‘But how, then, did Chin get Agnes to swallow the drug?’
‘I spoke to Chin’s maid on the telephone just now. She heard Chin at the car; he asked Agnes to come inside and talk things over before leaving. The maid made them a pot of tea. They sat in the kitchen, talking. Voices were raised; the maid stayed out of the way. Ra’mad tells me that sedative is quick acting and has no taste when dissolved in tea. Chin must have put all of it in Agnes’s cup.’ The super looks down pensively into his own teacup.
‘Darjeeling,’ says Venus. ‘We’re out of sedative.’ She tops up the super’s cup. There’s certainly nothing like a nice cup of tea to sort things out.
Sensing an air of conclusion, I ask, ‘And the invitation, Superintendent? When you came in you mentioned an invitation.’
‘Li Fang and Norsiah are both at Guild House. They want to invite you both to a special lunch there – Barnaby, too. A celebratory lunch. They will announce their engagement. Norsiah, Bernard’s daughter, wants you, her cousin, to be the first to bless their union.’
‘Her cousin?’ says Venus, almost choking on her tea.
‘I’ll explain later.’
‘Care to explain now? The cleaner is Bernard’s daughter and you are her cousin? Did I hear right?’
‘I was getting to it when the super called. Bernard was my mother’s brother. He spent World War II in the Perak jungle where he had a daughter, Norsiah, who later came to live with him as his servant. He thought Chin and Ra’mad would argue against my appointment to the university on his recommendation – nepotism, you know – so he kept our relationship quiet. Chin’s now out of the picture and Ra’mad has other things to worry about – like handing out sedative for use by a murderer. Bernard was also worried that his enemies like Von Düsseldorf might use me or Norsiah as bargaining chips to get him to reveal the location of the war loot, that’s to say, the diamonds.’
‘The professor your uncle! And Norsiah your cousin! Anything more I should know, Tom? We’re not related, are we?’
‘Not yet,’ I say, giving my best smile. ‘I haven’t proposed … yet.’
Venus is also smiling and the super is caught in the contagion. One Smile Makes Two and One and Two makes Three – I think I’ve discovered Singapore’s next campaign slogan.
* * *
As we watch Wong drive away, Venus sums it all up. ‘That’s nice, Wong coming out here to invite us to lunch with Li Fang. Of course, Li Fang could have picked up his phone and saved Wong the trip.’
‘Yes. Maybe he really came for your special Darjeeling.’
‘And,’ Venus says, ‘to make sure we get him off the hook quickly with that nasty Inspector Ong by making statements denying reckless driving of a police vehicle and causing the death of a pedestrian.’
‘If that officious Inspector Ong needs statements, he’ll get them.’
‘You don’t like Ong, do you, Tom?’
‘No. But probably less than Super Wong. From what Madhu tells me, Ong and Wong hate each other’s guts. They are the same age, joined the force together and became inspectors at the same time. Then, when the superintendent position became vacant, both applied and the commissioner chose Wong. Wong refused to consider Ong as his deputy, which is still vacant. Simple as that.’
‘And Madhu’s directly under Ong but working with Wong?’
‘Yes, but not for long. Wong is getting Madhu transferred to his charge – one of the assistant superintendents – might be a promotion in it.’
‘Good for Madhu. They make a good team.’ Venus picks up the dog collar and looks at it. ‘And what shall we do with this, er, war loot, Tom darling?’
‘Put it back on Barnaby?’
‘Aren’t you a tiny bit curious to see what’s inside?’
‘Bernard told me.’
‘In the PS?’
‘The day before he died’
‘And what did he tell you?’
‘He told me what’s inside.’
‘Tom Haddock!’ Venus reaches for a fruit knife, waves it in pretend-warning in front of my eyes and unrolls the tubular collar flat on the table, inner stitches upwards. We look into each other’s eyes. I place my hand over hers, over the knife.
‘Whatever’s in there, I want you to know, Venus, I love you.’
‘And I, Tom, love you … whatever’s in there.’
Venus cuts the stitches. All is revealed.
‘Peanuts!’ says Venus.
‘What were you expecting? Diamonds?’
‘To-o-om.’ Venus says my name as if it’s a mile long. ‘Last night in the car you told me the collar is full of diamonds. You said the professor told you so in his PS.’
‘He did, in the PS. Which he wrote three days before he died. Then, having written the letters, he changed his mind, took out the diamonds and sewed in peanuts. He did it the afternoon of the day he died; I was with him. He thought a huge, fancy dog collar on a street dog might provoke curiosity. He took them out in front of me – they looked very nice, Venus.’
Venus looks me in the eyes. I see her lips move. She’s counting to ten.
‘And then …’ I say at nine, ‘he and Li Fang put the diamonds in two pouches. One stayed with Bernard, the other passed to Li Fang. I was a witness sworn to secrecy; I promised never to reveal where the diamonds are.’
‘And you’ve just broken your promise.’
‘Yes. But I swear you to secrecy.’
‘So, Bernard told you about everything before he died?’
‘No. He didn’t tell me everything. I think he and Li Fang just wanted a trustworthy witness to their sharing of the diamonds. I already knew much of the background to their roles in World War II and the Emergency, and they knew I knew. But Bernard’s daughter and the tragedies in Malaya, when Bernard lost his wife and Norsiah lost her husband and child, were revealed only in his death letter. He also didn’t tell me about Von Düsseldorf and Nagasaki; perhaps he thought too much knowledge a dangerous thing. I’m inclined to think that when he felt himself go woozy on the night he died, he brought me his share of the diamonds in a pouch, maybe he wanted to hide it in my flat before calling an ambulance. He dropped the pouch in my kitchen, K picked it up and it’s now with the police; but why he had this dog collar full of peanuts in his hand remains a mystery – perhaps he meant to explain that the death letter PS was incorrect on that detail or perhaps he wasn’t thinking straight. Even Norsiah wasn’t told about the collar.’
‘But does Norsiah know about the diamonds?’
‘No. Both Bernard and Li Fang are very protective. Neither would place her in harm’s way. She knows nothing of any diamonds.’
‘Good. Then she’s not marrying Li Fang for the money.’
‘Whatever her reason, it’s not for the diamonds. Li Fang told me what he intends to do with his half now that Chin Peng can’t use it and Bernard’s dead.’
‘Come on, Tom. Tell me.’
‘Promise? Not a word?’
‘Promise.’
‘He’s going to sell them bit by bit and put all the cash into the Bernard Fox Memorial Social History Scholarship Fund. That’s pretty noble of him, don’t you think?’
‘I do. Li Fang’s a pretty nice guy. I suppose that’s why Norsiah’s marrying him. He’s generous and he’s protective. Women like to feel protected.’
The phone rings again.
‘Oh, no,’ I say.
‘Hello, good morning,’ says Venus, again placing a hand over the mouthpiece and looking up into my eyes.
‘It’s Richard,’ she says seriously, pauses long enough for me to turn green, and bursts out laughing.
About the Author
ROBERT COOPER is a British subject who has lived overseas most of his life in Malaysia, Singapore, Thailand and Laos. He studied French literature at the Sorbonne in Paris before switching to anthropology in the UK. He received a PhD in Economic Anthropology after two years with Hmong villagers in Northern Thailand and Laos. Following publication of Resource S
carcity and the Hmong Response (Singapore University Press, 1984), he was elected Fellow of the Royal Anthropological Institute.
Robert left an academic career in anthropology that included lectureships at Singapore, Chulalongkorn and Chiang Mai universities to join the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees. He served with the UN in Laos, Geneva, Malawi, the Philippines, Thailand, Nepal, Bangladesh and Indonesia. In 2000, he became Head of the British Trade Office to Laos. He spent a year in Vietnam advising the government on poverty reduction, before returning to live and write in Vientiane, where he owns the bookshop Book-Café Vientiane and works on increasing literacy among young Lao. In addition to English, he speaks French, Lao, Malay/Indonesian and Thai.
Robert is the author of CultureShock! Thailand and companion volumes Thais Mean Business, Thailand Beyond the Fringe and CultureShock! Laos. He has also written cultural guides to Bahrain, Bhutan, Croatia and Indonesia, and three novels set in Asia and the UK.
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