Zhang and the Disappearing Drugs (a short story)

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Inspector Zhang of the SIngapore Police Force is called in to investigate when a consignment of narcotics vanishes from under the eyes of a team of Drugs Squad detectives. It's a locked room mystery that puts Inspector Zhang's detective skills to the test.

LanguageEnglish
Release dateJul 7, 2011
ISBN9781466142138
Inspector Zhang and the Disappearing Drugs (a short story)
Author

Stephen Leather

Stephen Leather is one of the UK’s most successful thriller writers, an eBook and Sunday Times bestseller and author of the critically acclaimed Dan “Spider’ Shepherd series and the Jack Nightingale supernatural detective novels. Before becoming a novelist he was a journalist for more than ten years on newspapers such as The Times, the Daily Mirror, the Glasgow Herald, the Daily Mail and the South China Morning Post in Hong Kong. He is one of the country’s most successful eBook authors and his eBooks have topped the Amazon Kindle charts in the UK and the US. He has sold more than a million eBooks and was voted by The Bookseller magazine as one of the 100 most influential people in the UK publishing world. His bestsellers have been translated into fifteen languages. He has also written for television shows such as London’s Burning, The Knock and the BBC’s Murder in Mind series and two of his books, The Stretch and The Bombmaker, were filmed for TV. You can find out more from his website www.stephenleather.com

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    Inspector Zhang and the Disappearing Drugs (a short story) - Stephen Leather

    INSPECTOR ZHANG AND THE DISAPPEARING DRUGS

    Stephen Leather

    ****

    Published by:

    Stephen Leather at Smashwords

    Copyright (c) 2011 by Stephen Leather

    ****

    All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

    This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

    Smashwords Edition Licence Notes

    This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy.

    ****

    Inspector Zhang smiled fondly at his wife as she placed his kaya toast in front of him. Kaya could be bought in a bottle in any supermarket but Mrs. Zhang made it herself, slow cooking coconut milk, eggs, sugar vanilla and a hint of pandan leaves, using a recipe that had been handed down from her grandmother. She spread it on a slice of wholemeal toast with a little butter and served it with a soft-boiled egg, just the way he liked it. You make the best kaya toast in Singapore, he said.

    You can buy it in McDonald’s these days, she said.

    You can buy many things in McDonald’s but nothing they sell comes close to your cooking, said Inspector Zhang.

    Such sweet talk, she said, blushing prettily and sitting down opposite him. She poured more coffee into his cup.

    Inspector Zhang took a bite out of his toast and sighed with contentment. I would have married you for this toast alone, he said.

    Mrs. Zhang giggled and put her hand over her mouth. She’d done that on the first date, more than thirty years earlier and it was one of the many things he loved about her.

    His mobile phone rang and he sighed. It was in the pocket of his suit jacket, hanging on the back of the sofa.

    I’ll get it, said his wife. You finish your breakfast.

    She went over to the sofa, retrieved his phone, and took the call. She pulled a face and took the phone over to him. It is the Senior Assistant Commissioner, she said. He wants to speak to you.

    Inspector Zhang swallowed and took the phone from her. This is Inspector Zhang, he said.

    Inspector, I am sorry to bother you so early, but I need to see you this morning, said the Senior Assistant Commissioner. Can you come to office at the start of your shift today?

    Of course, Sir, said Inspector Zhang. Can you tell me what it is in connection with?

    It is of a highly confidential nature, Inspector. I shall explain when I see you.

    The line went dead and Inspector Zhang frowned at the phone.

    He sounds different, said Mrs. Zhang. Not like the man we used to know.

    He is Senior Assistant Commissioner now, said Inspector Zhang. He is a very important man.

    He is your friend.

    Mr. Zhang put the phone down next to his plate. We haven’t been friends for a long time, he said.

    I don’t think he remembered me, said Mrs. Zhang.

    It has been a long time since we socialized. More than twenty years.

    Twenty-five, she said. We had a celebratory drink, do you remember, when he was promoted to sergeant.

    Was that twenty-five years ago? mused Inspector Zhang. You know, I think you are right. He looked at his watch, finished his coffee, and picked up his phone.

    Mrs. Zhang helped him on with his jacket, then kissed him on the cheek. "I shall cook you fish head bee hoon tonight," she said.

    You spoil me, said Inspector Zhang, but he was already looking forward to his favourite dish.

    He drove to police headquarters at New Phoenix Park. The block that housed the police was next to a twin block occupied by the Ministry of Home Affairs. The Senior Assistant Commissioner’s office was on the sixth floor, a corner office with a huge desk and a wall full of framed commendations.

    Inspector Zhang had to wait for fifteen minutes on a hard chair until a secretary showed him into the Senior Assistant Commissioner’s office.

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