by Ovidia Yu
“Actually there was no real danger of that happening, sir.” SSS Salim felt he had to point this out.
The commissioner nodded his approval of the comment but continued as though Salim had not spoken. “Nonetheless she is nervous after all the things that have happened. She seems to have confidence in you, and she asked that we appoint you to keep an eye on things. Also she is the wife of an old friend and alone in the world now. We don’t want anything to happen to her.”
SSS Salim could understand the commissioner’s concern . . . although it seemed to him that there were few people less alone in the world than Aunty Lee, and he could not imagine her feeling nervous about anything. But he knew that the commissioner had just given him the opportunity that could make or break his career, so he kept his thoughts to himself.
“Go and get the statements of those people in hospital and make sure that Mrs. Lee is all right. Understood?”
“One more thing, sir.”
“Yes, Salim?”
“I don’t know if it is relevant to the case. But I heard that Mrs. Cunningham was calling to someone to call Joe for her. Perhaps you better find out who this Joe is.”
When he left the commissioner’s office, Salim felt much less tired than he’d felt when he went in. His career was not dead and life was full of possibilities again, but he had no idea where to go from here. His phone buzzed—he had put it on silent mode before going into Commissioner Raja’s office—and when he saw the call was from Aunty Lee, he answered it right there in the corridor. He was not sure whether to thank her for saving his job, but before he could say more than “Hello, Mrs. Lee—”
“We’ve found Komal,” Aunty Lee said. “The Peters family’s missing helper, remember? She wouldn’t have run away for nothing!
“And I think I know what the Cunninghams’ secret is,” Aunty Lee announced proudly. “Or rather we will all see soon—you too if you go round to the hospital. And you should know about the e-mails that Laura Kwee had been sending Marianne and the Cunninghams too. Carla Saito should have told you about them earlier . . . Because you see, the key to all this is Laura Kwee. The sort of person Laura Kwee was. How soon can you get to my shop? I want to show you everything before you drive me to the hospital!”
SSS Salim was a bit overwhelmed. When he arrived, Aunty Lee insisted on ushering him into her café, though it was still closed. Aunty Lee said it was officially because of the damage caused by the fire. Unofficially because too many people were coming out of curiosity to see the damage, and serving them took up too much time. “After all, for now this is our headquarters,” she said. “We can’t have people walking in and out nonstop.”
Salim wondered about customer loyalty. But after all, that was Aunty Lee’s business (in every sense). Either she knew her customers well enough to know they would return or this was an issue she simply didn’t have to worry about. It must be nice to be rich enough not to worry about such things.
“Everybody has secrets,” Aunty Lee said. “That poor girl Komal, for instance. She is so scared of her employers, she is scared of the police. Even if she has done nothing worse than eating leftovers, she is scared. But I can talk to her. Everybody hides something, so they seem suspicious. But some of these things are going to be innocent stupid things like women trying to lose weight but eating peach cake secretly. So we have to rule out the innocent secrets, and when we have done that, we will know who is responsible for these terrible crimes!”
It sounded very simple. Salim felt he ought to warn her that this was not how things were done in Singapore, but when he tried—
“Nonsense,” she exclaimed. “This is how problems are solved all over the world! Now the secrets. Nina, can you write them on the board for Salim, please?”
The board was the one on which the daily specials were written.
The Cunninghams: Not wanting to say why they are in Singapore. Lucy Cunningham seems to be hiding something.
Mycroft Peters: Not reporting his sister missing. Seems more eager to move on from her murder than solve it.
Cherril Lim-Peters: Is she interested in starting a business with Mark or simply interested in Mark?
Carla Saito: What really happened between her and Marianne Peters that she doesn’t want to tell us about?
Mark Lee: What is the secret he and Laura Kwee shared, that she threatened him with revealing?
“Is that all?” SSS Salim asked. He was joking, but Aunty Lee took him seriously.
“Well, we should include Harry Sullivan because he was here on all the wine dining nights. But though the man has his own issues, I’m not sure he keeps them secret . . .”
From what SSS Salim had seen of the man, he had to agree. Mr. Sullivan had made clear what he thought of nonwhite people as well as what he thought of other white people who didn’t hold themselves up to his standards—the Cunninghams, for example. What had he said? That they were living off the fat of the land with no thought for their children, which was not surprising because—
“Harry Sullivan seems to think the Cunninghams have something to hide.”
“For example, I’m sure you have secrets,” Aunty Lee said confidently. She was not just teasing the young man. She had sensed how he and Nina looked at each other—probably before they were aware of it themselves.
“No,” SSS Salim said.
The plan Aunty Lee drew up:
Find out who the damned pervert is that Frank Cunningham thought was after them.
Find out about Laura’s relationships and mysterious phone calls.
Obtain copies of Marianne’s e-mails from Carla Saito.
Get the Peterses to talk about Marianne.
“Is all this enough to start with?”
“Plenty.”
“Of course, if you are too busy with your own leads, I can follow up on these myself.”
“Not at all.”
“Now you better get home and have a shower and a rest. I want to go to the hospital and then talk to Komal.”
When Salim left for home, he again had that feeling of being looked after. He had lived alone since his return to Singapore. The grandmother who had brought him up had died right after he graduated, almost as though she had been waiting for her long lifetime of responsibility to be over. There were times when he stayed on longer at work than he need have, just as he had once stayed late in school, simply to avoid going back to the empty rooms.
As he was leaving the café, Nina came in from the back and passed him a flimsy red plastic bag, the sort people used to carry fresh fruit bought off market stalls.
“Money plant,” she said. “It’s very tough. If you don’t have a flowerpot, put it in water and it will grow. Better still, put it in a bowl near the window.”
“Mosquitoes . . .” SSS Salim said automatically. But he took the bag.
“Then get fish,” Nina said firmly. “Those small fish, fifty cents each. Then, when you go home, you won’t be alone.”
It touched him that she had not forgotten what he barely remembered saying.
Aunty Lee was still staring at the chart when Nina returned from seeing Salim off.
“All the ingredients here. We just have to put them together the right way,” Aunty Lee said. “But first I need to do a bit of research. You said you found Laura Kwee’s laptop, right?”
“I already looked at it,” Nina said, unabashed. “I was looking for the guest and payment list for the wine dining, but there’s nothing.”
“Then do me a favor. Laura was helping me by writing about my café and products. I just want to make sure nobody tries to reach her through her sites and links. Can you get me in to look at her connections on her computer?”
“You can do that from your own computer, ma’am.”
“But it would be so much easier from Laura’s, right? Because she would have set up all the name lists and who has paid and who has not? If you like, I will get in touch with her family and ask them—plus Laura was so lazy and secretive she is sure
to have some complicated passwords and then have lists of her passwords. If we can get hold of that, it will be so much easier.”
“Now I’m going to take a look around the employment agencies. Don’t look so worried, Nina. After sharing all my secrets with you, I’m not going to let you go so easily.”
14
Collecting Ingredients
Aunty Lee had a knack for preparing foods people swore tasted exactly as they remembered them from their distant childhoods. She was frequently asked for recipes and accused of withholding vital ingredients when these did not produce the desired result. In truth, she withheld nothing, but she could not give instructions for instinct. That had to be developed over years of experience. Ingredients today were either far purer or diluted with very different kinds of impurities than they had been when Aunty Lee was learning to cook. And the taste buds of those she cooked for were less sensitive as the people grew older. When cooking, you had to make allowances and adjustments to compensate for all these changes.
Moreover, Aunty Lee knew how important it was not only to know your ingredients but also to know the people you were dealing with. She kept that in mind when trying to figure out “human recipes.”
While the Cunninghams were recuperating in hospital, the Peterses’ runaway maid had been found. Aunty Lee could not claim credit for this.
Nina had finally managed to track down Komal Chandani. She could not have done it without her vast network of friends, their relatives, friends of their relatives, and so on. Aunty Lee was very impressed. She had lived in Singapore all her life, while Nina had been there all of seven years, but when it came to having contacts in helpful places, nobody was better than Nina. Until this talent of Nina’s surfaced, Aunty Lee had been limited to counting on taxi-driver and Tai-Tai networks for information. This had always involved taking more taxi rides and attending more charity dinners than Aunty Lee was happy with.
When she got home from the café, she found Nina and SSS Salim in her living room along with a small, dark, frightened-looking girl.
“Should we get an interpreter?” SSS Salim asked.
“Afterward, if you want to take a proper statement. For now, just listen. She can understand us. Right, Komal? You can understand?”
Komal looked scared, but she nodded.
“Do you know what happened to Miss Marianne?” Aunty Lee asked gently.
Komal shook her head. Then she nodded—and shook her head again. “Don’t know,” she said.
“You know she’s dead?”
A nod.
“But you don’t know what happened?”
Another nod, with relief this time. “I try to help Miss Mari.”
“How did you try to help her?”
“I pack her things in her bag for her.”
“What things?”
“Things to wear. Passport.”
“Why didn’t Miss Mari pack them herself?”
“She go already. She go first. Then her man, he says she needs her things. She don’t want to come back because if she comes back, then her father don’t let her go. So she ask her man to come and get her bag for her.”
“Then?”
“Then, when I bring for him the bag, he give me fifty dollars. He say it is from Miss Mari and I must not tell anybody or her family will be very angry with her and with me.”
“Did you believe that?”
Komal nodded earnestly. “Then, when Miss Mari is dead, I am scared. That is why I run away. I never take anything, I swear, madam!”
“I also made phone call to Carla Saito, ma’am,” Nina put in. “I said if she wants to talk to Miss Marianne’s maid, she should come here. I hope that is all right.”
Aunty Lee was surprised. “It’s all right. But I thought you didn’t like Carla Saito.”
Nina looked uncomfortable. “Ma’am, it is not for me to like or not like. But Komal said that Miss Marianne talked about Carla Saito. And she wish for Carla Saito to meet her family. Ma’am, I thought since you know Mr. and Mrs. Peters . . .”
Komal looked hopeful, as Nina left her words open to interpretation. Aunty Lee did not think it a good idea to introduce her old friends to someone whom the Peterses would probably see as the cause of their present tragedy. But it was clearly something that little Komal had set her heart on. Aunty Lee looked at Nina’s mutely pleading expression and guessed the leverage she had used to get Komal to come back to Binjai Park.
“You think it would make Miss Marianne happy?”
“Yes, please, madam! It is the last thing I can do for Miss Marianne.”
“Remember what Marianne told Carla Saito about the guy planning a romantic getaway for two weeks? And then the young couple that found Laura Kwee’s body? They just got married and had their wedding dinner at the hotel the night before. Suppose it’s the same place. They were staying in a chalet, right? Find out more about that resort where they were staying, Nina. And I should be getting over to the hospital soon. Where is Carla Saito?”
Sometimes pieces just fell into place, Aunty Lee thought, as the phone and doorbell rang simultaneously. Aunty Lee answered the phone and Nina let Carla in.
“Yes. Shall we come over now?”
“I’m glad you came,” Aunty Lee said to Carla Saito. “Because there is someone else who wants to meet you.”
Carla knew where the Peters house was. She had been on the street outside it before, and had spent quite some time staring at it from across the road without attempting to go inside.
“I thought they were keeping Marianne prisoner in there,” she admitted. “I know it sounds stupid now. But at the time I remember Marianne saying how traditional and protective her parents were and I thought there was a good chance—or rather I hoped that’s where she was.”
An old black dog who had flopped down in the drive lifted his head hopefully as the gate opened.
“Hey, Chewy,” Carla said, and the dog thumped its tail politely but unenthusiastically. Clearly they were not who he was hoping to see.
“You know Chewy?”
“Marianne told me about Chewbacca. He was her dog for sixteen years; when they got him he was so small and scared she used to smuggle him in to sleep in her bed even though he wasn’t supposed to be inside the house. I think one of the reasons she wanted to come back here was to see Chewy.”
Aunty Lee had explained simply that she and a friend of Marianne’s had located Komal and were bringing her back. Komal had been frightened and still was; and “the friend” of Marianne’s wanted to talk to both Komal and her mistress.
Anne Peters looked at Carla Saito for so long without speaking that Aunty Lee wondered whether she had made a mistake in bringing her here.
Then Anne Peters said to Carla, “I think I always knew at some level. But you know what it is like being a minority. Even after we have been here for so many years. It would just have been one more thing to make her life more difficult. If she were here right now, we would be fighting about it. I would not approve because I am her mother and it is my job not to approve.”
“She kept saying it would have broken your heart, that you would never have approved,” Carla Saito said. She was daring Mrs. Peters to contradict her. She could not feel sorry for this woman who had been the cause of so much of Marianne’s unhappiness.
“It is my job to protect her from other people. But what can I do now?”
Carla said, “You can change other people.”
“I would not have approved. But it is wrong of you to say I would never have approved. Did Marianne tell you I was against my son marrying Cherril?”
Carla was confused by the change of subject. “She never mentioned that. But I remember her saying she was glad Cherril was around because you had someone to do stuff like shopping and manicures with. She hated stuff like that.”
“I always thought Marianne was a bit jealous. Cherril was Chinese and from a broken home. She was a flight attendant without a university degree. Please listen and let me finish—”
She held up a hand as Carla started to interrupt. “I didn’t approve because making a marriage work between two different personalities is difficult enough without adding two different backgrounds. And it was my duty as a mother to make potential difficulties clear to them. But once they were married, it was my duty as a mother to stand by them.”
“Marianne didn’t like Cherril. She said she didn’t know what Mycroft saw in her. She said you didn’t like her either, but you were pretending to because you wanted to have grandchildren.”
“It’s true. I didn’t like Cherril before she married my son. Now they are married it’s irrelevant whether I like her or not because she is family.”
Carla Saito waited.
Anne Peters went on: “You would have become family too, given time. I want you to know that.” That was why she had shared her initial reaction to Cherril Lim with Carla. It was something Marianne would have appreciated, Carla thought.
“The shock is still too strong. I know she is dead and I should feel worse. But she’s been away so much I still keep expecting to get another text message from her saying where she is now.”
“When did she send that last message?” Aunty Lee asked sharply. “And where is her phone? And her computer?”
She had been silent for so long that they had almost forgotten she was there.
“Marianne’s laptop is missing. Komal said she asked for it, which is strange because Marianne usually used the computer at work or her iPhone. The laptop was several years old and she hardly used it. And though she asked for her laptop, she did not ask for her charger.”
“You thought Komal stole her phone and her computer, didn’t you? But she didn’t. She brought them to the man she thought was Marianne’s boyfriend. And Mycroft knew that. He also knew Marianne didn’t have a boyfriend. So he thought you had sent Marianne for ex-gay therapy. That’s why he wouldn’t let anyone report her missing. Laura Kwee told Mycroft she had proof that Marianne was having an affair with another woman and she knew someone who could help her change. At the same time Laura befriended Marianne, telling her she was on her side and wanted to help her.”
