The Betel Nut Tree Mystery

by Ovidia Yu

  ‘We’re not fighting, Champ.’ He ruffled the boy’s hair with affection.

  Not a tutor, I decided. Though reserved, he didn’t have that air of depressed subservience that comes with being paid to supervise the very young or the very old. Rather, he had the eyes of a dragon snake. They were pale grey-green between their dark pupils and rims. The dragon snake is the quiet younger brother of the flamboyantly auspicious dragon, not the satanic creature that Westerners fear.

  ‘We’re not even talking about the same thing. But I’ll change course. Nicole did smack the boy, but she didn’t mean it. She doesn’t hold up well under pressure. I’ve seen her slap herself too. Much harder than that.’

  ‘Sometimes Mama throws things,’ Junior said. ‘She broke a vase yesterday. But then she’s sorry and cries. I don’t like it when she cries.’

  I thought of the broken vase in the dead man’s room, too far away from the bed to have been kicked over in his death throes.

  ‘I’m Kenneth Mulliner, by the way. I should get back in there before your chief inspector thinks I’ve run away and decides to arrest me.’

  ‘My name is Chen Su Lin,’ I said.

  He grinned. I suddenly saw Kenneth Mulliner was not bad-looking, despite those strange eyes and his light brown hair. But I would still have classified him as ‘inoffensive’ rather than ‘handsome’. Good looks require personality and poise, as well as even features. In the room, Kenneth Mulliner’s attitude had suggested he was used to blending in to the background.

  ‘I know who you are,’ he said. ‘Your grandmother is one of the richest women in Singapore but you’re working in a police station because she doesn’t believe girls should go to university.’

  He saw from my expression that I wasn’t exactly thrilled with what he had said. ‘Oops. Sorry. That may have been confidential. Look, can we talk?’

  ‘No.’ I had nothing against the man, but I was angry with Parshanti, who must have talked about me. And she had clearly spent much more time with Kenneth Mulliner than she had let on.

  ‘Kenneth! Where’s Kenneth?’ Nicole’s voice came from behind the doors. ‘Kenneth! Come here and get rid of these people at once. Shoot the lot of them if they try to stop you. Such insolence!’

  Kenneth looked between me and the door, and I saw the decision in his snake eyes. Taking Junior’s hand, he pushed the door open and we heard Nicole’s high girlish voice going at full blast: ‘Kenneth! I need you! Taylor’s being disgusting. He wants to get Victor cut up. The poor man’s already dead. Why put him through that? You’re supposed to be Victor’s friend – come here and make them stop it.’

  ‘I strongly recommend an autopsy,’ came Dr Covington’s voice. ‘I am sure his family will want to know exactly what happened to him.’

  ‘Our medical examiner, Dr Leask, will look at the body and decide if an autopsy is necessary.’ That was Le Froy’s calm murmur. ‘Did Mr Glossop have any underlying medical conditions?’

  ‘His liver was probably diseased, given the amount of alcohol he took. I don’t suppose I could be of any help? Haven’t done an autopsy in years, but it’s not something you forget.’

  ‘Kenneth!’ Nicole wailed.

  ‘Sorry, Nicole. We’re off duty and going for cocoa.’ Kenneth shut the door, signalling the end of his side of the conversation. There was a shriek of womanly rage from within.

  ‘Yours might be the next dead body,’ I warned him.

  Kenneth flinched – as though I had made fun of him. But before I could ask what I had said that was wrong he recovered. ‘Don’t I know it. But there’s no need to worry. Nicole’s highly strung and nervous but she wouldn’t actually do anything.’

  Wouldn’t she? I had just seen her hit a child out of sheer bad temper.

  ‘As I was saying, Victor’s death was probably an accident. There’ll be a simple explanation. A snake bite. A spider bite. This is the Far East – there must be venomous snakes and creatures in every corner. Or an allergy. Something Victor ate. He was always sampling strange native foods, chicken feet and pig intestines and live frogs. He might have eaten something that triggered an allergy that led to a heart attack. Or it could have been something he picked up on board ship. Just an accident. Right, Junior?’ Junior nodded gravely.

  ‘Do you know who was with him when he died?’ I remembered the lipstick and the small puddle of vomit.

  ‘He had no pulse and wasn’t breathing,’ Kenneth said. ‘He was definitely dead.’

  He hadn’t answered my question.

  ‘You found the body?’

  Kenneth sighed.

  ‘You should go back in there and tell Le Froy,’ I said. ‘He’ll want to talk to you.’

  ‘Actually, Junior did.’ Kenneth nodded at the child. ‘You talk to him. You’re good with him.’

  Junior looked serious and scared, and his cheek was red where his mother had hit him. I didn’t want to send him back to her. At least, not until she’d calmed down.

  ‘Tell me,’ I said.

  ‘Junior brought me down to Victor’s playroom. That’s what he called it because it’s next to Junior’s playroom. Junior was laughing and telling us about this grand new joke of Victor’s. He tried to get his mother to bring him down to Victor’s room to see, but Nicole was angry with Victor and refused. Thank God. If she had been there . . . So, anyway, I brought Junior down. The door wasn’t locked and he ran into the room, shouting, ‘Show us, Victor!’ or something like that. He ran to Victor’s body and shook him. Victor was always setting up these elaborate jokes and I thought it was one of his tricks. But when Junior touched him he got the shock of his life. He knocked over some orchids when he backed away.’ Kenneth shook his head as though trying to dislodge the memory. ‘I got him out of there as fast as I could.’

  ‘The broken vase by the bed,’ I remembered. ‘You should have told someone, and they should have sent for the police at once.’

  ‘I had to leave Junior with Taylor first. Couldn’t drag a terrified child around cops and corpses.’

  ‘You said I was brave,’ came a subdued protest.

  ‘Yes, you are, Champ. Braver than me. I found Taylor with Nicole and told them what had happened. By the time we got Nicole calmed down and Taylor went to see what had happened the police were already there.’ He put an arm around Junior’s shoulders. ‘Now, I believe cocoa was promised. Shall we?’

  I was torn. As an assistant, I ought to get back inside the room and tell my boss what I had just learned. Then again, wouldn’t a responsible assistant be following up leads that he could not?

  There was a faintly mocking air about Kenneth as he studied me studying him. As though he thought I was afraid to have cocoa with him. I didn’t trust Kenneth Mulliner, but that didn’t mean I was afraid of him. Had he rushed out after us because he was worried about what Junior might tell me? I determined not to leave them until I’d had a chance to chat alone with the little boy.

  ‘Let’s go,’ I said firmly.

  ‘We’re coming too,’ said Taylor Covington, opening the doors to the suite and ushering Le Froy out in front of him. ‘The hotel’s tea room is the best destination for cocoa.’

  The young police corporal who had been unobtrusively stationed just inside the main door to the suite followed them and took a position in the corridor.

  ‘What happened?’ I asked Le Froy. It was unlike him to leave in the middle of interviewing a witness, and there had hardly been time for him to ask her anything.

  ‘Hysterics. It won’t be any use trying to talk to her until she calms down. I had to give her a sedative.’ Dr Covington sounded as if he was running the case. ‘And the chief inspector thought he may as well ask Junior some questions while his mother rests up. Kenneth, no one’s going to stop you spending all your time with Nicole now.’

  ‘We’ve been through that. I’m not going back in there.’ Kenneth gave a stiff laugh.

  Dr Covington ignored him. He started down the corridor to the main staircase with a
hand on Junior’s shoulder. ‘Come on, Chief Inspector, Miss Chen. Junior and I will introduce you to the joys of the Farquhar’s tea room. Our treat.’

  Le Froy was watching Kenneth, so I did too. Kenneth looked at the door, then at Dr Covington’s retreating back, and went back into Nicole’s suite.

  Despite what he had said earlier, he seemed glad to. And while I was still angry with Parshanti I felt sorry for her. But just then I was mostly nervous about eating with strangers.

  Previous Deaths

  A short digression: of course I had eaten sandwiches before, made with sugar or Bovril on roti, but those sandwiches at the Farquhar were a world apart.

  Thin slices of soft white bread were cut into dainty triangles and filled with salted butter and cucumber, hard-boiled eggs chopped with mayonnaise or thin slices of cold roast beef with horseradish. They were served with little dishes of mango chutney, cream cheese mixed with chopped walnuts and raisins, and what tasted like a sweet, spicy jam.

  I was enchanted and found it hard to believe any human with enough to eat could want to hurt another. But, of course, it was only because of the harm done to Victor Glossop that I was in the Farquhar tea room that day.

  It was a cheerful, airy space with light metalwork chairs set around tables covered with white linen. The open balcony faced the sea, which could be glimpsed between gigantic palm trees and jasmine and bougainvillaea bushes. Even the gentle flapping of the rattan screens was regular and soothing.

  But I was not ready to be soothed.

  ‘Does his mother strike him often?’ I asked Dr Covington quietly, as a uniformed waiter stacked one of the chairs securely on another to give Junior enough height at the table to help himself to the hot cocoa and Digestive biscuits that appeared in front of him.

  It was clear the little boy was a favourite there.

  ‘Never strike a child in front of you maternal types, eh?’ Dr Covington’s face was red and fleshy, and he smelt strongly of hair pomade as he leaned towards me. I drew back automatically, then felt cross with myself.

  ‘You say this girl works for you?’

  ‘Miss Chen speaks English as well as I do,’ Le Froy pointed out. ‘Why don’t you ask her?’

  ‘But you’re her employer.’

  ‘We are both employees of Singapore’s Detective and Intelligence Unit. We are colleagues.’

  Dr Covington laughed loudly. ‘Anyone who knows me will understand that I meant no offence. Young lady, I say what I think and ask what I don’t, and I’m too old to change my ways.’

  ‘Thank you,’ I said to Dr Covington. ‘No offence taken, sir.’

  ‘Well said, young lady.’ Dr Covington’s face creased into a smile before he turned to Le Froy. ‘We Americans are built to go ahead and fix whatever needs fixing. See a problem, sort it out, that’s my motto. But you Britishers do things by the book and I don’t want to offend you by making a direct proposal.’

  ‘Proposal?’

  Dr Covington turned to me. ‘I know your boss brought you in to watch us. What about this? While you keep an eye on us suspects, you earn a little extra from me for keeping an eye on my grandson and his mother till this is cleared up. Nicole is nervous and highly strung, and she doesn’t know anyone in this place.’

  I noticed his deliberate use of the word ‘suspects’ and wondered if Le Froy would comment on it. He did not.

  ‘Are you worried about your grandson?’ I asked.

  ‘Not in the least. Junior’s a champion.’ Dr Covington paused to wink at the boy, then lowered his voice. ‘Junior has asthma attacks but, between you and me, that’s all psychological and due to his mama’s behaviour. It’s her I’m worried about. Nicole has a short fuse. As you saw upstairs, she takes it out on the boy sometimes. I hoped travelling might distract her but it looks like her silly superstitions are following her around.’

  ‘What’s following her around?’ Le Froy asked.

  ‘Death, she says. She’s lost her parents, her brother, my boy Radley, whom she was married to . . . I suppose it’s enough to make any woman think she’s cursed.’

  ‘When did all these deaths take place?’ Le Froy’s eyes were sharp, his plate empty. I didn’t refuse when Dr Covington offered me a toast square topped with Gentleman’s Relish.

  ‘Take it easy, Chief Inspector!’ Dr Covington laughed. ‘Don’t rush off and arrest Nicole. Her parents died years ago, when she was a child. She barely remembers them. Same with the brother. She never had much of a home life. If you ask me that was a big part of the problem.’

  His face sobered. ‘I was against my son marrying her, to be frank. I didn’t think they were ready. I wanted my Radley to get a good start on his career before he had a family, but there’s no talking to a young man once a pretty face has got him hooked. If I’d foreseen any of this I would have put my foot down and insisted they wait a year at least. And maybe my Radley would be alive today.’ There was no mistaking his pain.

  ‘What happened to your son?’ Le Froy asked gently.

  ‘Car accident. They were having a bit of a tiff, as young couples do, and ran off the road. My son died on the spot.’

  ‘Nicole was in the car?’

  ‘Walked away without a scratch.’ The anger stayed in his eyes until he reached over to ruffle Junior’s hair.

  Junior had finished his biscuits and was watching the door to the kitchen. We all turned in that direction and saw a waiter appear with a shot glass of chocolate pudding. I had seen no order given, but the little boy’s anticipation showed this must have been a regular habit. Clearly, the Covingtons organized things well.

  ‘So, how about it?’ Dr Covington asked me.

  ‘No,’ Le Froy said. ‘She’s needed in the office.’

  ‘But, sir—’

  ‘No.’

  I was stung. This was the second time he had vetoed me doing something that was well within my capabilities. But remembering the rehearsal prank kept me quiet. For the time being. I would bring it up again once we were back in the office. I couldn’t do any kind of job if Le Froy was going to pad me with cotton wool.

  Dr Covington sat back and looked from Le Froy to me. Was he wondering if I were Le Froy’s local mistress? Drat Van Dijk for putting the thought in my head! I sat up straight and tried to look businesslike and professional. Which was probably exactly what a local mistress would do in my position.

  Le Froy seemed to consider the matter closed. ‘Why did you come to Singapore? What made Glossop and your daughter-in-law decide to get married here?’

  ‘You’ll have to ask the young couple – ask Nicole, I mean. I wasn’t part of that discussion. Victor’s idea was for them to be married on board by the ship’s captain. But Nicole took a dislike to the man and insisted on waiting till we got to shore.’

  ‘Why did you leave America?’

  ‘Nicole had no family left after my son died,’ Dr Covington said. ‘As my wife died a year before our son, and I was retired from my practice, I thought a trip around the world would help both of us to get over the loss. My grandson is too young to understand what it means to be fatherless, and I hope my presence will ameliorate that somewhat. I want to provide the guidance and protection a father would.’

  ‘What can you tell us about Victor Glossop?’

  ‘Oh, Victor was a great joker. He’d been playing tricks on the hotel staff since we checked in. When they first told us he was dead, I was sure it was another trick. We all thought so.’

  ‘Junior found the body,’ I told Le Froy.

  ‘Junior thought it was one of Victor’s jokes. But he was really dead. Right, Junior?’ Junior nodded.

  ‘Why didn’t you tell us Junior found him?’

  Dr Covington shrugged. ‘Don’t see what difference it makes. Anyway, he didn’t do anything, so no harm done. Glossop was such a young man. So full of life. This is such a waste.’

  ‘Why did Junior say his mother was like a black widow spider?’ I asked. I doubted the child had come up with that
on his own.

  ‘Junior says the strangest things sometimes. Out of the mouths of babes, eh?’

  ‘What’s that, Grandpa?’

  ‘Just saying you’re overly fond of spiders, bugs, butterflies . . . It’s an inclination his mother doesn’t share.’ Again, Dr Covington ran a hand over his grandson’s dark curly head.

  ‘Who told you about black widow spiders?’ I asked Junior. Some adult must have planted the thought in his head.

  ‘Spiders have eight legs,’ Junior informed me, through a mouthful of chocolate pudding. ‘That’s how you tell they aren’t insects. Insects have six legs, even butterflies and mosquitoes. Spiders are Arab nits.’

  ‘“Arachnids”,’ Dr Covington corrected him. ‘We may have another budding scientist in the family. And Junior is a real gentleman. He understands that his mama is going through a very difficult time and we all have to take good care of her.’

  ‘Real gentlemen take care of ladies,’ said the young gentleman, whose feet dangled a good foot above the floor. ‘Ladies cry. Gentlemen don’t.’

  He hadn’t answered my question.

  ‘The boy’s had to grow up fast. Nicole doesn’t really know how to handle being a mother and doesn’t have a mother to show her how it’s done. My Radley would have been a great pa. He loved children. Even before Junior was born we were talking about the hunting and fishing trips the three of us would be going on. Radley always said those trips with me were the best times of his life.’

  Junior watched us seriously.

  ‘Who told you your mother was like a black widow spider? You didn’t think of that yourself, did you?’ I persisted. Le Froy, sitting on my other side, leaned forward to listen.

  ‘Kenneth,’ Junior said.

  ‘Kenneth Mulliner told you that?’ All my suspicions of the man returned immediately. ‘What exactly did he say?’

  ‘Kenneth says, “So, this is where the party is!”’ a voice growled suddenly in my ear.