Silent Applause

PROLOGUE

Inspector Nurzalina locks gazes with the silver-haired man. His weather-beaten features can't hide his wealth, an aura backed by the bling on his wrist. "Pleasure, Inspector," he greets, flashing a faux salute.

Nurzalina nods silently, struggling to maintain her politeness. It's remarkable how this old man exudes such confidence, showing no remorse for encountering her in such a public setting.

"I just read the newspaper," he persists.

Nurzalina nods again, growing impatient. "Mr. Ho, I've got family shopping to do. Excuse me."

"Just Jimmy, please."

Ignoring his insistence, Nurzalina sifts through vegetables, handing them to Zaleha for the cart.

"Thank you," Jimmy nods.

"For what?"

"For safeguarding my son's reputation, for safeguarding mine. Thanks for the… ahem, 'unfortunate stumble' rendition."

Nurzalina gazes at the old man with a piercing stare that could shatter glass. "I wasn't doing it for you!" With that, she nudges Zaleha to walk away, leaving Jimmy Ho behind.

ONE

Amri, a bodyguard whose bread and butter were the mayhem of concert scenes, had seen it all. From fanatics going bonkers at the sight of their idols, throwing everything from flowers to undergarments onstage, to ones who fainted dead away in pure ecstasy.

After-shows often had fans lingering about, some still sitting in a daze, others wailing to catch one more glance of their gods of music. When he heard a scream well after the most recent gig by the girl band, The Lollipop, he thought it was just another die-hard fan.

But something was off about this scream. It didn't sound like a starstruck fan, more like a person horrified out of their wits - as if they'd seen a snake or a ghost, maybe a monster.

He listened harder. The wails were now muffled sobs, ones of panic. And the voice, it belonged to a mature woman. It didn't fit the usual fan profile. And then he heard it. “Help! Somebody help!” the woman’s voice screamed.

Quick as a cat, he alerted his team on the walkie-talkie and dashed towards the source of the cry.

His hunch was correct. In the backstage VIP restroom, he found a janitor, a middle-aged woman, shivering and unable to speak. “What’s the matter?” he asked. She couldn't answer. Her trembling hand simply pointed towards the toilet.

With his heart pounding, he darted inside and the sight urged him to act immediately. "Guys! Come here! VIP toilet! Now!" He barked into his walkie-talkie.

TWO

Inspector Nurzalina crouched on the shiny restroom tiles, right next to a blood smear. Gloved fingers glided over the slick surface, her eyebrows furrowed behind her mask. The strong chemical scent of detergent stung her nose.

Her gaze fell on the janitor's wheeled cart where a bottle of Mr. Muscle stood. She rose and examined the bottle, inhaling its smell that was identical to the one overpowering the restroom. 

An initial theory formed in her mind: the victim slipped on the detergent-slicked floor, cracked his head on the toilet bowl. The bloody smudge on the porcelain seemed to back up her idea. But, she knew better than to jump to conclusions before the autopsy. 

She had just dispatched her team to transport the body for postmortem examination. A few days, and she would have solid answers. 

But for now, questions buzzed in her mind like a swarm of bees. Why was the detergent there? Safety protocol would have janitors rinse it immediately. She stood again, returning to the cleaning cart. There was a cleaning schedule that had caught her eye earlier.

The VIP restroom was to be cleaned at four-hour intervals - midnight, six in the morning, noon, and six in the evening. Witnesses placed the victim's entry to the restroom around eleven. The timing didn't make sense. If the janitors cleaned as scheduled, any detergent would've dried by then. But the residue on the tiles was still fresh, implying it had been applied well after the last cleaning slot.

The puzzle pieces weren't fitting. Was it an orchestrated murder? If so, why? The motives were numerous - jealousy, resentment. All plausible given the victim's high profile. He wasn't any ordinary man, but Kelvin Ho, heir to LKR Entertainment, the company managing The Lollipop.

Nurzalina jotted down her thoughts in a notebook, stepping out of the restroom and moving through the litter-strewn TAR Auditorium - abandoned plastic cups and confetti, remnants of The Lollipop's frenzied fans. She watched as janitors set about cleaning up, the aftermath of a night that had turned deadly.

THREE

The TV screen buzzed with a flurry of reporters, their cameras clicking and flashing, their faces hidden. Four figures dominated the frame - The Lollipop's members, Nina, Joy, Eve, and Rin. Youthful and striking, their skin seemed unnaturally flawless. Inspector Nurzalina wondered if their radiant complexions were due to makeup or cosmetic surgeries. Pop idols and cosmetic enhancements were no strangers after all.

Joy, the apparent leader of the band, began speaking, "We're heartbroken over Mr. Kelvin Ho's loss. He was good to us, always looking after our careers." The other members' faces glistened with tears as they dabbed their eyes with tissues.

Another wave of reporter shouts and camera flashes followed Joy's statement. The press conference's moderator, a man in a suit and heavily gelled hair, leaned into the microphone. "Thank you, everyone. That's all for now."

The Lollipop left the conference, walking away from the table and disappearing from the screen. Nurzalina watched as the view shifted to a reporter standing outside the hotel where the conference was held. She turned off the TV, her attention shifting to her daughter, Zaleha, studying at the dining table.

"Sweetheart, I need your help," Nurzalina called out.

"What do you need, Ma?" Zaleha replied.

Looking at the wall clock, Nurzalina said, "In a bit, someone will upload The Lollipop's press conference on YouTube. Can you find it for me?"

"Sure. But why?"

Nurzalina adjusted her nametag in the mirror and began tying her boots. "Just do it," she said, heading out the door.

Zaleha nodded, turning her attention back to her homework. 

Suddenly, the door swung open again, "And make sure you download it, alright? Bye, love you."

"Okay, Ma. Love you too." 

FOUR

"What?" Inspector Nurzalina questioned Dr. Hisham, the man tasked with examining Kelvin Ho's body.

"It's complex."

"It seems so. Run it by me again?" 

Dr. Hisham handed her a sheet with the detailed autopsy findings. "The victim suffered a fractured skull. You can see the damage on the X-ray attached in the report."

"But TBI didn't cause his death?" 

"No," Dr. Hisham continued. "We found traces of arsenic in his blood, likely from rat poison. It seems he ingested it a few hours before his visit to the restroom. As the poison took effect, he likely felt the urge to vomit, hence his trip to the toilet."

Nurzalina observed him closely as he explained further. "Unfortunately, he slipped on the slick floor, hit his head on the toilet bowl. When I inspected his mouth, I found vomit lodged in his throat. It seems he was on the verge of throwing up when he fell."

"So, he choked and..."

"Exactly," Dr. Hisham confirmed. "He fell unconscious, the vomit blocking his airways, and suffocated."

Nurzalina looked over the autopsy report one more time, her eyes tracing the detailed findings. She nodded, turning back to Dr. Hisham. "Thank you, doctor," she said, leaving the autopsy room. The cold metallic table, the illuminated X-ray screen, and the rows of medical equipment were left in silence as her boots clicked against the floor, echoing in the empty room.

FIVE

Inspector Nurzalina had more work to do on Kelvin Ho's case. The autopsy hinted at foul play. Her boots, along with those of three constables, echoed disjointedly in the hollow expanse of the TAR Auditorium. The police had commanded the place to be closed and preserved as a crime scene.

Discarded cups and confetti no longer littered the floor. Janitors had scooped up the remnants and stowed them in hefty black bags, lined up neatly around the auditorium's edges. Everything had to be preserved - the police order had been explicit. Any small thing could serve as the key to solving Kelvin Ho's mystery.

"What's the next step, Madam?" Constable Imran broke the silence. His voice resonated in the empty auditorium.

"We're off to the security room first," Nurzalina said. "We need to review the CCTV footage. Imran, you've shown a knack for that before. You'll handle it."

Imran's energetic "Yes, Madam!" rebounded around the auditorium.

Nurzalina chuckled. "Calm down. I can see your excitement." Imran's face flushed, and Nurzalina turned to the other two constables, Mudin and Jamal. "Listen up, Mudin and Jamal. The autopsy shows Mr Kelvin Ho drank watermelon juice before he died. A witness saw him with a white tumbler with his initials, KH. It may have been thrown away by a janitor. Find the tumbler, get your fingerprint tools ready, and search carefully. Time is crucial."

"Yes, Madam."

"As for me," Nurzalina continued, "I'm going to revisit the VIP restroom. There may be clues we missed the first time around."

SIX

Inspector Nurzalina sat at the helm of her car, poring over sheets of paper. She'd studied them time and again, but she felt the urge to go over the details one last time before moving on. It had been a fortnight since she'd set foot in the TAR Auditorium, and all this while, The Lollipop had been engaged in their nation-wide concert tour.

They were wrapping up their tour tonight at the KLFA Stadium, some 75 kilometers from her home. The journey had been long and wearisome, but duty called. The job always had to come first, no matter the distance or exhaustion.

Her dashboard clock glowed 9 pm, indicating that The Lollipop's grand finale concert would conclude in an hour. Taking advantage of this interlude, she immersed herself in the facts once more, planning out her line of questioning for the band members.

***

As she reviewed her notes, the sharp blast of her phone alarm shook her. A quick glance at her car clock showed it was 10.40pm. 

She knew better than to try to brave the crowd just yet. The Lollipop's fans were still swarming, making it pointless to enter the stadium now. So she waited, watching as the flood of people began to ebb away.

When she was certain the stadium had emptied a bit, she gathered her things, switched off her car, and stepped out. She made her way towards the entrance, her notepad and stack of papers gripped tightly in hand.

Passing the remnants of the crowd - empty cups and scattered confetti - was like walking through a ghost of the event. Thousands of fans had been here just moments before, their presence still echoing around her.

***

"Fantastic job, ladies!" A man with skin so white it seemed to shine spoke. Nurzalina took him in, wondering who he could be. A makeup artist? Maybe a choreographer? 

"Whoopee!" The one Nurzalina recognized as Eve responded. She'd memorized their faces and names: Nina, Joy, Eve, Rin. Zaleha had been a big help in distinguishing the four seemingly identical members. "Never slept better in our lives!"

Bounding over to the girls, the man enveloped them in an exuberant group hug. "Ladies, brace yourselves," he chirped. Nurzalina held back an eyeroll at his theatrics. "This is Inspector Nurzalina, who's investigating Mr. Kelvin Ho's death."

At this, the girls whirled around, startled. They'd been too wrapped up in their excitement to notice her.

"Oh, hello, ma'am," Joy addressed her. "What do you need to know?"

"Quite a lot," Nurzalina answered, keeping her tone cordial. "Shall we find somewhere more suitable first?"

"Sure," Joy replied, leading the inspector down a narrow, dimly lit hallway backstage to a door marked 'CHANGING ROOM.' 

Nurzalina blinked as her eyes adjusted to the bright lights reflected off the many mirrors lining the room, a stark change from the corridor's dimness.

"Please, sit," Joy offered, motioning to a single-seat sofa. The four band members settled onto a nearby loveseat.

Setting her papers on the coffee table, Nurzalina drew a breath, studying the tense faces of The Lollipop members before starting. "Okay. Let's start again. I'm Inspector Nurzalina from the Semban Police Station, and I have several questions for you all regarding Mr. Kelvin Ho's death." She pointed at her papers. "This is the evidence collected so far in the investigation, which has led me to you."

The four girls exchanged glances, a swirl of emotions clear in their eyes – nervousness, solemnity, sadness, but above all, nerves.

"Okay, here's the rundown on Kelvin Ho's case," Nurzalina started. "On the night of May 31, 2023, a janitor found Mr. Ho's body in the VIP restroom at TAR Auditorium. The autopsy report showed he drank watermelon juice spiked with arsenic, a common ingredient in rat poison." The group lowered their heads, observing a moment of silence.

"We've checked out Mr. Ho's glass and sifted through some security footage from the venue." She rummaged through her papers, drawing out a sheet. Turning to Rin, she asked, "Is this you, Miss Rin?"

Glancing at the grainy image, obviously zoomed in to highlight one person, Rin recognized herself immediately. She gave a meek look to her friends, seemingly unsure of her next move. It was Joy who reached out, a reassuring squeeze on Rin's shoulder, giving her the courage she needed. "Yes, Ma'am," Rin confirmed, facing Nurzalina.

Nurzalina nodded. "Thought so. The woman in this photo is wearing exactly what you had on that day." She held Rin's gaze, pressing on, "So you're confessing to drugging Mr. Ho's drink?"

Rin nodded, surprising Nurzalina who had expected some form of denial. It seemed Rin was prepared to admit her part. With a heavy sigh, Nurzalina turned to Nina. "Miss Nina, we tested a cleaning detergent from TAR Auditorium and found a fingerprint match. One of them is yours."

Nina's response was rapid blinking, a twisted expression, and then tears, landing on her lap like tiny raindrops.

Unfazed, Nurzalina asked, "Did you intentionally pour that detergent on the floor, causing Mr. Ho to slip?"

With her head still down, Nina gave a nod.

"But I'm curious. Weren't you on stage performing?"

"I wasn't performing then. They were," she stuttered between sobs.

"Is this true?" The other three nodded. Studying each face, Nurzalina noticed Joy seemed the most composed. She felt compelled to address her next. "Miss Joy, care to explain this eager confession? Understand that Nina and Rin face capital punishment under Section 302, right?"

"I planned everything," Joy admitted evenly.

Nurzalina stayed silent, allowing her the space to elaborate. 

Joy took a deep breath, her gaze sweeping over the other girls. With tender affection, she gestured for them to join hands. Nurzalina observed in silence as they gathered closely, their hands forming a stack on Joy's lap, a symbol of unity and connection.

SEVEN

Fury stormed within her. Inspector Nurzalina had seen it, clear as day, when she looked at those four girls during the press conference. Their sorrow was different. It wasn't grief for a lost loved one. 

Their sadness was a complex tapestry, a hundred threads woven into one, but the pattern on the surface told a tale of regret. They were mourning not for a loss, but for not acting sooner. 

At this point, integrity took a backseat. She had a job to do, and she was damn well going to do it.

EPILOGUE

28 May 2023

The piercing sound of Eve's cries echoed through the bathroom, jolting the three girls to attention. It was a cry unlike any they had heard before, one that seemed to emanate from the depths of her soul. It tore through the air, as if a fragment of herself had been cruelly torn away.

"Eve... Eve..." Nina's voice trembled as she rapped on the bathroom door, her companions, Joy and Rin, standing steadfastly beside her. Confusion etched itself onto Joy's features, for she could not fathom the nature of Eve's torment that had inflicted such profound pain.

"Eve, please, open the door," Nina pleaded.

Rin tried to intercede, uniting her own knocks with Nina's. "Eve, are you alright?"

Eve's mournful wails continued, intermingling with the rush of water from the shower. And then, as if the floodgates had opened, Nina and Rin succumbed to tears themselves. Shocked and slightly panicked, Joy grasped Nina's shoulders firmly, compelling her to meet her gaze. "Tell me this isn't—"

But before Joy could finish her sentence, torrents of sorrow erupted from Nina's lips, harmonizing with Eve's cries. In this moment of overwhelming emotions, Rin's face twisted with anguish. Joy noticed that Rin's wailing differed from that of Nina and Eve; it was a silent, tormented sobbing, punctuated only by gasping breaths.

Fury surged through Joy, prompting her to scream, "Enough! Stop it!"

At that moment, the bathroom door creaked open revealing Eve, draped in a towel. The visible areas of her body - her chest, her arms, her legs - bore the crimson marks of vigorous scrubbing in the shower. They all recognized those marks, for they had endured them before. Yes, even Joy.

Joy's gaze shifted from one friend to another, her love for them overflowing. They were more than mere teammates; they were like her younger sisters. Though she struggled to maintain her composure, her resolve finally crumbled under the weight of her own sobs.

Caught in the frenzy of the moment, the four of them embraced one another, their tears flowing in unison like a chorus of wounded children. And it was all because of that one malevolent creature of a man—the very embodiment of evil—who had devoured their dignity as if they were morsels of meat, satisfying his carnal cravings.

In their hearts, they knew he was no mere mortal; he was a beast, a devil. As the minutes ticked by and tranquility gradually settled within them, their determination to deliver his just deserts burned unwaveringly.