‘That’s the key to everything he’s been doing!’ I said. I remembered how I had thought Mr Wa Fan looked tired and thin. ‘Daisy, if Mr Wa Fan is dying, I don’t think he would have planned to kidnap Teddy. I know he’s cross with my father, and thinks he’s not being dutiful, but Mr Wa Fan and my grandfather were friends, and Teddy is my grandfather’s future. Mr Wa Fan wouldn’t try to hurt that future, not when he knew he was dying as well. I think that him hiring Detective Leung for my father makes perfect sense. He really was just trying to help.’
‘You truly think so, Hazel?’ asked Daisy, frowning. ‘You know, people do some dreadful things. You ought to be prepared by now.’
‘Yes,’ I said, ‘but in Mr Wa Fan’s religion – and my grandfather’s – you’re supposed to pay all your debts and settle your arguments before you die, see? And that’s what he’s doing.’ I got rather a lump in my throat at that. ‘And remember what the lift operator said, that he held Mr Wa Fan’s bag? If Mr Wa Fan had taken Teddy, he would have had to hide him in that bag. The lift operator would have noticed him. We can rule out Mr Wa Fan, Daisy!’
‘But what about the person the operator took up in his lift, just before Mr Wa Fan came down?’ asked Daisy. ‘Mr Svensson! His appointment was at eleven forty-five, and we saw him back out and in the bank at ten past twelve. So why was he going upstairs at eleven minutes past, unless it was to meet Wu Shing and get Teddy? He could have – I don’t know – put him in his attaché case?’
‘Perhaps,’ I said. ‘Daisy, do you think—’
There was a knock at our door. I went and opened it and there was May. She was scowling with concentration and clutching something in her small grubby hands. ‘I got something for you from the garden,’ she said. ‘It’s from that handsome pirate boy with no arm.’
‘Give it to me!’ I said.
‘Promise to give me your egg waffles for a week?’ said May, squinting up at me.
‘Monkey!’ I cried. ‘All right, I promise. Give it here!’
May pouted, and stuck out her fists at me. In them was a crumpled packet. It was dog-eared and dirty and covered in rips, but when I tore it open I found more betting stubs and a note, in shaky writing.
‘Daisy!’ I gasped. ‘Wu Shing was working for Mrs Fu! They knew each other, just like I thought! What if – what if kidnapping Teddy was all part of it, to give them more money to bet? And what if she killed him, so she wouldn’t have to split their winnings with him?’
‘Oh! Yes!’ cried Daisy. ‘Those betting stubs you found will prove it!’
I pulled the stubs from Mrs Fu’s rooms out of my pocket and looked at them. Were we about to discover who the person behind Teddy’s kidnap really was?’
9
I squinted at the smudged, rather grubby characters. Daisy, peering over my shoulder, said, ‘Oh, they’re all in code!’
‘It’s Chinese!’ I said. ‘And I can read it. Hold on, let me see.’
My Deepdean training did not matter now – this case might truly hinge on my Hong Kong childhood. I began to read.
And then I stopped. ‘Daisy,’ I said. ‘These stubs – they’re for the one o’clock race at Happy Valley on Monday. They’ve been put on a horse called Fet Lock, and it was a winner. Look, you can see the stamp. Remember what we know: that Mrs Fu went into Wu Shing’s lift just before twelve, and then went into the bank to withdraw money? We thought that she met him to give him the pin, and his final orders. The money didn’t make sense – but it does if he gave her a tip, and she went hurrying off to place it. And, Daisy, she would have had to hurry terribly. We saw her heading out of the bank at ten past twelve, and it’s almost forty minutes across the city to Happy Valley from Queen’s Road. Remember how long it took us to get to Wan Chai, last night? It’s even further. I don’t think she would have had time to take Teddy and then bet on Fet Lock – and besides, if she knew Fet Lock would win, she wouldn’t need the money from Teddy’s kidnap. She had another money-making scheme in place!’
‘Hazel, your reasoning is good,’ said Daisy. ‘And if Mrs Fu can’t have done it, I think we may have just solved the case!’
She ran to the window and leaned out, waving.
I followed her, and saw Ah Lan standing below our window next to a cart piled high with leaves and earth. He waved up at us and winked.
‘I like him,’ said May, behind us. ‘When I grow up and become a pirate queen, I’m going to marry him.’
I took the packet May had brought us, and on the other side wrote:
Then I stuffed the stubs I had found into it and threw it down into Ah Lan’s cart. Ah Lan nodded at me and winked again, and then trundled his cart away.
We shooed May out of the room (though she protested mightily), and then Daisy and I looked at each other. We thought we were getting close to knowing who had done it. But how could we prove it?
1
On Wednesday night after I wrote all that up, I could not sleep. It is hardly even spring in Hong Kong, and the nights are still cool enough, but English living has made me forget what true heat is. I tossed and turned, sweating, and Daisy said from the other bed, ‘Stop flailing, Hazel, it’s awfully annoying!’
But there was too much on my mind. My head ached, and there was a crick in my neck, and I couldn’t get comfortable, or find a cool place to rest my cheek. Tomorrow was Thursday, the day when we would get Teddy back – or not. I told myself that I had to be a detective, but at that moment I didn’t feel much like one. I missed Su Li horribly. I even missed Teddy, though I told myself that it was impossible to miss someone I barely knew.
The handover was planned for noon, by the Kowloon docks. At breakfast, Jie Jie asked to come along, but my father said no.
‘You will stay at home,’ he said. ‘I will manage this.’
‘Can’t I go?’ I asked, and my father glared at me. ‘Certainly not,’ he said. ‘I don’t want you near Detective Leung, Hazel. I will take care of this.’ I flushed with shame and nervousness and annoyance.
Everyone was fretful after Father had been driven away in his big black car to the Star Ferry dock to meet Detective Leung. They would decide how to plan the handover to ensure that Teddy came back safely.
May went chasing around the house, whirling a large oil-purple beetle on a string that she had got from somewhere. The beetle buzzed miserably, and Rose burst into sobbing tears.
‘Let it go!’ she wailed. ‘May, let it go!’
‘Rose, quiet!’ said Jie Jie, who was sitting on one of the chairs in the hall, staring straight ahead and squeezing her hands together until her nails dug into her skin.
My mother said, ‘If you don’t stop, I shall have your maid beat you.’
At that, Rose gasped and ran away upstairs, and May fled into the garden. ‘I’m going to find another beetle for Teddy!’ I heard her scream.
‘I cannot be in this house any longer. I’m going shopping,’ said my mother with a snap. ‘Tell someone to bring a car round. I hope it’s all over by the time I come home.’
She drove away, and I have never felt more useless. Daisy was vibrating with frustration at being so far from the action. She had come up with some hare-brained ideas, all of which were absolutely impossible: that we could get into the bank and inspect Mr Svensson’s account to see if he had drawn out cash to pay Wu Shing, or we could go to his house and accuse him directly.
All I wanted to do was go after Father. I no longer cared that Detective Leung might accuse me. I simply wanted to be at the docks, waiting for Teddy’s kidnapper. I knew that there would be many men there, but I also knew how busy it was, crammed with cross, hurrying people. Hong Kong is a city of business, and so everyone moves in their own world, rushing to get to the next place and not particularly bothering about looking around. There would be plenty of cover for someone to take a bag of money and leave a fat little baby without being seen, especially if they wore the ordinary servants’ uniform of white jacket and black trousers. They could dodge behind a ri
ckshaw driver or someone wheeling a cart piled with star fruit and leave no trace of themselves. If Daisy and I were there, we could at least help.
I looked at my wristwatch – it was ten minutes to ten. Just over two hours to go now. My heart hammered with each tick.
‘COME OUTSIDE, HAZEL!’ bellowed May suddenly. I jumped, and looked at Jie Jie.
‘Go, go,’ she said, wiping her hand across her face. ‘Please.’
Daisy and I went out onto the steps. May was bouncing about, her beetle whirling around her head peevishly. It had been joined by another.
‘The handsome boy gave it to me!’ she said happily. ‘Big Sister, he wants to see you.’
I looked at Daisy, and we both set off at a gallop round the side of the house. There, next to a pot of bright pink blooms, was Ah Lan, a rake in his hand and his hat on his head. He nodded at us casually.
‘I’ve got news,’ he said. ‘You’re right about Mrs Fu. Her alibi is good. She was seen by several people at Happy Valley just before one on Monday afternoon, placing her bet. I have also spoken to drivers who were at the bank that afternoon, and they confirm that when she left she was holding nothing apart from a slim bag. You might put banknotes in it – but not a baby. She could not have taken Teddy.’
‘So it really is Mr Svensson!’ cried Daisy. ‘Golly! But what do we do now?’
‘There are men watching his house,’ said Ah Lan. ‘If he leaves, we will follow. Mrs Svensson is out for the day, but he has not left yet.’
Daisy and I looked at each other. We were so close! Surely Mr Svensson couldn’t escape. Surely he would be caught when he tried to hand Teddy back?
2
‘Hazel!’ called Jie Jie. ‘Ying Ying! Come here!’
We rushed back into the hall and found her standing there, holding something in her hands. ‘Rose’s maid has just found this in the Music Room,’ she said. ‘It is one of your mother’s files from her nail kit. You know where she keeps her things, don’t you? Go and put it back in her room.’
I could have said no. I don’t have to obey Jie Jie when she says something. But I didn’t want to upset her any more that morning. I also understood what she was not saying – that she was afraid that if she went into my mother’s room, and my mother heard about it, she would be punished.
‘Yes, Jie Jie,’ I said. ‘Come on, Daisy.’
Up the stairs we went to my mother’s door. As I stepped inside, I felt as I always do, as though I was five and ought not to be in there – but Daisy, of course, pushed past me boldly and began to sort through the perfumes and potions on my mother’s dressing table while I looked about for the nail kit.
The kit is a pretty lacquered case with red butterflies chasing across it, very bright, and I ought to have noticed it at once. But I was in such a daze, my mind half on Teddy and half on what we had just learned about Mr Svensson, that I could not see it. Instead, I reached down and picked up another of my mother’s magic boxes, twisting and pressing it in my hands as I tried to think where on earth the kit could be hidden.
Daisy looked at the box and said, ‘She’s moved that since we were here on Tuesday. Remember? It was over on that cabinet there.’
‘Her maid must have done it,’ I said vaguely, my fingers moving almost automatically. It was a box that my father had given to my mother when I was small. I remembered him showing me the solution and laughing as my little hands stretched to wrap around it, and then giving it to my mother, who sighed and opened it in five sharp movements. My mother never did much care for my father’s games.
I used to think that, because I never saw her reading and never heard her speak English, she wasn’t clever – but then I discovered that she could do both perfectly well, but simply chose not to. She can read Chinese too – her own father taught her when she was a little girl – but she will only do it if she is forced to. ‘What is the point?’ she said to me more than once. ‘I have plenty of servants to read for me.’
I had felt sorry for her then, and decided that I did not want to be like her. I wanted to go to England, where girls could be clever. But now I know that it’s not so simple. My mind drifted, and I thought of clever fathers, and clever daughters. We had heard about a clever father recently – who was it? I couldn’t remember.
And, as I thought that, the box popped open in my hands, and I found myself staring down into the little wooden hollow.
I had heard something rattling inside, as I twisted it. It was a gold tag, the sort that usually goes with a key. On one side it said 213, and on the other (I turned it over curiously) PENINSULA HOTEL.
‘Why does your mother keep a hotel key tag in a box?’ Daisy asked me curiously, padding across the carpet and peeping over my shoulder. ‘Where’s the key itself? And where is the Peninsula, anyway?’
‘Kowloon,’ I said. ‘On the waterfront. Just past the Star Ferry dock. Remember, I pointed it out to you? It’s terribly posh. You can get a lovely afternoon tea there. It’s where the Svenssons used to live before their house was ready. It’s where – it’s where the handover is about to take place.’
We both froze.
‘Hazel,’ said Daisy quietly. ‘Hazel. Do you know where you might be able to telephone in peace, with no one wondering why you have a baby with you? A hotel room.’
‘You think that Mr Svensson and my mother—’ I said faintly. ‘Daisy! They— Mother couldn’t!’
‘No,’ said Daisy, wrinkling up her nose. Her face was paler than usual, but her eyes were glittering. ‘I don’t. We’ve never seen them speaking, have we? It’s not Mr Svensson and your mother who are always forced together while their husbands talk business.’
She turned back to my mother’s dressing table, and picked up the lavender scent that sat there among all of the others. She pressed the bulb, and the air was filled with a sweet, polite, purple perfume that smelled of England, and summer – and Mrs Svensson. She had been here – she and my mother were better friends than I had thought, if my mother had brought her to her room to talk. And I suddenly realized where else I had smelled it: Peking Mansions, in the room where we found Wu Shing’s body.
‘Hazel,’ said Daisy. ‘We’ve been thinking about this all wrong. This is a conspiracy between two people. Mrs Svensson and your mother.’
3
I reeled. I did not want to believe it – but there was the key tag, without its key, and my nose was still filled with Mrs Svensson’s perfume.
‘Listen,’ said Daisy. ‘We’ve been idiots. We knew the Svenssons need money, so we thought that gave Mr Svensson a motive. But of course it gives Mrs Svensson exactly the same one. And, in fact, we also know that Mrs Svensson is the more money-minded of the two. Her father was a famous mathematician. Mr Svensson is silly with money – we’ve heard lots of people say that he’s always asking your father for loans, and we watched him come and offer your father help he couldn’t afford to give. Mrs Svensson seems much more careful with money – and much more worried about their financial troubles. We heard her tell your mother so, didn’t we?’
‘No!’ I cried. ‘We heard them arguing. My mother hates Mrs Svensson! How can they be working together?’
‘Yes, we heard them arguing. But, Hazel, consider what we overheard. They were talking about money, and Teddy. They could just as easily have been two people discussing their conspiracy, Mrs Svensson warning your mother to hold firm by reminding her that, if they were caught, their children would suffer. And in terms of character they complement each other excellently. Mrs Svensson is bold, and your mother is a planner.’
‘Yes, but why?’ I cried.
‘Well, for Mrs Svensson it’s easy. She needs money to save her family. And your mother – why, that’s not hard, either. She hated Teddy being born. She’s angry with your father.’
‘But she wouldn’t agree to have Su Li killed,’ I said. ‘She – she wouldn’t. She knew her, Daisy. And she couldn’t kill Wu Shing, she wouldn’t be so heartless.’
‘Of course she
didn’t kill Wu Shing,’ said Daisy. ‘She couldn’t have left the house on Monday. Mrs Svensson probably did that— Oh, Hazel, think: that explains the ring. They gave money and jewels to Wu Shing as a reward for a successful kidnap. Then, when Mrs Svensson killed him, she took it all back, and gave your mother her ring when they saw each other on Tuesday. That’s why she wasn’t wearing it on Tuesday morning, but she was on Wednesday. But even if she didn’t kill him, I bet it was your mother who thought of hiring him. Remember, he used to work here? She would have known him, and known he needed the money.’
‘But the pin,’ I said weakly. ‘Ah Mah wouldn’t frame me!’
‘I do agree with you there,’ said Daisy. ‘She wouldn’t do that. So what if that wasn’t part of the original plan? What if Mrs Svensson found the pin after the party, and thought what a good opportunity it was? She gave it to Wu Shing that morning – somehow – and told him to use it in the murder. Then she’d have a way to make sure your mother didn’t get cold feet and admit what had happened. Oh, remember Mrs Svensson mentioning your name? That was— Hazel, that was her warning your mother to keep quiet!’
‘But it’s such an awful thing to do,’ I said, shaking my head as though Daisy was being idiotic. Except she wasn’t. My chest was aching and my heart was sinking, because, although I didn’t believe my mother could ever do something like this, I knew how long she could hold a grudge, and how elaborate her punishments could be.
‘You know your mother, Hazel,’ said Daisy. ‘Would she do this?’
A Spoonful of Murder Page 17
