Aunty Lee's Deadly Specials (35 page)

“Sung Law was mine, my inheritance. Everybody knew that. I worked for it, I earned
it. And Mabel totally ruined it before handing it to me. What’s more, she had a second
mortgage on the house. You didn’t know that, did you, Pa? There was even a note to
herself, a reminder to tell me she was going to retire to look after Len, but she
still forgot to tell me. She systematically stole from the firm, drained it to pay
for Len’s medical expenses, then put me in charge to take the blame when things fell
apart.”

“Poisoning her with my
buah keluak
wouldn’t help you keep your law firm or your house,” Aunty Lee managed to interject.

“I told you I only wanted to make Len throw up because the only thing that my mother
minded was her precious Lennie feeling bad. She died because she shared Leonard’s
food, though she never shared mine.”

“So she died because of your brother, Leonard,” Aunty Lee said. Henry Sung glanced
at her suspiciously but the old woman was looking sympathetic, as though she understood
what parents had to put up with. “But your poor brother couldn’t help being sick.
Liver failure is a terrible thing. I had a friend who was on liver dialysis for two
years and poor thing, she—”

“Bullshit!” Sharon snapped. “Don’t you see? My fool of a brother did it to himself.
My parents paid a ton of cash for him to study in the States because he didn’t qualify
for Uni here, but instead of getting a degree, he got addicted to heroin. That’s why
his heart was failing, that’s how he got AIDS.”

“Long-term heroin use causes infection in the heart lining and valves,” Henry told
Aunty Lee, “and HIV can be transmitted on needles. Lennie was never one of those gays.”

Sharon snorted.

“Of course not,” Aunty Lee said soothingly. Then, as though by natural thought progression,
“What happened to Benjamin Ng? He helped design the ICU and operating theater at your
house, right?” Aunty Lee asked.

“He was stupid. He thought it was an end-of-life facility for Dad and Mabel and he
was so proud of it. His job was done, finished, but of course that idiot Edmond hadn’t
paid him because he didn’t have the money and apparently Benjamin Ng came back to
check something or change something and saw the body on life support.”

“You mean the dead man from China.”

“He wasn’t dead. That’s the whole point. He was a live donor. Anyway, Edmond freaked
out. Benjamin Ng was threatening the deal, and if the deal didn’t go through there
would be no money for anybody.”

“So Edmond Yong killed Benjamin Ng?”

Sharon shrugged. “He’s an idiot. He panicked and hit his friend on the head, then
dragged him into the pool and drowned him. I only found out about it later because
he got the PRC people to get rid of the body, and Wen Ling, his PRC contact, charged
Mabel for it.”

And that had been the end of Patrick Pang’s friend. Aunty Lee wondered if Patrick
would ever recover.

“But all that was nothing to do with me,” Sharon said. “Mabel was a fool to trust
Edmond Yong. She should have dealt directly with Wen Ling like I did. In less than
one week I set up Mabel’s system much better than Mabel did. Even Wen Ling said I
was much better at it than my mother. Everything was working out fine and then that
fool GraceFaith went and sabotaged everything. But the equipment is still there even
if the body is dead. We just need a new live donor.”

Aunty Lee did not like the sound of that. “And Edmond, did you kill Edmond too?”

“Again, nothing to do with me. After Wen Ling met me, she decided it was much better
working with me than with Edmond. Frankly Edmond was only good for babysitting my
brother. He probably couldn’t even have done the transplants.”

“My friend Doreen Choo said Edmond Yong did her transplants.”

“I did Doreen’s transplants,” Henry Sung said. “They went very well. She was very
pleased. I’m the one who did them. The boy was just a robot. My robot hands. I told
him exactly what to do and he still had trouble. We need to find a better doctor.”

“But when you found out your mother was making money off the organ transplants—” Aunty
Lee began.

“It wasn’t about the money!” Sharon snapped. “If Mabel had thought more about money,
we wouldn’t have got into such a mess. She was rehearsing for Len’s heart transplant.
She didn’t want to take any risks with him. She took risks with everything else but
not with her precious son!”

“I told Mabel that God was testing us by asking us to sacrifice Leonard,” Henry said.
“If only we trusted God, it would be all right. God would send a ram to be sacrificed
instead. But Mabel tried to act on God’s behalf. She tried to provide the sacrificial
ram herself. And now they are both dead.”

“Shut up, Dad,” Sharon Sung said.

“But that’s over now,” Aunty Lee pointed out gently, “and nobody is blaming you for
anything. Why not just forget it and move on?”

“Move on with what? There’s no money left, why can’t anybody see that? But Mabel’s
transplant setup works, even if she was too stupid to see that. We can easily make
back enough to save the firm, save the house.”

It was all about money after all, Aunty Lee thought. For some people it always was—money
and pride, because money was the only thing they valued enough to be proud of.

“I’m doing this for my mother, don’t you see? I’m going to make sure people remember
her as the founder of Sung Law. And as my mother.”

“Wen Ling wanted to be paid for the organs your brother needed before the transplant
operation, didn’t she?” Aunty Lee asked. “That’s why Dr. Yong brought her to the house
the day of the party, to meet Mabel and prove they were rich people who could afford
to pay. They agreed that Wen Ling would take the house if Mabel didn’t come up with
the money.”

“Mabel would never have let her have the house,” Henry Sung said. “She would have
come up with something. She always did.”

“How, by burning it down too.” As Aunty Lee said this she realized she should have
made that connection long ago. That was how Dr. Yong’s debt-laden clinic had been
disposed of.

“Father wanted to just turn off the power, let the man die, and get rid of the body.
But then how were we going to pay for the mortgage on the house, etc.? That body was
money. And we had already paid for it in a way.”

“You’ll have to find another doctor,” Aunty Lee said, “and the police have got the
PRC gang.”

“So we’ll find another doctor. Not a problem. There are tons of doctors from India
complaining online that they have medical degrees but Singapore won’t let them practice
here. My father can supervise the operations. And who needs the PRC gang? I just need
to find another living donor.”

“No—”

“Not you, old woman.”

Aunty Lee did not like the way Sharon looked at Nina.

“People will ask questions,” Aunty Lee said. A small part of her brain warned her
to keep quiet and be terrified because this madwoman was going to kill her and Nina.
But if that was true she had nothing to lose. “People saw you here today.”

“Everybody who was here saw us leave,” Sharon retorted. “And Doreen will swear we
were at her house all night.”

“Nowadays,” Aunty Lee observed, “forensic pathologists can take one look at dead bodies
and tell how the people were murdered!”

Nina might laugh at Aunty Lee’s passion for crime shows imported from America, but
Aunty Lee was certain some of their technology had to be founded on fact.

“She’s right, you know,” Henry Sung said. “Girl, maybe we should just—” He made a
vague gesture that Aunty Lee could not interpret. But Sharon was not to be stopped.

“Just do nothing like you’ve been doing nothing all your life? If you had stopped
Mabel’s mad schemes, we wouldn’t be in this mess now. So just keep your mouth shut.
Have you got the needles?”

“Now?”

“No, next week. Or maybe next month. Just get them, will you?”

As her father went to obey her orders Sharon turned back to Aunty Lee, “Of course
they can do all the tests on you they want. And of course they’ll find out that you
were murdered—by your maid, who stole all your money and disappeared. Mark and Selina
will get your house and money like they’ve always wanted and everybody will live happily
ever after.”

Aunty Lee’s attention was drawn again to the slightly open wine room door. Had she
heard something or was it wishful thinking? Her eyes moved to the portrait of ML Lee
on the wall by the wine room door. ML Lee smiled, benignly protective. ML would not
like her killed in front of him by these people, Aunty Lee thought. This reminded
her that she did not want to be killed by these people.

“Dad, what are you doing? Give me that!”

“What is it?” Aunty Lee asked, pleased (and surprised) to find her voice quite steady.
She could be scared later. Right now she had to make sure she had a “later.”

“Digoxin,” Henry Sung said with a trace of professional pride. “Digitalis is no longer
the first choice of treatment for congestive heart failure, but nobody will be surprised
if you have a heart attack due to digoxin overdose.”

“I thought you were going to make it look as though Nina killed me. Where would Nina
have got hold of digoxin?”

“Nobody is going to worry about that,” Sharon said. Almost mesmerized, Aunty Lee watched
her tilt the syringe and depress the plunger to expel any air.

“People will ask.” Henry put a hand on Sharon’s wrist. “Raja will ask questions. You
don’t know how much trouble that man made about closing this place. He refused to
believe Rosie Lee could have poisoned anybody accidentally or on purpose. He said
he would sooner believe his own mother was a murderer. I had to get a former cabinet
minister and former president of SINDA to put pressure on him before he gave in. And
then he tried to resign. Over a simple kitchen closure!”

“Why SINDA?”

“The Singapore Indian Development Association. All the important Indians and those
who want to get anywhere are members. But I tell you, if anything happens to this
one, Raja Kumar is going to dig into it. And nowadays they can run tests to show what
people died of.” Henry shook his head.

Dear Raja Kumar, Aunty Lee thought. He had got himself into trouble for her and not
even told her about it. Aunty Lee felt bad. But she would thank him if she got out
of this alive.

And Henry Sung?

“You’re not already taking digitalis, are you?” Sharon asked Aunty Lee.

“No. My heart is very healthy. Checkup last week showed no problems at all,” Aunty
Lee said brightly, though she had not been for a medical checkup for years, not since
her husband died.

“Dad, you are so stupid sometimes.” Sharon slammed the syringe onto the counter, snapping
the needle. Aunty Lee winced. But how Sharon handled sharp objects was the least of
her problems right then.

“You’re such a hopeless case! Why did you pick that of all things?” Sharon shouted
at her father.

“Why are you shouting at me? You are the one that told me to get something that would
kill her fast! Anyway you should just leave her here and start a fire. Then even if
they run tests it will show she died of smoke inhalation after being knocked out.
Then they will blame it on the maid. Especially if the maid disappears with all her
money. We should find what money she has here and take it. And from the house also.
You should go there and take the maid’s clothes and passport to show that she ran
away after killing her boss.”

“There might be a fire alarm?” Sharon said. “Is there?”

“Of course,” Aunty Lee said. “Kitchen regulations.” She looked at the kitchen she
was so fond of . . . the storage cubicles specially designed for her dried goods,
spices, and oils . . . the neat stacks of scraped but unwashed plates.

“She’s bluffing,” Henry Sung said. “Where’s the fire alarm, do you see it anywhere?
In these small places they never bother. Plus in a kitchen with all the cooking and
burning and smoke inside and all the smokers with their beer outside, if she really
had a fire alarm it would never stop ringing. Just tie her up, start the fire, and
we get out of here with the servant.”

Aunty Lee said nothing. But she was offended by the suggestion of smoke and burning
in her kitchen. Still, it was better to feel offended than scared.

“Tie her up with what?” Sharon looked around the kitchen space. “I already used the
ketupat
raffia to tie up the maid.”

“Or just lock her in. There must be a toilet or something. Nobody will be able to
tell whether the door was locked from the inside or the outside. They will think that
she locked herself in to escape from the maid and the maid started the fire and ran
away.”

Aunty Lee did not say anything but she threw a long, shifty glance in the direction
of the wine room. Sharon’s eyes lit up.

“In there!” Sharon pulled Aunty Lee to her feet and started dragging her toward the
wine room.

Hot Save

One advantage to being of a certain age is that people expect you to be physically
weak. Aunty Lee stumbled feebly and fell against the wall of storage cubicles containing
jars of spices and oils.

Sharon Sung backed into the wine room, pushing the door open with her shoulder as
she pulled Aunty Lee away from the counter she was steadying herself on.

“Come on, hurry up. Damn, the light in here’s not working—”

The crash of breaking glass and Sharon’s cry of pain startled Aunty Lee. But not so
much that she forgot Henry Sung, who left Nina to see what had happened to his daughter.
Aunty Lee twisted open the jar she had grabbed (with some exasperation at Nina’s strong
fingers that had twisted it shut).

“Henry,” Aunty Lee called out, “over here!”

Automatically Henry Sung turned to Aunty Lee. She threw the contents of the jar in
his face.

“Hey, what—” the old man cried out, startled. He wiped down his face with his hands,
his eyes tearing. Then he screamed, “It’s burning me!” He reeled away, bumping into
a table and knocking over a chair before collapsing to his knees, moaning and sobbing.
He would not be making any more trouble for a while.