by A. J. Low
Wendy’s eyes were red and watering. “I wanted to get your autograph earlier when our class was touring the studio but it was too crowded. You have so many fans! AH-CHOO!”
Uncle Koey looked shocked that such a tiny girl could make such a loud sound. Uncle Lee Swee took a step back at first, but he still had his professional smile on. He then took out a pen to sign the slip of paper that Wendy had passed him. “You really didn’t need to hide,” he said as he signed his name, “especially behind a bush.”
“Guess you’re a big star, Lee Swee,” Uncle Koey said, laughing. Wendy sneezed again making Uncle Lee Swee jump. He took a step away from her.
I wiped my brow. We got caught but still managed to salvage the situation—although we weren’t any closer to finding the stolen script!
“That was super close, Sherlock!” Jimmy said as he bounced alongside the rest of us. “We almost got caught!”
We were making our way back to the studio compound. The two uncles were far ahead and Uncle Lee Swee kept turning around. I guess we did seem like stalkers.
“We sure did,” I said. “Er, Wendy, do you have the flu or something?” I noticed that her eyes were still red and tearing. She kept rubbing her nose too.
“I don’t know what’s happening,” Wendy replied miserably. “One minute I’m fine and the next I want to sneeze my brain out.”
“I-think-you-might-have-with-that-last-sneeze,” Watson added, helpful as always. Wendy’s nose twitched again as we reached the studio. All the crew seemed to have gone. I wasn’t sure if they had left for the day, or if they had just gone to eat dinner.
“Sounds like your allergies are acting up, Wendy,” Dad said. He patted her on her head and gave her a hug. “Mom has your medication, I think. I should probably give her a call to let her know we’re back at the studio.”
Just then, Dad’s handphone buzzed. He looked at it and grimaced. “Uncle Boon Chong is asking for another update.” Dad held up his phone for us to see:
The producers are in my office.
I tried to tell them the force is strong
in your son but they ignored me. Hurry!
“Hmm. I think Uncle Boon might need some support. They’re all in his office now. I’m going to pop in there for a quick chat before Mom gets here.”
“Okay, Dad,” I said. “We’ll just—”
“Stay put,” Dad said. He looked serious. “Right, Sam?”
I gulped. With all that had happened and with Dad being his happy, silly self, I had almost forgotten I was still in trouble. “Right,” I said. “We’ll wait here for you and Mom. Is it okay if we talk about the case?”
“Yep. But just talk, okay?” he said. He started to walk away then abruptly took a step back and ruffled my hair. “We can continue with the investigation when I get back. If we have time, that is. It’s already so late. The producers might want to wrap up for the day. Oh boy, Boon Chong will freak out even more.”
We watched Dad quickly walk off.
“Okay, guys,” I said as we gathered in the courtyard of the studio.
“Well, well, well, look who’s here,” a voice said from behind us.
We all spun around. It was James and Moran!
“It’s you!” Jimmy said, his fists clenched at his sides. “We still don’t like you.”
“Why are you here?” I asked James. I put my hand on Jimmy’s shoulder to calm him down. It wouldn’t do to get riled up in front of someone like James. I had learned this the hard way.
“Because my parents trust me,” he replied, his eyes glinting. That felt like a punch to my stomach. I heard Watson’s circuits crackle furiously as he stood beside me.
“Why didn’t you get on the bus with Mr Lim?” Wendy asked. Nazhar and Eliza stood behind her looking tense.
“I told you I had something to discuss with Mr Lim. I informed him my parents were sending our car for me and that I should wait at the studio. The school bus dropped me off here.”
“Mr Lim wouldn’t have just left you here alone,” Nazhar said.
“Oh, my old butler is around here somewhere. You’ve met him before, I believe,” James replied dismissively. “Besides, I thought you might need my help to solve the case, seeing that you’ve not figured out anything since we had lunch.”
“You said you know who stole the script,” I said.
“Why yes, yes I did,” James replied.
“Tell us then,” I said.
“Since you’re so smart,” Wendy added.
“But that wouldn’t be any fun at all, would it?” James smiled as he looked at her. “How is your ankle? I hope it hasn’t caused you too much trouble.”
“Just tell us who it is,” I said. “I don’t care about who wins anymore. Uncle Boon Chong is in trouble and we want to help him.”
“Let me think about it,” James said. He steepled his hands in front of his face and stared at me. Moran stood silently (and politely, of course) at his side. “No.”
“You’re so mean!” Jimmy said, pointing at James. “Attack him, Watson!”
“Asimov’s-laws-forbid-me-from-attacking-humans,” Watson replied.
James smirked.
“No-matter-how-mean-and-unlikable-they-may-be.”
The smirk turned into a glare.
I leaned in to whisper to Watson. “Let’s have a robot battle.”
“A-what?” he asked. “I-am-far-too-evolved-for-battle-unless-you-mean-a-battle-of-wits-in-which-case-I-am-very-well-equipped.”
“Let’s have a robot battle!” I shouted at James. “We’ll pit our robots against each other and if Watson wins, you’ll tell us who stole the script.”
“Fine, but if Moran wins, then you’ll have to tell everyone that I’m the better scientist,” James replied.
I was silent for a moment. Could that really be all he wanted? Improbable. I turned to Watson and asked, “Watson, please, I know you don’t like to—”
“I-will-do-it,” my robot replied. “I-may-dis-like-doing-things-that-do-not-involve-reading-in-my-pajamas-but-I-dislike-James-even-more. Also-I-like-it-when-you-are-polite.”
I smiled. I knew he wouldn’t let me down!
“Wow, Watson has trained you to be polite, Sam,” Wendy snickered. I narrowed my eyes at my sister.
“How ridiculous that you would ask it for permission,” James said, snapping his fingers at Moran. His robot moved to stand next to Watson.
“This is so childish,” Eliza said, glaring at me as she crossed her arms across her chest. “What are you guys going to battle? Scissors, paper, stone?”
“Did you guys know that a group of Chinese mathematicians have recently found a way to increase your probability of winning at scissors, paper, stone?” I asked. “They conducted the experiment with 360 test subjects divided into groups of six players. Each group then played 300 rounds of scissors, paper, stone and the scientists recorded the results of each round. The mathematicians found that players tended to choose scissors, paper or stone a third of the time when they played and that this conformed to a scientific theory called the Nash Equilibrium concept. However, they also found that winners in the experiment tended to exhibit what is known as a ‘conditional response’ that had never been detected before in scissors, paper, stone. That response could not be explained by the Nash Equilibrium concept. However—”
I stopped explaining when I realised that everyone was staring at me, even James. Jimmy looked down at his hands. He made a scissors with one hand and a stone with the other, and was miming crushing the scissors with the stone.
“You’ll get used to it,” Wendy said before she remembered that she was talking to James. “Sam! FOCUS!”
I blinked. I found all this information fascinating and could never quite understand why everyone else didn’t. What could be more fascinating than figuring out the mathematical probabilities of winning a game?
“How about hide-and-seek?” Jimmy suddenly asked, looking up from his solo game of scissors, paper, stone. “I lo
ve playing hide-and-seek with my sisters! Sometimes they don’t find me for hours and give up. When I come out, they’re all watching TV so I always win.”
Eliza covered her eyes with her right hand and shook her head. Nazhar bent down and whispered something in Jimmy’s ear. Jimmy’s eyes widened and he said, “Nooo. Really? But my sisters always say they can’t find me! Oooh, just wait till I tell Mama what they’ve been doing!”
“Actually, that’s a good idea,” James said. “It’ll test both speed and visual acuity.” He gestured at Moran, who leaned closer to his master. I couldn’t hear what James was saying, but Moran nodded and said, “Yes, Sir.” I deduced that he was giving his robot instructions.
“Are ittys normally cute?” Jimmy asked.
“What?” Nazhar asked.
“He said it will test a cute itty,” Jimmy said.
“Acuity, Jimmy,” I said, as James grinned widely. “It means how sharp or how good Watson and Moran can see.”
“He does it on purpose, right?” James asked. “It’s a gag? No one’s that dumb.”
“James, if you call my friends dumb one more time—”
“Let-us-begin,” Watson said, interrupting me. “I-will-hide-first.”
Moran walked over to a spot by the wall of the long building and started counting. Watson elongated his legs and climbed onto the roof of the same building. He positioned himself next to a wall and matched the white background perfectly. He was nearly invisible.
I grinned and turned to look at James, but he didn’t seem worried at all. He was smiling and seemed to be admiring his monogrammed white leather shoes.
Moran finished counting and said, “Ready or not, Sir Watson, here I come.”
He stood in the middle of the courtyard and then just…looked. From that position, he surveyed the bottom level of all three buildings, as well as all the equipment, props and costumes in the courtyard. He stared intently at one spot before moving on to another spot a short distance away. The distance seemed to be the same between each spot. And he just kept looking, almost as if he was looking through the walls.
Did Moran have X-ray vision?
Moran shifted his gaze up to the roof of the squat building and immediately stopped at Watson’s hiding place.
“There you are, Sir Watson, camouflaged against the wall, .83 meters from the edge.”
I was flabbergasted. Did Moran have thermal vision?
Watson shimmered back into view, and climbed down into the courtyard. “You-found-me-in-two-minutes-and-twenty-three-seconds.”
“I concur, Sir Watson,” Moran said. “Now if you would be so kind as to begin counting.”
Watson started counting in the same spot that Moran had, and we watched as wheels popped out of Moran’s feet and spurts of flame shot out from behind.
Moran definitely had rocket skates!
I looked at James and he smiled at me. “It’s cooler than flying,” he said.
Moran rolled up the side of the tall building and hid behind a vent on the roof.
When Watson finished counting, he also walked to the centre of the courtyard. There was a muffled pop and he flew into the air. When he got high enough, he extended his arms and legs, and started poking behind everything he could: cameras, scaffolding, chimneys and costumes. He began near the long, squat building. I desperately wanted to tell him to check the tall building first, but I knew that would be cheating.
Watson switched to the tall building, and thankfully started at the top. His left hand must have felt Moran because he then said, “Found-you.”
“Good show, Sir Watson!” Moran said. “You also found me in two minutes and twenty-three seconds!”
Moran immediately descended. However, Watson hovered for a moment longer before he made his way down to us.
“I’d say that’s a tie,” an adult voice said from behind us.
I spun around. Dad was standing there and looking at me with raised eyebrows.
“We were just playing a game, Dad,” I quickly said. “James said he might know something about the case—”
“What would I know about the case, Samuel?” James said, doing a fantastic impression of a surprised 10-year-old boy. “I’m not a detective like all of you. I could only guess at what happened. And, hello, Uncle! It’s so nice to see you again.”
“That’s not what you—” Jimmy burst out.
“And it looks like my car is here,” James continued, sounding so very pleasant. “As much fun as this was, I’m afraid I have to go now. Ever since I was lost, Mum and Dad have been so careful about whom I spend time with. Good luck, Samuel. I do hope you solve your case soon.”
James and Moran left the studio compound and got into their onyx Rolls Royce. His human butler drove them away. There was nothing we could do but watch.
“What was that all about, Sam?” Dad asked. Eliza was standing right next to him and typing a message on her handphone. She quickly put her phone away when Jimmy asked if she preferred to play Candy Crush or Plants vs Zombies on her phone.
“It’s…nothing, Dad,” I said. I didn’t like hiding anything from my dad, especially after what he said to me this morning, but I knew that I would have to regain his trust before I could talk to him about James. I also realised far too late that I should have made Watson record the entire conversation with James and Moran. That would have been concrete proof of James’ evil nature.
Before I could say anything, Eliza’s handphone rang again. I could hum the My Little Pony theme song from memory because of her ringtone. I noticed that it was ‘Jake’s Mom’ again. She seemed to keep calling Eliza to check up on her. Perhaps it was one of her parents’ friends who was supposed to check in on her while they were away. But didn’t Mom say that Eliza’s parents were in Singapore this week?
Then it hit me.
I stared straight at Eliza, shocked. She caught me looking at her and immediately turned away.
“Did you guys get anywhere in your discussion about the case?” Dad asked, giving me a poke in the arm. “Sam?” He was looking at me strangely. I supposed I did look odd standing there with my mouth open and staring at Eliza.
“We…we don’t have concrete evidence yet, Dad,” I finally said.
“I-have-something,” Watson said. “I-found-this-on-the-roof-where-the-other-robot-who-shall-remain-nameless-was-hiding.”
He handed me a key. It was old and rusty, and unlike the slim keys for the doors and gates to our flat, this one was thicker and rounder. It looked like a key that Jimmy’s grandma had once used to open an antique cupboard.
“You found this where Moran was hiding? Specifically where he was hiding behind the vent?” I asked, looking closely at the key.
“I-just-said-that,” Watson replied.
Dad and the Supper Club had gathered around me.
“Do you think James—” Nazhar said, before stopping himself. He glanced at my dad, then asked, “Who do you think hid it there?”
“I don’t know yet,” I said. “But we’re going to find out.” I felt like my head was going to explode. So many things seemed to be happening at once.
“How did someone get a key up so high?” Dad muttered. “Did it fall when someone was up on the roof?”
“A-robot,” Watson said. “Maybe-one-who-is-irritatingly-polite.”
“What?” Dad asked. “The other robot? Why would he do that? Sam, we’ve talked about this feud you’ve been having with poor James—”
“I know, Dad,” I interrupted. “Watson, let’s not speculate without any evidence. And to find that we have to locate the lock that matches this key.”
However, even as I said that, I was having trouble focusing on the new clue. There was something more important that I was going to deal with soon, and I was not looking forward to it.
Everyone was discussing how to go about looking for a way to match the key to a lock, but I was distracted. I could feel Eliza looking at me. I caught her eye more than once and she immediately looked away. She
seemed just as distracted as I was.
Wendy and Nazhar were arguing over how to conduct what Nazhar had decided to call “The Great Lock and Key Hunt”. When Wendy pointed out that it wasn’t a great hunt for a key because the key had already been found, Nazhar changed the name to “The Great and Mysterious Lock Hunt”, but Wendy seemed to find fault with that too because she said that he was overusing adjectives (something she had just learned in English lesson in school, I presumed).
“All the doors here have oldish locks,” Dad said. “I saw them when I was up in Boon’s office. But they seem to still be using the slimmer, more modern keys and not one as round and thick as the key Watson found.”
“The door opposite the toilet has a big keyhole,” Jimmy piped up. “I peeped through the keyhole because I heard the wind. Actually, I thought the room was the toilet at first, but the door was locked. Turns out the toilet is on the other right! It has a sign that says ‘Restroom’ and everything.”
Everyone stopped and stared at him.
Finally I said, “The door with the big keyhole had a restroom sign on it?”
“No, the restroom had a restroom sign on it,” Jimmy said, grinning. “Why would the other door have a restroom sign on it, Sherlock?”
“Because you just said…oh, never mind,” I replied, shaking my head. Sometimes it pays not to argue with Jimmy-logic. “Can you show us where it is, Jimmy?”
“Do you sometimes think that we wouldn’t solve any cases without Jimmy?” Wendy whispered to Nazhar. I turned to glare at them and caught Nazhar mid-nod. He froze and grinned sheepishly.
Jimmy led us to the old-looking building between the two buildings Moran and Watson had hidden in. There were a lot of stains on the exterior, unlike the very clean walls of the other two buildings. Once he stopped and sniffed the air, turning towards the direction of the scent. Eliza didn’t even sigh. She was unnaturally quiet, I noticed.
“I wonder why they didn’t clean up this building?” Nazhar asked.
Just then, right before we turned the corner, we heard a voice call out to us.