The Feng Shui Detective's Casebook by Nury Vittachi Read Free Book Online

salt, metal, fire and other elements into significant spaces to balance the elements to some degree.
    The apartment, her compass told her, was in the north of the building, and most of the large tanks were grouped in the north or northwest part of it. Her plan proposed that a large number of potted trees be brought into the apartment, to absorb some of the excess water ch ’ i energy. For the northwest room, she knew that metal ch ’ i energy would be the right solution. A display of silver objects in that corner would do it, she reckoned.
    She had concluded that the overall influence of the rows of tanks could be made positive. After all, in feng shui terms water was related to money. Wong had taught her that money flowed through modern society in exactly the same way that in ancient times, streams flowed and water gourds were exchanged in well-laid out human settlements.
    Standing water was yin, since it could so easily stagnate. But moving water was yang. Every one of these tanks was full of live creatures, and the water was clean and looked like it had been regularly changed, so that alleviated the negative yin effects to a great degree.
    It was a pretty amazing way to use a flat, she decided. When Wong had told her that Tik was obsessed with fish, she had not realised how extreme a compulsion like that could get. For example, there was no bed in the bedroom, only large tanks with more fish. Did he sleep with them? Or had he given up his whole apartment for the fish and gone to camp in a hotel somewhere? Water features in a bedroom were a big no-no, but since none of the rooms actually featured a bed, she had to assume that there were no rooms used for that purpose.
    To get dry, Joyce had removed most of her clothes, squeezed water out of them and then left them on the balcony. She had done most of the work in her underwear. In the intervening three hours, the Singapore heat had done its stuff, and she would soon have reasonably dry garments to put on. She decided she had done enough work here, over and above the call of duty, and it was time to head off back to Telok Ayer Street.
    That’s when she discovered that she was locked in. Neither the front nor back door would open. Each was triple-locked. She recalled the padlock and chain on the gate outside the front door.
    She was trapped. Her mobile phone still wasn’t working and there was no landline in the apartment. How was she going to get out? She went out onto the balcony and tried to climb back up onto the roof, to see if she could get out the way she had entered. But it was too high. There were no chairs or ladders in the apartment on which to stand. She tried clambering back onto the slippery windowsill, but there was an overhang above it that prevented her reaching up towards the edge of the roof.
    Perhaps there was something else in the house which she could stand on? But no: there was nothing suitable—not one chair except the low stool on which she had sat to do her writing in the kitchen. She searched every inch of the house and peered out of every window but could find no way of escaping. She was well and truly stuck.
    Joyce felt panic welling up inside her. But she took deep breaths and forced herself to remain rational. She was in no danger, she told herself. First, Wong and Winnie both knew where she was. They would come and get her. Second, Mr Tik would eventually have to turn up to feed his fish. Surely they had to be fed once a day or so? Besides, she wasn’t going to come to any harm through lack of food or water. The taps and electricity were still working. If she found herself actually starving, she could always find a cooking pan and eat one of the fish—if she could bring herself to do such a thing. No, there was no real danger. All she needed to do was stay alive until help came along.
    But waiting to be rescued was boring. Watching exotic sea creatures go around in their tanks quickly lost its allure. And the place was stinky. After four