Sherlock Sam and the Mysterious Mastermind in Seoul

by A. J. Low

  Both Watson and Moran were very happy to be back in their own bodies, but Moran had informed us that this was his last adventure with us as a full-time detective. He wanted to devote himself to becoming a chef, and to spend as much time as possible learning from Auntie Kim Lian and Auntie Gina. He said we could still call on him for emergencies, but otherwise his adventuring days were done. We were sad, of course, but we understood. Not everyone’s dream is to be a detective and that’s totally okay. Plus, I’ll get to eat more delicious food when I visit Jimmy and his family.

  Watson was back to being his grumpy self and I wouldn’t have had it any other way. The two of us had started watching old episodes of the hilarious variety show Running Man thanks to the recommendation of Ha Na, the girl formerly known as Bok Joo. She said that was where she got a lot of her ideas for the games she made us play. We were Instanoodlegram friends, and I introduced her to Chihiyo and Luis, who were both also on Instanoodlegram, and were going to visit Seoul in the near future. At the start, Ha Na was very reserved, but Chihiyo’s addiction to Korean variety shows and Luis’ love of food soon had her chatting with them as if they had known each other all their lives. They were already making plans to meet up! I was a bit sad that Ha Na was posting so many photos of delicious Korean food that I had not had a chance to eat, especially all the wonderful food in Myeongdong.

  We had turned an adversary into a friend, and that was a huge win—bigger even than solving a mystery. Of course, James Mok was back in Singapore where his parents could keep a closer eye on him, and he could start acting up at any time, but even that couldn’t put a damper on my spirits. If he masterminded some other nefarious crime, we would stop him, like we had twice before.

  We would miss Moran on our adventures, but I was very excited for the Supper Club’s future.

  I was certain that, as long as we continued to work together as a team, we could do anything (and eat a lot more food that I could alone).

  We'd been thinking about writing this story for a while now, but it never seemed like the right time. However, the conclusion of the Battle of the Brains duology gave our characters a bit of time to slow down as they didn’t have to worry about any huge mysteries. It shows that Sherlock Sam can’t pay attention to every mystery, even when it concerns him directly. It also features some cameos by younger versions of some of our favourite Singaporean poets. This story takes place after the Battle of the Brains duology.

  “I really don’t get it,” I said.

  “I don’t either,” Nazhar said. “It’s pretty weird.”

  “Maybe you’re a lot more popular than I thought,” Eliza said. “Like, a lot more.”

  “He’s Singapore’s Greatest Kid Detective!” Jimmy said. “Of course he’s popular!”

  “I-am-more-surprised-that-this-somehow-made-you-stop-eating-your-chicken-wings,” Watson said. Reminded about what I had originally been doing, I lifted my chicken wing from my plate full of chicken wings and took a quick bite, but continued to be confused by the package.

  “I don’t know what to tell you, Sam,” Wendy said, “except that I am tired of being your personal delivery service. I’m not bringing you any more gifts from your adoring fans.”

  We were sitting in our school’s canteen and Wendy had just brought yet another gift from another student at the school. I had been receiving a lot of presents this past week from various students for supposedly helping them with mysteries I had no recollection of ever solving.

  “This note says: ‘Thank you for your help in finding my dad’s watch. It was totally at my auntie’s house in Woodlands, like you said,’” Nazhar read out.

  “The Case of the Wandering Watch in Woodlands!” Jimmy said.

  “I haven’t been to Woodlands in months,” I said, waving my chicken wing around.

  “What did you get this time?” Eliza asked.

  “Whatever it is, I can’t accept it,” I said. “I didn’t solve this case. I didn’t even know this case existed.”

  “It looks like some vouchers to Din Tai Fung,” Wendy said.

  “Really?” I said. Interesting.

  “Yep, too bad you can’t accept them,” Wendy said with a smirk. “I’ll take them back to Pooja.”

  “Maybe I was too hasty before…”

  “Cher Lock, if you didn’t help this girl out with her problem, then you shouldn’t be accepting a reward for it,” Wendy said. She really sounded like Mom sometimes.

  “You don’t even accept rewards when you actually solve a case,” Nazhar said.

  “Which-is-impractical,” Watson said. “You-should-be-charging-for-your-services. We-should-be-charging-for-our-services.”

  “You’re right, Wendy,” I said, glaring at my robot. “I was momentarily blinded by thoughts of xiao long bao. Let me return this to Pooja so I can ask her what’s going on.”

  “Well, have fun solving this particular mystery without us,” Eliza said. “We have to go to our coding class now.”

  “Oh! I almost forgot!” Nazhar said, sighing deeply. “And here I thought I had to do more studying for the PSLE today.”

  “Don’t worry, we’ll do that after class,” Wendy said. Nazhar groaned.

  “You guys have so many classes! When do you have time to study?” Jimmy said.

  “You’ll find out next year,” Eliza said, smiling. She waved goodbye to us and the three of them walked off, but not before Wendy turned and yelled, “If I find out you didn’t take those back to Pooja!”

  “I’m going right now!” I shouted back.

  Watson, Jimmy and I walked towards Pooja’s classroom.

  “Do you think someone is impersonating you and solving all these cases?” Jimmy asked.

  “That-is-ridiculous,” Watson said. “Who-would-want-to-pretend-to-be-Sherlock?”

  “Is he solving mysteries in his sleep, then?” Jimmy asked, wide-eyed. “Is he sleep-solving?”

  “Watson would notice if I suddenly got up in the middle of the night to go to Woodlands and solve a mystery,” I said.

  “Not-really,” Watson said. “I-am-a-very-heavy-sleeper.”

  “You don’t sleep, Watson,” I said. “You read Batman comics in your pyjamas all night long after consuming your used batteries.”

  “I wish I could read comics all night long,” Jimmy said. “But Mama says it’s not good for children to sleep less than eight hours a night. She makes all of us go to sleep at 9pm, even Moran.”

  “I-do-other-things-too,” Watson said. “I-have-a-very-fulfilling-life-that-you-know-nothing-about.”

  We caught up with Pooja as she was packing her school bag.

  “Oh, Sherlock! Hello!” Pooja said. “Did you get the gift I sent?”

  “Yes, I did, that’s actually what I came to talk to you about,” I said. “I can’t accept it.”

  “Oh.” Pooja looked a bit disappointed. “I know you like those dumplings a lot so I thought you’d like the vouchers.”

  “I appreciate them very much,” I said quickly. “It’s a very thoughtful gift, but I can’t accept it because I didn’t actually help you solve any mystery.”

  “Huh? Of course you did,” Pooja said. “My dad’s watch was exactly where you said it was.”

  “But that’s the thing,” I said. “I didn’t help you find your dad’s watch. The first time I heard about your dad’s watch was when I read your thank you note.”

  Pooja looked confusedly at Jimmy and Watson. She suddenly sat down at her desk and started rummaging through her bag.

  We gathered around her as she pulled a piece of paper out of her bag and held it triumphantly in the air.

  “What’s that?” I asked.

  “Proof!” Pooja said.

  She handed me the piece of paper. It was a printout of a chat she had with someone called “SherlockSam53”. The portion of the chat Pooja had printed out was instructions on how to find the watch. “SherlockSam53”, whoever they were, was using an avatar that looked like me but was wearing some really weird
looking clothing.

  “Why I am dressed like that?!” The Sherlock avatar looked like he was an uncle from the 1960s. He was wearing an orange button-up shirt with a floral print, black shorts and a pair of white socks that reached the middle of his calves. He even had a curry-puff hairstyle that used to be very popular back then.

  “Yeah, I thought you looked a bit funny, but cute,” Pooja said. “And I was just happy that you were helping me.”

  “But that isn’t Sherlock,” Jimmy said. “He doesn’t dress like a very short 60-year-old uncle. And his chat name is SGSherlock.”

  “Did you ever meet, uh, me in person?” I asked.

  “No, it was all through chat,” Pooja said. “I told you what was happening, and then you asked me when my dad last remembered seeing his watch, and then you asked when did he realise his watch was missing, and then you asked what he was doing between those two times, and then you figured out where his watch was.”

  “Wow, someone really is impersonating you,” Jimmy said. “And they’re really good at solving mysteries too!”

  “Well-mystery-solved,” Watson said. “Let-us-go-home.”

  “Wait, this really wasn’t you?” Pooja asked looking at me then back down at the sheet of paper.

  “Yah, it really wasn’t,” I said, ignoring Watson. “But it seems you weren’t the only person this SherlockSam53 helped.”

  “Oh, definitely not,” Pooja said. “The only reason I asked you for help was because you’d been helping many other people out too.”

  “How did you find out about this…help service?” I asked.

  “Tania and Cyril showed me,” Pooja said. “You helped them find some missing library books they had misplaced. You figured out they were at the Clementi 448 Food Centre.”

  “The Case of the Lost Library Books in Clementi!” Jimmy said.

  “Yah, I think they were one of the first to send me a gift,” I said.

  “Do you want to talk to them?” Pooja asked. “I’m supposed to meet them at the bus stop.”

  “It-is-not-necessary,” Watson said. “We-need-to-get-home.”

  “No, we don’t, Watson,” I said. “Dad’s coming to pick us up so we can go pick up dinner.”

  “Oh. I-forgot.”

  Jimmy and I followed Pooja to the bus stop, and Watson reluctantly trailed after us. We met up with Tania and Cyril.

  “Hey, Pooja!” Tania exclaimed, waving. “Oh! Sherlock’s here too!”

  “Hi Jimmy! Hi Watson!” Cyril said, waving. “Thanks for helping us find our library books last week!”

  “Yeah, thank you so much,” Tania said. “But why did you send our gift back?”

  “It turns out it wasn’t him,” Pooja said. “SherlockSam53 isn’t Sherlock!”

  “Yes, I couldn’t accept your gift because I hadn’t done anything to earn it,” I said. “Somebody else helped you find your library books.”

  “Oh wow. Really?” Cyril said.

  “Why would someone pretend to be you to help other people?” Tania asked.

  “I would really like to ask them that myself,” I said. “That’s why I’m trying to figure out who they are.”

  “You-are-trying-to-unmask-this-virtuous-person?” Watson asked. “They-are-clearly-just-trying-to-help-people-while-remaining-anonymous.”

  “But they’re pretending to be me, Watson,” I said. “It would be one thing if they were just being an anonymous do-gooder, like the Dark Defender—but no, they’re pretending to be me, and I can’t have that.”

  “Maybe they’re even wearing a Sherlock mask to further hide their identity!” Jimmy said.

  “How did you find SherlockSam53?” I asked Tania and Cyril.

  “Oh, it was very easy,” Cyril said. “You sent us a message saying that if we had any mysteries to solve, to just ask you.”

  “I think you sent it to most of the kids in school,” Tania said. “But you sent it in the middle of the night, so I didn’t see it until I woke up in the morning.”

  “Yeah, when we saw it, we immediately contacted you,” Cyril said. “Or, I guess we immediately contacted whoever SherlockSam53 is.”

  “Thank you so much for letting me know,” I said. “And I’m glad your mysteries were all solved. I just wish I had actually solved them. Pooja, do you mind if I keep your print-out?”

  “Not at all,” she said.

  We waved goodbye and Jimmy, Watson and I went back to the school parking lot to wait for Dad.

  “The message was sent in the middle of the night,” I said. “That’s really weird.”

  “Are you sure you’re not sleep-solving?” Jimmy asked.

  “Yes, I’m pretty sure,” I said. “And anyway, I haven’t had a lot of time to solve any mysteries since we came back from Seoul. I’ve been helping Wendy, Nazhar and Eliza study for their PSLEs. It really couldn’t have been me.”

  “I-still-think-it-is-not-important-to-find-out-who-is-doing-this-when-all-they-are-doing-is-helping-people,” Watson said.

  “What is with you today?” I asked. “I know you don’t generally like to help, but you don’t usually hinder me either.”

  “I-just-think-that-if-someone-is-helping-people-we-should-let-them,” Watson said, crossing his arms.

  At that moment, Dad pulled up in the space wagon. “All aboard the chicken wing and carrot cake express!” he shouted through the window.

  We climbed into the car, and then Dad asked, “Where are the others?”

  “Wendy, Nazhar and Eliza are at their coding class,” Jimmy said. “They’re learning how to make video games and websites!”

  “Mom’s going to pick them up later,” I said.

  “Oh, right,” Dad said. “I forgot. Well, who’s ready for dinner?”

  Jimmy and I cheered. Watson just sat down with his arms crossed.

  ∗ ∗ ∗

  After dinner, Jimmy and I went in my room and tried to chat with SherlockSam53, but they wouldn’t answer. I tried it with my SGSherlock account, and then Jimmy tried it with his JimmyJimmyBoBimmy account. I tried to get Watson to help out by logging in with his WatsonHatesWater account, but he refused. He got into his pyjamas way before bedtime and sat quietly in the corner of the room. Something was up with Watson, and whatever that was took precedence.

  I was going to go talk to Watson when I heard Mom calling. “We’re home!” from the living room.

  Watson immediately got up and left our room.

  “Is he okay?” Jimmy asked.

  “I don’t think so,” I said.

  Wendy, Nazhar and Eliza came into my room.

  “What’s wrong with Watson?” Eliza asked. Jimmy shrugged his shoulders.

  “Yeah, he just went and hugged Mom, and wouldn’t let go,” Wendy said, putting her bag down.

  “Your mom shooed us into the room so she could talk to him,” Nazhar said, picking up the printout of Pooja’s chat from my desk. “Is this supposed to be you?”

  “Yeah,” I said. “That SherlockSam53 person is pretending to be me and solving mysteries.”

  “‘SherlockSam53’?” Wendy said. “Let me see that.”

  She crossed the room and took the printout from Nazhar. “This is my project,” she said.

  “What?” I said.

  “Yeah, this was one of the first projects I had to do for our coding class.” Wendy passed the printout to Eliza. “Remember?”

  “Oh yeah, the chatbot,” Eliza said. “We were supposed to design a simple chatbot based on someone we knew. I used Jimmy, Nazhar used his dad, and Wendy used you. We just had to programme some likely answers our subjects would give to a few simple questions.”

  “We did this way before we went to London, though,” Nazhar said.

  “And why do I look like that?” I asked. “I’ve never dressed like that in my life.”

  “Are you kidding, Sam?” Wendy said. “You used to love dressing like Ah Kong. Mom and Dad had to convince you to stop when you were, like, five because it was impossible to find uncle c
lothes for someone so short. I just thought it would be funny to draw you dressed like that.”

  I suddenly had a flashback of Ah Kong holding my hand. I remembered feeling very happy that we were dressed like twins. I guess I did used to wear clothes like that.

  “So, you’ve been pretending to be me and solving mysteries for people?” I asked.

  “When would I find the time, Sherlock?” Wendy asked. “I turned this Sherlockbot project in ages ago and then forgot all about it.”

  “I just remember needing Watson’s help,” Nazhar said. “Some of the coding was giving me problems.”

  “Yeah, me too,” Eliza said.

  “Me too,” Wendy said.

  Of course that was the answer.

  “I’ll be right back, guys,” I said.

  I walked out into the living room where Watson and Mom were seated next to each other on the couch. Dad was just standing around, looking really confused.

  “I think you need to talk to your brother,” Mom said. I’m still not sure which one of us she was talking to, but she disentangled herself from Watson and walked into the master bedroom. She came out a few seconds later and pulled Dad in after her.

  “I-assume-Wendy-gave-you-the-final-piece-of-the-puzzle,” Watson said.

  “Yah, she did,” I said. “Why didn’t you just tell me?”

  Watson sighed. “At-first-I-wanted-to-make-sure-it-worked. I-had-figured-out-a-way-for-you-to-help-people-even-when-you-were-busy-and-I-wanted-to-test-it-out-before-I-surprised-you-with-it. But-then-today-you-seemed-upset-that-someone-was-pretending-to-be-you-so-I-became-afraid-you-would-be-angry-with-me-if-you-found-out.”

  “What? Watson,” I sat down next to my brother. “I’m not angry with you at all. I was just afraid that someone like James Mok was using this as a way to make me look bad by solving cases while pretending to be me, and then deliberately failing to solve them to give me a bad name.”