‘He would have telephoned,’ says the super logically. ‘And he did not take his car. That’s still at the Mandarin Hotel where he left it after dining with Professor Düsseldorf. There’s also no indication that he passed through immigration on the causeway or at the airport.’
For K to go off by himself and leave behind his pregnant wife is one thing but to leave his beloved Mustang in a hotel car park sets wrinkles on my brow.
‘I can see you are concerned,’ the super notes. ‘That’s why I am here and that’s why Doctor Chin asked you to join us. That and to meet Professor Düsseldorf. Nobody has seen Woolf for four days. He just disappeared.’
‘What is Li Fang doing here?’ Bernard speaks in my head and out my mouth.
‘I asked him to come,’ says the super. ‘Li Fang saw Woolf and a woman dragging Professor Fox into the back of his house around 9.30 on the night of his death. They were on the back path from the flats where you and Doctor Ra’mad live. Li Fang told me what he had seen only after the reading of the Will; his civic duty overcame his reluctance to get involved. I swore Li Fang to secrecy and had Woolf followed, hoping he would lead us to the woman. But he must have realised we were onto him and disappeared. I wonder, Doctor Haddock, if you have any idea who this woman could be?’
I am speechless. I have no idea who the woman could be. The only possibility that enters my mind is Agnes. But to mention it in front of Chin is out of the question. ‘No,’ I say, ‘I have absolutely no idea. What did she look like, Li Fang?’
‘I don’ know,’ says Li Fang, back in his I-know-nothing alter ego. ‘I see Doc-tor Woof. See OK. He big man. Don’ know woman. Dark.’
‘Li Fang couldn’t see the woman’s face. Too dark,’ the super repeats. ‘Tall with long hair, that’s as far as he can go.’
Slowly, I realise the implications. K and an unknown woman have been seen by a reliable witness dragging Bernard from my flat or Ra’mad’s flat along the back path to his house within the time bracket the coroner set for Bernard’s death and when I was sitting alone in a dreamlike state waiting for Venus.
‘Sorry, Superintendent,’ I apologise. ‘I don’t know any tall, long-haired women who might have been with K. I was sitting at the front of my flat and I saw nobody the whole evening other than Professor Düsseldorf, who came just after 10 o’clock.’
‘But your back door was open? And anybody could have come and gone and you might not have noticed?’
‘Yes, Superintendent.’
‘That’s all for now, Doctor Haddock,’ Super Wong says. ‘But should Woolf contact you, get in touch with me immediately. Meanwhile, I wish you a useful partnership with a criminologist. I understand the sociology of crime is a developing subject.’
‘Sociology of Crime,’ the Führer says. I don’t know if he’s echoing the super or naming the title of a classic work on a subject about which I know bugger all. ‘Ve vill see each other, yes? There is much to talk about.’
As the super rises to go, I excuse myself and accompany him to his car. ‘This is all very confusing, Superintendent. Might I ask why you chose to drop the bomb in the presence of a stranger, not to mention Chin? Won’t word now go all over the place that K is missing and implicated in the death of Bernard?’
‘Yes. Perhaps that is necessary. After all, nothing was moving in this case until Li Fang’s revelation. And Woolf is very much implicated.’
‘It’s all a mystery to me, Superintendent. I’ve no idea what’s going on.’
‘Well, it looks like only Woolf or his unknown companion will be able to put us in the picture. Unless our new criminologist has any bright ideas.’
‘What’s he doing here, Superintendent? That Von Führer whatsit.’
‘Chin told me he’s an old friend of his family. Speaks excellent Mandarin. Japanese too, it seems. He knew Chin’s father in the war. He was stationed here as German liaison officer. Young at the time of course, like Professor Fox. But opposite poles politically – Professor Fox was anti-Fascist, anti-Japanese and to the left. Our file suggests Professor Von Führer Düsseldorf is anti-communist and was a firm supporter of the Third Reich. I can’t imagine he’d have had much time for Chin Peng or for Bernard Fox, if, of course, he’d met either during the war, which seems most unlikely.
‘We now have two missing people: Woolf and the professor’s daughter. We knew already Norsiah had not left Singapore through any formal channels. The Malaysian police traced the aboriginal villages near where Fox spent much of the war years. They tell us she has not been seen there. So, we don’t know where she is. We’ve put out an appeal for anybody who sees her to contact us, but nothing so far.’
‘That’s very worrying,’ is all I can find to say. It is; disappearances are multiplying and I don’t believe in coincidence.
And then another coincidence I don’t believe in: Agnes walks around the corner.
‘I think your husband is engaged,’ the superintendent says, trying to be helpful.
‘Thank you, Superintendent. But I never disturb Harry at work. I’m just off for a stroll in the Botanic Gardens. Good afternoon to you. And to you, Doctor Haddock.’
Anybody going for a stroll between the Chin household and the Botanic Gardens need not pass the department building. I go back inside long enough to release Barnaby and slip out the back way to cut off Agnes.
17
Androgynously Inclined
BARNS GREETS AGNES with the dance of joy. When I catch up, the two are muzzling each other. ‘I’m glad you could come,’ Agnes says. And in my naivety, I thought I was catching up with her. Truly, a man chases a woman until she catches him.
It is only when we have taken seats at what’s becoming our table among the orchids that it all flows out. ‘What happened to K?’ she asks, concern dripping from each word.
‘I was going to ask you the same question.’ Agnes had come to the department in the hope of finding K. I see no point in keeping what I know from her, particularly since Super Wong announced his suspicions about K in front of her husband. ‘Things don’t look too good for K,’ I start. ‘I think your husband is trying to get rid of him. That’s the interpretation I put on Herr Professor Baron Von Führer Düsseldorf taking over K’s lectures – and I doubt Harry intends the arrangement to be temporary.’
Agnes takes off her hat; there is no need for it in the well-shaded garden. Her hair falls down and she tosses her head provocatively to send it into order. There among the lonely orchids, tears welling, she looks very vulnerable. She also looks especially attractive. ‘My husband has long wanted to get rid of K. Now he’s acting dean and K seems to have broken university rules – just popping off without a word – Harry thinks the chance is here.’
‘I don’t know. K has only been gone four days. There could be a simple explanation. K has a contract and when he returns he can take up his teaching duties again – unless your husband can find a serious breach of discipline.’ I stop myself from adding like rogering the wife of the acting dean and look at Agnes. Her concern is real. ‘You have no idea where K might be?’
‘No. I only wish I did. To think that of all people to replace K, Harry has to pick that repulsive German.’ Agnes’s vehemence surprises me.
‘Well, I agree old Von Führer Düstbrush is a bit full of umlauts but I’m surprised you call him repulsive. I don’t care for him myself but I would have thought him good-looking to women.’
‘You mean a good stand-in for K?’
I blush; I had been thinking precisely that. If Chin suspects his cuckolding by K, replacing K with the archetype superman seems a pretty dumb idea – even if the Hun speaks Han.
‘You don’t know the German.’ Agnes adds to the mystery, leading me to assume that she does know him. ‘He’s staying with us. And that creates problems.’
‘Does he try it on with you?’
‘Of course not.’ Agnes looks at me as if I’m stupid. ‘I can’t wait for him to go. Now he is temporarily on the staff he’s moving int
o Wolverton Mess, next to your friend David Bent.’
‘Next to David. My God! David will be on his knees slobbering as soon as he sees the Teutonic hulk. He’ll be in agony; I can’t imagine him getting a snifter except in his imagination.’
‘Don’t be too sure,’ Agnes wrinkles her nose and goes on to pronounce what sounds like a Schoolboys Own spy contact-password. ‘The German is androgynously inclined.’
Agnes studied English at university. Thus, she has the better of me when it comes to words dressed in Greek lingua-drag. ‘Do you mean he’s queer?’ I ask. Best to be clear about these things, especially where Greek words are concerned.
‘It depends on what you mean by queer,’ Agnes uses words that could come straight from Bernard. ‘Adolf likes hermaphrodites. Not straight men. Men yes, but those who exhibit a feminine side. He’s a bit of a bully.’
‘Wow, David really will be in his element. He doesn’t like straight women at all, this German?’
‘I’m quite sure he doesn’t.’
‘And straight men are safe?’
‘I wouldn’t bet on it,’ Agnes says impishly, breaking the gravitas. ‘How’s your feminine side?’
‘Still in hiding,’ I reply. ‘And does hubby Harry know about these proclivities of his father’s friend?’
‘He most certainly does.’
‘But how can you be sure?’ Too blunt. It sounds like I’m questioning Agnes’s morality rather than that of the German. And Agnes’s morality, being known, is not in question.
‘Curiosity got Man into the mess he’s in,’ comes the reply. No need to remind me, Bernard. I know then that Bernard is speaking – or to put it less mystically, his thoughts are speaking – through the mouth of little Agnes. They must have discussed more than orchids on her afternoon visits.
‘Are you going to satisfy me?’ I ask her.
Agnes looks at me super-coquettishly, as if considering my request. ‘Maybe. But not just yet,’ she answers. ‘Right now, we have to consider K and how to help him. If he’s still alive.’ Agnes’s face clouds once more and her sadness returns. Barnaby places her head sympathetically in the fold of Agnes’s lap. K dead? I suppose a lot of people don’t like him and some might wish him dead. But would anybody kill K? ‘I don’t think it’s a coincidence that K disappeared just after meeting Adolf. There’s a lot you don’t know.’
There sure is; how did Agnes know K had met Adolf? Agnes takes a small stick from the tiny purse she carries and rolls mosquito repellent onto her legs. Funny how a man can see a woman jog by in shorts almost every day and hardly stir, yet the sight of the same woman lifting her skirt and a glimpse of inner thigh holds the power to turn him on. Talk about distraction; what was I thinking about?
‘You don’t know it, but Düsseldorf tried to visit Bernard on the night he died. He says he couldn’t get in. Oh, he’s alibied right up to his crew cut – you couldn’t set up a better alibi however hard you tried – reception with the Vice-Chancellor and Superintendent Wong. He even stopped at your window to prove he had nothing to hide.’ I do know it but don’t know Agnes knows it.
‘Düsseldorf’s visited us a couple of times in the past and always called on Bernard. Always about the same thing as you know, offering to arrange transfer of the war loot out of the country in exchange for a half share.’
Whoa! One minute we are talking about a ginger German and an absent K, the next it’s treasure-trove time. The conjunction is missing. Agnes is telling me what she thinks I don’t know when she suddenly moves into territory about which I haven’t a clue but which she seems to assume I do. A warning bell tinkles in my head, Bernard’s PS to his letter glows neon in my mind and I keep quiet in the hope she will tell more. She does. ‘Now that Bernard is dead, Adolf will be onto you with the same offers and threats.’
I nod knowingly and say simply, ‘Do you think so?’
‘It makes sense, doesn’t it? You’re the only one who knows where the loot is.’
‘But how do you know that I know?’ I sound confusing, even to myself, but hope Agnes makes sense of it.
‘News travels fast. Bernard’s sealed letter to you. It must have disclosed the location of the war loot – Tambiah is an open book. I was expecting Bernard to pass on the secret to Li Fang. But I suppose that was too obvious. He would avoid the obvious. Li Fang has been his keeper all these years, making sure Bernard did not run off with the stuff himself. I suppose Li Fang is now performing the same function watching over you.’
Agnes’s words seem to connect with the PS of Bernard’s letter to me, but catching their meaning is like putting together the pieces of a jigsaw puzzle with no idea what the picture is supposed to be or if all the pieces are there. Agnes casts me as a leading actor in some drama and I don’t even know the plot. Bernard’s PS must be a central piece in the puzzle, as might be what I witnessed the afternoon of Bernard’s death, but I can’t think where either fits in with the German. So – when ignorant, bluff. ‘Whatever Bernard said or wrote to me was private and I can’t disclose it.’
‘I’m not asking you to disclose it. Certainly not to me. I don’t want them getting at me. I couldn’t care less about this stupid war loot. I just want to warn you to be careful about the German and his boyfriend – and my husband.’
‘And Li Fang?’
‘Bernard trusted Li Fang. You would only need to worry about him if you intend to make off with the loot.’
Time to find out what we are talking about. I chance a serious take-it-or-leave-it ultimatum. ‘Agnes,’ I say, ignoring my resolve to avoid first-name familiarity, ‘unless you tell me everything you know about this affair, I think it might be better we stop talking about it and get back to seeing if there is anything we can do to help K – presuming he is not dead already.’
‘But how can we talk of one thing without the other? You know the German was good friends with Harry’s father during the war. You know the role played by Bernard and Li Fang in the war and you know the suspicion that one or both of them murdered Harry’s father.’
Wow! Bernard, are you listening? The plot has thickened so much I could stand WWII upright in it.
‘I did not ask you what I know. I must know all that you know.’
‘Yes. I’m sorry. I thought you knew already how far Bernard had let me in on things, since the two of you were so close.’
I’m the only one in the dark and Agnes thinks I’m the only one fully enlightened. ‘Bernard told me everything,’ I lie. ‘But he never told me he had taken you into his confidence.’
‘And you want to be sure of me? Yes, I understand that. Very sensible. After all, who can you trust? It makes sense to be cautious. Bernard told me that Chin Jin-Hui, Harry’s father, had betrayed Chin Peng. Jin-Hui had collected from the Chinese in Singapore gold and silver and anything valuable that would aid the anti-Japanese struggle. Some of the more portable bounty was sent with Li Fang to Chin Peng in the jungle. Some of it was handed over to the Japanese. Neither the Japanese nor Chin Peng suspected they got only part of the total collected. Chin Jin-Hui gave the Japanese the names of anybody who refused to contribute, presenting them as anti-Japanese. It was a protection racket: the big contributors were guaranteed safety. The Japanese were happy with Chin Jin-Hui, in spite of the small amounts he handed in, because they had a regular supply of Chinese to hang. Chin Peng was acquiescent because those Chinese who opposed him were being dealt with by the Japanese. Only Li Fang suspected Chin Jin-Hui and he kept his suspicions to himself until he told Bernard. But you know all this.’
‘Yes, I do,’ I lie confidently. Somewhere in my mind, a connection is forming between what I overheard in Ra’mad’s kitchen and the revelations of Agnes. ‘But I’m surprised you know it.’
‘Bernard told me the full story after I told him of Harry’s suspicion, based on what Düsseldorf told him, that Bernard had killed his father and stolen what Harry sees as part of his family’s wealth. It was Harry who first encouraged me to visit Bernard socia
lly – he would not have been welcome himself – and nose around for any clues as to where the treasure might be. Harry actually thought Bernard would be stupid enough to hide it under the mattress. The Chinese used to do just that with their wealth, bury it in their house and live on top of it; Bernard was not Chinese but he could hardly deposit trunks full of gold, silver and jewels in a bank deposit without attracting suspicion. There must have been quite a volume, since all types of payment were acceptable to Chin Jin-Hui: gold necklaces, art works, silver tea pots, even porcelain. I imagine Bernard could have opened an antique shop if Li Fang had let him.’
‘Did you ask Bernard why he kept the spoils rather than simply tell Chin Peng to take it all away?’ I risk this question, as Agnes seems to have all the answers.
‘No, but I can guess there are two possibilities. Firstly, that Bernard was himself a bit like Chin Jin-Hui and Ra’mad during the Emergency; he was not sure where his loyalties lay. He didn’t want to make a present of the loot to Chin Peng. On the other hand, he was not going to betray Chin Peng. He could not give everything to the British and couldn’t bring himself to finance anti-British revolutionaries. Secondly, perhaps Bernard received orders from Chin Peng to hang onto the loot rather than risk its loss through movement – there was never a time that Chin Peng looked like winning his war and he kept moving around. And Bernard knew Chin Peng had set Li Fang to watch over him. Bernard could not make a move without Li Fang knowing. Li Fang didn’t know the location and was therefore tied to Bernard. The two were synergetic. That’s why they lived right opposite each other.’
Agnes is full of Greek words but things are becoming clearer to me and raising new questions. ‘Did Bernard tell you what he intended to do with the stuff eventually, if he had lived? After all, Chin Peng is in Beijing and the Emergency is long over.’
‘From what he told me, Bernard waited years for Chin Peng to achieve respectability and enter the democratic political arena; then I suppose he would have needed all the funds he could get. But the Malaysian authorities would not hear of allowing him back into the country, even if he surrendered. They had beaten him and were happy to let him live out his life in Beijing or Bangkok or anywhere outside Malaysia. So, the treasure stayed with Bernard and was never claimed.’
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