Aunty Lee's Deadly Specials (19 page)

They should have agreed on a story, Aunty Lee thought. Both explanations were completely
credible but side by side they canceled each other out. The difficulty with telling
anything other than the truth was that there were so many “others.”

Henry cleared his throat. “Well, actually I tried your chicken
buah keluak
that day at the party—”

“How did you find it?” Henry was clearly trying to change the subject but Aunty Lee
was always ready to talk about food, especially hers. In her experience people’s attitude
toward food mirrored their attitude toward life.

“Oh, I thought it was good. Narrow escape, huh! But we’re not saying it was the chicken
dish that killed them. Just that we should all move on as quickly as possible. Edmond
was saying he didn’t see the point in people eating all these things that are potentially
dangerous. Young people like him, they don’t appreciate our traditional foods.”

Dr. Yong was a liar. Aunty Lee had seen his platefuls of emptied
buah keluak
casings.

“Edmond Yong is staying at the house while we’re here,” Sharon Sung said as she walked
past them toward the corridor beyond.

“Rosie wants to come for the prayer and healing group, Henry,” Doreen Choo said. “She
needs to do her—what was it, Rosie?”

“Knees,” said Aunty Lee as she got to her feet and felt the creak. She had hinted
it was her eyes but suddenly she could not bear the thought of Henry Sung looking
into her eyeballs with sharp objects at hand. Luckily Doreen Choo had not been paying
attention.

“I don’t know—” Henry Sung said. “It’s a closed group. That means you cannot just
go around telling people about it.”

“Of course Aunty Doreen’s friend can come,” Sharon Sung said, pausing in the corridor.
“We’ll be meeting here on Tuesday night. Six
P.M
. I’ll tell Edmond you will be joining us.”

Sharon disappeared into one of the rooms, having made her pronouncement. The three
older people looked at one another. It appeared Mabel’s mantle had been assumed by
her daughter.

“I should be going,” Aunty Lee said.

Aunty Lee’s Delights Closed

The next morning Inspector Salim was summoned to Phoenix Park again.

“The news is good and bad. The
buah keluak
poison is not what killed Mabel Sung and her son. According to forensics, the poison
was in the
buah keluak
but it was commercial cyanide—added to the dish, not in it to begin with. It took
the lab so long because they wanted to be sure. It is from the same family of poisons
but was commercially processed. Probably from the rat poison or anti-algae agent found
there. The lab is testing samples to confirm that now.”

“So Aunty Lee is officially off the hook?” Salim asked thoughtfully.

“I expected you would be happier to hear that,” Commissioner Raja said.

“I suppose the bad news is if it was not a
buah keluak
accident somebody deliberately put the poison in the food?”

“That was supposed to be the good news.”

“Sir?”

“Henry Sung’s ex-minister friends want us to drop it. They say it’s nobody’s business
but the family’s.”

“That’s what people might call cronyism.”

“The old guard sees it as the spirit of sticking together and watching out for one
another.”

“Watching out for each other against outsiders?”

“The true spirit of Singapore that made us is in these people. They built this country
as new immigrants and activists.”

“And now their children don’t want to take responsibility for anything but feel entitled
to a good life just because they were born here.”

“The majority is still willing to work hard, Salim. I would call you one of the good
examples of that.”

“But there is a group of privileged who are realizing how precarious their position
is. That’s what this is all about, isn’t it? These people are fighting to not lose
what they think they have even if they are not willing to work to increase it.”

“We are not having a political or sociological debate so early in the morning, Inspector
Salim. Or at least I’m not.”

“You’re telling me to drop what should be a murder investigation?”

“I’m telling you this is not officially a murder investigation. Most likely it was
a mercy killing and suicide. Mrs. Sung could not bear to watch her son suffer, knew
there was no hope for him, and killed him and herself. Henry Sung knows it but cannot
admit it because Christians don’t commit suicide. They only have Accidents, Misadventures,
and While Of Unsound Mind Incidents. Anyway, digging into all that is not going to
help anybody. Best to just drop it and let the family get over things quietly.

“And we have received other complaints against Aunty Lee’s Delights—the hygiene standards
in the shop kitchen, the lack of temperature monitors for the heaters, the domestic
helper illegally working at a business location.” Commissioner Raja did not enjoy
saying this, but he was glad he was not the one who would be saying it to Aunty Lee.

“So you want me to close down the shop even though you know they had nothing to do
with Mabel Sung’s death?”

“It’s not my call. We have to investigate all complaints and in this case letters
were sent to the National Environment Agency, a town council leader, and a high court
judge who asked us to look into it. The notice has already been forwarded to your
people. The closure is temporary pending results of the investigation.”

“How many complaints?” Salim asked.

“Four that I know of. This is separate from the poisoning case.” Commissioner Raja
looked at Salim.

“Four complaints from four different people?” Salim found this hard to believe. “Why
now? It has to have something to do with the Sungs.”

“I forwarded the NEA report to you with the closure notice. The judge and town council
leader had their assistants phone in the investigation request.”

“I’ll get back and take a look at the notice.” Salim had come straight to headquarters
after getting the summons at home that morning.

“Your Sergeant Panchal signed for the notice. She said she would see to it.”

Outside Aunty Lee’s Delights

A woman in the familiar blue uniform of the Singapore Police Force stood in the entryway
of Aunty Lee’s Delights, triggering the door jangle repeatedly.

Her presence was nothing out of the ordinary. Officers from the nearby Bukit Tinggi
Neighborhood Police Post often dropped in for Aunty Lee’s treats to take advantage
of the “in uniform” discount set up for students and national servicemen. Still, Nina
watched the woman suspiciously. Nina was fond of Inspector Salim (who Aunty Lee claimed
had turned down a promotion to stay near Nina) and knew most people in Singapore trusted
the police. But underneath their uniforms they were still people. When times were
good it was easy for people to do the right thing. But if times changed, they were
people with the weapons and the power.

“After all the trouble last year I hope that this year is going to be easier,” Nina
said as Aunty Lee came to join her. “Now looks like this year is going to be even
worse.”

“Can I help you?” Aunty Lee said pleasantly. “What are you putting on my door?”

“There have been several complaints about your food and the hygiene of your kitchens,”
Staff Sergeant Panchal said. “This is a notice of temporary closure pending investigation.
If our investigations reveal your food was involved in the poisoning of two people,
then we will press charges,” Despite the lab results Panchal still had not given up
on what she considered the best solution to the deaths.

Aunty Lee looked shocked. “
Aiyoh!
Are you going to arrest me? Are you going to use handcuffs? Can I take my heart medication
and my high-blood-pressure medication to prison with me? And my allergy pills and
my antiseizure stress pills?”

“Oh no—” Panchal said. “I am not arresting you . . .”

“Are you sure? If you think my food killed those people, why aren’t you arresting
me?”

“Pending investigation. After investigations are concluded we will get back to you.”

“But I am catering a dinner party tonight. I have to get all the food there and ready
by six
P.M
.”

“I am afraid that is impossible. You will have to cancel. We will also be taking samples
from your kitchen for investigation.”

“Who asked you to come and test our food? When did they ask you to come and test?
Our kitchen test was already done, you know!”

Since Nina was only a maid, SS Panchal was inclined to ignore her. But Nina was difficult
to ignore.

“We got A1 cert. You want to see our A1 cert? Anyway who asked you? You must have
documentation before we let you in! Or else how do we know you are not coming here
to put poison inside our food and blame us if it kills someone?”

“Everything we used on Saturday has been washed already,” Aunty Lee said. “But you
can look around the kitchen and test what you want. Nina, you go and show her whatever
she wants.”

“But, ma’am! She got no search warrant!”

Outside there was a screeching of brakes and a clanging of crushed metal as the red
prayer ash bin on the grass verge was knocked over by Salim’s Subaru. The car jerked
to a stop and Salim leaped across the drain and sprinted across to them. “Thanks,
Panchal, I’ll take it from here.”

“Sir, you didn’t close your car door.”

Salim pulled the café door shut behind him, cutting off its welcome jangles in midchime.
Outside, Staff Sergeant Panchal shrugged and resumed taping the closure notice on
the door.

“Aunty Lee, Nina, let me take care of this—Nina put down that chopper—”

“They have to sign this.” With another jangle Panchal entered. Salim took the envelope
without a word.

“Sir, you want me to close your car door and lock your car for you?”

Salim, waiting for her to leave, did not reply.

“Would you like a cold drink before going?” Aunty Lee asked Panchal cordially.

“Mrs. Lee, I must inform you that while your food and beverage license is suspended
pending investigation of your kitchens and premises, you will incur additional fines
and or penalties if you contravene the suspension order.”

Salim finally spoke. “Panchal. Get out. Now.”

Panchal left. Inspector Salim would regret being so rude to her when she filed her
complaint about this and all his other breaches of protocol. She stopped to take a
phone snap of the badly parked police patrol car her boss had arrived in to add to
the list of his misdemeanors.

Salim handed the envelope to Aunty Lee. He already knew what it said. He had been
trying to get the order suspended pending investigation when he learned SS Panchal
had taken it upon herself to execute it.

“I promise you, this is all just temporary. I can’t explain why right now. I need
you to sign this to show that you understand you cannot operate out of these premises
until the investigation is complete. The restriction includes not selling elsewhere
food that has been prepared here. I’m sorry. We have to follow procedure. It’s not
my female colleague’s fault. The orders came from top down. She’s new—”

“She is a monster,” said Nina. “She enjoy bullying old women and servants.”

“So they found poison in the chicken
buah keluak
,” Aunty Lee said.

Salim said carefully, “They found poison in the dish. But there’s was no confirmation
where it came from. This is just a precaution. We received several letters of complaint
from the public and we have to respond.”

Though it was her café and kitchen he was putting out of business, Aunty Lee felt
sorry for him. And now she knew what Henry had done with the letters Doreen had been
talking about.

“Let me see. Nina, read it for me and show me where to sign, please. Salim, would
you like a glass of tea?” Tea was the last thing on Salim’s mind but he recognized
and appreciated her gesture of deliberately ignoring Panchal’s rudeness.

“Thank you. Not now.”

“Hey, what are you doing?” Cherril’s voice came from outside. “Stop that!”

With a gentle but firm grip on her arm, Mycroft Peters propelled his wife into the
café without waiting for Sergeant Panchal to answer.

“What’s that woman putting up on the door?” Cherril demanded, directing the question
at everyone in the café. Aunty Lee held up the letter without a word but Nina, taking
it from her, held it out to Cherril between thumb and forefinger as though it was
something dirty or dangerous.

“Madam, you should not sign it. Madam Cherril, look! Tell her not to sign! This says
that there have been complaints that our kitchen is not up to hygiene standards. It
says after receiving several complaints of food poisoning from here, they must investigate.
Madam, this is all lies!”

“Charges have been made,” Salim said. “So we must investigate.”

“And if nothing is wrong who is going to pay us back for the money lost? She still
has to pay rent here even if we cannot do business. Who made those complaints?” Cherril
seized the letter from Nina.

“We should let them get on with their investigation,” Aunty Lee said quietly. “Can
you find me a pen? Oh, thank you, Salim. Cherril, give me the paper. Where do I sign?”

“We are investigating Henry Sung also,” Salim said to Nina. “With married couples,
you don’t know what is going on underneath the surface.”

“That’s why better never to get married!” Nina said.

“No. It’s not Henry,” Aunty Lee said. “I’m sure he wanted to kill his wife at times
but I doubt he would have done it so publicly. And he would not have killed his son.”

The problem was Aunty Lee was certain Mabel would not have killed her son either—even
as a mercy killing.

“Do something!” Cherril said to her husband. “Can’t you stop them? This is police
harassment and brutality and all those kinds of things!”

“I’m sorry,” Salim said again, glancing at Nina, who was standing, silent, beside
Aunty Lee.