Aunty Lee's Delights Part 5

7.

Putting Information Together Over the next few days the grisly details about the body on Sentosa were released to the public via the press and the Internet. Aunty Lee read the papers herself repeatedly, with her magnifying gla.s.s, as though afraid Nina would miss something, and she asked Nina to start accounts with all the online news and gossip sites so that Aunty Lee was kept up-to-date with speculations and possible sightings.

The few facts were unpleasant. Laura Kwee's body had been found wrapped in a plastic bag. Her body might have been in the seawater for up to a week-or more. It was hard to say exactly. She had died of suffocation and traces of drugs had been found in her system.

This last information had not come from the newspapers. It was not for nothing that Aunty Lee had been married to a man who had donated enough money to the Singapore General Hospital (where the postmortem was performed) to have a wing of that inst.i.tution named after him. Aunty Lee had made a few social calls, asked a few curious questions . . . and been told the drug found in Laura Kwee's system was ketamine.

Nina had looked up the details for her. " 'Ketamine is used as an anesthetic for both humans and animals,' " she read off her iPad. " 'These days it is used more on animals, and in America and Australia, veterinary clinics get broken into for their supplies. It is banned in Singapore but still surfaces occasionally as "Vitamin K" or "Kit Kat." It is more commonly found in Hong Kong, the United States, and Australia, where it is the drug of choice at dance parties or raves because it produces a state of dreamy intoxication that lasts for an hour or less.' "

"An hour or less," Aunty Lee repeated. "That is better than getting drunk, right? Why is it banned here when they still allow people to get drunk and drive cars? Are there side effects? Does it cause cancer?"

"There are other bad effects, ma'am. It can cause memory problems and it can make some people react aggressively or violently."

"Again no different from people going and getting drunk, what!"

Nina speed-read on. Facts were facts but she didn't like the conclusion Aunty Lee was drawing so far. It was not safe in Singapore for anyone-even old ladies-who thought drugs were not dangerous. Though in Aunty Lee's case, she was more likely to have trouble with the authorities than with addiction.

" 'It is dangerous because you can feel drunk even if you have not touched any alcohol. You may lose your sense of time and ident.i.ty and think you are having out-of-body experiences. People use it as a date-rape drug because it is very fast acting. People have said the last thing they remember is having a drink, then everything after that is blurry.' "

"Still doesn't sound so different from people getting drunk," Aunty Lee said stubbornly. "You should hear some of the things people say when they have been drinking too much. Not only the men. The women, maybe because they are less used to drinking in public, can be much, much worse!"

Nina shook her head. She had real work to do-there was always something that needed to be done in the house or in the shop. People who came in and said how beautifully organized everything was did not realize that maintaining things in the right places, functioning and dust-free, was a full-time nonstop job. And that was before factoring in a busybody old lady who was always bringing home strange things and stranger people just because they had caught her interest. Not for the first time Nina thought wistfully of a nursing job where her off time was hers alone. But she knew she would not leave the cafe if she were given the chance. Even if Singapore was not home to her, Aunty Lee was definitely family.

Nina slid one of the cutlery drawers off its rails and carried it into the living room. This was where she usually took care of noncooking ch.o.r.es because while she worked she could answer Aunty Lee's questions and read her anything required.

"Would you take this Vitamin K or Kit Kat?" Auntie Lee asked suddenly.

"No, ma'am. Of course not. I'm not crazy. These things are bad for you."

"Why do you think Laura Kwee took it, then? She didn't drink much. She wasn't even used to wine. You remember how she behaved at the first dinner?"

Of course Nina remembered. Laura Kwee had tasted all the wine in all her gla.s.ses before realizing Mark meant to walk the guests through the samples one by one. Seated between Mycroft Peters and Harry Sullivan, Laura had chattered to both of them till, rebuffed by Mycroft, who fixed his attention firmly on Mark (Mycroft took wine seriously-but then Mycroft took most things seriously), she had focused on Harry, who, himself, was leaning across to whisper to Marianne, who was seated on his other side. Laura had reminded Nina of a schoolgirl trying to get a boy's attention. She had waved to Nina and asked her to top up her gla.s.ses. Nina got no direction from Mark or Selina, who were deliberately ignoring Laura. Laura, getting impatient, waved two of her already empty gla.s.ses in the air. She knew she was not drunk. After all, Mark had a.s.sured her that people never got drunk at wine tastings. She was just slightly tipsy and feeling daring and sophisticated . . .

"Do you remember what Laura said to Marianne that night?" Aunty Lee's thoughts had obviously run along the same lines as Nina's. "Something about her supposed holiday plans? And I could see Marianne was quite cross with her. Do you know what she was talking about?"

Nina had no idea. All she remembered was Aunty Lee calling her to the pantry and pa.s.sing her a bottle of red wine to top up Laura's gla.s.ses.

"The same in all the gla.s.ses?" Nina had been concerned. Mark had been very particular earlier about not getting his special wines and the sequence of gla.s.ses mixed up. What Aunty Lee handed her was one of the bottles kept in the kitchen for adding body to soups and sauces.

"She won't be able to tell the difference."

In retrospect, it had probably been a bad idea. But at the time their only concern had been to keep Laura satisfied and quiet. Instead she had gone on giggling and whispering, rolling her eyes when Mark glared and Selina shushed her. Laura had definitely not been used to wine. Selina had been so furious with the woman that Nina would not have been surprised if Laura had been banned from all future wine dining events. But apparently Laura had apologized abjectly, offered to help at future wine tastings (for free), and been forgiven.

Laura Kwee had not struck Aunty Lee as the sort of person to experiment with drugs. In her thirties, she had been a secondary school teacher until she gave it up for a career in arts management. She had probably hoped that the change would lead to meeting exciting people and becoming or marrying an arts impresario, but so far her life had plodded on without any sign of taking off.

Laura Kwee had always seemed a safe, responsible, rather dull woman to Nina. Overly concerned with what other people thought of her perhaps. And overly disappointed with how little most did. Several times she had tried to get Nina to tell her what Aunty Lee and Mark "really" thought of her. It had been easy for Nina to say honestly that she had never heard Laura's name mentioned.

"Maybe someone gave it to her? Put it in her drink or something?"

Things like that happened on television, but it was hard to imagine it happening in Singapore, and to someone like Laura Kwee. It was not just the difficulty of imagining Laura Kwee in a nightclub partying and drinking, but why Laura Kwee? Why would someone have picked her?

"I have to talk to that girl again. That American girl," Aunty Lee said. "You wrote down her hotel and mobile phone, right?"

"Ma'am, if you don't know what is happening, how can she know? That Carla Saito just arrived in Singapore, she never met Laura Kwee before."

"But there's something she knows and wouldn't say. I could see it very clearly. I just didn't want to push her with everybody around. And those Cunninghams are also not saying something. I could see it from how they reacted to her when she came in. Maybe it's the drug connection. Maybe they were Laura's drug connection. You heard them say they came to meet her too, right?"

"You can ask Senior Staff Sergeant Salim about the drugs," Nina said, seeing a familiar car pull up outside the gate. "But careful-he'll think you want to take drugs to go party!"

"I doubt he'll tell me. Anyway, he may not approve of us knowing such things." Aunty Lee stopped and looked around, nose twitching slightly as though she were trying to detect an elusive scent. Her hearing and eyesight might be failing, but she could still read people better than most. The change in Nina's attention had alerted her.

"What is it? Is somebody here? Who is it? Not that policeman again?" Without looking out her front windows, Aunty Lee deduced the arrival of SSS Salim before he had time to buzz the gate intercom. She perked up immediately.

"That's good. Maybe he can answer some of my questions. Let him in, Nina. Put him in the living room and give him a drink. I have to go and change my clothes."

The automatic gate clicked open and SSS Salim walked up the short stretch of gravel driveway that led up to the house. This time he was able to take in details he missed on his previous visit with all his thoughts focused on the dead woman. A lane branched off, leading around and behind the house-to a garage, Salim presumed, since he could not see any cars. The staff sergeant stopped at the steps leading to the gla.s.sed-in verandah. It was clearly designed to be enjoyed in air-conditioning. This was how the rich lived in equatorial heat: enjoying green lushness within a s.p.a.ce of air-conditioned comfort.

Salim took a deep breath to prepare himself. He was not intimidated by the rich. In his opinion, having money did not make you a better or worse person. But in his experience, while the very wealthy and the very poor were relaxed in their dealings with others, those in between could be more difficult to deal with. They were very conscious of trying to climb into what they saw as the upper cla.s.s and very afraid of sliding down into the lower. They were also generally very eager to show how well they knew their rights by being unhelpful and rude to a police officer who was just trying to do his job. SSS Salim had asked his aide to wait in the car so that it could be moved immediately if anyone had to go in or out. Some people also leaped at the chance of reporting police vehicles every opportunity they got. SSS Salim did not really mind that either. It kept his men on their toes, making them more vigilant. But it also meant a lot of time spent on paperwork and he had other problems to deal with right then.

"Please come in and take a seat. Aunty will be coming soon. You want to drink coffee or tea or soft drink?"

Again his presence seemed to have been antic.i.p.ated, but SSS Salim didn't mind. He had noticed the maid from his previous visit hovering protectively around her mistress. Most people did not bother to notice maids and cleaners, likewise drivers and technicians, but these were the people Salim had grown up with. Salim also remembered this woman because she had not struck him as a domestic helper at first-or even a waitress-though she had been waiting on Aunty Lee. Was it her posture? Her clothes? SSS Salim could not say. Her manner as she welcomed him into the house now was faultless, as it had been a few days ago.

"Thank you," SSS Salim said. He hesitated.

"Sir, no need to take off shoes," the girl said.

She was very good at reading people, SSS Salim thought. Had he been on a private visit, he would likely have removed his shoes nonetheless. But today SSS Salim was calling on Mrs. M. L. Lee on official business and the Singapore police force did not take off its shoes for anybody.

The living room was large and airy. On the walls, modern white curving shelves undulated above stolid pieces of heavily inlaid teak furniture. SSS Salim was no expert in old furniture, but he guessed these were antiques and probably expensive. He sat down. The sofa seemed to be made of bamboo, but the thick green seat was comfortably cus.h.i.+oned. Overall, the room had an effect of lightness above and solidity beneath. Somewhat to his surprise, Salim immediately felt comfortable there.

"You work in the cafe also?" Salim asked the maid. The question would have sounded purely conversational to anyone unfamiliar with Singapore's Ministry of Manpower rule that stated that a foreign domestic helper "shall not engage in any form of employment, paid or unpaid, other than that of a Domestic Helper."

Nina was only too aware that Aunty Lee could be fined and she herself deported if this man decided to make trouble. Even as she decided she didn't like him, Nina knew she could not let him see she did not like him. She gave him a wide, shy smile that could have meant anything.

"How long have you been working in Singapore?"

"Sir, I like work in Singapore very much!" Nina beamed to make up for the abrupt deterioration of her spoken English.

SSS Salim looked at her suspiciously, but before he could say anything further, they heard the chair lift descending the stairs. The chair lift that followed the curve of the specially constructed staircase had been installed after the late M. L. Lee broke his ankle in a golf accident. Normally it was used only to transport Aunty Lee's enormous ornamental flowerpots between floors. But Aunty Lee knew how to make an appearance and did so now.

Even Nina, who knew her better than anyone alive, was taken aback. Earlier Aunty Lee had been perfectly presentable in her usual work-at-home outfit of a comfortable T-s.h.i.+rt and what she called her tai chi trousers. Now she was wearing a coa.r.s.e, dark blue silk blouse over loose natural linen trousers. She was also wearing her pearls.

"How nice to see you again, Sergeant," Aunty Lee greeted SSS Salim graciously. To her, comfort meant being dressed for the job. It was obvious to her that getting the upper hand in an interview with a police officer required a different outfit from supervising the cleaning of bean sprouts.

Nina remained in her typical at-home attire-today she was wearing a light pink T-s.h.i.+rt beneath a flowered sundress. It was Aunty Lee who had come up with this compromise after Selina declared the sundresses Aunty Lee had bought for Nina (so cheap, so comfortable, after they wear out you can use them for cleaning or patchwork) not suitable for a maid. Her chief objection had been to the strappy top and bare shoulders, which would catch the attention of men and boyfriends and lead to rape, pregnancy, abortions, and other such expense-causing phenomena. Selina was firmly convinced that how women dressed, talked, and behaved was to blame for unwanted male attention.

But now Aunty Lee did not depend solely on her appearance. Right now she was playing the grande dame, very different from the busy cafe chef.

"How nice to see you again, Senior Staff Sergeant. Do take a seat if you haven't come to arrest me. You haven't? Oh good.

"I gather you are here about the body on Sentosa. Such a terrible place. I still remember stories about dead bodies was.h.i.+ng up on the beach there in the morning after the j.a.panese took Chinese men and boys out on boats at night. They tied them together before they shot them and threw them in, so that even if they didn't die right away from the bullets, they would drown. Of course, at that time it was just a Malay fis.h.i.+ng kampong there. And the Malay villagers would secretly bury the bodies, and even years later, when the wives and mothers and sisters came to ask, they could tell them where their men were buried. Did you know that? It is part of our history, how an outside threat made different races here watch out for each other. But nowadays people are not interested in that, they only want to know about property values."

That was rich, Salim thought, coming from someone whose District 10 property was probably among the highest valued on the island. But he appreciated Aunty Lee's attempt to establish a connection with him. And he wanted information from her too, so he responded in kind.

"My uncles used to tell us about that time when they brought us fis.h.i.+ng as kids. Every school holiday we used to look forward to going out on the boats. From Pasir Panjang right across to Sentosa. For us it was just fun. And sometimes when we went out night fis.h.i.+ng, we would try to scare each other. But my uncles always told us to respect the dead."

"Speaking of the dead," Aunty Lee said, now that tea had arrived and her welcome accepted. "Are you here to talk about Laura Kwee's cell phone?"

"Laura Kwee's cell phone was found in a burning bin outside your shop." SSS Salim got straight to the point.

"The red metal one below the flowerpots?"

"Yes. Mrs. Lee, I would like to ask you to help us by telling me who was present at your cafe that night. We are interviewing all the proprietors along that stretch."

"Wait, wait. Slow down for me, young man. You say you found Laura Kwee's phone in the burning bin-you were looking for it there? Why?"

Nina was impressed anew by Aunty Lee's acting skills. But then again, she might not have been acting. She genuinely wanted to know why the police were following up on this particular tip, given the many others she had called in.

"Yes, ma'am. It was fortunate that Laura Kwee had previously downloaded the GPS tracking application onto her phone. We knew that Mrs. Mark Lee received a text message from Laura Kwee's cell phone before the dinner that night. Therefore we know her phone had to be turned on so that the stolen-phone recovery application could work. Normally a mobile phone can only be traced when it is still on because the lookout servers need to be able to trigger the phone to use its GPS chip to determine the phone's location. This is the case with all stolen-cell-phone recovery programs. However, we were able to get enough information off the servers to be able track its approximate location at the time the message was sent."

SSS Salim spoke as though this elaborate system was just a matter of course, but it was clear to Nina that he expected her and Aunty Lee to be impressed. Though she was impressed, Aunty Lee was focusing on something else.

"Wait, wait, wait a minute. That means that when I am carrying my hand phone, then you can track to where I am whether it is on or off?"

"Oh no, ma'am. Your phone has to be on so that it can use the servers or GPS to figure out where it is."

"But you managed to find Laura Kwee's phone even though it was off-unless it was still on?"

"No, no. That is different altogether. Because it is a crime investigation-"

"That means actually you can track whoever you want, but only the police are allowed to do it?"

Aunty Lee seemed genuinely curious. SSS Salim had encountered many hostile civilians and didn't think she was one of them.

"If I lose my phone, can you use that tracking system to find it for me?"

SSS Salim decided to get the conversation back on track. "Probably not, madam. The reason why I came to see you today is to tell you that though we found the phone, the SIM card had been removed. We would like to take a look inside your shop to see if we can find it there."

"Why do you think you will find it there?"

"It is one of several locations we are searching, ma'am.

"Someone in the vicinity of the shop must have sent that message and left the phone there," SSS Salim continued as though Aunty Lee had not spoken. "We would like to know who was there that night as well as how we can contact them."

Aunty Lee nodded to herself. SSS Salim looked at her, then in Nina's direction. Had he said too much too fast? He reminded himself that Mrs. Lee was an old lady. Worse, she was an important old lady. Salim had already been told to be "sensitive" in dealing with her and had thought that coming to see her in person was the way to be sensitive.

Nina was not concerned-at least not for Aunty Lee. She knew that look. Aunty Lee was processing. When she was ready she would- "Do you need to get a search warrant to check my shop?"

Again Salim did not sense hostility.

"If necessary, I will have to get one. But I thought that if we can come to an agreement, then you can give us permission to look around your shop, and if we find anything, then we will take it from there."

SSS Salim did not want to frighten the woman by putting it too bluntly, but- "You say Laura Kwee was already dead at the time when the message was sent. That means you don't think Laura sent the message from my shop. You think that the murderer sent it, right?"

"Well, we must not jump to any conclusions-"

"That means you think that one of the people who was there in my shop was the murderer who made the call! Nina! Nina!"

"Yes, ma'am?"

"Go and get the paper for him. You know the one we made that night with all the people and where they were around the time when Silly-Nah got the message . . ."

Now it was Aunty Lee's turn to look modestly efficient. SSS Salim was impressed. He was even more impressed when Nina returned with the list.

Mrs. Rosie Lee-front shop, dining room, kitchen, pantry, outdoor cooking area (behind kitchen).

Nina Balignasay-dining room, kitchen, pantry, outdoor cooking area.

Mark Lee-dining room. Made several trips out to his car to get things he had forgotten.

Selina Lee-sidewalk, front shop. Used her mobile phone to text and call.

Harry Sullivan-sidewalk. Stayed outside till last minute smoking because no smoking inside, dining room.

Frank and Lucy Cunningham-front shop, dining room, toilet, Lucy Cunningham was texting, Frank Cunningham went out front and back to take photographs.

Cherril Lim-Peters-dining room, went to car several times with Mark Lee.

Carla Saito-outside somewhere. She said that she came looking for Laura Kwee and had come straight in as soon as she arrived, but in fact she arrived much earlier and was watching from outside.

The contact numbers for all these people were written down in Nina's careful script on the reverse side of the paper.

SSS Salim was very impressed. People were always coming up with ideas and suggestions on how he could do his work better, but they seldom pa.s.sed him anything he could use, and even when they did, it was never so organized. In fact Aunty Lee's list reminded him of an ingredient list for one of his grandmother's recipes; written out casually but carefully.

"How do you know that?" SSS Salim asked, pointing to the comments that appeared after Carla Saito's name. "Did you see her outside? What was she doing?"

"Oh no. I didn't see her outside. If I had, of course I would have asked her to come in!"

"Then how do you know she hadn't just arrived?"

"We didn't hear a taxi. And she was sweaty but breathing slowly. As though she had been standing still in the heat for some time, not like somebody who had just walked in from the main road. And when she came inside to talk to us, I could see that right away she was looking at the women to see which of them was Laura Kwee. That showed that she didn't know who Laura Kwee was and that she already knew how many women were in the room. Therefore she must have been watching for some time, to know who came in."

All that made sense. "Thank you. I will keep it in mind," SSS Salim said.

"But you shouldn't waste time suspecting her," Aunty Lee said firmly. "Why I want you to take note of her now is because if Carla Saito was outside the shop for a while, she might have noticed whoever put the phone into the burning bin-if that's when they did it."