Meddling and Murder: An Aunty Lee Mystery. Ovidia Yu

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ had already taken care of everything. She had told Salim she would not go with him to meet his mother; made it clear that she would not go anywhere with him, they could never be anything more to each other than customer and waitress. This was slightly complicated by the fact that the customer was a police officer and the waitress was violating her domestic work permit. But if Salim had accepted it, why couldn’t Aunty Lee?

      Singapore was a multiracial, multicultural city largely run by English educated Chinese people, and Aunty Lee was a very wealthy English-educated Chinese woman. Fond as she was of her boss, Nina suspected Aunty Lee was barely aware how differently the island’s rules and regulations looked to those below and from the outside.

      After Aunty Lee’s last tirade on love and the rarity of ‘Good Men’, Nina was not sorry the older woman had gone out. She only hoped Aunty Lee was not headed to the police post to tackle Salim. Again.

      ‘What’s wrong with Nina?’ SS Panchal asked. She wondered if it had anything to do with Inspector Salim’s subdued mood over the last week. You didn’t have to be a kaypoh – a busybody – as Aunty Lee was to see how much Salim liked Aunty Lee’s helper. Aunty Lee had not seemed to mind, but her kiasu side might have kicked in. Had she, afraid of losing Nina, banned Nina from seeing the police officer?

      ‘What’s wrong is that stupid girl won’t listen to me! I told her they should quick quick make up their minds and get married now that the property prices are down. Then they can get a flat near here … Clementi perhaps, or Bukit Batok. Then Salim can go on working at his police post and Nina can go on working for me.

      ‘I told Nina I was going to tell Salim to faster faster apply for permission to marry her. Do you know what she told me?’

      ‘That it’s very difficult for foreign domestic helpers to get permission to marry locals?’ Panchal guessed. That was well known. ‘Aunty Lee, can I help you get out of the drain?’

      ‘Difficult is not impossible. Foreign domestic helpers also not supposed to drive, what? But I got permission for Nina to drive. You just got to apply and apply and apply until they see you are serious. But Nina told me “No”. She and Salim never getting married. Good bye! Finish! Chop-chop!’

      ‘Ah.’ Panchal could not remember anything about talking people out of drains. But she had attended a seminar on talking suicides off balconies. ‘If you come out of the drain we can talk about it?’

      Just then, her phone buzzed.

      ‘Inspector? No, not another burglary. It’s Aunty Lee. She’s in a storm drain. No, she’s not hurt.’

      ‘Tell Inspector Salim I said Hello!’ Aunty Lee called up.

      Despite having been involved in several of Salim’s murder cases, Aunty Lee was still somewhat in awe of the Inspector. She had been on her way to tell him what cute and clever children he and Nina could have together. And how true love would be enough to overcome any differences in their Muslim and Catholic backgrounds. But remembering Nina’s refusal to listen to her, Aunty Lee’s steps had slowed … that was when she had seen the wild kesum growing on the slope by the storm drain next to the house that had been under construction for so long.

      Daun kesum or kesum leaves were such an essential ingredient in making laksa that many people referred to them as daun laksa or laksa leaves. The oils of the young kesum leaves gave just the right aroma to spicy assam laksa. In the old days the creeper with its tiny purple flowers had been easy to find in muddy roadside ditches or growing along shallow drains. When you wanted to cook you went outside and plucked what you needed. But today’s Singapore lacked muddy ditches and shallow drains. As a weed rather than a cash crop, kesum was seldom found in markets and never in supermarkets. Too often Aunty Lee had been reduced to using mint leaves as an alternative. Though no one had complained, the compromise galled her. Forget love problems. Make good laksa, she had decided. That renovations had damaged the protective barrier around the drain made it easier for her to climb round to the weed-filled slope.

      ‘Inspector Salim would like you to get out of the drain, Aunty Lee,’ SS Panchal said. ‘And I need to let Mr and Mrs Guang know you are not at risk.’

      By now the Guangs had come downstairs and were watching from just outside their gate. ‘How did you get down there? Can you get out?’

      ‘There’s a path on that side behind the bushes. Here, hold for me first.’ Balancing against the stone side of the drain, where it ran underground beneath the road, Aunty Lee reached up with a bunch of leafy stalks which SS Panchal squatted to pull through the railings.

      ‘Please be careful, Mrs Lee.’

      ‘You please be careful of my kesum leaves!’

      Once her hands were free, Aunty Lee scrambled up the overgrown slope on her hands and knees as a child might. Though undignified it was effective and she was soon standing by Panchal brushing herself down.

      ‘You should apologize to these people for worrying them.’ SS Panchal smiled at the Guangs. They nodded back cautiously.

      ‘I don’t see what the big fuss is about. Nobody was going to use the kesum. Anyway it will grow back. I didn’t pull up the roots. Why shouldn’t I take it?’ Aunty Lee grumbled.

      ‘Outside of community gardens of which you are a registered member, the plucking of fruit and flowers in public spaces without permission is an offence which carries a fine of up to $5,000,’ Panchal recited dutifully. Now it was time to Defuse Neighbourhood Tensions. She handed Aunty Lee’s leafy loot back to her before waving to the new neighbours. Mr and Mrs Guang came over, still looking suspicious. No doubt they had expected Aunty Lee to be removed in handcuffs.

      ‘So sorry I frightened you! I wanted to get these leaves to cook my laksa. Later you must come to my shop and try my assam laksa. My treat. I hope you will come and try?’ Aunty Lee beamed hopefully at the Guangs, and to Panchal’s surprise they melted. Aunty Lee was so plump, positive, and genuinely good-natured.

      ‘Sorry, sorry,’ they repeated, bowing.‘We hear there are many house burglaries in Singapore, that’s why we are worried,’ Mr Guang said. ‘And the police signs say we must report suspicious activity.’

      ‘Oh I totally understand!’ Aunty Lee said. ‘One of my old school friends kenah. So terrible hor!’

      They launched into an animated discussion of burglar alarms and guard dogs till Panchal said: ‘You want me to phone Nina to come and get you?’

      ‘No! I don’t want to see Nina!’ Aunty Lee winced at the thought of facing Nina with nothing resolved. ‘Don’t you have to take me to the police station to question me?’ Perhaps she could still have a quick word with Inspector Salim.

      ‘We know where to find you if we need to ask questions. Don’t you want to get your leaves back to your house or to your shop?’

      Aunty Lee’s bungalow was deep in the right branch of the housing estate, about ten minutes by foot beyond the row of shop houses where her café was.

      ‘You better bring me back to the shop,’ Aunty Lee sighed. She got into the police car then lowered the window to call out to her new friends: ‘You must come to my shop to eat!’

      Truth be told, it was not just because of Nina that Aunty Lee was feeling СКАЧАТЬ