Aunty Lee's Chilled Revenge (7 page)

Mike in Singapore

Once given a name, pointed in the right direction, and released, nothing can beat the Singapore system for efficiency. By Monday morning an airline booking, immigration and credit card records, and an observant hotel doorman placed Mike Fitzgerald in Singapore and proved he had been in Singapore the day his ex-wife was murdered.

“And now poor old Vallerie is stuck in Singapore staying with Aunty Lee.” It was early morning in Singapore but she had no idea of the time where Mike was. Lying on her side in bed, Josephine carefully focused her carefully lined eyes on the camera on her iPad Air rather than looking at the image of Mike on its screen. She recorded all her Skype conversations with Mike so she could study his face and responses all she wanted to—later. But while online it was more impor
tant to give Mike the impression she was looking directly into his eyes. Josephine understood the importance of making people feel they were the single focus of your attention.

“And of course—poor Allison. I mean, I can't say I liked her, but nobody deserves to die like that . . . Still, I'm not sorry her stupid lawsuit is off.”

She had been a little apprehensive of how Mike would take the news of Allison's death. His ex-wife had been an off-the-wall loony, but the man had once found her worth marrying. Now the woman was no longer a threat, so Josephine could afford to be gracious. Mike would be in Singapore soon, and part of her was very glad that what had happened to Allison had happened before his arrival.

Though Josephine had met Allison in person only a few times, she knew how vindictive the woman had been. That was why Josephine had been so adamant that she didn't want Mike's ex-wife to know they were engaged. Dreadful as it was, Allison's murder actually made things much easier for Josephine and Mike Fitzgerald. Now they could go ahead without being afraid that a crazy woman was going to come and wreck everything.

“I wish you could come over sooner,” Josephine said. “I wish we could just move everything up or just go away together and forget about all these awful people!” She did not really mean that. Mike had booked a suite at the Shangri-La, where they would be staying while he was in Singapore. Their engagement party was going to be in the Shangri-La's Amethyst Room. It was not a very large room, but then they had planned to have a very, very small (but still classy) party.
But now their main reason for keeping things small and quiet was dead . . .

“We can probably get the Shangri-La to give us a bigger room, if they don't have any other bookings. Some of my old schoolmates married people it would be useful for you to know if we're going to be living part of the year in Singapore. I can invite them if we get a bigger room.”

Mike did not answer immediately. Josephine had rolled onto her back as she talked, but now she sat up and her eyes flicked to the image of Mike on the iPad screen. Mike was better looking in person than on-screen and seemed to be staring at her left shoulder. Josephine knew this was because of the position of the camera on his MacBook and quickly redirected her own eyes to her device's tiny camera window.

“It probably won't cost much more.”

“Maybe we should wait a bit,” Mike said. “There are so many complications now.” His out-of-focus hand blurred across the screen as he rubbed his eyes.

“Wait?” Josephine said sharply. “We've been waiting.” She was about to remind him that the biggest and nastiest of their complications was dead, but she heard the shrill note in her voice and stopped herself in time. Allison was dead and Josephine was alive—she had already won. She just had to anchor down her prize before the complication inside her grew much larger.

Mike had always refused to discuss his ex-wife with her. He said there was no point dwelling on things that could not be changed. “Define the lesson and move on,” she had heard him telling his children. Oh, those children. Of course Mike
was probably thinking of those blasted children. It was because of them that Mike had been tied to his ex-wife even after their divorce. Josephine had done her best to win them over on her last visit to England, but what did you talk about to children? They seemed to adore their mother even after a restraining order was needed to prevent Allison from wrecking the house and attacking their babysitter. Josephine pulled her attention back to the screen and saw uncertainty in Mike's face. What had she said to trigger that? Oh . . . Josephine continued in the same urgent tone: “Can you imagine what it must be like for the poor kids, having to go to school, having to carry on with their—whatever—without knowing what's going to happen to them next?”

It worked. Thinking his sweet Josephine had united his children and herself as “we,” a big load lifted in Mike Fitzgerald's mind. “We'll work something out,” he promised with a warm smile. “We'll talk to them together and see how they feel about living in Singapore.”

There was no way Josephine wanted Mike's children in Singapore with them. Allison had always turned to Mike when she got into trouble or ran out of money, but at least that could be handled with a call to a lawyer or a bank. Having two stepchildren underfoot all the time was a different matter. She would have to look into boarding schools . . . but that could wait till after they were married.

“How are the children taking it?” she asked, adding, “Poor things,” to sound sympathetic rather than ghoulishly curious.

“I suppose I should talk to that sister of hers,” Mike said
without answering her question. “Do you know what she plans to do?”

“About Allison, you mean?”

“No, about the bloody financial crisis. Or why don't I ask you what you plan to do about the financial crisis, huh?”

Josephine said nothing. She would get him to work on his anger management issues, but not till after they were safely married.

“So you're going to get all hurt and sensitive on me now?”

Josephine still did not say anything but looked away and gave a muffled little sniff. It worked.

“Look, sweets, I'm sorry. But you've got to understand the pressure I'm under. You don't know what the last few years with Allison were like and then all this. I wish she hadn't dragged Singapore into it. It's almost as though this is one of her manipulations.”

“She's dead, Mike. No more manipulations.”

“Yes. Of course. If her sister's already in Singapore she might want to take care of everything before I get there. But I'll send you something. Tell her I'll help with the expenses. Just make sure you see the receipts and make her sign for anything you give her.”

“Okay.” Though Josephine didn't think Vallerie would be up to handling anything. The woman had fallen apart, wailing that Allison's husband and children should be with her, but she was not going to tell Allison's ex-husband that.

“Do you know what happened to her? All they told me is she was alone in the hotel room and someone came in and killed her.”

“That's all I know.”

“Was she—did they do anything else to her?”

“I don't think she was raped,” Josephine said. Though why should that be so important to him? “So are you coming over earlier then?”

“I suppose I should try to. At least there are compensations.”

She knew he was trying to be nice, even trying to flirt a little. But Josephine was not sure that she wanted to be a compensation. And she had her own news for him. “Mike, I have something important to tell you.”

“Hang on just a sec. I've got a call coming through. One of the kids—”

While she waited Josephine thought about what she was going to tell Mike, what she hoped he would say to her . . . and what he would probably say. “You must do whatever you think best” was one of Mike's favorite responses, which said exactly nothing. What she really wanted him to say was “That's wonderful, I'm so happy for us, let's get married right away!” but though this sounded good in her fantasies, she knew it was not likely to come out of the practical and systematic Mike Fitzgerald.

Then just as quickly he was back and already reaching out to break the connection as he said, “Sorry, sweet lips. Got to go.” She heard someone at the door, knocking and calling out to him. She could not make out what they were saying but there was something strangely familiar—almost a Singaporean timbre—about their voices.

“Wait, Mikey—I didn't get my good-bye kiss—who's that calling you?”

But her screen went dead. Josephine waited for Mike to call back but he did not. That was the problem with long-distance communications. Was it Myanmar or Cambodia Mike Fitzgerald was in now? Josephine was not really interested enough to keep track of countries without designer malls. Besides, another call was coming in for her. It was a local number, so she took her time getting to it. There was no one in Singapore she wanted to speak to with any urgency. And she wanted to take a moment to enjoy the sensation of being in touch with Mike, even if only via Skype. They would not be separated for much longer now. And once they were married she would put an end to his traveling to places she was not interested in.

Josephine had no objections to marrying a divorcé. By the time a man had proved himself someone worth marrying, chances were he was already married—or unmarried for reasons that might surface disastrously later. But a dead first wife was much more respectable and far less trouble than a divorced one. So as far as Josephine was concerned, things were going very well with Mike. With Gucci, Lanvin, Moncler, and Stella McCartney now making clothes for children, Josephine would definitely have the edge over all the other mothers when it came to dressing a child, as long as its father could afford her. The biggest problem with winning a beauty title was how swiftly your year of glory passed in an exhausting crush of events. And how it dated you forever after. The
first question most people asked was “What year did you win the title?” followed by “You still look quite young” or “You look exactly the same,” which was both untrue and condescending. Winning beauty pageants had catapulted Oprah, Diane Sawyer, and Halle Berry into celebrity-status careers—why couldn't the same have happened for her? After years of waiting for success Josephine knew why: because she was trapped in Singapore. The ex–beauty queens Singapore considered most successful were running companies and giving talks to graduates on how “looks are not enough” in between being photographed jogging with handsome husbands and teaching cute children the importance of recycling. In other words, no success at all as far as Josephine was concerned. She needed a husband who could get her out of Singapore.

“Madame, Madame Anne phoned to say if you want to sit in the chair she will push you one round while she is walking the dog. You can go out and come back before it rains. And Commissioner Raja said since the restaurant is closed today he will take you out to eat dinner.”

“Tell him he can bring me out for dessert. By the time that man is free to eat dinner I starve to death already!” The café might be closed, but there was always something to eat as they prepared for the coming week.

Vallerie looked curious but Aunty Lee shook her head casually. “Old friends,” she said. “Old people like us, we have to stay in touch.”

Anne Peters was a longtime Binjai Park neighbor. Anne was also Cherril's mother-in-law, and she and Aunty Lee had
grown closer since Aunty Lee helped resolve her daughter Marianne's death two years ago.

Of course Aunty Lee was still not able to go on their morning walks, but she had so missed their chats that one of her late husband ML's old wheelchairs (there were advantages to having a house with two storerooms) had been pressed into service.

“Even without the exercise it's nice to get outside and look at trees,” Aunty Lee said. She was very fond of trees, especially the enormous old trees that had sheltered Singaporeans long before the days of air-conditioned walkways and shopping malls. Whatever people might say about Lee Kuan Yew these days now that the country, like a strictly raised teenager, was demanding more freedom, Aunty Lee would always appreciate Singapore's first prime minister for conceptualizing Singapore as a “garden city” and planning for trees as well as buildings. “Nina, will you bring the chair? Vallerie, do you want to come?”

She knew Vallerie would say no.

Anne Peters pushed Aunty Lee's wheelchair while Aunty Lee held on to Tammy's leash as the dog zigzagged among fascinating smells, other dogs, and the humans in her pack. Though Aunty Lee was quite able to hobble around with her stick indoors, she enjoyed the stately progress they made. It was a brief window of coolness, the sky gray with storm clouds announcing a coming shower.

“The last time I remember doing this was when I was pushing Marianne around in her little pram.” Anne Peters
laughed. Anne was a slim, gracious woman who seemed proud to those who did not know her well. Aunty Lee, who knew her very well, liked and loved the fragile woman protected by her shell of respectability.

As the women enjoyed their gentle promenade, admiring the plants and trees and criticizing renovations in progress, Aunty Lee filled in Anne Peters on all that had happened .

“So Cherril's not involved in anything?”

“Not at all.”

As always, the mention of her daughter-in-law led to Anne lamenting her lack of children. “I know she is still young, but if they don't do something soon it will be too late before they know it. I thought I would have lots of time to have a third, maybe a fourth one. Two boys and two girls, I thought. And maybe one more just to spoil and play with. But then I blinked and now I'm waiting for my first grandchild.”

“Have you asked Mycroft?”

“Mycroft?” Anne Peters laughed. “Mycroft doesn't tell me anything. I don't mean just work and confidential things. But you ask him ‘How was your day, what did you have for lunch?' And it's like he has to swim up to the surface from a great depth and it takes him a while to remember who you are. Then finally he says ‘fine' or something to that effect, and of course by that time you've forgotten what you asked him!