by H. Y. Hanna
The sympathy act must have worked because she eased her tight hold on the door and looked at him, pouting. “Yes! Nobody think for me… nobody care! I am just stupid wife, working, working all day… cooking and cleaning for Beng, but never say thank you. Just go fishing! Fishing all the time!”
Toran felt a flicker of pity as he looked at the woman in front of him. Life had definitely been hard for her and with the kind of husband that Beng Chew Hoon was, she couldn’t have had much support. In fact, she seemed to be warming up now into a tirade about the injustices she had suffered.
“…And now everybody asking me about Beng. Already I tell police—I don’t know! I sell sugar cane juice, lah. I am good woman, hard worker. Don’t want involve with pai kia!”
Pai kia. Toran recognised the Singlish slang phrase for “gangster”. He had a feeling he knew who she was referring to.
“Was your husband trying to make a deal with Black Buddha?” he asked, cutting her off.
This time, there was a definite flash of fear in her eyes. “I… I don’t know,” she mumbled.
“You just said that you don’t get involved with pai kia… but did your husband? Is that why he was killed? Did he try to cut a deal and got too demanding?” asked Toran.
“I don’t know!” she said wildly. “Beng also don’t tell me! Why you keep asking? Already don’t have any more!”
Toran looked at her sharply. “Have what? What don’t you have any more?”
She took a step back, licking her lips nervously. “Nothing, lah… have nothing.”
“But you had something, didn’t you?” pressed Toran. “This is the ‘extra information’ that your husband was trying to sell to the highest bidder! What have you done with it?”
Her mouth twisted. “I give to that one, ang mo girl.”
Ang mo. Red haired. A Singlish slang term for a Caucasian. Did she mean Leah? “What girl?” demanded Toran.
“Ang mo girl come to see Beng the day before!” spat Mrs Beng. “Aya, this Beng is dirty one, always looking at woman. And she bring bad luck, so I think, give back to her. All the trouble give to her!” she said bitterly.
“What did you give her?” Toran asked. “Is it something to do with the man your husband picked up that night at Yishun Dam?”
She looked at him sideways. “Why I tell you?” A calculating gleam came into her eyes. “How much you pay?”
The earlier pity Toran had felt for her vanished. She was just as sly and greedy as her dead husband! He pulled a few notes out of his pocket and waved it in front of her.
Her hand snaked out and snatched the money. Then she said dismissively, “It is just like other talismans that Beng is keeping. This one is Lucky Ru-Yi he say…”
“A Ru-Yi talisman?” Toran asked.
She nodded. “The man he pick up at Yishun Dam… drop in Beng’s car. Maybe fall from pocket? Lucky jade Ru-Yi. For gambling, eh, but Beng say for fishing also good—also can catch big fish.”
Toran realised that he had to find Leah and see this Ru-Yi talisman. He didn’t want to admit it, but a part of him was secretly pleased that he had an excuse to speak to her again.
He took out one of his cards and handed it to Mrs Beng. “If you think of anything else that might be helpful, please give me a call.”
She took the card grudgingly. Toran turned and was about to leave when her next words stopped him in his tracks.
“Other man also say the same. How I know talk to you better?”
He whirled back. “What other man?”
She shrugged again. “Other man come see me today. Come earlier. Like you, asking about Ru-Yi.”
“And did you tell him that you had given it to the girl?” asked Toran urgently.
She nodded. Toran felt a deep sense of unease. Was this other man one of Black Buddha’s thugs? Was he the one who had killed Beng? And what would he do now that he knew Leah had the Ru-Yi?
He needed to speak to Leah. Toran hurried back to the Audi, suddenly regretting ignoring Leah’s calls. He got in the car, pulled out his phone, and tried her number—her phone was switched off. He frowned, then went into his answering service and finally listened to the messages she had left him.
BEEP
“Toran… it’s me. Leah. I… I just wanted to say I’m sorry again… about… everything... I… um… I’ll try you again later.”
BEEP
“Hi Toran. It’s me… It’s… uh… really late now. I thought maybe… maybe you changed your mind and… um… you might come back tonight… I guess not… um… well, I’ll try you again tomorrow.”
BEEP
“Hi Toran… I hope you slept okay last night. Maybe you stayed at Dieter’s… I just wondered… I mean… well, anyway, I hope I might catch you later.”
BEEP
“Hi Toran, it’s Leah. I just wanted to let you know that I’ll be away for a few days. I’m… uh… going to London with Julia. But maybe when I get back… um… we can talk. Take care.”
Toran lowered the phone, his heart beating uncomfortably. The pain in Leah’s voice tore at him and suddenly all he wanted to do was to pull her into his arms. For the first time since finding out that she had lied to him, Toran felt his hurt and anger ease slightly.
He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. Based on the time of the last message, she must be on the flight to London now. That must be why her phone was switched off. He would have to speak to her tomorrow.
And warn her that she might be in danger. He thought of Black Buddha’s thug knowing now that Leah had the Ru-Yi and felt that wave of unease wash over him again. What if something happened to Leah while she was in the U.K.?
He wished now that he hadn’t been so quick to reject her calls. He wished that he had had a chance to speak to her before she left. He would never forgive himself if something happened and he never got the chance to tell her how much she meant to him, if her last thoughts of him were filled with pain and rejection—
Stop it, Toran gave himself a mental shake. He was letting his imagination run away with him. Leah would be fine. In fact, she was probably a lot safer getting away from Singapore for a few days. And when she got back, he would make sure that he kept her out of danger.
CHAPTER 13
Leah and Julia arrived in London early the next day. After the humid hothouse they had left behind in Singapore, it was a shock to step out of Heathrow Airport into the chilly temperatures of an English Sunday morning. The air was fresh and damp with recent rain, and the wind stung their cheeks as they rolled their cases out of the terminal building. With Singapore being in the tropics, the weather was constant there all year round, with no change in the seasons—but March in the U.K. was just the start of spring, with blustery days and sometimes even frosty nights.
Leah looked up at the weak sunshine filtering down through the clouds. “This is actually quite a nice day for March,” she commented with a grin.
“You’ve got to be kidding,” said Julia, making a face and pulling her pashmina tighter around her. “Let’s get out of this wind before we freeze to death!”
Leah laughed and led the way to the taxi rank. When her old flatmate, Aimee, had heard that they were visiting London, she had insisted that they come to stay with her—in the flat that Leah used to share with her—instead of going to a hotel. The old bedroom that Leah used to occupy was still empty and the lounge in the living room could easily be converted into a sofa-bed. Leah had shared this idea hesitantly with Julia, unsure how her friend—who was normally used to five-star hotels and luxury suites—would react to this suggestion. To her surprise, Julia had agreed enthusiastically to the arrangement and seemed to be looking forward to meeting Aimee.
As they joined the queue for taxis, Leah suddenly remembered her mobile phone. She had switched it off during the flight and hadn’t switched it back on yet. Fumbling in her handbag, she was just about to pull it out when someone jostled her roughly.
“Oh!” Leah exclaimed as she lost her balance
and pitched forwards. Her handbag slid from her shoulder and flew across the ground. Leah tumbled to her knees, only stopping herself in time before she face-planted on the pavement.
“Leah! Are you all right?” asked Julia, bending down to help her up.
“Yeah…” Leah mumbled as she got back to her feet. She winced as she brushed herself off, grateful that she had elected to wear jeans for the flight. They had cushioned her knees and prevented a nasty scrape on the concrete pavement. She was just about to move over to pick up her handbag when she realised that it was no longer there.
Leah whirled around, looking wildly. “My bag! Someone’s taken it!”
Julia looked around too. “There!” She pointed.
Leah followed the direction of her finger. They could see a man moving rapidly through the crowds of people spilling out of the terminal building entrance. He had Leah’s handbag slung over his shoulder.
“Hey!” shouted Leah, breaking into a run after him.
He glanced back at her and Leah caught sight of a sallow face with slanted eyes and a thin-lipped mouth. He was wearing a grey hoodie which partially covered his shaved head, and he was Asian, she realised. Was it just coincidence that an Asian man should snatch her bag as soon as she arrived in London? Or had this man followed them from Singapore?
She put on a burst of speed, trying to catch up with him. He disappeared into the terminal building and Leah dived through the sliding double doors after him. She nearly collided with a young couple and their baby stroller.
“Sorry!” Leah gasped as she darted around them. She glanced left and right. Then she saw the man. He was making his way through the crowds at a rapid pace, shoving people roughly out of his way. Leah took off after him.
“Stop that man!” she shouted. “He’s got my bag!”
People turned, opened-mouthed, to look. Several people pointed at the man and a few made half-hearted attempts to stop him, but he was moving too quickly and he was not afraid to use violence on anyone who blocked his way. Leah looked frantically around for airport security, but she could see no one in uniform.
“Please… I need to get through… Let me pass!” she said as she tried to push her way through the crowds. She realised that her call for help had actually made things worse as more people were surging forwards to see what the commotion was about and blocking her path. By the time Leah made her way through and found herself at the other end of the Arrivals Hall, she realised that she had to admit defeat. She could no longer see him.
She heaved a sigh of frustration. Slowly she made her way back, stopping only to report the incident to airport security. Back outside, she found Julia standing with their cases beside the taxi rank, looking worried.
“Leah! What happened?” Julia’s eyes fell to her empty hands.
“I lost him,” said Leah, shaking her head angrily. “I can’t believe it! I’ve lost my wallet, phone, passport, everything!”
“Never mind,” said Julia. “I’ve got all my stuff so we’re fine for money. Come on,” she said, putting a soothing hand on Leah’s arm. “Let’s get a taxi.”
As they settled into their seats in a black London taxi cab, Julia said, “Funny… I never thought of London as a place with pickpockets and thieves. I don’t know why, but you expect that sort of thing more in Asia.”
“Oh, London has lots of petty criminals,” said Leah. “Don’t let the romance and glamour of the capital’s image fool you. But I don’t think this was a local criminal.”
“What do you mean?” asked Julia in surprise.
“I got a quick look at his face,” said Leah. “He was Chinese.”
“So? There are Chinese people in London too,” said Julia.
“Yeah, I know,” said Leah wryly. “But this just seems a bit of a coincidence. I mean, I’d expect it in Chinatown maybe, down in Soho, but at the airport?” She paused, then added, “I just wondered if he might be someone who had followed us from Singapore…”
Julia raised her eyebrows. “From Singapore? Why would anyone follow us from there?”
Leah shrugged. “I don’t know. It was just a thought…”
They were silent for the rest of the journey into London, each lost in their own thoughts. Leah roused herself though when the taxi entered the familiar streets of Knightsbridge, where her old flat was situated. She felt a sense of nostalgia as she watched the rows of elegant Georgian townhouses pass by, with their perfect symmetry and classical proportions. This area had been her home for so many years and a part of her did miss London.
It was strange, though—she had only left a few months ago, and yet already she felt like a stranger, visiting these familiar streets. Leah realised that her heart was in Singapore now… where Toran was.
But did he care anymore?
She felt a little stab of pain as she remembered again that Toran had not answered any of her calls since their big fight. What if he really couldn’t forgive her? What if this really was the end? She looked out despairingly at the streets around her. Would she leave Singapore and come back here? Could she see herself settling back into life in London and carrying on as if nothing had happened? No. Leah shrank inside at the thought. It would be like a part of her had been ripped out. There was no way to change things now and go back to the way they were before.
The taxi pulled up outside an imposing Georgian townhouse with a faded red exterior and beautiful white cornices on its sash windows. The cabbie helped Leah and Julia with their bags, accepted the generous tip that Julia gave him with a cheerful, “Ta very much, luv!” and drove off. Leah led the way up to the front door, but before she could ring the bell, it was flung open and her old flatmate, Aimee, engulfed her in a hug.
“Leah! So good to see you! Come in! Come in!”
She ushered them inside, through the wide hallway and into the spacious ground-floor flat. Once inside, Leah made the introductions and was amused to see Aimee and Julia eyeing each other warily, like two dogs sizing each other up before a fight. She realised now that they were very alike in personality: vivacious, meddling busybodies who enjoyed dictating other people’s lives—with the best of intentions, of course! It would be interesting to watch how they responded to each other, Leah thought to herself with a smile.
Leah also realised that she owed Aimee a debt of gratitude because if her meddling, matchmaking old flatmate hadn’t taken it upon herself to contact Toran on Leah’s behalf, they might never have met up again. Or rather, they would have—since he had been investigating her father’s murder—but it would probably have been under very different circumstances.
“So tell me everything!” said Aimee, after she had shown them the spare bedroom to dump their cases, and then led the way into the kitchen. Leah felt slightly strange to be standing in her old kitchen like a guest. She watched Aimee prepare three mugs of tea, adding milk—the English way—without asking. Leah saw Julia accept hers and make a face as she sipped the milky, brown liquid, but for once, the Singaporean girl didn’t say anything. In fact, she seemed surprisingly subdued. Julia must be more tired by the journey than she’s letting on, thought Leah.
They settled back in the living room and Aimee began peppering Leah with questions about her new life in Singapore. Most of it was fine until the subject turned to Toran. Leah didn’t really want to go into details, but she found herself unable to pretend that everything was perfectly rosy as well. In the end, she compromised, giving a very brief account of their argument and saying that they were sort of “taking a break”.
“Taking a break?” Aimee looked horrified. “There’s no such thing! That’s just shying away from the problems. You need to tackle them head-on and face them together as a couple!”
Leah groaned inwardly. She should have known. Aimee had given up her full-time job to run her very successful blog, Touchy-Feely.com, and she had gained an impressive reputation as a guru in relationships, from parent-child issues to work colleague tension, crumbling marriages to neighbourly relations. Bu
t what Aimee loved the most was matchmaking and getting couples together. Leah should have known that any mention of her problems with Toran would capture her old flatmate’s immediate interest.
“We… We are working it out,” said Leah awkwardly, feeling a bit like a fraud as she thought of the fact that she hadn’t been able to speak to Toran since their argument. “It’s just a bit complicated, okay?”
Aimee protested, “Yes but—”
“I’m starving!” said Julia suddenly. “Shall we go out for a late brunch? I’ve been hearing so much about this British gastropub thing—can we go and check one out?”
Aimee looked at her, nonplussed. Leah hid a smile.
“Um, yeah… sure,” said Aimee. “There’s a great new place that’s opened up on Sloane Street. We could go there.”
Leah and Julia changed into warmer clothes and then the three girls walked through Knightsbridge towards Sloane Street, one of the most famous shopping streets in London. Leah saw Julia’s eyes light up as they passed exclusive boutiques and chic window displays featuring iconic British designers such as Alexander McQueen and Stella McCartney, as well as the top names in couture fashion: Christian Dior, Chanel, Gucci, Armani… She smiled to herself again as she watched Aimee and Julia forge eagerly ahead, exclaiming over various items in the window displays. They seemed to be bonding over a mutual love of shopping and Julia was listening avidly as Aimee gave her the lowdown on the best British labels to add to her wardrobe.
Julia paused outside the window of Boodles Fine Jewellery and beckoned to Leah. “You’ve got to come and see this diamond bracelet, Leah!”
Leah came up, laughing. “I don’t understand, Julia. Singapore has the best shopping in the world. You probably have most of these brands on Orchard Road. Why are you getting so excited?”
