Spirit Tiger by Barbara Ismail Read Free Book Online

slow them down.
    â€˜What about him?’ Rubiah asked gently.
    â€˜You’ve … you’ve found him?’
    â€˜Where did he go?’
    â€˜I don’t know,’ she wailed. ‘He hasn’t been home for two days. I don’t know where he is, or even if he’s alive.’
    â€˜I think you’d better start from the beginning, Kakak ,’ Maryam advised her, separating Munira’s grasping hands and placing them at her sides. She offered her one of her cigarettes, hoping this activity would stop the other, and it appeared to work. Munira held the cigarette in both hands as though she might drink it, and then looked sharply around her.
    â€˜Who are you?’ she asked.
    â€˜I am Rubiah and this is Maryam,’ she explained, and waved her hand toward Rahman. ‘He is from the Kota Bharu Police, whom we are helping. We’re looking into Che Yusuf’s passing.’
    â€˜Why?’
    â€˜Well, someone killed him, Kakak , and we want to help bring this person to justice.’
    Munira’s hands began to tremble. ‘He was not a good man.’
    â€˜Tell me,’ Maryam urged.
    â€˜I shouldn’t really. I mean, it could mean trouble for us, for my husband. He’s had some bad luck, you know, it’s been very difficult for him.’
    Maryam and Rubiah arranged their expressions to show concern and sympathy, erasing any trace of either disapproval or disbelief.
    â€˜Ruslan gambles a bit,’ she began, resisting the urge to twist her hands once more. ‘I mean, it isn’t anything serious.’ She looked at them to see if they believed her. They did not, but made no comment nor did their faces twitch. ‘And he’s had a run of bad luck, oh yes! Terrible. I thought perhaps someone had placed a jampi on him to deprive him of his luck. I still don’t know …’ Her voice petered out.
    â€˜Had he been lucky before?’
    She seemed puzzled. ‘Well, you know … sometimes you are, sometimes not. But this seemed different because it went on for so long, and …’ she paused here for effect. ‘He lost a lot of money. A lot.’
    â€˜Where did he get a lot of money to lose?’ Maryam asked, fearing she already knew the answer.
    â€˜ Che Yusuf lent it to him.’ Maryam had been correct. ‘I mean, at the house, he lent it to him while he was playing so he could keep going. And then, when he was finished, he’d lost all of that and now owed Yusuf all this money, which we don’t have.’
    A quick perusal of the room confirmed that. ‘Did Che Yusuf come here to talk about it?’
    She nodded, and commenced twisting her hands again. Maryam stifled the urge to slap them apart and make her sit on them to keep them still.
    â€˜He came here. Just once, last week, I think. He just spoke to us, very polite, but I knew. Oh yes, I knew what would happen next. I’ve known Yusuf for a while, and I’ve heard stories. He gets paid back, one way or another.
    â€˜I knew it as soon as I saw him walk up to the house. “Munira,” I said to myself, “you’re in trouble now.”’ She nodded, and looked philosophical. ‘Ruslan always tries to see things in a good light, and he thinks everything will work out, but I knew, no matter how friendly Yusuf looked, it was bad.’
    â€˜When did Ruslan leave?’ Maryam asked gently.
    She thought for a moment. ‘The next day he went out to talk to people. About money, you see.’
    â€˜Who?’ Rubiah pressed her.
    â€˜I don’t know,’ she said sadly. ‘I don’t know anyone who could lend us that kind of money. Maybe go to a money lender? But we’d never get out from under something like that. We’d be ruined either way: ludah mati pak, telan mati mak – spit it out and your father dies, swallow it and your mother dies. We’re doomed, and now he’s gone. I don’t know