Tell us something we don't know. No, not that we are getting slipshod services at our police stations. That we know. Or that the 14-day remand period has been frequently abused by the police. That, too, we know.

Indeed, had the police royal commission done its homework, it would have known that Suhakam had highlighted these problems ... er ... well, two years ago.

The commission need not trudge through the same old grounds. All it has to do is tell the government to listen to Suhakam. Simple.

If this were to be, what then would be the focus of the police commission's 17 men and women?

True, it is important to improve the service counters in our police stations, but what we really want to know is why under-the-counter payments continue unabated in the force.

We also want to know how many had been killed in police shootings and how many had died in custody, and why . We want to know about the torture of suspects. We want to know who are responsible for such crimes.

Put simply, we want to know whether there are indeed Abu Ghraib-style abuses in our lock-ups and prisons.

Protection racket

After having completed four months of its year-long probe, the police royal commission - which moved into a spanking new office today - has precious little to say about such key issues confronting the police force.

Granted, it is difficult for the commission to tread into such sensitive areas. After all, the police have been protected by the ruling politicians for decades. They are above the law. No, they are the law.

No wonder then when some NGOs had sought to organise their own version of a 'royal commission' eight years ago - called the people's tribunal - the police and the government were livid. Mooting such an idea then was heresy.

Ex-prime minister Dr Mahathir Mohamad, then also home minister, threatened to use the Internal Security Act against the organisers. They had asked for it, he charged.

His minions - deputy home ministers Megat Junid Megat Ayub and Ong Ka Ting, and police chief Abdul Rahim Noor - followed suit. They hurled colourful invectives at the NGO activists, among them they being 'Marxists' and the all-too-familiar 'foreign stooges'.

True to form, the government-controlled media joined the attack, Pavlov-style. Faced with such dire threats, this 'royal commission' was eventually called off.

With that, it was back to business as usual for the police. They went on to crack more than a few heads at the reformasi demonstrations two years later.

And Abdul Rahim? He gave Anwar Ibrahim - once the country's second-most powerful man - the infamous black eye.

As expected, the police initially failed to nab the culprit. Eventually, the government was forced to set up, yes, a royal commission. While the police took months to investigate the incident - and emerge empty-handed - it took the commission no more than 10 days to nail Abdul Rahim.

Back to business, too, for immigration detention camps. Confronted with charges of brutality against the detainees, the police hauled the whistleblower - Tenaganita director Irene Fernandez - to court. After a lengthy seven-year trial, Irene was found guilty of spreading 'false news' against the force.

Umno Youth mob

For the protection they get from their political masters, the police likewise return the favour in kind. So it wasn't surprising that the people who went on a riot in 1996 were not reformasi protestors but Umno Youth members.

In November that year, a 400-strong mob led by Umno Youth violently disrupted Apcet II - an international meeting in Kuala Lumpur to discuss peace in then Indonesia's troubled province of East Timor.

The police arrested 113 people - 47 foreigners, 59 Malaysians and seven of the mob who stormed the meeting. The conference's foreign delegates were swiftly deported while the Malaysians were detained.

Most of the detained Malaysians were remanded for four days. When their time was up, the police asked for another seven days - they needed the extra time to investigate the case, they told the court.

The magistrate rubber stamped the request, but the detainees challenged the decision in the higher court. They argued that the extension was not for further investigation, but as a punishment meted out by police. After all, they said, the police did not make any real attempt to question them during the first four days.

The High Court judge who heard the appeal ordered the police to show proof that they indeed needed the additional week for their investigation. They were told to furnish the police station's log book which specified the days and times the suspects were taken out of their cells for questioning.

A short adjournment was granted for the book to be fetched. In the afternoon, when the court resumed, the police failed to produce the crucial document. The judge immediately ordered the release of the detainees.

Then and now

That was 1996. The judge who heard the case was KC Vohrah, now a Suhakam commissioner.

Last year, after seven years, former chief justice Dzaiddin Abdullah ( photo )- knowing full well that Vohrah's example was not very popular with his colleagues - issued a directive suggesting that judges be more judicious in granting detention orders.

Today, Dzaiddin is the head of the police royal commission, and he is still quibbling over the remand issue.

What can we say? Seasons change, but some things don't.