Lizard's Tale

by Weng Wai Chan

  ‘Are you sure?’ Lili put a hand inside the space and searched. ‘You’re right. But the meeting is not until 10pm. Maybe they’ll put the maps and photographs in there just before they leave for the boat.’

  ‘That means they’ll be back pretty soon,’ Lizard said in alarm.

  ‘So we better find the papers before they come.’ Lili slid the tray back in, put the screen back and stood up.

  ‘Well, my guess is if there are secrets, they’ll be in there,’ Lizard said, gesturing at the darkroom door. ‘That’s where Mr Nakajima develops his film for his photographs.’

  Lili headed towards the darkroom door but stopped short. She looked at the photographs on the wall next to the door.

  ‘What a nerve!’ she fumed.

  ‘Sorry?’ said Lizard, raising his eyebrows.

  ‘Look at this! Army officers, the harbour, even the Naval Base!’ Lili gestured at the photographs. ‘Anyone would know straight away a spy took them!’

  Lizard stared at them. ‘Yes,’ he said, rubbing the back of his neck, which felt rather warm. ‘Straight away, sure. Gosh. What a cheek. Yes.’

  Lili tried the handle. ‘I’ll never go anywhere without this again,’ she said, holding up her lock-picking tool.

  ‘Do you think I should cause a real plumbing problem in case someone comes by?’ asked Lizard.

  ‘Yuck!’ said Lili, without stopping her lock-picking efforts.

  ‘I don’t mean that,’ protested Lizard. ‘I mean pour water on the floor or something.’

  ‘I think it’s better if we try to get in and out without anyone knowing we were here. All right, got it.’ She twisted the handle and opened the door.

  Lizard turned the light on and the room filled with a red glow. Uncle Archie wasn’t here either.

  Lili turned the light off in the studio before joining Lizard in the darkroom.

  ‘This red light is for developing film. There should be another switch…that’s it,’ she said, as Lizard turned it on. The space was very neat.

  ‘Smells bad in here.’ Lili wrinkled her nose. ‘Like vinegar and rotten eggs.’

  ‘It’s the chemicals,’ Lizard said, pointing to the row of glass bottles on a shelf above a long metal sink to their left. A wooden bench with a curtain beneath it ran along the back wall.

  Lili turned to a cupboard on her right and opened its doors. There were some clothes on hangers on the left side and shelves with photographic equipment on the right. She took down a box of metal clips. A few fell out and she quickly picked them up.

  ‘What are these for?’ she asked Lizard as she dropped the clips back in the box.

  ‘Hanging up the photographs to dry,’ he replied. ‘Don’t bother with that cupboard. It’s too obvious. There won’t be anything worth finding in there.’

  ‘Max Ops training: search methodically,’ said Lili, putting the box of clips back in the cupboard.

  ‘Real life training: not secret enough,’ said Lizard. ‘Also, time running out.’

  He went to the bench, knelt down and flipped the curtain up. There was a large cardboard box under it. Lizard reached in and pulled it out. It was surprisingly light. In fact it was empty.

  ‘Well lookee here, missy,’ said Lizard, pointing to a padlocked trapdoor set into the floor.

  ‘Don’t call me missy,’ Lili said, crouching down next to Lizard. She took out the key that Miss Adelia had given her. ‘I hope this key fits because that padlock looks very hard to pick.’

  ‘Wait!’ Lizard whispered in alarm. ‘Did you hear something?’

  They kept still, hardly daring to breathe. After a minute, Lili whispered, ‘Nothing to hear now. What was it?’

  ‘I heard a scrape,’ Lizard whispered back.

  ‘Probably from outside, cleaning staff maybe.’ She looked at the space under the bench, and at the box. ‘Fold up the box so there will be room for us in case we need to hide behind the curtain.’

  Lizard did as she said and stashed the box flat against the wall under the bench, while Lili unlocked the padlock and opened the trapdoor. Lizard held his breath as she lifted the lid—would Uncle Archie be there?

  ‘Look!’ Lili whispered excitedly. Lizard peered into the space and was disappointed to see that it wasn’t big enough to hold a man. But there was a radio and a set of headphones. Next to them was a large brown envelope. Lili pulled the envelope out and handed it to Lizard.

  ‘Take a quick look,’ she said, while she pulled out her spy camera. She took a photograph of the radio, then put the camera away again.

  ‘What’s there?’ she said, as Lizard pulled a few pages out of the envelope. There were photographs of docks, naval ships and aeroplanes and maps of the Malay Peninsula, with red crosses marked on them. There were also several sheets of numbers and Japanese script.

  ‘Maps,’ Lizard said.

  ‘Invasion plans,’ Lili said. ‘All in code! I can’t wait to smash their stupid code into a thousand pieces.’

  Lizard pointed to a map that showed Raffles Hotel circled in red, with some Japanese writing next to it.

  ‘That bit’s not coded. What does it say?’ asked Lizard.

  ‘“Inform pilots to avoid this target!”’ Lili translated, scowling. ‘They must have other plans for Raffles.’ She took the envelope from Lizard. ‘Let’s go. We’re done.’

  ‘Are you going to take photographs of all this?’ asked Lizard.

  ‘No time. We must get out of here. We’re taking it all with us.’ She turned her back on Lizard, folded the envelope in half and tucked it inside the front of her trousers. Lizard tried to be polite and not look.

  They moved out from under the bench. Lili shut the trapdoor and locked the padlock.

  Just then, the front door rattled and two male voices spoke in Japanese as they entered the studio. One of them sounded annoyed.

  Lili and Lizard stared at each other, horrified. ‘Quick, get back under here!’ Lili hissed, gesturing to the bench. Lili leapt to switch the light off and felt her way in the darkness to the bench, where she ducked under the curtain and squeezed in next to Lizard.

  Just as the curtain drifted back down again, the door opened and the room filled with light. Lili and Lizard were squashed up against each other, their knees tight against their chests, shoulders scrunched in. Lili couldn’t see Lizard’s face, but she could hear him breathing into her ear. Her left palm was pressed on the floor with her little finger touching the curtain. In fact, she wasn’t certain that a tiny part of it wasn’t poking out but she was too scared to move it.

  The men were moving around the room. Lizard recognised the voices of Mr Nakajima and Nobu.

  Through the curtain, Lili saw the shadow of Mr Nakajima approaching the bench. He was complaining about how Miss Adelia’s Singapore Sling had spilt on his camera. They heard him put the camera on the bench.

  Then the cupboard door creaked open and clothes hangers moved on the metal rail. Mr Nakajima must be changing his stained shirt, thought Lili. The grumbling continued, mixed with the sound of clothes being thrown into the metal sink.

  After a year of Japanese lessons at school, Lili could understand much of what the men were saying: mostly unflattering comments about the British partygoers and how undisciplined they were.

  ‘It makes me sick to bow and smile to these Westerners who think they are so superior to us. When we sweep in right under their noses and take over’—here Lili listened hard—‘then we will be the ones laughing.’

  Mr Nakajima put the clothes he had just taken out of the cupboard onto the bench. Lili and Lizard both held their breath.

  Suddenly, Lili felt an enormous pain in her little finger. Mr Nakajima had stepped on it. His shoe ground down on her finger, and her mouth stretched open in a silent, agonised scream. Then, to her immense relief, Mr Nakajima moved away, complaining that he would have to wear stained socks as he didn’t have another pair in the cupboard.

  ‘Hai,’ Mr Nakajima said. ‘Enough for one night. Those British
fools know nothing of the Emperor’s intentions. That officer Percival—ha! No idea that our plans to invade Malaya are so advanced. With officers like that, a bunch of pink-faced snow monkeys could take Singapore.’

  Lili and Lizard hardly dared to hope that Mr Nakajima and Nobu were leaving now, and that they might get away without being discovered.

  ‘I’ll get one of the room boys to have my clothes laundered tomorrow,’ Mr Nakajima said. He shut the cupboard door, then walked towards the door. ‘Don’t forget to turn out the light.’

  ‘Hai!’ said Nobu as he followed him. But then he stopped. To her horror, Lili heard him say, ‘Matte kudasai.’ Wait. ‘Nan desu ka?’ What is that?

  Her heart was thumping too fast to do anything. She knew, just knew, that she had left something on the floor…

  ‘Kurippu?’ Mr Nakajima’s slow voice confirmed her awful suspicion. Kurippu. Clip. One of the clips she had dropped must still be on the floor. Mr Nakajima was not a man who would carelessly leave a clip on the floor like that. She knew it, and Nobu knew it too.

  There was silence. Then one set of footsteps moved towards the bench. Lili glanced at Lizard before the curtain was yanked back and they both looked straight into Mr Nakajima’s furious face.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  The Key to the Trapdoor

  Mr Nakajima moved aside, and Nobu’s menacing features filled the space. He reached in, dragged Lizard and Lili out from under the bench and dumped them on the floor.

  ‘Lizard-san!’ Mr Nakajima said, looking genuinely puzzled. ‘What? Why are you here?’

  ‘I…’ said Lizard.

  Mr Nakajima’s eyes darted to the space where Lili and Lizard had been hiding. Fortunately, Lili had re-locked the padlock.

  ‘Uh, sorry, sir,’ said Lili, looking ashamed.

  ‘We just wanted see what your darkroom was like,’ said Lizard with a gulp. ‘I’ve never been in here before.’

  ‘Really,’ said Mr Nakajima, looking unimpressed. ‘Why didn’t you ask, instead of sneaking around like rats in the night?’

  ‘Someone dared us to break in,’ said Lizard.

  ‘I don’t believe you,’ said Mr Nakajima.

  Lili flung herself at Mr Nakajima. ‘Oh, please! Please!’ she sobbed. ‘We were only exploring!’ She grabbed at his shirt, and he stepped back with a look of disgust.

  Mr Nakajima raised his hand to hit her, and Lizard leapt towards him and pushed his arm away. Mr Nakajima, caught unaware, fell back against the sink. He straightened up, brushed himself down and slapped Lili hard across the face. Her head jerked sideways, and her wig slipped slightly.

  ‘Ow!’ she yelled and burst into tears, as loudly as she could.

  Nobu reached out and snatched off her wig.

  Lizard swung a wild punch at Mr Nakajima, but Nobu grabbed his arm out of the air; it was a mere toothpick in Nobu’s meaty paw. Nobu shoved him, and Lizard fell, scraping his face against the corner of the sink.

  In the kerfuffle, Lili slipped the padlock key out of her pocket and threw it into the sink. It clunked as it hit the bottom.

  ‘Stop that noise or I will hit you again!’ Mr Nakajima said.

  Lili stopped howling, and just stood, sobbing. All the time, she was trying to work out how to escape.

  ‘Out,’ Mr Nakajima said to Nobu.

  Nobu grabbed Lizard and Lili by the scruffs of their necks and hustled them into the main studio. Lizard’s right cheek was bleeding from its scrape on the corner of the sink, and Lili’s face throbbed from Mr Nakajima’s slap.

  Lili figured Mr Nakajima wanted them out of the room where he kept all the incriminating evidence. He stood, arms folded, and watched them leave his darkroom. As he turned to follow them, his eye fell on the padlocked trapdoor.

  He started and reached into his jacket pocket, then glanced at the sink where he had thrown his stained clothes. With a worried exclamation he hurried to the sink and searched through the clothes.

  Lili, the back of her neck grasped in Nobu’s huge left hand, saw the relief on Mr Nakajima’s face when he found the key. She willed him not to unlock it. Don’t open the trapdoor. We’re just stupid children. That padlock’s never been unlocked. You’ve had that key all the time.

  Mr Nakajima stared at the padlock for an agonisingly long moment, then pocketed the key. He came out of the darkroom and shut the door.

  ‘Nobu, tie them up,’ he said.

  Nobu looked around. The various screens, chairs, plants, hats and other photographic props were neatly arranged on one side of the studio. He spotted some silk scarves and reached out for them, letting Lizard go in order to do so. ‘Don’t move or the girl will get hurt,’ he said.

  Lili dangled in Nobu’s grip like a mouse-deer in a tiger’s jaws, and Lizard stood very still.

  Nobu wrapped a scarf around Lili’s wrists.

  She tensed her forearms as he knotted the scarf and pushed her to the floor.

  ‘Stay there,’ he rumbled. Then he patted Lizard down, pushed him onto the chair and tied his arms behind the back of it. Lizard wondered how something as delicate as silk could make such a strong bond.

  ‘Now, explain yourself,’ Mr Nakajima said, perching on the edge of the table next to Lizard.

  Lizard gulped. The tea-drinking, cracker-crunching, harmless photographer of Lizard’s fond acquaintance was now his threatening interrogator. He tried to think of a lie that would get him out of this, but the lies wouldn’t come. All he could think of was how the gunjin were so cruel in China, and of Uncle Archie’s thin, bruised face.

  ‘Lizard-san,’ said Mr Nakajima. ‘In front of you is Mount Fuji.’ He gestured without looking at a screen behind him. The screen showed the cone-shaped mountain topped with snow and framed by pink cherry blossoms. ‘So peaceful, yes? The last eruption was two hundred years ago: villages destroyed, Tokyo buried in ash. Volcanoes are best kept peaceful, Lizard-san. So’—he leaned in close to Lizard’s face—‘answer my question.’

  Still Lizard didn’t—couldn’t—say anything. He forced himself not to look at Lili, who was sitting on the floor a few metres away.

  Mr Nakajima shook his head. ‘Tanto,’ he said, looking at Nobu. Nobu reached under his jacket in the region of his waist and took out some sort of scabbard. From this, he pulled a sharp, shiny knife.

  Icy needles of terror pricked the back of Lizard’s neck.

  Nobu moved behind Lizard, grabbed him by his hair and pressed the flat of the blade to his right cheek. The pressure re-opened the cut on his face, and it started bleeding again.

  ‘You’ve already injured yourself. The first layer of skin is the epidermis,’ said Mr Nakajima.

  Lizard jerked his head back.

  ‘I had anatomy lessons in the Navy, you know,’ said Mr Nakajima. ‘Now talk, Lizard-san.’

  ‘What do you want to know?’ Lizard managed to say, his voice cracking with fear.

  ‘Why are you here?’ Mr Nakajima’s voice was deceptively calm.

  Frightened though he was, one thought forced its way to the front of Lizard’s brain. Say nothing about Lili.

  ‘I’m looking for Uncle Archie,’ he blurted out. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Lili shake her head hard.

  Mr Nakajima raised his eyebrows. He gestured at Nobu, who let go of Lizard’s hair and stepped back.

  ‘Uncle Archie,’ Mr Nakajima said slowly. ‘Our British prisoner. The one in Tanaka’s.’

  Lizard dropped his gaze to the floor. He realised he had made a big mistake—Uncle Archie was the spy who Mr Nakajima had captured and interrogated. And Lizard had just told him the spy was his uncle.

  He felt the blood rush to his face. Mr Nakajima wasn’t trying to hide the fact that he was the hooded man. This was bad.

  Mr Nakajima stood up, moved towards Lizard and bent down to stare into his eyes.

  ‘Is that Englishman your uncle?’ He drew the words out with a soft, measured relish that made Lizard shudder with dread.

  ‘Now it all makes sens
e. I couldn’t understand why you were so reluctant to leave Tanaka’s basement, but now I see,’ Mr Nakajima said, standing up. ‘We have had him for quite some time. Yet no matter how we try to persuade him, he refuses to tell us what we need to know. But now’—he reached out his hand and, with the back of one finger, stroked Lizard’s left cheek lightly—‘I think he will sing like the uguisu in springtime.’

  Lizard recoiled, his lip curling with disgust.

  ‘But first, I want you to tell me all about him. Start with his full name.’

  Mr Nakajima waited.

  Lizard pressed his lips together and looked away.

  Mr Nakajima waved at Nobu who grabbed Lizard’s hair again, pulling his head back. The knife blade pressed further into Lizard’s cheek. ‘The second layer is called the dermis,’ Mr Nakajima said. ‘This layer is rich in blood vessels.’

  Lizard’s breath came in short panting gasps now, and he was light-headed with terror. He tried to twist away but Nobu’s grip was too tight. ‘Tell me about Uncle Archie,’ said Mr Nakajima softly. ‘Nobu will stop, when you talk.’

  Nobu let go and Lizard’s head jerked forward. A drop of blood fell onto his tunic. Both Lizard and Mr Nakajima looked at it, the red stark against the white.

  Lizard was suddenly sure that he would be killed whether he talked or not. If he didn’t say any more, he couldn’t make things worse for Uncle Archie, and maybe Lili could get away. He made a decision—he might die, but he wouldn’t talk.

  Once he’d decided that, his breathing slowed and his brain cleared. He gritted his teeth, lifted his eyes and stared at Mr Nakajima. Lizard shook his head, barely perceptibly, just once.

  The corners of Mr Nakajima’s mouth lifted a fraction, as if in grudging admiration. ‘Yuuki, ne?’ he said, glancing at Nobu.

  Lili knew yuuki meant ‘courage’ and was one of the samurai virtues. However, she also knew Mr Nakajima was not going to stop interrogating Lizard.

  Mr Nakajima sighed as if regretting the things he was going to do next.

  Lili’s heart squeezed with fear for Lizard. She bit at the silk to try to loosen the knot, but it was too tight. Lizard was already bleeding and she couldn’t do anything. Deep breath. Calm, she told herself. She couldn’t untie the silk but there was always another way. Just work it out. She moved herself to a kneeling position and got ready.