The Betel Nut Tree Mystery

by Ovidia Yu

  ‘What is it?’ I asked, looking between the two men. Neither answered.

  Le Froy blinked several times, a sign that he was rapidly assessing something.

  ‘Can you talk me through the ramifications?’ he asked Dr Shankar. Then, without waiting for a reply, ‘Take Su Lin’s chair. Su Lin, help him.’

  ‘Sorry to discombobulate you, Su Lin.’ Dr Shankar’s eyes were shining in excitement.

  ‘Should I take notes?’

  Le Froy waved a hand in a vague gesture but I could see he was barely aware of my presence. ‘Coffee. Get us coffee. And dough fritters.’

  As I left I heard him say, ‘So there is no doubt Victor Glossop was murdered.’

  Coming back with coffee, I met Sergeant Pillay on his way out. ‘Where are you going, Prakesh?’

  ‘Boss told me to go to the hotel and tell those people he wants to see them all at the office. As soon as possible. Mulliner, Covington and that beautiful woman.’

  ‘They may not agree to come,’ I said, thinking of Nicole Covington.

  ‘He said to tell them they will be given Victor Glossop’s official autopsy results.’

  According to Dr Shankar’s and Dr Leask’s test results, Victor Glossop had been poisoned with something that had made him bleed, much like snake venom. But though traces were discovered in his mouth and on his tongue, it had not been detected in his gullet or stomach. And the swelling of his face, arms and chest suggested that he had been exposed to a far higher dose than one snake could deliver.

  The powdered concoctions put down to kill rats would have the same effect.

  Even if all the previous deaths in Nicole Covington’s life had been accidents and bad luck, Victor Glossop had been murdered and there was no getting away from it.

  ‘Victor was wearing lipstick,’ I said. ‘Not just on his mouth. The hearts on his face and arms looked like they were drawn on with it. Some were in places he couldn’t have reached for himself. Can you find out who drew them on him?’

  ‘It must have been Nicole,’ Le Froy said. ‘Unless Victor Glossop had other female companions.’

  ‘Other companions,’ Dr Shankar pointed out. ‘Not necessarily female.’

  I would have to send word to my grandmother that I would not be visiting her, I thought, as we waited. Ah Ma did not like using telephones and rickshaw messengers so I usually communicated with Chen Mansion through Uncle Chen. He went to the Katong house regularly, though he now lived above his shop in town. But I had seen little of him for some weeks now. His wife, Shen Shen, told me there had been a big fight between him and Ah Ma. Uncle Chen had wanted money from Ah Ma to support the anti-Japanese troops in China, and Ah Ma had refused. Uncle Chen and Shen Shen had not been back since to the big house for dinner.

  Uncle Chen was Ah Ma’s only surviving son, as well as the main supervisor of the Chen family business dealings, so this was serious. ‘Your uncle is very angry with your grandmother. I am afraid he will go to China to fight. Your grandmother will blame me for influencing him,’ Shen Shen had worried. ‘If he comes back alive, she will use it to get him to take another wife.’

  Given that everyone knew Uncle Chen had got his pigheadedness from Chen Tai, it was unlikely she could blame Shen Shen for anything he did. But Shen Shen had already lost two babies and my grandmother was a practical woman.

  I was just thinking I was lucky not to be in Shen Shen’s position when Le Froy brought up the subject of my family. ‘That reminds me, Su Lin. I told your grandmother I had to see her about something and she said we could go over this afternoon.’

  ‘Why do you want to see her?’ That explained Ah Ma’s message last night. Le Froy might have asked for a meeting but, to save face, she had to be the one who summoned us. I stared at him. What could he have to say to my grandmother?

  ‘I think our visitors are here,’ Le Froy said.

  Confrontations

  ‘If you are not going to arrest us, you have no right to keep us here!’ Nicole Covington’s voice rang out over the noise of the street even before the engine of their taxi cab stopped.

  Our visitors had arrived.

  I scuttle-limped out to greet them. And then I stopped and stared.

  When I had seen her at the hotel, Nicole Covington had, of course, been in turmoil. No matter how many beaux a woman has had, it must still be a shock to have one suddenly drop dead.

  Today I barely recognized the woman striding past me into the Detective Shack. She was totally different. She was a photograph in one of Parshanti’s magazines come to life.

  Nicole Covington paused and posed like a fashion model with one hand on a tilted hip. Taylor Covington and Kenneth Mulliner stood on either side and slightly behind her, like courtiers with their queen or savage priests at a human sacrifice.

  I sensed Kenneth was there reluctantly but didn’t know what gave me that impression. Nicole was so much the centre of attention that it was difficult to look at anyone else. She was like an actress at the climax of a movie, but without a musical score I couldn’t tell if it was a moment of suspense or threat.

  Nicole’s wide-shouldered white jacket was almost masculine in its cut, but the bright yellow dress beneath was soft with a girlish flared skirt. Her soft turban hat and shoes were orange.

  She reminded me of the beautiful painted statues outside the new Sri Vadapathira Kaliamman Temple in that I couldn’t tell whether I was looking at a warrior goddess or a beautiful demon. Nicole Covington might have been either as she stood there.

  Le Froy, in his street uniform of khaki shirt and shorts, looked as if he was trying to work out whether or not the strange dog in a chicken run was rabid.

  ‘Please come. Please come and sit down,’ Sergeant Pillay said.

  I hurried forward too. ‘Let me get you a drink. Would you prefer tea or something cold?’

  Nicole, statue like, kept her eyes on Le Froy and her mouth shut. It was Dr Covington who nodded thanks to Prakesh, and said, ‘We’re fine,’ to me.

  ‘Well, we’re here,’ Nicole finally said. ‘What do you want?’

  ‘Please. Have a seat,’ Le Froy invited.

  Nicole and the doctor sat, but Kenneth remained standing by Nicole’s chair.

  ‘We have the results of the autopsy.’ Le Froy said. ‘Victor Glossop was poisoned.’

  ‘No!’ Dr Covington sounded amazed. ‘I thought— Are you sure? I would swear that – but, no, I never—’

  Kenneth said nothing. He looked as if he was going to be sick.

  ‘We are trying to determine the source of the poison,’ Le Froy continued. ‘In the meantime, we have more questions.’

  ‘Men die,’ Nicole said coldly. ‘They do stupid things and they die. If Victor was poisoned, it was probably something he ate off the street. I warned him a hundred times that he was going to poison himself. Now it’s settled there’s no infection, I want to leave. I’m sick of your island. Does the governor know about this? Governor McPherson and his wife are very good friends of ours and they won’t like it.’

  Le Froy looked calmly at her. ‘Mrs Covington. You had a disagreement with Victor Glossop the day he died. What was that about?’

  ‘This has been a very difficult time for me,’ Nicole said. Suddenly there was a tremor in her voice and tears in her eyes. ‘Please try to understand. I thought I was finally getting another chance. I believed Victor loved me. And he betrayed me.’ Nicole stood and held out a hand pleadingly towards Le Froy. He put a handkerchief into it. ‘Thank you,’ she said. Then she seemed to wilt against him like a bean sprout going soft.

  Le Froy held her by the shoulders, steadying and lifting her off him at the same time. Kenneth grabbed a stool, shoved it behind Nicole’s knees, and Le Froy eased her onto it.

  Kenneth said, ‘Look, Inspector, it doesn’t make sense for Nicole to have been involved. If she’d wanted to kill Victor she would have waited till after the wedding.’

  That wasn’t what Nicole wanted to hear and she smacked away the hand K
enneth put on her shoulder.

  ‘Victor Glossop was poisoned,’ Le Froy repeated. ‘Strychnine and brucine were detected in his body. Dr Shankar will explain the test results, if you like.’

  Dr Shankar bowed slightly.

  ‘You let that man cut Victor up? He probably planted the poisons to try to extort money from us!’

  The expression on Dr Shankar’s face made me want to slap Nicole Covington.

  ‘Calm down, Nicole,’ Dr Covington said. ‘Hush yourself and calm down.’ He didn’t seem shocked. As a doctor, he might even have suspected it.

  ‘You’re just a stupid old man,’ Nicole said. ‘If Radley was around he would horse-whip that man for looking at me that way. Nobody’s watching out for me now.’ She burst into tears and threw herself into Le Froy’s arms. This time he didn’t dodge in time and he caught her automatically.

  Le Froy pushed her carefully back onto her stool and unwound her arms. She might have been a giant squid – valuable, but slippery with slime.

  I saw her glance flicker to me. I tried to arrange my features into the expression I saw on Parshanti’s face when she talked about Kenneth. It worked.

  ‘Lend me your girl,’ Nicole said.

  Le Froy stared at her blankly. Dr Covington and Kenneth looked alarmed.

  ‘Nicole, I already arranged—’ Taylor Covington began.

  But Nicole continued over him: ‘Can’t you see how upset I am? I’m traumatized.’ She turned to Le Froy. ‘If you’re making me stay here I need someone to help me. The hotel staff are lazy and stupid. Lend me your girl. She looks clean and she understands English.’ She raised her chin so that her thickly lashed eyes almost closed as they remained fixed on Le Froy. ‘Don’t worry. I’ll send her back to your bed at night so you’re not inconvenienced.’ Le Froy’s stare provoked a shrill of delighted laughter. ‘I am only joking! Relax, Mr Bobby. But I do need someone clean and honest. Besides, your girl likes me. Don’t you, Miss Butterfly?’

  ‘Yes, I do. Yes, I’ll do it,’ I said quickly.

  ‘Her name is not Butterfly.’ Le Froy said. ‘And she is not a servant. Su Lin, may I have a word?’

  We stepped outside. I spoke quickly before Le Froy could: ‘You already agreed with Dr Covington that I could go to the hotel to watch her. If she thinks it’s her idea it’ll be even better.’

  ‘You are here as an office assistant, not an undercover agent. And that woman is mad.’

  ‘I want to do this, sir. Mrs Covington asked for me and I think I can get her to talk to me.’

  ‘On the condition that you inform your grandmother and get her approval,’ he held up a finger to forestall my protest, ‘when we call on her this afternoon.’

  ‘But she’ll never agree! She doesn’t like me staying here, even with someone on duty all night in HQ opposite.’ Ah Ma had wanted me to stay with Uncle Chen, but that would have meant sleeping in the kitchen and I had fought for my little upstairs room. The room I was afraid of losing now.

  ‘So, what’s the verdict?’ Kenneth had appeared in the doorway, ‘Nicole wants to know.’

  ‘Paperwork has to go through Headquarters first,’ Le Froy said, sounding like a bored administrator.

  ‘You said Victor was poisoned.’ Kenneth licked lips that were dry and cracking. ‘He didn’t suffer, did he? Was it something he ate?’

  ‘No point thinking about that,’ Le Froy said, not unkindly. ‘The worst is over for your friend.’

  Should I have been surprised that he was more sympathetic to the dead man’s friend than to the woman Victor Glossop had been going to marry?

  Chen Mansion

  I had worried that my grandmother wanted to scold me for going out alone at night or that she had another marriage arrangement for me. If Le Froy had requested this meeting it was a different matter altogether, but he wouldn’t tell me why.

  Chen Mansion was in the east of Singapore, almost an hour’s drive away in Katong. My grandmother received us in her shabby day room. This was a high compliment and, even in my stressed state, I hoped Le Froy appreciated it.

  Ah Ma didn’t care how her living quarters looked. She always maintained that only poor people worried about appearing rich. Her bedroom, where I had slept for years, was still cluttered with the same old furniture I had grown up with.

  The only previous time Le Froy had visited Chen Mansion, Ah Ma had received him in the formal visitor’s room. That was much grander, for ‘outsiders’ or non-family members. The furniture there was formal and imposing, carved teak inlaid with mother of pearl. Photo portraits of my grandfather and father glared from behind the ornate chair where Chen Tai saw people who came to ask favours. At least things were better than they had been ten years ago. In the worst days of the Depression, people in America were jumping out of skyscrapers because of losing all their money. Ah Ma had said that, since we didn’t have skyscrapers in Singapore, we had to help each other.

  Ah Ma’s day room was comfortable and homely. It smelt of fresh jasmine and fragrant old sandalwood. This was where the mahjong tables were set up for all-night sessions during new year and funerals, and where the private family altars were kept.

  As I always did, I bowed three times at the altar where the photos of my dead parents stood, along with a pair of baby shoes representing my brother who had lived less than two weeks. I don’t know if the dead see us. Paying respects was my way of remembering I had once had parents. There was a cup of tea in front of my parents’ picture, another in front of the baby shoes. I lit two joss sticks.

  ‘This is a beautiful room,’ Le Froy said to Ah Ma in Malay. ‘I am honoured to be invited in here.’

  It was the right thing to say. My grandmother smiled at him.

  ‘Why did you agree to see us? What do you want to tell him?’ I could not be comfortable until I knew what was going on.

  ‘So unfilial. Why so long never come and see me?’ Ah Ma never got to the point immediately. ‘This ang moh mata,’ she pointed at Le Froy, ‘is he good to you?’

  This was routine and not an innocent question. Ah Ma knew Le Froy understood the Hokkien-Malay patois she spoke and I knew she didn’t worry about Le Froy treating me badly. Her spies would have told her if he made me miss a lunch break, let alone bullied me. No, Ah Ma was only making sure that Le Froy had not managed to win over my loyalty.

  ‘He is a good boss and a good teacher,’ I said, returning to the script.

  Ah Ma turned to Le Froy who sat quietly listening. ‘Is my useless granddaughter giving you a lot of trouble?’ she asked, in Malay.

  ‘Su Lin is a great help to us. You have brought her up well. There is not much trouble above ground, these days. That is why I am glad you agreed to see me. I have been wanting to ask your advice on things that are going on under the ground.’

  Ah Ma watched him and waited. I saw she was pleased that Le Froy was coming directly to the point, but she was not going to help him.

  ‘The tongs, triads, clans are all quiet. What are you worried about?’

  ‘That is what worries me.’

  ‘I don’t know what you mean.’

  ‘You know everything that goes on here. The Chen family is powerful because when the small fry don’t get along the Chens keep the peace.’ Le Froy had realized this early on. Working with the Chens, he had been effective at bringing down levels of petty street crime in Singapore. While ignoring what they did outside Singapore.

  ‘You know the colonial authorities have ordered us to arrest anyone supporting China in the conflict against Japan.’

  ‘Do you know what the Japanese are doing to people in China now?’ Ah Ma demanded.

  ‘The British fear the Communists more than the Japanese. Japan is also a monarchy and is not likely to disrupt social order. Britain and the British Empire will stay neutral in this conflict.’

  ‘They are butchering farmers’ livestock and children with the same weapons.’

  ‘China can look after itself. Your son can be arrested and charged for
treason if he is caught.’

  ‘My son has done nothing except throw money into the sea. Even you British cow-eaters cannot call that treason,’ Ah Ma said stubbornly.

  ‘Once he is arrested for treason, it is out of my hands,’ Le Froy said.

  ‘Ah Ma, Japan can’t win,’ I said. ‘China is so much bigger. With so many more people. Besides, Germany is helping China. Germany is sending China money for food and weapons.’ Back in those days I still believed what I read in the newspapers. ‘Besides, Singapore is an unconquerable fortress. Britain’s “Gibraltar of the East”. The British will defend us.’

  They both ignored me.

  ‘Over five million people have died of famine in west China. There are no more weeds left on the ground to eat. The people have eaten them all, like starving pigs scavenging. We are not safe here. Once they have China, the Japanese will continue down south. No one can stop them. In the end, Germany will side with the Japanese. Two races that believe they are gods above everyone else. That is a real threat,’ said Ah Ma. ‘We Chinese are like ants. Too many of us to feel superior, so we just work.’

  ‘The Japanese are already here,’ Le Froy said, in a low voice. I suspected the secret report he was working on for the Colonial Office had to do with Japanese spies infiltrating Singapore. ‘I have touched their hands.’

  Le Froy believed you could tell a day worker by the roughness of his hands. Spies were from the intellectual class. Their brains were trained to deceive, but their bodies were not shaped by a lifetime of work.

  ‘I have touched their hands also,’ my grandmother agreed.

  Confused, I looked between them blankly. ‘Then why isn’t someone doing something? Why aren’t you telling people?’

  ‘What is the point?’ Ah Ma said. ‘Why tell people about a real threat when you cannot do anything about it? That is just stirring up trouble. Our ancestors came here to get away from a bunch of greedy warlords fighting each other. Now there is nowhere else to run. What is the use of telling people who won’t listen?’