Inspector Singh Investigates: A Most Peculiar Malaysian Murder

By Shamini Flint

Meet Inspector Singh: a fat, slightly bumbling, but truly lovable detective sure to charm readers of The No.1 Ladies Detective Agency

Inspector Singh is in a bad mood. He's been sent from his home in Singapore to Kuala Lumpur to solve a murder that has him stumped. Chelsea Liew—the famous Singaporean model—is on death row for the murder of her ex-husband. She swears she didn't do it, he thinks she didn't do it, but no matter how hard he tries to get to the bottom of things, he still arrives back at the same place—that Chelsea's husband was shot at point blank range, and that Chelsea had the best motivation to pull the trigger: he was taking her kids away from her. Now Inspector Singh must pull out all the stops to crack a crime that could potentially free a beautiful and innocent woman and reunite a mother with her children. There's just one problem—the Malaysian police refuse to play ball.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Macmillan Publishers
• Release date: Jul 6, 2010
• ISBN: 9781429904230

Shamini Flint

SHAMINI FLINT is a Cambridge graduate and was a lawyer with various UK firms, including Linklaters, for ten years, travelling extensively in Asia during that period, before giving up her practice to concentrate on writing. She is the author of the Inspector Singh Investigates series, including A Most Peculiar Malaysian Murder and A Bali Conspiracy Most Foul, published by Minotaur/Thomas Dunne Books.

Book preview

One

The accused, Chelsea Liew, was in court. She sat on a wooden bench in a wooden box, handcuffed to a police woman.

The prosecutor, a large, shiny Malay man, marking time until his own elevation to the Bench, watched the court official read out the charge in a slow, ponderous voice, ‘That you, Chelsea Liew, on or about the eighteenth day of July, committed murder by causing the death of Alan Lee.’

The judge said, ‘How does the accused plead? Guilty or not guilty?’

The shrivelled old man with large, yellow, herbivorous teeth and a thick head of implausibly black hair managed to inject a wealth of disbelief into the possibility of a not guilty plea. Many of the judges in Malaysia were drawn from the civil service, which meant they had previously been public prosecutors themselves. Their instincts were conservative and their sympathies rarely with the accused in criminal trials.

Chelsea’s lawyer, a tall, thin Indian man with a large Adam’s apple bobbing above his white, winged collar, struggled for diplomatic words that would not involve criticising any party for whom the judge had sympathy – basically, everyone except his client. ‘My Lord, the evidence is circumstantial. The police and prosecution have rushed to judgement because this is a high profile case. The charges should be dismissed outright.’

Teeth were exposed in a parody of a smile. The judge, hunched over his elevated table, black gown bunched about his shoulders, looked more like a vulture than a member of the Bench. He said, ‘Guilty or not guilty?’

The lawyer recognised a lost cause. He stole a quick nervous glance at the woman in the dock. At last the accused muttered, ‘Not guilty.’ Her lawyer sighed with relief.

The judge rapped his gavel. ‘Accused to be remanded in custody until trial dates fixed.’

Her defence lawyer made one last attempt to assist his client. ‘My lord, this is an unusual case involving a mother of three. Although bail is not usually granted where the charge is murder . . .’

He was interrupted. ‘Application for bail denied!’

The judge stood and the lawyers, members of the public in the gallery and court staff rose hastily to their feet. No one was permitted to sit in the august presence of the law. Even, thought the lawyer angrily, if it was personified by an incompetent, semi-senile old man with a stunted sense of justice. Gown billowing, the judge walked out – his work done for the day.

Chelsea’s lawyer slumped back into his chair, shoulders bowed. The prosecution team looked pleased. Only the accused did not react. Her anger and emotion had been spent long before her marriage had culminated in the murder of her husband. She stared at the ground between her feet. When a policewoman took her arm and led her out, she went without resisting.

Inspector Singh was wedged into a small plastic seat at Changi Airport. Hunched up, his belly compressed his lungs. His fleshy, sweaty knees were pressed together chastely to avoid inadvertent brushes with the people on either side. Inspector Singh had a strong dislike of physical contact with strangers. Unfortunately, his girth made it difficult for him not to encroach onto their seats. His shirt was wilting and his shirt pocket, full of pens, was tearing slightly at the corner. Patches of damp were visible under his armpits and just above his belly. Only his white sneakers looked as fresh as when he had put them on before setting out for the office – blissfully unaware that he was about to be assigned to the case that he had, only that morning, been reading about in the newspapers. He remembered feeling sorry for the policeman who had the dismal task of finding the murderer of Alan Lee. He felt much sorrier now that he knew it was himself.

Inspector Singh was waiting for a flight to Kuala Lumpur. He sighed, a breathy, wheezy sound; a heavy smoker, his breathing always sounded strained. He needed a cigarette but smoking was prohibited indoors and pretty much everywhere else in Singapore. He wondered whether he dared nip outside for a fag. As much as he viewed his assignment in Malaysia with trepidation, he did not want to miss his queue number. Singh knew he would not be on the case if he was not the unofficial ‘most likely to be forced into early retirement’ entry in the Singapore police yearbook. He sighed again, causing his neighbour, a middle-aged white woman, to glance at him surreptitiously. Singh knew what she was thinking. A dark man in a turban who seemed worried and preoccupied? She was hoping not to be on the same flight as him. Singh had neither the patience nor the inclination to explain to her that the six metres of cloth that he had wound around his head expertly that morning into a black, pointy turban reflected his heritage as a Sikh. It did not indicate terrorist proclivities and neither, for that matter, did anyone else’s turban.

Singh felt his need for a cigarette sharpen. To hell with it. He would have to risk missing his flight. He felt in his trouser pocket for the reassuring rectangle of his cigarette packet and hauled himself with difficulty out of his seat. He wiped his forehead along the band of his turban with the back of his hand. It itched when he was hot.

He lumbered towards the exit and was brought up short by the sound of raised voices. He looked around with mild curiosity. It did not take him long to identify the source and cause of the altercation. Two men squaring-off. One white, the other Chinese. On the First Class carpet. It seemed that they had converged on the desk at the same moment and were now disputing right of way.

Singh really didn’t feel like interfering. He took a step towards the exit and then glanced back. He saw the long-suffering expressions on the faces of those queuing up to fly ‘cattle’ class and made up his mind. He moved silently towards the men, his sneakers muffling his approach. Not that they would have heard him anyway. They were so engrossed in shouting each other down. The white man was beefy and red-necked, his nose a mosaic of broken veins. The Chinese man was slim and fit, wearing the yuppie uniform of polo shirt and chinos, his expensive matching luggage in a heap by his side.

Singh walked up to the men standing almost toe to toe, placed a fat-fingered hand on each man’s chest and shoved. They parted like the Red Sea. The white man tripped over the edge of the deep blue First Class carpet and barely avoided falling over. He said angrily, ‘Who the hell do you think you are?’

The Chinese man nodded to second the question, his face contorted with rage. Singh was amused to see this united front between the erstwhile combatants.

He smiled pleasantly and said, ‘Inspector Singh, Singapore Police Force.’

Both men looked disbelieving. Singh didn’t blame them. He was an overweight, sweaty, hairy, unconvincing example of a policeman.

He asked, ‘So what’s this about?’

‘He took my place in the queue!’

‘No! He cut in front of me.’

The pretty woman behind the check-in counter rolled her eyes at Singh.

Singh looked at the two men, one eyebrow raised thoughtfully.

Then he turned his back abruptly on them and walked over to the Economy queue. He counted out the first ten and beckoned to them imperiously. The passengers looked doubtful but succumbed to Singh’s air of authority and followed him. He gestured to the First Class check-in and they lined up quietly, one tiny woman in a saree saying sheepishly, ‘But I only have an economy ticket.’

‘Not to worry, madam,’ said Singh politely.

He turned to the two men, ‘You two – at the back of this line.’

‘What do you mean?’ blustered the Caucasian.

‘You heard me, get in line here.’

‘Behind all these people?’

‘Yup.’

‘You can’t do that!’ It was the Chinese man.

‘I’ve just done it . . .’

‘I’ll have your badge for this!’ he stammered angrily.

Singh grinned, suddenly happy. He said, ‘There’s a long queue for that too!’

He waddled back towards his seat, ticket stub between clammy fingers. There was no time left for a cigarette. But it had been worth it.

Forty-five minutes later he was on the plane, sitting next to an elderly Malay man wearing a white shift, open sandals and a neat, white, round turban on his head. The Malay man grinned at Singh as he sat down, baring sparse, long teeth clinging to red, receding gums. But after a brief inquiry had elicited that his companion was Singaporean, the older man lost interest and slumped back in his chair.

The plane juddered and Singh looked nervously out of the window. He could see the coastline of Peninsular Malaysia. Singapore, a small island separated from the Malaysian mainland by a thin strip of water, the Straits of Johor, and connected by two bridges, had disappeared from view.

He forced his mind back to the matter at hand – the reason for this unexpected trip to Malaysia. He had the file in his briefcase but he did not take it out. There was no privacy on board the aircraft to be reading the details. Besides, he knew the skimpy facts by heart. It was the depth of passion running beneath the surface that had occupied the newspapers in Malaysia and Singapore for the last couple of weeks and promised to make the case a nightmare. Inspector Singh’s superiors had decided that the poisoned chalice would be his. From their point of view it was a splendid choice. If he managed to find a way through the thicket of politics overwhelming the case, they would claim the credit. If he failed, they would hang him out to dry, pleased to get rid of one of the last mavericks in the Singapore police. His was not an organisation that appreciated instinct over method, results over means, footwork over paperwork. He was the elephant in the room that no one talked about but everyone hoped would do the decent thing and take early retirement. As he had not done it so far, he was on a small plane, enduring a bumpy flight, to a town up in arms.

Inspector Singh was quite convinced there was absolutely no possibility of a successful resolution to the case he had just been handed. There never was when religion trumped rational behaviour and politics influenced police work. Malaysia and Singapore were both former British colonies, once part of the same country but now two suspicious and independent neighbours. For both countries, every act of state by the other was potentially a threat or an insult. The tabloid press and politicians in both countries were competing for airtime by issuing the most inflammatory statements. There was talk of ‘unwarranted interference in domestic affairs’ by Malaysian officials. Singapore officialdom had adopted a superior tone about ‘justice being seen to be done’.

And yet, thought Inspector Singh, the historical and family ties that bound the two nations together were stronger than the disputes that divided them. But that just exacerbated every disagreement between the countries. Between Malaysia and Singapore, there was none of the polite distance and formal dispute resolution of strangers – every difference of opinion was a family feud. And there were all too many opinions being vented in newspapers and online about his new case.

The plane came in to land over undulating hills covered in neat grids of oil palm. Singh caught a glimpse of the Formula One racetrack – yet another project by the previous government to drag Malaysia onto the world stage. Mahathir, the previous prime minister, was convinced that as long as he built the biggest, the best and the most expensive of everything, Malaysia would be treated with respect by the international community. Predictably, Malaysia had instead become a byword for the funding and construction of white elephants.

Singh walked towards the trains linking the Kuala Lumpur International Airport terminal building and the arrival hall. The ceiling above was lit with hundreds of small lights intended to look like the stars at night. He had read somewhere that a computer program had been used to locate the lights randomly and so no pattern was detectable. He scowled. Programmed randomness struck him as an oxymoron. He caught the connecting train and was further irritated. It was automated – did not have a driver. Inspector Singh had spent a career exploring the fallibility of man but he preferred the risk of human error to the certainty of electronic indifference to his well-being. Moments later, he stepped out of the air-conditioned coolness of the terminal into the sweltering tropical heat.

Singh strolled to the massed ranks of Mercedes Benz and climbed into the back of the first one. The Malay driver – almost all the drivers on the authorised limousine service were Malay – had an unkempt, wispy, black beard. His car on the other hand was immaculate. A verse of the Quran was plastered on the rear window. Inspector Singh did not read Arabic but he knew the expression was ‘There is no God but Allah and Muhammad is his only Prophet’. Across the glove compartment there was another sticker with the words ‘You’ll Never Walk Alone’ emblazoned next to a logo of Liverpool Football Club.

Noticing the inspector looking at it, the driver asked, ‘You Liverpool supporter?’

Inspector Singh watched continuous cricket coverage on the cable cricket channel in Singapore. But he felt mischievous and said, ‘No, Manchester United.’ He had forgotten that United was no longer the hate figure of the football world.

The driver nodded sympathetically. ‘Very hard now for other teams. Chelsea boss got all the money.’ He guffawed, exposing two rows of gold fillings that Singh could see glinting in the rearview mirror. ‘Last time, what is important is who wins the game. Now what is important is who has the richest boss. Bagi orang kaya trophy sahaja!’ Give the rich man the trophy right away!

Inspector Singh laughed and then pulled out the newspaper he had picked up on the plane and settled down to read the latest on the matter that had brought him to Kuala Lumpur.

Two

‘There is nothing for you to do here! I don’t know why you came. The Malaysian police can handle everything. You should go back now.’ The speaker’s moustache, a neat black brush with flecks of grey, bristled angrily as he shouted at the man across the desk from him. His eyes, under straight, thick brows, glared at the inspector from a nut-brown face.

Inspector Singh remained expressionless. He said, ‘You have no choice and I have no choice. So we can do this the easy way or the hard way.’ Seeing that the Malaysian Superintendent of Police was unmoved by this call to reason he added, ‘After all, neither of us wants to see a miscarriage of justice.’

The officer did not respond. He sat at his desk, drumming his fingers on the table in an impatient tattoo. His desktop was devoid of anything that looked work related. Perhaps, thought Singh, the higher-ups in Malaysia merely waited around behind big, empty desks until there was an opportunity to throw their weight around with some foreign cop. He knew from his own experience in Singapore that the further up the ladder one got, the more the job was about politics and statistics than actually dealing with crime.

The Malaysian policeman was waiting for some reaction from his Singaporean counterpart. Singh wondered if he was expected to acknowledge the wisdom of the man’s remarks, pick up his bags and head back to Singapore with his tail between his legs. Surely it was obvious that his superiors in Singapore had more leverage over him than the officer glowering at him across the desk? Still, if there was a waiting game to be played, Inspector Singh was a past master. He sat nonchalantly in the chair, eyeing a display of plastic flowers in a plastic vase.

The Malaysian was the first to blink. He stood up, walked over to a filing cabinet, slid open a drawer and took out a large folder.

He said, ‘I do not like it but certain quarters have demanded that I cooperate. This is what we have done so far. We have the wife in custody. You can see her if you like. You can interview any other person in Malaysia but only if they agree. We cannot make anyone talk to you. I will send you my ADC. He will assist you.’

And watch my every move and report back to you, thought the inspector, but he did not say anything. This was a higher level of cooperation, however reluctant, than he had expected. Pressure must have been brought to bear at the highest levels. He nodded his thanks to the scowling man and picked up the folder.

The Malaysian leaned forward and put two splayed hands on the table. He said, ‘One more thing: if you overstep your authority, I will put you in the jail cell next to the accused. And I don’t think the Singapore government will send anyone to rescue you!’

Inspector Singh nodded cheerfully, assuming correctly that amusement would be the response that his opposite number would find most infuriating. He wondered when Malaysian officialdom would get over its need to indulge in theatrical bullying.

A few strides later he was out of the door. The muffled sound of footsteps caused him to turn round and he saw a young policeman hurrying after him. Singh stopped and waited.

‘Sir!’ A smart salute accompanied the greeting. ‘I am Sergeant Shukor, aide-de-camp to Superintendent Khalid Ibrahim. He asked me to help you with this case.’

‘Good. You can start by finding me a place to sit down and read this report,’ ordered Inspector Singh. ‘And then I’ll need some tea.’

Inspector Singh lumbered after the young policeman assigned to be his minder and was shown into a small room with a desk and filing cabinet. He sat down heavily in the lone chair in the room which creaked a noisy protest. Singh swivelled around to look out of the heavily tinted glass windows behind him. On a field, a posse of young men dressed in blue shorts and white T-shirts were being put through their paces by a trainer whose booming voice could be heard faintly by the inspector. At least there was still an emphasis on fitness and not just computer skills in the police-training manual, he thought. As if to emphasise his own devotion to health, he lit a cigarette and wedged his large posterior more firmly into his chair.

He glanced at Sergeant Shukor, who was still standing smartly to attention. The young man had a tanned strong jaw, a broad flat nose and eyes that were slightly too widely spaced. If the sergeant has been a briefcase carrier his whole career, he could not have got his hands very dirty, thought the inspector. The Malaysian policeman’s dark blue uniform was pressed to perfection and tight enough to grip muscular thighs and forearms. His regulation service revolver – shiny, black and dangerous – was neatly holstered.

Singh asked, ‘So who is actually in charge of the Lee murder investigation?’

‘Inspector Mohammad, sir.’

‘Shouldn’t I be talking to him before getting to work?’

The sergeant looked uncomfortable. He was remarkably transparent for a police officer. His emotions were both visible and decipherable as they flitted across his face.

Singh asked, ‘What is it?’

‘He was supposed to be here to meet you, sir. But he hasn’t turned up.’

The inspector from Singapore grimaced. ‘Not another Malaysian policeman with a bad attitude?’

‘He’s not exactly like that, sir.’

Singh was just about to probe deeper when there was a quiet knock on the door.

At a glance from the senior policeman, Shukor opened it.

A very tall man with thick, short, iron grey hair and a thin, ascetic face walked in. He was dressed in an extremely smart, dark suit, wore a pale blue shirt and a darker blue tie and had cufflinks with a college crest on them. He looked like he belonged on the stage, playing a Shakespearean tragedy, or in a boardroom with lots of deferential subordinates agreeing to everything he said.

He said, ‘Inspector Singh? I’m Inspector Mohammad. Thank you for coming down to help us poor Malaysians stumbling around in the dark on this case.’

His voice matched his looks – smooth and effortlessly classy. And his hostility was going to be subtle and difficult to overcome. Singh, suddenly conscious of his damp shirt and pot belly, took the cigarette out of his mouth and said, ‘It’s my pleasure, Inspector Mohammad.’

‘Please call me Mohammad. We don’t have time for formality if we’re to work together.’

Inspector Singh nodded. ‘I understand from the sergeant here that you’re in charge of this case?’

‘The murder of Alan Lee? Yes, I’m afraid so. Still, it seems a fairly open and shut case, doesn’t it?’

Singh gestured to the pile of papers in front of him. ‘I was just making myself familiar with the facts.’

Inspector Mohammad’s lip curled. ‘It’s not pretty, I’m afraid. Well, I’d better leave you to it. Shukor here will get you anything you need and I’m in my office when you’re

Reviews for Inspector Singh Investigates

[tysonadams · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

I really do enjoy a good mystery novel. They can make do without the sex and violence of normal crime or thriller stories and yet still keep you intrigued. Shamini did have a good reason for eschewing sex and violence, her mother edits it all out. Fortunately she left the humour and intrigue in.

This is my first Shamini Flint novel, and features the fat Indian Inspector for Singapore, Inspector Singh. Singh is the atypical hero, someone you would prefer not to know. Yet you find yourself wanting the inspector to triumph in his battle to find the truth. You also wish that he went somewhere a little less humid, so as to avoid sweating.

Shamini takes an interesting approach to writing a murder mystery. She picks a topic or issue she wants to explore and then writes a murder to bring the fat inspector onto the scene. In this way her novel is as much social commentary as it is murder mystery. I was quite interested in the look into law in Asia, especially the conflicts and overlaps between the different court systems there.

If you like mysteries, then you'll enjoy Inspector Singh Investigates.

[lukerik-1 · Rating: 1 out of 5 stars]

Dire. And just so boring. There's a scene where the protagonist considers changing his shoes. Another where he watches chapatis being cooked. My personal favourite was the one where a secondary character sharpens his pencils.

[karensiddall · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Engaging characters and a vibrant locale set the stage for this exciting mystery to play out.When a famous Singaporean model is arrested for the murder of her husband, a lumber magnate, in Kuala Lumpur, his superiors in the Singapore Police send Inspector Singh to Malaysia to ensure Chelsea Liew receives a fair shake. With a pretty much cut-and-dried case against Liew, this assignment is viewed as a no-win situation for Singh and seen as a possible way to rid the department of him. And although Singh has a successful investigative history, he is considered a pariah within his department for an as-yet unrevealed reason. He is not greeted warmly at his arrival on the Malaysian Police Commissioner’s doorstep, but his “cooperation” in the case is grudgingly accepted, and he’s assigned a local officer as an assistant. Sergeant Shukor, the Commissioner’s aide-de-camp, is supposed to keep an eye on Singh, subtly thwart his participation, and hurry him on his way back to Singapore. However, Shukor is a genuinely earnest cop and feels Singh is on to something. He quickly switches to Singh’s camp, and together, they pursue the elements that make up the evidence against Chelsea.The accused and the deceased, Alan Lee, were going through a bitter divorce and custody battle at the time of his murder. During their last court appearance, Lee’s attorney had dropped a bombshell on everyone, announcing that his client had recently converted to Islam. According to the Malaysian constitution, this development put the question of the custody of their children in the hands of the religious Syariah court, where they would most certainly award custody to their now-Moslem father. Lee, an abusive wife-beater, known repeat adulterer, and disinterested parent at best, is suspected of making a sham conversion to spite his wife and separate her from her beloved children, giving her a strong motive for his murder.With things looking grim for Chelsea, a conviction means a mandatory death sentence for her; she has mentally given up as she languishes in the local prison awaiting her trial. Singh is eventually able to shake her out of her stupor, though, with his offer of help. A Most Peculiar Malaysian Murder is the first book in Shamini Flint’s Inspector Singh Investigates series. It is a superb beginning with a curious lead detective, a colorful and exotic Malaysian setting, and an intriguing, surprise-filled plot. Interestingly, we don’t learn much about the main character; he’s even addressed as Singh or Inspector Singh throughout, never a first name. We know he is married, a Sikh, has a widowed sister living in Kuala Lumpur whom he ends up staying with during the extended investigation, and that his Singaporean colleagues would love to have him gone. Physically, he’s short, rotund, sweats profusely, smokes, and snores like a freight train, according to his sister. He’s just not a very engaging sounding lead character, but somehow, he is just that, and very much so. He coaxes witnesses to tell all and wins over his Malaysian counterparts quite handily. The missing pieces to the puzzle of his backstory, though, will act like catnip on me; I will need to read further in the series for sure. In addition, I enjoyed both Shukor and Inspector Mohammed, the Malaysian connections, one for his genuineness and the other for his elegance and grace. I hope they reappear in series down the road. The Malaysian setting was exotic; I haven’t run across any other mysteries using this location as a backdrop. The descriptions immersed me in the place. I felt I had a reasonably good image of what the inspector and other characters were experiencing. And although the story doesn’t linger in Borneo, I thought I got a clear impression of that place and a good idea of the events of the time with the logging industry, palm oil, and the Penan people (which continues today.)Along with its engaging characters, multiple points of view, and vibrant locale, the plot provides many viable suspects and red herrings to dismiss before getting to its final resolution. I never saw the answer until a tiny action clued me in, thinking, “No, really?” Not that the suspect was implausible but that I’d been had – completely. Having admitted that, I will say the resolution also satisfied me – completely.I recommend A MOST PECULIAR MALAYSIAN MURDER to readers of mystery fiction who would enjoy a different sort of police detective, competent for sure but with flaws and perhaps storied background. Also, this book might fit the bill for mystery readers who, although they aren’t into the cozy subgenre, don’t care for a lot of blood and guts in the details of their crime stories.

[sharrona_4 · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

More detail about politics and religion than I would’ve preferred, but perhaps the author was establishing groundwork for the series to follow.

[librolindsay · Rating: 2 out of 5 stars]

I decided to start from the beginning since I had so much fun with the latest installment, A Calamitous Chinese Killing, but I found the writing in this a bit too clunky to be engaging (though the plot was decent enough). Not going to give up on the series altogether--I'm just hoping it picks up a bit sooner than later.

[cygnet81 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

This is a great book for anyone who is a fan of Mma. Ramotswe, or Vishi Puri mysteries. It is a police procedural but fun to read with a cheery new detective.

[vivienner_3 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

This is an entertaining mystery with the added enjoyment of Malaysia as a location. There was lots of interesting information about the culture and society, environmental issues like deforestation, and how the law applies to different ethnic groups. Inspector Singh was portrayed beautifully, although other characters were a little more difficult to picture. This enjoyable story kept me involved to the last page.

[eyejaybee · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

It took me a while to be convinced by this novel, but it won me over in the end. I had picked it up in a speculative mood at my local branch of Waterstone's where it was being promoted, and I was intrigued by the thought of a murder set in Malaysia having just read Anthony Burgess's [Malayan Trilogy]. This book is the first volume in a series featuring Inspector Singh, who is actually on the Singaporean Police Force. In this book he is despatched to nearby Malaysia because Chelsea Kiew, a Singaporean citizen, has been arrested for the murder of her husband, Alan Lee. Lee was a controversial figure having been Chief Executive of a logging firm that had frequently been suspected of illegal practices, including the persecution of rain forest dwelling tribes in Borneo. Chesea Kiew is prominent in her own right having previously been a supermodel adored across south east Asia. Lee had led a playboy's lifestyle, frequently being photographed enjoying Kuala Lumpur's night life with a succession of glamorous partners. This had led to the start of very messy divorce proceedings which had drawn fervent coverage in the local press.Shortly after Chelsea's imprudent and widely-reported remark to the effect that she would rather kill her husband than let him gain custody of their children, Lee is indeed killed, and Chelsea is arrested.Enter Inspector Singh. We don't know much about him beyond the fact that he is overweight, always hungry and inveterately scruffy. He also has a loveless marriage, and is not sorry to be sent to Malaysia for a few days. He is sent to liaise with his Malaysian counterparts to ensure that Chelsea Kiew's rights are not infringed. After initially (and predictably) getting off on the wrong foot with the Malaysian police, he does indeed start to uncover sufficient ground to call her guilt into question. At this point one of Lee's brothers confesses to the murder.After a shaky start the story became very gripping, and Inspector Singh took on a clearly defined, and likeable, character.

[mamzel_1 · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

Inspector Singh is not very popular in his home town of Singapore so his superiors have no qualms about sending him to Kuala Lumpur to assist in the investigation of a wealthy Malaysian businessman. The main suspect is a beautiful ex-model from Singapore who supposedly killed her husband because he abused her.Our turbaned investigator actually prefers operating in Malaysia since the rules of interrogation are much more relaxed. As expected he does not receive a warm welcome but the local police give him an assistant and the files. They grow to appreciate his insight and humanity.What is odd about this mystery is that our hero does not solve whodunit before the facts are revealed. But his presence does allow the innocent to avoid terrible consequences so it was good he was there.An enjoyable foray into a far away locale.

[zeborah · Rating: 2 out of 5 stars]

I'm not really a mystery fan, so I don't know if the genre is as white-English-village as it's stereotyped to be, but if so this makes a great change.

It wasn't however unproblematic. Islam is, though not evil, certainly a major antagonistic force in this story. We briefly encounter a nomadic tribe in Borneo whose nobly pacific ways are under threat by evil Big Commerce, and who are championed by a white guy gone native, not to even the whole avenging-the-dead-wife-and-son motif. And... I think the author intended to portray Inspector Singh in a fat-positive way? but the language used struck me as rather failing in that goal.

On broader terms, I do think that when you're writing a murder mystery in an omniscient point of view, you've got to be really good or else it just looks like multi-pov-of-convenience. Though I admit, I somehow wasn't terribly annoyed by the fact that the author had been hiding a solution which we should otherwise have seen in the character's thoughts before the end - possibly because we'd had scenes with all the characters' thoughts by then, so I was already resigned to the fact that she wasn't playing fair somewhere and was just waiting to find out where.

I think it was supposed to be interesting that large chunks of this unfolded without, or even in spite of, Inspector Singh's involvement? Theoretically I like that conceit, and maybe it'd succeed better for someone more familiar with the genre. For me it wasn't lampshaded quite enough so felt more like weak plotting than genre subversion.

But really the worst fault I found in it was that the prose was devastatingly lackluster. I was so unimpressed by it that it pains me to admit that such a judgement is necessarily subjective (my sister threw Twilight against the proverbial wall after a few pages of its prose, whereas I thought it was perfectly serviceable) but there, maybe others will enjoy it.

[condorena · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Singapore is not Kuala Lampur Inspector Singh keeps reminding himself as he travels around this very busy city which is the federal capitol and the most populous city in Malaysia. He has been sent here from the beautiful, well regulated Singapore where he has been getting on the nerves of some of his superiors, to help with the case of Chelsea Liew, a former model who has been accused of murdering her abusive, philandering, quite wealthy husband. She was from Singapore originally.

At this point in her life however, Chelsea is the mother of three boys who mean the world to her and even though her dead spouse was using all the power at his command take her children away from her. She will do anything to prevent this, but would she commit murder? His latest scheme was to convert to Islam which would force the courts to give the children to him. This is just one way in which his Machiavellian mind works. He has made enemies of many people over the years, including his brothers and people who would like to stop him from decimating the remaining reserved forests in order to supply lumber to insatiable countries who are building like beavers.

Singh is an intriguing man, almost like a beaver in that he forges ahead with his investigation despite setbacks. He has a certain way which gets results where others give up.
I really enjoyed this first of a series and I am really looking forward to reading the next installment which takes place in Bali.

[bsquaredinoz · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Inspector Singh of the Singapore police is close to retirement age but having done something to annoy his superiors he’s the officer chosen to go to Malaysia to look after the interests of a Singaporean citizen in trouble. Former model Chelsea Liew has been arrested for the murder of her Malaysian ex-husband Alan Lee and Singh is meant to observe Malaysian police and ensure that she receives a fair deal. The problem for Singh is that everyone believes her guilty (and who would blame her given Lee’s years of abuse and the bitter custody battle they were in regarding their children) and if she is convicted she will receive the death penalty.

As seems to be happening more and more with my crime fiction reading of late the mystery element takes a back seat to other aspects of this novel. In this instance it’s not a bad thing at all as there is so much else of interest going on, reminding me once again how suitable the conventions of crime fiction are for writers to explore a range of issues and ideas. Here Flint has included everything from relatively innocuous (though fascinating) observations about the differences between Singaporean and Malaysian cultures to tougher subjects such as the problems that can arise in Malaysia which operates under common law for most things but has formally adopted Sharia law to deal with family law matters for Muslims. By using an example of a remotely possible case in this world of dual laws Flint has offered real food for thought and by resolving this thread in a somewhat unorthodox manner she offers no easy solution to the complexities that must inevitably arise in this type of scenario. Very realistic! It’s a powerful storyline and, for me, made more so because it plays out simply, without any proselytizing.

Although tradition might demand the reader has some sympathy for the victim of a murder it is somewhat difficult here. Alan Lee appears not to have many redeeming qualities, being an abusive husband, horrible father, callous businessman and all around despicable human being. This does give Inspector Singh something to work with when he becomes convinced of Liew’s innocence and tries to convince the local authorities of it. As a character Singh is something of a stereotype being portly, smarter than average and a bit of a loner. He can be quite funny too, especially when dealing with his sister (who lives in Malaysia and provides her hospitality with opinionated homespun wisdom). Although we do meet two local investigators we don’t get to know them in much depth as, unlike most series of this type the Inspector will be off to another country in the next book so there’s not the impetus to develop ‘the investigative team’. Instead we spend time learning about the suspects, especially Alan Lee’s family. I really enjoyed this approach to storytelling.

Aside from this excellent review at Crime Scraps most reviews I have seen of this book (and the series which now totals) talk about it being light, fun and cosy and I think this is a little misleading. The crime at its heart does happen ‘off-stage’ so to speak and there are not extended passages of violent description so in that way the book is, I suppose, ‘cosy’ but I found the subjects it explored anything but light and frothy. In addition to the issues mentioned above it also deftly tackles the environmental impact of deforestation in the region and the treatment of local indigenous communities, neither of which are subjects I would consider light.

Although now a proud stay-at-home mum in Singapore Shamini Flint has worked as a lawyer in both Singapore and Malaysia which provides an authentic feel to this book. Although it’s not first and foremost a legal thriller there are many scenes in which the law and its application is discussed and dissected in a thought provoking way. Amongst all of this we are treated to a solidly entertaining whodunnit as well, which kept this reader guessing to the end. Although I will happily read the next installment of this series in paper form I am really hoping that it will be released in audio format too as the narration of this book by Jonathan Keeble was (as always) excellent.

[olivermagnus · Rating: 2 out of 5 stars]

Inspector Singh of the Singapore police is close to retirement age but having done something to annoy his superiors he 19s the officer chosen to go to Malaysia to look after the interests of a Singaporean citizen in trouble. Former model Chelsea Liew has been arrested for the murder of her Malaysian ex-husband Alan Lee and Singh is meant to observe Malaysian police and ensure that she receives a fair deal. The problem for Singh is that everyone believes her guilty and if she is convicted she will receive the death penalty.

He's not in his usual territory and must rely on some local support. There are a few interesting subplots working their way through the book including the chief suspect fighting the Shariah courts for custody of her children, a battle for control of the family company, and a tribe of native people's being butchered, all of which are pulled together at the end of the book. There's less of a solving and more of a revealing going on, and because of that I doubt it's going to be a very satisfactory ending for fans of guessing the culprit before the author reveals all.

As a character Singh is something of a stereotype being portly, smarter than average and a bit of a loner. He can be quite funny too, especially when dealing with his sister (who lives in Malaysia and provides her hospitality with opinionated homespun wisdom). I thought the book was a light, fun read, introducing a new protagonist. I will try another in the series and see if I like it a bit more.

[bjmitch_1 · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

Cathy of the Kittling:Books blog has been writing about Inspector Singh books for a while now and her reviews were so funny I just had to try one. I borrowed this one from the library. It turns out Cathy is right; I'm going to look for the rest of the series now.Inspector Singh is a police detective in Singapore. For this case he has been sent to Kuala Lumpur to investigate the case of a former model from Singapore who has been accused of killing her ex-husband. Since Singh is obese and unused to Kuala Lumpur, he sweats, gets his shiny shoes dusty, unwillingly visits his gossipy sister, faces down the opposition of the local police force to his intrusion, and resents his minder. The victim, Alan Lee, was the president of a huge logging company which has been clear-cutting in Borneo and causing all kinds of violent trouble for the people and animals on that island. Lee was a wife beater, and cheated on his gorgeous wife frequently as he enjoyed his money and let his youngest brother run the company. The middle brother, Jasper, is an ecologist investigating his younger brother's misuse of power. Meanwhile, the victim's wife had divorced him but was in danger of losing her children because Alan Lee had converted to Islam before he died and the Islamic Court would probably rule against letting the children be raised by a non-Moslem woman.Now all this is very serious stuff, but Singh is unconsciously hilarious. The contrast between him and the others on the case is, as author Shamini Flint writes, "Mohammad led the way, walking with long-limbed elegance. Shukor padded silently in his wake, Singh lumbered after them. A study in physical contrasts, they looked like a procession that was not just walking along a corridor but up the evolutionary chain as well."Flint is a writer with a light touch but her characters are drawn swiftly and precisely. I also enjoyed the descriptions of Kuala Lumpur, especially when Singh got lost in the city. You think of a sharp detective as a man who can chase suspects, is an excellent shot, yet cerebral. Singh is anything but this kind of detective but he surely gets the job done. He's a great character and I liked this book very much.

[austcrimefiction · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

Think Hercule Poirot in a Sikh turban and the tropical heat of Kuala Lumpur, but add a hefty dose of rumpled Columbo and I think that's the best description of Inspector Singh of the Singapore police that I can come up with. A MOST PECULIAR MALAYSIAN MURDER is the first in this series from Singapore based author Shamini Flint.This book is definitely on the lighter side of crime fiction, I'll have to read the next couple that I have here to be able to say if that's an ongoing characteristic, but I'm guessing it's probably exactly where the books are heading. Whilst there is a shooting murder in this book, it happens off-page, there's very little in the way of rushing around on the part of the main protagonist and whilst there is always the threat of the death penalty hanging over the chief suspect, there's a sense that Inspector Singh will, of course, save the day. Which he does with a hefty dose of gentle humour, quite questioning, observation and just enough prodding of various sore points. Or at least he sort of does. But more on plot later. It seems a more than reasonable expectation that the personality of the main character is going to inform each of his future investigations, and whilst Singh takes his job seriously, he's very much set up to be a "character".Of course a debut book in a series has to be read with that in mind, and A MOST PECULIAR MALAYSIAN MURDER is an unusual book in that Inspector Singh isn't so much "investigating the crime" as checking that another authority have got it right. He's not in his usual territory and must rely on some local support (and use some indifference from the local authorities as a spur to proceed). There's a few sub-themes working their way through the book - with the chief suspect fighting the Syariah courts for custody of her children, a battle for control of the family company, and a tribe of native people's being butchered, all of which are pulled together at the end of the book with some hefty reeling in of the various lines. It's not too hard to work out that these threads are all going to coincide, and therefore have some idea of where the resolution is coming from, but there are precious few clues for the reader to work with. Really there's less of a solving and more of a revealing going on, and because of that I doubt it's going to be a very satisfactory ending for fans of guessing the culprit before the author reveals all.As the start of a new series of rumpled, "character" type detectives, I thought A MOST PECULIAR MALAYSIAN MURDER was a good, light, fun read, introducing a new protagonist who really seems to have some potential. In future books I really hope he hits his stride, embraces his inner grumpy old man and gets to grips with his surroundings. I'm also hoping that the next books have a little more leeway to introduce the world that Inspector Singh inhabits, as this first book did seem to have it's hands full introducing him.

[macabr_1 · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

The full title of the book includes the words “A Most Peculiar Malaysian Murder” and murder is definitely outside of the norm as murders go.Inspector Singh is something of an annoyance to his superiors and his comrades in the Singapore police. He is opinionated, stubborn, and somewhat disrespectful of authority (insofar as anyone can be disrespectful of authority in Singapore) so when it is learned that a woman from the city-state is accused of murder in Kuala Lumpur, it makes sense to send Singh to a place where he can annoy others for awhile.The woman destined to be on death row is Chelsea Liew, a former model with one of the most recognizable faces in southeast Asia. She is accused of killing her husband, Alan Lee, a man no one was going to miss. Alan Lee was the director of the family timber business, a highly successful family enterprise that had made the family very wealthy. Alan and Chelsea had married in a highly publicized ceremony that had conferred the status of royalty on the couple. But, behind closed doors, Alan was guilty of spousal abuse, he was a philanderer, and he was involved in a number of nefarious business schemes that did nothing to enhance the name of Lee in Malay society.When Chelsea decides to divorce Alan, she isn’t prepared for the degree to which he will go to ensure that he gets sole custody of their sons. He converts to Islam and declares his children to be Muslims as well, guaranteeing that Chelsea will have no contact with them.Alan dies at the hands of someone who knew him well enough to get past his bodyguards. After publicly swearing that she would kill him for taking her children, Chelsea is the immediate front runner in the “who killed Alan Lee” stakes but there are other contenders. Alan’s older brother, Jasper, the heir to the business, has walked away from it to pursue his commitment to protect the ecology of the country and has watched his brother ignore the policies that the Lee family have in place to protect the forests which are the source of their wealth. The younger son, Kian Min, has plans to go further in expanding the family timber company no matter what the cost and the first item of business is to get rid of Alan. Chelsea insists that she is innocent but the police are convinced of her guilt and see no need to look further.INSPECTOR SINGH INVESTIGATES is a story of marital disaster, family breakdown, greed, jealousy, misguided commitments, and shattered loyalty. The Lee family are starring in their own soap opera with Inspector Singh in the wings watching the drama, looking for the person who goes off script.The book is a fast read and most of the violence is kept off the page. Unfortunately, the intriguing things about the locales, Kuala Lumpur and Singapore, are also kept off the page. The story could take place in any major city in nearly any part of the world. There is nothing of the sense of place that is found in Cotterill’s Laos, Qiu’s Shanghai, or Hallinan’s Bangkok. Malaysia is confined to the cover art.That being said, I will probably read other books in the series as they become available.

[tubegrrl_1 · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

A nice , fun read in the classic British Agatha Christy mystery style. Not a thriller, more intellectual, but a bit different because of the Asian setting. Not a page-turner you can't put down, but I found I wanted to finish it. The author has the potential to develop into a very polished writer of well-crafted stories, I suspect each book will become better and better. Worth watching out for, I may well seek out her other books.

[cathyskye · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

First Line: The accused, Chelsea Liew, was in court.Portly Inspector Singh is at the top of the Singapore Police's "early retirement" wish list. It seems that Singh is notoriously difficult to deal with, and they just want to wash their hands of him. So when former Singapore resident and top model Chelsea Liew is accused of murdering her husband, his superiors see this as an excellent opportunity to be Singh-free for a while.In no time at all, Inspector Singh finds himself in Kuala Lumpur complete with an "aide", Sergeant Shukor of the Malaysian police. Singh didn't just fall off the turnip truck that morning-- he knows that Shukor is following his every step not to help, but to spy. Be that as it may, Singh relishes his relative freedom and begins to track down all the "players".Chelsea Liew was in the midst of a divorce from her wealthy husband, Alan Lee. The most heated part of the proceedings concerned custody of their children. Without warning, Lee informed everyone that he had converted to Islam and declared his children Muslim so only the religious courts had jurisdiction over custody. When she heard this, Chelsea threatened to kill Alan, so when he was found shot to death soon afterward, the police focused on her and no one else. Inspector Singh talks to many people and begins putting pieces of information together. He knows the answer is not a simple "Chelsea did it."I have to admit that author Shamini Flint had me in the palm of her hand by page 8 of this book when two self-important men are fighting for a better place in line at the airport: "You heard me, get in line here." "Behind all these people?" "Yup." "You can't do that!" It was the Chinese man. "I've just done it..." "I'll have your badge for this!" he stammered angrily. Singh grinned, suddenly happy. He said, "There's a long queue for that too!"It's probably got something to do with the fact that I had obnoxious souls in my face trying to intimidate me by threatening to write to my superiors to have me fired. My normal response was to spell my name very carefully to avoid confusion. But to get back to this marvelous book....Flint seemed to treat each one of her characters with extraordinary care-- even the obnoxious ones. It didn't take long for me to feel as though I'd known everyone in the book for years. Kuala Lumpur is described so well that I feel as though I'd actually been there, and Flint adds just enough information on current events to make the place come to life.Wonderful characters in a fully realized setting-- and a plot with surprises all along the way. I thoroughly enjoyed Inspector Singh and his visit to Malaysia. I can't wait to get my hands on his other adventures! (I also have a feeling that I know why his superiors want him to retire: he follows the spirit of the law even better than he follows the letter of the law.)

[julesjones_1 · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

A maverick senior police officer follows his instincts to solve a crime, in spite of interference from above. It's a stock pattern in the mystery genre, but this has one or two interesting twists. For this inspector is a Sikh in the Singapore police force, and the politics he has to negotiate include the somewhat strained relationship between Singapore and Malaysia. A famed Singapore model has been arrested for the murder of her Malaysian logging industry tycoon husband. The couple have been resident in Malaysia for two decades, and there's an obvious motive in a messy divorce case, but perhaps the local police have been a little too grateful for a nice obvious motive. The Singapore public want their own police involved, and the Singapore government is willing to insist that there be cross-border co-operation in looking after its citizen's rights. Inspector Singh has annoyed one too many people, and to his superiors he seems like the ideal fall guy for a case where race, religion and nationalism are likely to overshadow the truth.Singh isn't what the Malaysian detective in charge of the case wanted, but both men recognise the political realities of their situation, and try to make the best of it. And when another suspect presents himself at the police station, Inspector Mohammad becomes rather more willing to let his young sergeant assist Singh instead of simply keeping tabs on him. As the case grows ever more convoluted and new motives appear by the bushel, all three men have their hands full...It's an entertaining read, and clearly written by someone who knows from the inside the cultures and issues she's writing about. Sometimes a little too clearly, as the cultural descriptions get a bit too info-dumping in places, rather than providing a sense of place. I did wonder whether this was the writer's choice, or an editorial decision to make sure UK and US readers had enough background to follow what was going on. But one thing I particularly liked was the way Flint shows the culture clash problems from multiple angles, rather than simply painting one side as the bad guys.There are some other problems: I found the book structure a bit choppy in places, I don't think it quite works in terms of the reader being able to work out whodunnit just from the clues in the text, and it gets a touch too preachy about the logging industry in places (partly because one of the villain characters feels a bit too Stock Villain to me). But Singh himself is a very likeable character, and some of the other characters are very well drawn. While this book isn't a keeper for me, I want to read the next one in the series.

[riverwillow · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Great book. Inspector Singh is a brilliant central character whose humanity drives the plot. I loved the many twists and turns in the plot, and was genuinely surprised by the resolution. I particularly enjoyed how Singh kept comparing, not always favourably, Malaysia with Singapore, and his strained relationship with his sister. I look forward to reading the other books in the series, and. hopefully, meeting his unsatisfactory wife.

[smik_3 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Chelsea Liew, mother of three, Singaporean ex-model, is in custody in Kuala Lumpur, remanded on the charge of murdering her ex-husband Alan Lee, business magnate, head of Lee Timber, a firm rumoured to be plundering and laying waste to Borneo's reamining natural rainforest. Alan Lee and his wife had been in a very public custody battle for their 3 boys, complicated by the fact that he had recently converted to Islam, thus shifting the jurisdiction of which court would decide on the custody. Alan Lee was shot just a week before on a deserted street two hundred yards from his front gate and his ex-wife was arrested within hours and charged with his murder.Enter Inspector Singh, sent from Singapore, to ensure that Chelsea who has retained her Singaporean citizenship despite twenty years of marriage and residency in KL, gets a fair trial. A problem arises when Singh becomes convinced that Chelsea Liew is not guilty. It becomes even more complicated when Jasper Lee, Alan Lee's elder brother, and self declared nature activist, walks into the Bukit Aman police station and declares that he in fact murdered Alan.Inspector Singh has not been sent to KL because he is a brilliant detective ensured of success. In fact quite the opposite. he has been handed a "poisoned chalice". The case is surrounded by politics and he is one of the last mavericks in the Singapore police force, "the elephant in the room that noone talked about but everyone hoped would do the decent thing and take early retirement". And rather conveniently he has a sister in KL so he can stay with her if needed.INSPECTOR SINGH INVESTIGATES: A Most Peculiar Malaysian Murder is Shamini Flint's debut crime novel, the first of a promised series of 3, and I find myself quite willing to read the second. This is despite the fact that there were times when I almost lost interest in this one.It is hard to put my finger on what went wrong for me, but I suspect that at times there was just too much detail provided and some of it was repetitious. I understand though the author's desire to make sure the reader understands the cultural context of the novel's setting. She also picks up on internationally sensitive topics such as the pollution caused annually by the burning of Indonesian rainforests. The custody battle reminded me a little of the case of Shahira Gillespie, particularly of some of the issues that surfaced there.I liked the character of Inspector Singh and I think Flint has created a protagonist with possibilities. Despite the fact that INSPECTOR SINGH INVESTIGATES: A Most Peculiar Malaysian Murder is a relatively short novel, I think it possibly needed a bit more editing, to get more "show" and less "tell" into it.