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

lady who says that someone has draped her building with toilet paper with your name on it.’
    ‘What?’
    ‘Someone has written your name on a roll of toilet paper and dropped it out of the top of a building. It’s a message fifteen floors long. In Fort Canning. Do you know anything about this? We’re sending a photographer. Do you have any comment? Mr Wong? Are you there, Mr Wong?’
    But the feng shui master had dropped the phone and was racing down the stairs to get into a taxi.

    Twenty minutes later, CF Wong and Tik Sin-cheung arrived at the apartment block in Fort Canning Road. Tik, who had been roughly manhandled into the taxi by the desperate feng shui master, was still asking questions as they spilled out onto the pavement.
    ‘But I don’t understand. Why do we need to visit my old flat? I store my personal effects there. No one is allowed inside. It’s very personal to me.’
    ‘Someone is inside. You must get her out.’
    ‘What do you mean? Who is inside? And how did she get there? No one can get in. It’s locked. It’s locked with three locks, and there’s a padlock and chain on the steel gate. I’m sure there’s no one inside.’
    ‘She got in, I think.’
    ‘Who? A burglar? Was she trying to steal my fish? I have fish inside. Just a few. They’re mine. Really.’
    ‘No, she is not burglar. She is my assistant.’
    ‘Why did you send your assistant to my old flat? I didn’t ask you to do my old flat.’
    ‘Special service for old customer. We do your new flat and we do your old flat too, free of charge.’
    Tik went quiet. ‘Are you sure she managed to get inside?’
    ‘I think.’
    The businessman spoke slowly, carefully. ‘I have . . . private things in there. I don’t want people to know what’s inside. I have a few new fish. I mean, a lot of new fish.’
    Wong turned to look at him. There was an unmistakable tone of guilt in his voice. Tik spoke again, his voice betraying deep concern. ‘If your staff member has managed to get in, then I will get her out. But you do . . . you do promise full confidentiality, don’t you? You don’t need to tell anyone what was in there, is it?’
    The feng shui master said nothing.
    ‘I would be willing to pay an extra fee, do you know what I mean? A special confidentiality fee? One thousand bucks? One thousand-over bucks?’
    Wong’s mind was racing. Now here was a dilemma—not an ethical one, but a financial one. Clearly Tik had something serious to hide. And the geomancer could hazard a guess as to exactly what it might be. And he, Wong, was now being offered a bribe to keep quiet about it. This was where the math came in. If Tik’s opening offer was one thousand Sing dollars, what would his final offer be? Conversely, what would be the financial effect on his feng shui consultancies if the spate of fishnappings that had swept Singapore continued? In the past month alone, two frustrated customers had cancelled long-term contracts after they had installed expensive fish that had promptly disappeared. He glanced at Tik’s garish clothes and decided that the fish-collector did not have a bright future. Better to put his trust in taking action to ensure the return of stability to the Singapore aquatic scene.
    The geomancer marched swiftly through the main gates of the apartment block and then froze. He saw a young man in a multi-pocketed vest snapping photographs of the long string of toilet paper, swinging in the late afternoon breeze.
    Wong hurriedly backed away, having a deep-rooted fear of the media. He positioned himself on the other side of the main wall, where the press photographer couldn’t see him. ‘You go inside. Unlock door. Let my staff member come out. I wait here,’ he told Tik.
    The businessman, looking ever-more anxious, jingled the keys in his pocket and set off into the apartment block.
    Keeping out of sight of the snapper, the geomancer tried to gaze up at the fifteenth floor. There was nothing to see.
    A police car