Praefectus Praetorio
R.I.P. Brother of the Quill
A lot of ground to cover today
Lima Puluh Empat
Punishment Room? Changi Prison, Wednesday, 10:01 AM
“The Commandant says you can come down from your Perch. You’ve more work to do.”
Barbara let out a faint cry of relief. In her cramped position, she could barely breathe.
“OK, You two hold her up, I’ll slip the bar out,” Imran instructed the others. Barbara felt four hands underneath lift her to take the weight off the bar. She almost sobbed with relief at the thought.
But when they did lift her, straightening her back and allowing her to breathe, sho almost immediately let out a long high intense wail of pain.
“Ah, yes, Miss Moore,” chuckled Imran as he slid the bar out, and the guards gently laid the woman on the floor. “Now that the pressure is relieved and the blood flows, your muscles and joints can hurt more. We’ll just let you scream a while.”
Chief Inspector’s Office, Parliamentary Guards Headquarters, 11:00 AM
A rather attractive and very shapely, and young female orderly poured out coffee for Frost and bin Ibrahim in the Chief Inspector’s office. Frost noticed and appreciated the shape inside her tight, uniform skirt as she bent over the desk. OK, Dickie Bird, he said to himself. You’ve proved you can still like it. Now back to work.
“Thank you, Sonya,” said Musa, adding a generous pour of heavy cream into his coffee. “I’ll buzz if I need you.” The orderly left. “She’s a gem,” he said appreciatively.
“So. We have a bit of a puzzle here,” Musa said, turning to Frost.
“Yes. Let’s see if we can untangle any of it. One question at a time.”
“Fine. Will you ask first? The Chief Inspector had grown to respect Frost’s wisdom and experience.
“Rape.” Said Frost. “Did Rogers rape Miss Jones?”
“Undoubtedly. Forensic, eyewitness, her binding, her screams. An easy call and conviction. However, he is dead. The Parliamentary Court can enter a judgment of rape. A judgment gives the victim, Miss Jones, a basis to sue the estate and official proof that it was not voluntary.”
“Good,” said Frost, with a note of satisfaction in his voice. “Did Jiang rape her?”
“He did not have actual intercourse, no penetration. Forensic and eyewitness accounts confirm that. He denies it, even under strong questioning.”
“What can he be convicted of?” asked Frost with a sigh. Both he and Musa would have loved to have convicted him of rape and seen him receive the 40 cane strokes and twenty-year sentence that came with it. But facts were facts.
“Quite a lot. Accessory to rape, attempted rape, aggravated assault and battery, and sexual assault.”
“Yes?” said Frost.
“I’d expect the Court to give him a substantial lashing and ten years at hard labor.”
“Well deserved,” said Frost. “There is no evidence of any other involved, so this wraps up our central case. What of your men who stood by and did nothing?”
“I’ve just heard from the Guard leadership. They will be dishonorably discharged from the Guard, and charged with felony depraved indifference. They’ll probably get off with a light caning. However, their careers in law enforcement and the military are over. Docked all pay and benefits. Not evil men really, just young and stupid and too easily intimidated.”
“I agree. Now let’s turn to the peripheral questions.”
Commandant’s Office, Changi Prison, Wednesday, 11:05 AM
Mamat bin Osman looked with curious interest at Barbara Moore. She was the most attractive and the most challenging inmate he had dealt with in a long while. Sitting on her haunches, still covered in sweat, her naked body exuded sexuality. Her long, beautiful hair, though damp and in disarray from the hood, framed her face perfectly. Her full, well-shaped breasts quivered as her chest rose and fell with her breath coming in gasps from the lingering pain. Her concave stomach and deep navel drew one's gaze down to her trimmed thatch above that tempting slit. With her arms cuffed behind and her legs widespread, she appeared the perfect slave, open and inviting use and abuse.
But look in her eyes, Mamat thought to himself, and you saw the other Barbara. Yes, right now, there was terror and pain. No woman could have come from a session on the Perch only an hour ago without those emotions.
But look closely in her eyes and her expression, he thought. You could see the quiet flames of anger and defiance, rebellion, and resistance.
After the three weeks of constant pain and humiliation that had been heaped on Barb, few prisoners could muster such inner strength of will. She was indeed a remarkable woman!
But, Mamat reminded himself, his job was not to admire Moore’s willpower. He had the task to crush it and break her. His “sponsors” wanted to see the girl dragged to her death with no shred of dignity or pride left. And he had the tools to accomplish that.
“Barbara Ann Moore,” the Commandant said in a sad voice, “You seem a very slow learner. But I warn you, if you disappoint me again with my friends, I will have the guards leave you on the Perch overnight. After that, you would never walk normally again!”
Chief Inspector’s Office, Parliamentary Guards Headquarters, 11:45 AM
“Peripheral questions? Such as your interest in connecting this crime with the Barbara Moore Case?”
“You’ve got it, darling. What are your thoughts?”
“From an unbiased investigator, though one with far less experience than you, it is a stretch. We start from the remarkably great coincidence that the same CNB officer whose testimony, which you believe was perjured, was crucial to convicting Moore, should be instrumental in preventing her lawyer’s brief from getting to the Court before the deadline. Add that Rogers was also the one who arranged for him and his partner to be at the scene on Monday.”
“All facts.”
“True. However, we now run up against a set of difficult facts on the way to proving anything. One, Rogers is dead, by completely natural causes. So we cannot question him. Two, his partner, who would gladly betray his dear mother under our interrogation, nevertheless denied ever hearing of Moore or of knowledge of any ulterior motive for being in the Square. Three, if Rogers was there to run into Jones, a very plausible alternative explanation is his lust for the girl. We know he’d become excited over her last Friday. Four, there is no hard documentary evidence in any of the papers we examined in their office to make a connection. And Five, I always look for the simplest explanation available. It was a chance meeting which, due to the lust and lawlessness of Rogers, deteriorated into assault and rape.”
“Well argued and well thought out, my friend. You will make a fine detective, someday.” Frost added the last with a friendly chuckle.
“Thank you. Those words mean a lot to me, coming from you.” Musa laughed along with his new friend.
“Deserved, don’t mention it! However, there is one item that keeps me from being satisfied with all this ‘Barbara Moore isn’t involved’ explanations.”
“I think I know what that is. Or rather isn’t.”
“You got it, dickie-bird. There are no files on Moore! Not a file, not a memo, not a scrap of paper!”
Commandant’s Office, Changi Prison, Wednesday, 11:50 AM
Barb cringed at the threat of overnight on the Parrot’s Perch. She could well believe that it could cripple her for life.
“I have a new assignment for you, Moore. One you know and are very good at. You will entertain the guards this afternoon.”
Barb sat without moving. He was right; she knew well what this was. Three hours on her back being continually fucked by horny corrections officers.
“This time will be slightly different, though…”
Shit! Different always seemed to mean worse here, Barb thought.
“To avoid jealousy, you can work the shift change, one-thirty to five-thirty PM. It will give you a chance to cover both shifts and serve twice the number as last time! That might be just enough to satisfy a nymphomaniac like you.”
Twice the number! She would be so sore. And why did he have to call her a nymphomaniac? Men loved to demean any woman who enjoyed sex by implying that she had an uncontrolled, sick desire. Why weren’t most of the drooling out-of-control randy men called names? It was so unfair!
“Did you hear me, Moore? Is that satisfactory for you?”
“Yes, Sir. Very satisfactory.”
“Imran, let her rest until then. With her joints all on fire, it will be a most uncomfortable experience. And tell the men, I want no visible marks. She’s to be caned publicly in just under forty-eight hours, and she’s must look good and fresh.”
“Certainly, Commandant. I’ll make sure the men know.”
“But no need to be over gentle, either.”
Imran smiled, “Of course, Sir.”
The guards led Barbara from the office and into the hall, crawling on all fours and crying with pain at every move.
Phone Call Rut Betar Gisber to Josephine Shanmugam, 11:55 AM
RBG: Have you spoken to your friend at the CNB?
JS: Yes, your Ladyship. He will move in the next few hours to tie up that loose end.
RGB: Good, after the Appeal Court rules, I want all these distractions to be over.
JS: They will be, I assure you.
RBG: That’s what you said about Hodges brief, and that just blossomed into another distraction.
JS: That was Rogers’ fault. The pig couldn’t keep his dick in his pants.
RBG: That is the kind of thing I trust you to anticipate and control, my dear. You are the one who chose the man and assured me he was trustworthy.
JS: I knew he could keep a secret and cover his tracks.
RGB: But not capable of, as you so delicately put it, keeping ‘his dick in his pants?’
JS: I am genuinely sorry, Mama.
RBG: Just watch those things in the future. We need to get those detective bulldogs off the scent.
JS: I will take care of that tomorrow, as we discussed.
RGB: Take care you do, girl. I have to go and prepare for court.
Chief Inspector’s Office, Parliamentary Guards Headquarters, 12:02 PM
“No Moore files,” said Musa with a chuckle. “Oh, no. You mean there’s no paperwork on Moore. Didn’t I say Rogers covered his tracks well!”
“Moore files? I should never have complimented you, you little prick!”
“All right. Your point is made. Here’s Rogers, getting an anonymous phone tip from an informant in the U.S. in the state of Minnesota that Miss Moore was coming to Singapore to engage in drug trafficking, He had Moore tailed for a couple of days by multiple agents. He had her things at the hotel searched, which found additional drugs. Simultaneously he was running an inmate informant in the jail, Rose. She reported that Moore was involved in a drug ring with operations both in and out of jail. And then he suspected Moore murdered Rose after she revealed herself to Moore. Have I forgotten anything?”
“No, that the gist of it,” said Frost, impressed at Musa’s immediate recall of the entire set of facts Frost had given him over a day earlier.
“And yet, there is not a scrap of paper at the CNB documenting any of this. Not even an expense voucher for hot dogs for the surveillance team?”
“Correct.”
“That will make it difficult to validate Jimmy’s testimony if Moore gets a new trial.”
“You know, darling. I love your way with understatement.”
“But why would Jimmy testify to all that, if he had no actual evidence?”
Frost pointed up with his index finger and looked to the ceiling.
“Higher-ups wanted it. And, they could offer him protection if anyone at CNB questioned where the files were.”
“Would have to be someone very high. With long red nails, but no fingerprints?” bin Ibrahin winked.
“Precisely. However, we also haven’t seen a scrap of evidence to point a finger. And darling Jimmy ain’t talking anymore.”
“You know what puzzles like this make me want to do, Frost?”
“What, Musa?”
“Eat. How about we go grab some lunch and chew the fat as the American’s say.”
“I said you’ve got the making of a fine detective,” said Frost, grabbing his herringbone fedora.
Lima Puluh Empat
Punishment Room? Changi Prison, Wednesday, 10:01 AM
“The Commandant says you can come down from your Perch. You’ve more work to do.”
Barbara let out a faint cry of relief. In her cramped position, she could barely breathe.
“OK, You two hold her up, I’ll slip the bar out,” Imran instructed the others. Barbara felt four hands underneath lift her to take the weight off the bar. She almost sobbed with relief at the thought.
But when they did lift her, straightening her back and allowing her to breathe, sho almost immediately let out a long high intense wail of pain.
“Ah, yes, Miss Moore,” chuckled Imran as he slid the bar out, and the guards gently laid the woman on the floor. “Now that the pressure is relieved and the blood flows, your muscles and joints can hurt more. We’ll just let you scream a while.”
Chief Inspector’s Office, Parliamentary Guards Headquarters, 11:00 AM
A rather attractive and very shapely, and young female orderly poured out coffee for Frost and bin Ibrahim in the Chief Inspector’s office. Frost noticed and appreciated the shape inside her tight, uniform skirt as she bent over the desk. OK, Dickie Bird, he said to himself. You’ve proved you can still like it. Now back to work.
“Thank you, Sonya,” said Musa, adding a generous pour of heavy cream into his coffee. “I’ll buzz if I need you.” The orderly left. “She’s a gem,” he said appreciatively.
“So. We have a bit of a puzzle here,” Musa said, turning to Frost.
“Yes. Let’s see if we can untangle any of it. One question at a time.”
“Fine. Will you ask first? The Chief Inspector had grown to respect Frost’s wisdom and experience.
“Rape.” Said Frost. “Did Rogers rape Miss Jones?”
“Undoubtedly. Forensic, eyewitness, her binding, her screams. An easy call and conviction. However, he is dead. The Parliamentary Court can enter a judgment of rape. A judgment gives the victim, Miss Jones, a basis to sue the estate and official proof that it was not voluntary.”
“Good,” said Frost, with a note of satisfaction in his voice. “Did Jiang rape her?”
“He did not have actual intercourse, no penetration. Forensic and eyewitness accounts confirm that. He denies it, even under strong questioning.”
“What can he be convicted of?” asked Frost with a sigh. Both he and Musa would have loved to have convicted him of rape and seen him receive the 40 cane strokes and twenty-year sentence that came with it. But facts were facts.
“Quite a lot. Accessory to rape, attempted rape, aggravated assault and battery, and sexual assault.”
“Yes?” said Frost.
“I’d expect the Court to give him a substantial lashing and ten years at hard labor.”
“Well deserved,” said Frost. “There is no evidence of any other involved, so this wraps up our central case. What of your men who stood by and did nothing?”
“I’ve just heard from the Guard leadership. They will be dishonorably discharged from the Guard, and charged with felony depraved indifference. They’ll probably get off with a light caning. However, their careers in law enforcement and the military are over. Docked all pay and benefits. Not evil men really, just young and stupid and too easily intimidated.”
“I agree. Now let’s turn to the peripheral questions.”
Commandant’s Office, Changi Prison, Wednesday, 11:05 AM
Mamat bin Osman looked with curious interest at Barbara Moore. She was the most attractive and the most challenging inmate he had dealt with in a long while. Sitting on her haunches, still covered in sweat, her naked body exuded sexuality. Her long, beautiful hair, though damp and in disarray from the hood, framed her face perfectly. Her full, well-shaped breasts quivered as her chest rose and fell with her breath coming in gasps from the lingering pain. Her concave stomach and deep navel drew one's gaze down to her trimmed thatch above that tempting slit. With her arms cuffed behind and her legs widespread, she appeared the perfect slave, open and inviting use and abuse.
But look in her eyes, Mamat thought to himself, and you saw the other Barbara. Yes, right now, there was terror and pain. No woman could have come from a session on the Perch only an hour ago without those emotions.
But look closely in her eyes and her expression, he thought. You could see the quiet flames of anger and defiance, rebellion, and resistance.
After the three weeks of constant pain and humiliation that had been heaped on Barb, few prisoners could muster such inner strength of will. She was indeed a remarkable woman!
But, Mamat reminded himself, his job was not to admire Moore’s willpower. He had the task to crush it and break her. His “sponsors” wanted to see the girl dragged to her death with no shred of dignity or pride left. And he had the tools to accomplish that.
“Barbara Ann Moore,” the Commandant said in a sad voice, “You seem a very slow learner. But I warn you, if you disappoint me again with my friends, I will have the guards leave you on the Perch overnight. After that, you would never walk normally again!”
Chief Inspector’s Office, Parliamentary Guards Headquarters, 11:45 AM
“Peripheral questions? Such as your interest in connecting this crime with the Barbara Moore Case?”
“You’ve got it, darling. What are your thoughts?”
“From an unbiased investigator, though one with far less experience than you, it is a stretch. We start from the remarkably great coincidence that the same CNB officer whose testimony, which you believe was perjured, was crucial to convicting Moore, should be instrumental in preventing her lawyer’s brief from getting to the Court before the deadline. Add that Rogers was also the one who arranged for him and his partner to be at the scene on Monday.”
“All facts.”
“True. However, we now run up against a set of difficult facts on the way to proving anything. One, Rogers is dead, by completely natural causes. So we cannot question him. Two, his partner, who would gladly betray his dear mother under our interrogation, nevertheless denied ever hearing of Moore or of knowledge of any ulterior motive for being in the Square. Three, if Rogers was there to run into Jones, a very plausible alternative explanation is his lust for the girl. We know he’d become excited over her last Friday. Four, there is no hard documentary evidence in any of the papers we examined in their office to make a connection. And Five, I always look for the simplest explanation available. It was a chance meeting which, due to the lust and lawlessness of Rogers, deteriorated into assault and rape.”
“Well argued and well thought out, my friend. You will make a fine detective, someday.” Frost added the last with a friendly chuckle.
“Thank you. Those words mean a lot to me, coming from you.” Musa laughed along with his new friend.
“Deserved, don’t mention it! However, there is one item that keeps me from being satisfied with all this ‘Barbara Moore isn’t involved’ explanations.”
“I think I know what that is. Or rather isn’t.”
“You got it, dickie-bird. There are no files on Moore! Not a file, not a memo, not a scrap of paper!”
Commandant’s Office, Changi Prison, Wednesday, 11:50 AM
Barb cringed at the threat of overnight on the Parrot’s Perch. She could well believe that it could cripple her for life.
“I have a new assignment for you, Moore. One you know and are very good at. You will entertain the guards this afternoon.”
Barb sat without moving. He was right; she knew well what this was. Three hours on her back being continually fucked by horny corrections officers.
“This time will be slightly different, though…”
Shit! Different always seemed to mean worse here, Barb thought.
“To avoid jealousy, you can work the shift change, one-thirty to five-thirty PM. It will give you a chance to cover both shifts and serve twice the number as last time! That might be just enough to satisfy a nymphomaniac like you.”
Twice the number! She would be so sore. And why did he have to call her a nymphomaniac? Men loved to demean any woman who enjoyed sex by implying that she had an uncontrolled, sick desire. Why weren’t most of the drooling out-of-control randy men called names? It was so unfair!
“Did you hear me, Moore? Is that satisfactory for you?”
“Yes, Sir. Very satisfactory.”
“Imran, let her rest until then. With her joints all on fire, it will be a most uncomfortable experience. And tell the men, I want no visible marks. She’s to be caned publicly in just under forty-eight hours, and she’s must look good and fresh.”
“Certainly, Commandant. I’ll make sure the men know.”
“But no need to be over gentle, either.”
Imran smiled, “Of course, Sir.”
The guards led Barbara from the office and into the hall, crawling on all fours and crying with pain at every move.
Phone Call Rut Betar Gisber to Josephine Shanmugam, 11:55 AM
RBG: Have you spoken to your friend at the CNB?
JS: Yes, your Ladyship. He will move in the next few hours to tie up that loose end.
RGB: Good, after the Appeal Court rules, I want all these distractions to be over.
JS: They will be, I assure you.
RBG: That’s what you said about Hodges brief, and that just blossomed into another distraction.
JS: That was Rogers’ fault. The pig couldn’t keep his dick in his pants.
RBG: That is the kind of thing I trust you to anticipate and control, my dear. You are the one who chose the man and assured me he was trustworthy.
JS: I knew he could keep a secret and cover his tracks.
RGB: But not capable of, as you so delicately put it, keeping ‘his dick in his pants?’
JS: I am genuinely sorry, Mama.
RBG: Just watch those things in the future. We need to get those detective bulldogs off the scent.
JS: I will take care of that tomorrow, as we discussed.
RGB: Take care you do, girl. I have to go and prepare for court.
Chief Inspector’s Office, Parliamentary Guards Headquarters, 12:02 PM
“No Moore files,” said Musa with a chuckle. “Oh, no. You mean there’s no paperwork on Moore. Didn’t I say Rogers covered his tracks well!”
“Moore files? I should never have complimented you, you little prick!”
“All right. Your point is made. Here’s Rogers, getting an anonymous phone tip from an informant in the U.S. in the state of Minnesota that Miss Moore was coming to Singapore to engage in drug trafficking, He had Moore tailed for a couple of days by multiple agents. He had her things at the hotel searched, which found additional drugs. Simultaneously he was running an inmate informant in the jail, Rose. She reported that Moore was involved in a drug ring with operations both in and out of jail. And then he suspected Moore murdered Rose after she revealed herself to Moore. Have I forgotten anything?”
“No, that the gist of it,” said Frost, impressed at Musa’s immediate recall of the entire set of facts Frost had given him over a day earlier.
“And yet, there is not a scrap of paper at the CNB documenting any of this. Not even an expense voucher for hot dogs for the surveillance team?”
“Correct.”
“That will make it difficult to validate Jimmy’s testimony if Moore gets a new trial.”
“You know, darling. I love your way with understatement.”
“But why would Jimmy testify to all that, if he had no actual evidence?”
Frost pointed up with his index finger and looked to the ceiling.
“Higher-ups wanted it. And, they could offer him protection if anyone at CNB questioned where the files were.”
“Would have to be someone very high. With long red nails, but no fingerprints?” bin Ibrahin winked.
“Precisely. However, we also haven’t seen a scrap of evidence to point a finger. And darling Jimmy ain’t talking anymore.”
“You know what puzzles like this make me want to do, Frost?”
“What, Musa?”
“Eat. How about we go grab some lunch and chew the fat as the American’s say.”
“I said you’ve got the making of a fine detective,” said Frost, grabbing his herringbone fedora.
