‘What is he saying?’ Daisy was hissing in my ear. ‘What is it?’
‘Su Li is – was – his cousin!’ I told her. ‘He wants to find out who killed her, Daisy. He’s just like us.’
I turned back to Ah Lan. An uncomfortable thought had occurred to me. I remembered what Pik An had said: It’s not the maids in this house who are Triad …
‘How do you know that Sai Yat didn’t do it?’ I asked. ‘How can you be sure?’
‘How do you think?’ Ah Lan’s lips quirked up in a smile. ‘I’m not like Ng. I haven’t been initiated properly yet. I’m just a runner, a trainee. But I’m still one of Sai Yat’s representatives in this house, so I defend his honour, all right? He swore to me he didn’t do it, and that’s important. I believe him. He wants his name cleared, and he wants the person who really did it punished.’
Part of me was terrified. We were talking to one of the criminals I had warned Daisy about! It’s easy to say that Triads are nothing to be afraid of, until one of them is standing in front of you. But I knew I couldn’t let myself be afraid. ‘Then we’re on your side!’ I said. ‘You’re right – we’re trying to find out what happened too. We want justice for Su Li, and we want to get Teddy back. We have to find out who planned the crime.’
‘You’re only pretending to be detectives,’ said Ah Lan, smiling again in the same scornful way. ‘This is a game for you.’
‘Tell that boy that we are detectives, and we have solved FIVE MURDER CASES!’ snarled Daisy. I looked at her, astonished – apparently, she can tell when the Detective Society is being demeaned in any language.
‘Daisy is right,’ I said. ‘It’s not a game for us. It’s not just about Teddy, either. It – it matters to me, about Su Li. I loved her, just like you did. And we are detectives, proper ones, even though we don’t look it.’
‘And I’m the mountain master,’ said Ah Lan, rolling his eyes. ‘All right, all right! Don’t glare at me like that. I believe you.’
‘If you prove to us that Sai Yat didn’t do it, then we’ll help you find out who did,’ I said. ‘We can work together, all right?’
‘Hazel!’ said Daisy. ‘What are you up to? Are you expanding the Detective Society again?’
Ah Lan brushed a strand of hair off his face, looking thoughtful. It was a little like one of Alexander’s gestures, I thought, and my heart jumped just to think of him. But this boy, of course, wasn’t like Alexander at all.
‘I know where the gang meets,’ he said. ‘I can take you there, and show you a place to watch them from. There’s a meeting tonight to talk about Teddy. You’ll be able to hear for yourself that Sai Yat and his men have nothing to do with it.’
‘But how can we get out of the compound?’ I asked. ‘There are people watching us all the time.’
‘Hazel,’ said Daisy. ‘Hazel. HAZEL!’
‘What?’ I asked, whirling about to stare at her.
‘Hazel, if you’re talking about escaping, say to the boy—’
‘Ah Lan,’ I said.
‘Say to Ah Lan: garden soil cart. That’s all. Say it to him.’
I sighed. ‘You heard her,’ I told him.
I couldn’t think why Daisy wanted me to say those words, which sounded rather dirty, and entirely beside the point. But Ah Lan’s face lit up. ‘Garden soil cart!’ he cried. ‘Of course!’
‘Yes, he understands!’ said Daisy, nodding. ‘Listen, Hazel. This was the utterly brilliant idea I had this morning: the gardeners must get rid of dirt and leaves and things every evening. I suspect they put them in a compost heap that isn’t in the grounds. So, now that we know we have Ah Lan’s help, all he needs to do is—’
‘I can hide you in the cart, under the dirt, and wheel you out this evening!’ said Ah Lan to me in Cantonese. ‘It’ll be too smelly for the dogs to be able to catch your scent. All you need to do is make sure Ping falls asleep after dinner.’
‘Hazel, we simply need to make sure that Ping goes to sleep after dinner,’ said Daisy. ‘Does your mother take sleeping pills?’
I sighed. I looked from Ah Lan to Daisy, and saw them beaming at each other, the same light of mischief in their eyes. I thought that, no matter how little Daisy understood Hong Kong, her brain was just as sharp and odd as ever.
‘My mother does use something to make her sleep,’ I said, giving in to the plan. ‘And I know exactly where she hides it.’
1
I pushed open the door to my mother’s room. Daisy hovered behind me, watching the corridor for any passers-by. It’s funny – I can count on the fingers of both hands the number of times I’ve been inside my mother’s room in my life. It is a place where children do not go, where my mother goes to rest, away from us all. It hasn’t changed in all the years I have known it. Even before I stepped inside, I knew what I would find.
My mother’s room is as neat and clean as she is, pure white and gold. A high bed, hung with curtains and carved in dark latticed wood, a matching carved dressing table and chair with an oval mirror, perfumes and lotions lined up beneath it. Painted panels lick gold and silver across the walls, flowers and clouds surrounding great ladies in robes and elaborate hairdos.
‘Ooh,’ whispered Daisy, wide-eyed. ‘Oooooh, Hazel! It’s so chic! Just like your mother. Now I see why you’re so odd about clothes and so on. You don’t think you could ever match up to her.’
‘My mother has nothing to do with it!’ I protested, my face burning. As usual, though, I had the uncomfortable feeling that Daisy had hit the nail on the head. It’s not just Daisy that I compare myself to whenever I look in the mirror in a new dress or coat. It’s my mother. I used to stare at myself to understand how her features could have become mine, but all I could see was a rounder, softer version of my father’s face.
‘Of course she hasn’t,’ said Daisy, patting my arm. ‘Just like she has nothing to do with the fact that you’re such an excellent secretary. Your mother has an exceedingly tidy mind, just like you, Hazel. This room belongs to someone who makes lists, and plans everything out quite logically. Your father is clever, but he’s far more hasty than you, you must see that. No, your mother is why you’re such an excellent Watson.’
‘But—’ I said, and blinked. I have always simply known that because I am clever and bookish I take after my father. I said this to Daisy. She raised one perfect eyebrow.
‘Hazel,’ she said. ‘That is you thinking like a daughter, not a detective. Have I taught you nothing? Now, where is this sleeping draught that your mother has?’
‘It’s a remedy,’ I said. ‘My mother uses Chinese medicine, not Western. She’s always been cross that my father sends us to a Western doctor. This tea was mixed specially for her. It helps her fall asleep when she’s upset.’
My mother keeps her remedy hidden in one of her magic boxes. My father used to give them to her when they were first married, before I was old enough to be shown how to use them, and she still has them.
I stepped across the room, my feet soft on the carpeted floor, to my mother’s glossy wooden chest of drawers. Each of its handles was two silver birds, their wings touching, soaring upwards. On the top three carved wooden boxes were arranged next to my mother’s lacquered jewellery case. I picked up the smallest, and weighed it in my hand.
Opening magic boxes is a trick that I have used once before in our adventures. It’s all about pressure, knowing where to twist and where the give will be. I love the puzzle of it, how contained each problem is. The rest of the world melts away as I work on one, and the moment when the lid clicks open gives me the same rush of excitement as I get when we solve one of our detective cases.
This box was quite easy, and in less than thirty seconds I had it open. Daisy peered over my shoulder at what was revealed inside it – plump, strong-smelling little twists of paper from my mother’s favourite medicine shop.
‘They smell like penny chews!’ said Daisy, sniffing and then jerking back her head in surprise.
‘That’s the
liquorice,’ I said.
‘Well, you’ll have to make sure that Ping doesn’t smell it before she can drink the tea,’ said Daisy, drifting away. She wandered around the room to my mother’s dressing table, breathing deeply to take in the smell of her scents – sweet flowers with a bitter after-note.
‘Come on, Daisy,’ I said, pocketing three of the little packets before clicking the puzzle box shut again and carefully putting it back in place. ‘Let’s get out before someone catches us.’
2
I had been afraid that our ruse wouldn’t work, but in the end it was surprisingly easy. We asked Ping to bring us some tea after dinner, and while her back was turned I tipped the contents of the packets into the pot.
‘Ping, I’m sorry, but we don’t want this any more,’ I said. ‘You can have it if you like.’
Ping drank it down – and ten minutes later she was yawning and rubbing her eyes. ‘I’m so tired, miss,’ she said apologetically. ‘Please excuse me.’
I had a stab of guilt at that. It didn’t seem fair to trick someone so trusting. But it had to be done. I knew that. Ping staggered out of the room, and we were alone.
I went to the window and peered out. Dark had dropped, the sky was velvety and the lights of Hong Kong prickled across the mountain down to the bay. I could hear low voices as the house settled for the night, and soft pattering feet as the dogs, let out of their kennels at the back of the house, nosed about. Ah Lan would be in the garden, wheeling the cart towards us. All we had to do was meet him at the side door and slip under a dirty old sack in the cart – and then hope that the dogs didn’t smell us.
I told myself what I knew: that the dogs weren’t so fierce, that the real night watchers were the gardeners and house servants, and the men in their little huts near the gates.
But my heart was still thumping as I turned away from the window and nodded to Daisy.
I had changed into a dark tunic and trousers which were perfect for our adventure, and dressed Daisy in a matching set, tied tight with a bit of string. A dark scarf was wrapped around her head to hide her gold hair. She ought to have looked ridiculous, too thin and too tall, but of course she somehow managed to look utterly dashing, like May’s pirate queen.
‘You look marvellous,’ said Daisy to me. ‘Hazel, Hong Kong suits you.’
‘That’s not true! It’s you who look marvellous!’ I protested, blushing.
‘Hazel, I look as though I’ve borrowed your clothes,’ said Daisy. ‘I do not belong here in the slightest, but you do. Here you are more … Oh, I don’t know. More Hazel. But I must say, even though I do not belong, I like it here very much. And I like that we are about to go on one of our most exciting adventures to date. Creeping out of your house in the middle of the night to go to a robber meeting!’
‘It isn’t a—’ I began, but stopped myself.
‘Detective Society handshake before we begin?’ asked Daisy.
We shook, smiling at each other, and then, hand in hand, we crept out of our bedroom and down the dark stairs.
Ah Lan was waiting for us, exactly as he had promised. Seeing him, I got an anxious fear in my stomach. We thought we could trust him – but were we right? What if he had lied about being Su Li’s cousin, to lead us into danger? He had admitted to being part of Sai Yat’s Triad gang. What if he was about to simply turn us over to them? What if they had taken Teddy, and Daisy and I were to be their next victims? A lord’s daughter would be an excellent prize.
But I swallowed down my fears. I let Ah Lan tuck us into the cart, pushing a scratchy, smelly bag around us with his right arm and covering us up with clods of earth and rotting leaves. I breathed carefully and slowly, hearing Daisy breathing next to me, my eyes closed so that I could not see the rough weave of the bag in front of them.
The cart was lifted, and moved. Ah Lan groaned. ‘You’re heavy,’ he whispered in English.
‘We are exactly the right weight!’ hissed Daisy.
The cart jolted over the gravel of the path, then over earth, bumping and bucking so much that I was afraid we would be shaken off. I was embarrassed to think it now, but I had not been sure how Ah Lan would manage lifting the cart with his short left arm, but I saw now that I need not have worried. He manoeuvred it with ease, tucking his left arm under the handle expertly and pushing it forward. I could smell greenery, and hear cicadas screaming in the trees. My hands were fists at my sides. I heard the noise of feet pattering towards us, and panting.
‘Hello, Bark,’ said Ah Lan. ‘Good boy.’
Bark huffed, and I heard him snuffling around the cart. Then he sighed, and padded away. ‘Stay still,’ Ah Lan whispered to us. ‘Gate coming up.’
The cart paused and dropped, and I heard Ah Lan walking away. There was a clank, a click, and then we were moving again.
‘Night, Ah Lan,’ called the guard on duty at the back gate – and then we were out of the compound. We had done it. We were free, in Hong Kong, at night – and we were going on a real adventure.
3
Down the little side road we went, the trees low above us, dangling vines in our path. Once Ah Lan ducked, and I said, ‘What?’
‘Spider,’ said Ah Lan briefly in Cantonese, and I moved the sacking aside and squinted up to see a heavy round body and long thick legs, darker against the dark sky. It was so close that I could have reached up and touched its thick web. I shuddered. Spiders in England, as little and scuttling as flies, have never frightened me, for this is what a spider is in my mind – something teacup-large, a horrid weight on your hand or on your shoulder, shiny and brightly coloured in the daytime. Hong Kong spiders are worth being afraid of.
‘What was it?’ Daisy asked.
‘Just a low branch,’ I said reassuringly. ‘Don’t sit up for a while, all right?’
Then, in one of the strange jumps that Hong Kong is full of, we jolted out of the jungle and turned left onto the main road. Suddenly we were among other carts, smooth black cars, rickshaws and street hawkers. The air was full of sound, and Daisy and I had to duck under our covering so as not to be seen.
Ah Lan wheeled us down the road, going west, the cart dodging and bouncing on the tarmac, and then sent us shooting down a side street. There was a plunge, and teeth-rattling jolts. Daisy let out a small shriek, and I bit my tongue. We were going down a ladder street – stone steps that cut down the hill between the long parallel streets of Hong Kong.
We spun, we bounced, Daisy yelped again, and then we were running along a flat main street in Western District. There were neon lights burning above our heads, from pawnshops and medicine shops and jewellery stores and laundries. I peeked out from under our covering and saw them spinning by like a rainbow above my head, flashy and gorgeous. I could smell hot, steamy cooking, see billows of smoke from street vendors’ stalls, and in the tenement flats above the shops people leaned out, lit from below by the neon signs, smoking or talking or just staring down at the street.
I ducked back under cover, and when I peered out again we were in a darker side street, rushing past high warehouses, Ah Lan’s steps echoing against their walls. I shivered, just a little. And then the cart stopped.
‘Get out,’ said Ah Lan. He said it in English, for Daisy. I sat up, and Daisy did too, and for a moment we stared at each other. The whites of her eyes were pale in the dark, but her hair was still hidden under its wrap.
‘Where do we go?’ I whispered to Ah Lan. We had come to a stop next to a high stone wall, with a tree cutting down the middle of it, its roots wriggling into the stones.
‘Up,’ said Ah Lan briefly, gesturing. ‘Over the wall is the house we are going to. We need to get up high, and look through the window. I will show you. It’s always kept a little open, and through it you can hear everything. All right?’
My heart sank, but Daisy said, ‘Oh good! Climbing!’
‘Why is it always climbing?’ I said. ‘Wherever we go!’
‘Stop complaining, Hazel, or you’ll have no breath left
to climb,’ said Daisy with a wink – and she seized hold of the lowest root and began to scamper up the wall, as balanced and sure-footed as a monkey.
‘She’s done this before,’ said Ah Lan approvingly. ‘Go on.’
I winced, for I knew that I was about to disappoint him very much. I put my hand on the same root Daisy had, its bark scratching my palm, and began to haul myself up. My heart pounded, and I tried not to look down. Daisy, perched high above me, whispered cheerful encouragement (mixed in with criticisms about my choice of branches that I could have done without).
Sweating, I finally pulled myself up beside her at the top of the wall, and looked down the dizzying perspective below us to see Ah Lan swinging himself towards us, kicking off with his legs, seizing branches with his right arm and using his left to steady himself.
‘Honestly, Hazel, he’s far better at it than you,’ Daisy muttered in my ear. ‘You must apply yourself if you want to get ahead!’
‘Shush,’ I said to her, as rudely as I dared. ‘Or someone will hear.’
In another minute, Ah Lan was up beside us. The three of us teetered at the top of the wall (I breathed out, trying to calm my nerves, and stop the spinning in my head – I really am still not good with heights, despite all of Daisy’s attempts to cure me), and Ah Lan pointed down below.
There was a courtyard leading to a tall warehouse that looked quite old and uninhabited. In fact, I was almost wondering whether Ah Lan had brought us to the wrong place when I saw two figures appearing from the shadows at the other side of the courtyard and walking silently up to the building’s main door.
The first figure knocked, a pattern of five long and short raps. There was a pause. Then a bolt was drawn back. The three of us, listening, all heard it, and Daisy nudged me so hard that I almost fell off the wall.
A Spoonful of Murder Page 12
