manager took the two detectives through to a large bedroom. The curtains were drawn and the lights were on. Lying on the king-size bed with his feet hanging over the edge was a naked man. It was a Westerner, Inspector Zhang realised immediately, a big man with a mountainous stomach and a pool of blood that had soaked into the sheet around his head.
"Peter Wilkinson," said Miss Berghuis. "He is an American, and one of our VIP guests. He stays at our hotel once a month. He owns a company which distributes plastic products in the United States and stays in Singapore en route to his factories in China."
Inspector Zhang leant over the bed and peered at the body, nodding thoughtfully. He could see a puncture wound just under the chin and the chest was covered with blood. "One wound," he said. "It appears to have ruptured a vein but not the carotid artery or there would have been much more blood spurting." He looked across at the sergeant. "Carotid blood spray is very distinctive," he said. "I think in this case we have venous bleeding. He would have taken a minute or so to bleed to death, whereas if the artery had been severed death would have been almost instantaneous."
The sergeant nodded and scribbled in her notebook.
"Note the blood over the chest," continued the inspector. "That could have only happened if he was upright so we can therefore deduce that he was standing up when he was stabbed and that he then fell or was pushed back onto the bed." He walked around to look at the bedside table. On it was a wallet and a gold Rolex watch. Inspector Zhang took a ballpoint pen from his inside pocket and used it to flip open the wallet. Inside was a thick wad of notes and half a dozen credit cards, all gold or platinum. "I think we can safely rule out robbery as a motive," he said.
Sergeant Lee scribbled in her notebook.
Inspector Zhang walked back into the sitting room. Miss Berghuis and Sergeant Lee followed him.
"So, what time did you discover the body?" Inspector Zhang asked the waiter.
"About ten o’clock," said the manager, before the waiter could answer. "Mr. Chau called down to reception and we came straight up."
"By we, you mean the front desk staff?"
"Myself, Mr. Mercier, Mr. Ramanan and Miss Xue."
Ramanan and Xue nodded at the inspector but said nothing. Miss Xue looked over at the bedroom door fearfully, as if she expected the dead man to appear at any moment.
Inspector Zhang nodded thoughtfully. "The corridor is covered by CCTV, of course?"
"Of course," said the manager.
"Then I would first like to review the recording," said the inspector.
"Mr. Mercier can take you down to our security room," said Miss Berghuis.
"Excellent," said Inspector Zhang. He looked across at his sergeant. "Sergeant Lee, if you would stay here and take the details of everyone in the room, I will be back shortly. Make sure that nobody leaves and that the crime scene is not disturbed."
"Shall I call in Forensics, Inspector Zhang?" asked the sergeant.
"Later, Sergeant Lee. First things first."
Inspector Zhang and Mercier left the suite and went down in the elevator to the ground floor. Mercier took the inspector behind the front desk and into a small windowless room where there was a desk with a large computer monitor. On the wall behind the desk were another three large monitors each showing the views from twenty different cameras around the hotel.
Mercier sat down and his expensively-manicured fingers played over the keyboard. A view of the corridor on the sixth floor filled the main screen. "What time do you want to look at?" asked Mercier.
"Do we know what time Mr. Wilkinson went to his room?" asked the inspector.
"About half past eight, I think," said Mercier.
"Start at eight twenty and run it on fast forward if that's possible," said Inspector Zhang.
Mercier tapped on the keyboard. The time code at the bottom of the screen showed 8.20 and then the seconds flicked by quickly. The elevator doors opened and a big
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