The vice consulate
Cops raid gambling den in Senegal Consulate
8 S'poreans among 31 nabbed
23 charged with operating illegal gambling den
About $80,000 in cash seized
FINGER on the buzzer, the plainclothes policeman ignored calls from
the other side of the door to identify himself.
He and his fellow officer were not about to blow their cover, not
when they were about to do something unprecedented: bust the
premises of a foreign mission.
Nearby, in a lift on the top floor of Lau's Arcadia building, a
group of policemen stood by, out of sight of a closed-circuit
television camera.
The metal gate had been left open, leaving only the wooden door
barring entry. All it took was a good shove to break into the
Senegal Consulate.
Business conducted inside on Friday evening was hardly diplomatic.
A mixed bag of men and women were thwarted mid-game, playing cards
in hand and chips on the baccarat table.
They did not resist, sitting or squatting pliantly as police
searched the air-conditioned premises.
Thirty-one people were rounded up, including 23 who are suspected
to be part of the den's operations. The 23, a mix of Indonesians
and Malaysians, were charged in court yesterday with operating an
illegal gambling den, an offence for which they can be fined up to
$50,000, jailed up to three years, or both.
The other eight are Singaporeans believed to be gamblers. They are
out on bail.
Among those nabbed was a man with a full head of grey hair,
believed to be the den's chief.
He appeared to be someone of consequence; a framed photograph of
him sitting next to a man of African origin hung on a wall near the
well-furnished consulate reception area.
But the facade of a consulate with its dark sofas, plasma
television set and even a golfing putting mat laid out for
visitors, disintegrates quickly.
Venture further in and there are three meeting rooms with
semi-circular baccarat tables, swivel chairs and ashtrays. A
noxious combination of cigarette smoke and powerful air freshener
pervades the air.
A fourth room looked to be living quarters, with mattresses and
pillows on the floor and a rack of men's clothes.
An attached bathroom was stocked with toiletries. Further evidence
of a well-run den: a well-stocked pantry with cartons of Coke,
jasmine green tea and mineral water. Fruits were found too, which
are served only to high-rollers.
Police discovered two metal safes filled with $2, $10 and $50
bills. In all, they recovered about $80,000. There was the usual
gambling paraphernalia - chips of different colours and cartons of
playing cards.
Investigations by The Straits Times earlier last week found that a
minimum bet was $100 and the maximum $30,000. The den also extended
credit of up to $50,000 to high rollers.
While some of those arrested were shocked to tears, others cursed
their bad luck.
After they were escorted out of the five-storey building in East
Coast Road, one man, who looked to be in his early 30s, told
another that this was the first time he had been caught in an
underground gambling den.
'I usually gamble when I go on cruises with friends. Illegal dens
are not worth the risk,' he said in Hokkien.
He jokingly asked if the bust meant he still needed to repay the
money he owed the operators.
'Still must return,' the other man replied. Clearly, given the
den's claim of having 300 or so regulars, there were many who got
away.
Investigations earlier last week showed that as many as 100 punters
could pack the premises late at night.
News of the raid spread quickly among the network of gamblers and
operators.
A regular punter told The Straits Times he had received a call from
a den operator the same night, advising him to stay away.
While the police were gathering evidence from within the consulate,
men and women in expensive cars were seen in the side road, Chapel
Close, which leads to the building.
They quickly did a U-turn and left, peering anxiously out of their
cars, when they noticed a lot of people standing around.
It seemed that the syndicate had been aggressively recruiting new
clients in the area since the consulate office moved from a
shophouse unit in East Coast Road to Lau's Arcadia last
month.
Regular diners at a nearby coffeeshop told The Straits Times that
they had been approached by young men and women to gamble at the
den, although they did not know it was a consulate office.
Often too, men would come to order bottles of beer to take back up
the building.
When told about the raid, an employee at a lighting shop at Lau's
Arcadia said: 'There's been some unfamiliar people going up the
building in the past few weeks.
'Many of them look fierce. But there were also some young and
pretty ladies.'
Mr Lionel De Souza, a retired police detective with more than 25
years of experience, has come across gambling set-ups in remote pig
farms, cemeteries and Chinese funeral wakes, but never one in a
diplomat's office.
'They must have been very sure they had immunity from arrest,' he
said.
Those arrested were later led to a waiting police bus, shielding
their faces from passers-by who had stopped to gawk.
But not all of them were mere onlookers - some were spotted
exchanging waves with those arrested. They walked away briskly when
The Straits Times approached them, and were seen making calls on
their mobile phones.
As police were carting off evidence, a few yellow amulets were
found pasted on the underside of the baccarrat table from the 'VIP'
gaming room.
For the den operators, it was clear the paper charms did not bring
any luck at all.
Copyright © 2006 Singapore Press Holdings Ltd.
