Sherlock Hong: The Immortal Nightingale

by Don Bosco

  As for Ah Chye, he kept on running.

  I had a big ugly scratch on my left arm and it took me a while to catch my breath. Constable Flint helped me up and together we made our way down the bank of the river, looking for Ah Chye and William Fong. There were coolies everywhere, moving sacks and boxes and all kinds of huge urns, their faces sullen and tired.

  Constable Flint gave me a strange look. “How did you know that wasn’t William Fong back there?”

  “I noticed his eyes,” I explained. “William Fong had fierce eyes, they seemed to burn with hate and cruelty. But those eyes were clearly different. They were uncertain and a little sad.”

  Constable Flint choked in disbelief. “You can tell all that just by looking at a person’s eyes? What kind of mystical science is this?”

  I shook my head. There was no mysticism involved. “And also the paint on his fingers,” I continued. “When I was watching their backyard this morning, I noticed that William Fong didn’t do any work. He sat in the shade and gave instructions while Ah Chye painted some crates. But back in the mansion just now I saw the paint under the fingertips. That’s when I guessed it was Ah Chye pretending to be William. The real William Fong is up to something. I don’t know what. But we have to stop them!”

  Constable Flint put his hands on his hips and frowned. “This is all too convoluted for me. Explain it again, and slowly this time.”

  I was about to mention the cough, when I happened to gaze over his shoulder. A shock ran through my body.

  “Not now,” I told him. “Behind you!”

  Very reluctantly, he turned around. There were four crates on the ground, waiting to be loaded onto a boat. Each crate was marked in bold letters, Macau. But under the paint I could see the East India Company insignia. Faint but still visible.

  I looked around to check if we were being watched. My heart was pounding madly. I could sense danger.

  “This stack of crates!” I gestured urgently. “I saw them in William Fong’s backyard this morning. He must be somewhere close!”

  CHAPTER 12

  Constable Flint probably had his doubts. But for some reason he decided to trust me. He pulled out a whistle and blew it hard, three long blasts, to summon help.

  Up and the down the river bank everyone turned to stare at us, anticipating trouble, but not in a hurry to get out of the way because trouble was an everyday affair down here and besides, for most of them, it was the only entertainment or distraction they could look forward to.

  Constable Flint gave me a grim look. “Stay clear now,” he said. “Let me do my job and hunt them down. You should go home and wait. I’ll send for you when I need your statement as a witness.”

  “But... ”

  He shook his head and held up the whistle. “My patrolmen will be here soon. Don’t worry, William Fong won’t get away.”

  Constable Flint blew on the whistle again, another three shrill blasts. He walked towards the crates and signalled to some workers nearby that he wanted to talk to them.

  I looked over my shoulder to see if anyone else had followed us all the way from Uncle Chan’s house. I was hoping to spot Aisha, so we could conduct our own investigation together.

  And then a movement caught my eye. Just a glimpse of a hurrying figure, with a gait that I recognised, disappearing quickly into the crowd before I could even snap my fingers.

  It was Ah Chye!

  I was sure of this. He had removed his fancy robe and wiped the paint off his face.

  I should have alerted Constable Flint. But there wasn’t time. And the future belongs to the young and brave.

  So I went after Ah Chye alone.

  Ah Chye knew I was in pursuit. He raced back up the river bank, went around the row of buildings and then snaked his way through the maze of alleys at the back.

  I followed as fast as my legs could carry me, panting and puffing at every turn, driven on by an image of the achievement badge that I was determined to earn.

  Soon we approached a dead end. “You’re trapped!” I shouted in triumph. “The patrolmen are on their way!”

  But just as I uttered those words, I felt a sinking feeling in my chest. On the contrary, Constable Flint and his men were not on their way! I realised what a big mistake I had made.

  Too late. Ah Chye had turned around and was waiting for me. He rolled up his sleeves and flexed his muscles.

  And then someone stepped out of the shadows at the deep end of the alley. My heart skipped a beat. It was William Fong!

  The two of them stared at me and I stared back. What could I do? Shout for help? Turn and run? Pretend to faint?

  William Fong had a big evil grin on his face. He knew I was alone and helpless.

  CHAPTER 13

  Without warning, William Fong lunged at me and grabbed the front of my shirt. Then he held me in a headlock.

  “Ugh!” I kicked as hard as I could and squirmed to get free. “Let me go, you brute!”

  His voice was thick with scorn. “Not so cocky now, are you? I had a good thing going but you ruined it. Let me teach you a lesson. I promise that it will hurt.”

  No! I refused to give up. The young! The brave! I decided to do the unthinkable. I gnashed my teeth and prepared to sink them into William Fong’s thick and sweaty forearm.

  To my surprise, I felt his grip around my neck suddenly relax, enough for me to slip free.

  “What’s this?” William Fong grunted in annoyance as he stumbled sideways. Just then, I noticed another person behind him! Dressed completely in black like a Japanese ninja, all covered up except for the eyes.

  My jaw dropped in disbelief. The masked person dodged William Fong’s blow and then, with effortless precision, deftly tapped a series of energy points on the side of his face and neck.

  It all happened too fast for William Fong to react. I saw the dazed look in his eyes. A moment later, his head slumped down to his chest and he fell to the ground.

  I took a step backwards and prepared to defend myself against the ninja. I could feel the person’s eyes on me, strangely forceful and fierce, while my ears picked up an unfamiliar lullaby sung in a low voice.

  “Who are you?” I muttered. “Show your face now!”

  But the song bewitched me and made me feel light and dreamy. I took a deep breath and fought the urge to close my eyes.

  Like a hazy hallucination, or a fantastic illusion, the shadowy figure faded into nothingness.

  I spent some time staring at William Fong’s body on the ground, and wondered if my basic martial arts training had somehow kicked in and I had unleashed my fighting moves on William Fong without realising it and ended up defeating him.

  Then I saw Aisha hurry down the alley with Constable Flint and his patrolmen. Aisha looked concerned. I smiled at her. But we didn’t get a chance to talk.

  “Young man, are you hurt?” Constable Flint wanted to know. “Your friend here saw you running in this direction,” he said as he nodded at Aisha. “You’re lucky that she informed me. Or we might not have gotten here in time to save you!”

  I wanted to point out to Constable Flint that he didn’t do a thing to save me, that I owed my life to a mysterious masked ninja. But I kept my mouth shut and just nodded.

  I told them how I had chased Ah Chye down this alley and found William Fong waiting. Constable Flint sent for more patrolmen to search the area for Ah Chye. He didn’t seem curious about how William Fong had ended up on the ground unconscious.

  William Fong was in a daze when they lifted him and carried him away. As he passed me, I heard him mumble, “Don’t you know what dark forces you’re dealing with? The Grandmaster is on his way. And he’ll make you pay for this!”

  CHAPTER 14

  My name is Sherlock Hong. I have spent much time contemplating this case and for this I have ended up with few answers but lots more perplexing questions.

  Such as: Did Uncle Chan really believe that he could become a Heavenly Immortal? That because of his supposedly magica
l nightingale, he would be given another life in an afterworld? What actually happens after a person dies, anyway?

  According to Aisha’s aunt, our neighbourhood’s ever-reliable source of information, William Fong had been in and out of prison in a number of cities around the world, mostly for cheating.

  At Uncle Chan’s house, he had hidden a live nightingale under the stage so that Ah Chye could make a swap at some point during the show, thus making it appear that the dead nightingale had returned to life.

  According to Constable Flint’s investigation, Chan Suk planned to approach some of the more gullible members of the audience afterwards and offer them William Fong’s magical services. For a ridiculously high fee, of course.

  William Fong was a true scoundrel. He had masterminded the scam and claimed a large share of the takings, but he was afraid to end up in prison again if something went wrong. So he made Ah Chye put on a disguise and take his place on stage. If the plan should fall apart, William Fong was ready to escape by boat without Ah Chye.

  I’ll never forget William Fong’s last words to me. Dark forces, the Grandmaster, and something about making me pay. What did he mean? Was he delirious? Or was he threatening me? Could there really be another villainous entity secretly hatching an evil plot in our town? I will have much to investigate in the days ahead!

  Uncle Chan paid for all the damage that Chan Suk and William Fong caused, but he refused to make a formal police report against his son. William Fong and Ah Chye were even allowed to leave town.

  To be honest, I’ve been upset about this. I expected justice to be served for bad folks to be severely punished so that others would not be tempted to try a similar scam. But Uncle Chan, as a father, clearly loves his son so much that he will do anything within his power to protect Chan Suk.

  Finally, there is one unresolved mystery. Who was that nifty ninja that saved me in the alley? The masked rescuer who so effortlessly fought off William Fong and Ah Chye, then vanished into thin air before Constable Flint showed up?

  I only managed to look into the person’s eyes, and I hesitate to share this crazy idea, but for a moment I thought I recognised my tutor, Miss Priya! Could she be — gasp! — a secret practitioner of the magical arts? I am now impatient for my next lesson with her. I will watch her closely, scrutinise her every move. No matter how long it takes, I am determined to find out the truth. You will hear more about this soon, I promise.

  After this experience, my view of the world has changed significantly. I’m glad that Aisha did not abandon me in my time of need. She has proved a true friend and a loyal assistant. Should I attempt to enlist her in our organisation? Perhaps we can all vote on this matter, the sooner the better. I’m certain she will contribute greatly to our Order.

  In the end, we might never get to be Heavenly Immortals. But everywhere I look, it is clear to me that the future belongs to the young and brave!

  The year is 1891. The month, April.

  Take care and live in peace, dear friends, until we meet again.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Don Bosco describes himself as “geeky, cheeky and magicky”. His books include the Sherlock Hong series and the Time Talisman series. These stories are full of fun, adventure and mystery, all inspired by Asian history and culture. Don is also the author of the bestselling Lion City Adventures. He lives in Singapore. To find out more, visit his website: http://www.SuperCoolBooks.com