The White Amah (30 page)

As he dodged in and out of the snarling commuter traffic on the clogged thoroughfare, Clarence began cursing, honking the horn impatiently at the slow-moving car ahead. He groaned as they came to a halt at yet another red light. He hadn’t banked on running into the evening rush. By the time they turned into the quiet garden square in Belgravia where the Lings leased a luxurious flat it had been dark for over an hour.

‘Wake her up,’ Clarence said, drawing up outside the redbrick Queen Anne Revival building.

Mei Li shook Adele gently.

‘Are we here already?’ Adele yawned sleepily.

‘I’ll never get used to this weather,’ complained Clarence, shivering in the damp foggy air. He sneezed twice. ‘It’s supposed to be summer.’ He picked up a cashmere rug and wrapped it round his drowsy little sister. ‘You better come in too. I might be a while and it’s cold out here.’

Mei Li’s heart sank, but she couldn’t think of a plausible excuse to remain in the car. Why didn’t she have the sense to ask Clarence to drop her off first? She followed Clarence up the well-lit cobbled path lined by a neatly trimmed privet hedge. When he reached the imposing front door, he rang the bell and immediately a veiled housemaid opened it.

‘Welcome home,’ the maid said.

‘Are my parents home?’

‘Madam Ling has retired for the night and Mr Ling isn’t home.’

‘Put Little Sister to bed and show Miss Mei Li where she can freshen up,’ instructed Clarence. With a sigh, his shoulders hunched like an old man, he walked towards the winding marble staircase that led to his mother’s bedroom on the first floor, overlooking the private park they shared with the other residents of the exclusive square.

‘Follow me. We’ll take the lift,’ the maid said in a cold fashion, ignoring Mei Li’s friendly smile.

‘I want Mei Li to put me to bed,’ said Adele, tugging at Mei Li’s sleeve as the lift rose smoothly to the nurseries on the second floor.

‘I expect
Miss
is too grand to wait on you now she’s come up in the world.’ The maid glared at Mei Li, envious of the white amah’s good fortune in bagging a rich husband.

Mei Li ignored the servant’s jealous outburst and winked
at Adele. ‘Me tell you a good story,’ she said with a smile as she stepped out of the lift.

Stroking Adele’s head, the way her grandmother used to do when she was small, Mei Li started to tell her the story of Kumang, the beautiful Dayak maiden who fell in love with Guang, the son of her father’s oldest enemy. But her mind was on her own troubles rather than the star-crossed lovers as she imagined what would happen when Clarence showed Madam Ling Rubiah’s stolen jewellery and told her where they’d found it. She’s bound to blame me, she thought. Any mother would.

Madam Ling had retired early. Ever since that horrendous day when the body of her husband’s whore had been found she’d had trouble sleeping. Suspicions, so vile she dared not repeat them, troubled her dreams. They were foolish fears, unsubstantiated because the evidence incriminated Tuff, and not her husband or sons. She was sitting up in bed watching a Chinese movie on the roll-down screen when her younger son burst into her bedroom looking so apprehensive she shuddered violently, as if a ghost had walked over her grave.

‘What is it? What’s happened?’

Clarence had been rehearsing what he’d say on the journey, but now, in the presence of his mother, he just stood at the foot of her bed, paralysed by fear. He blinked rapidly, in the grip of an emotion so powerful he couldn’t get out a coherent word. Finally he just dropped the security box on the bed and lifted the lid.

Every trace of colour drained from his mother’s face, leaving it pale as a corpse. Her heart began to pound wildly; her chest felt so tight she thought she would suffocate. ‘Aiyoh … my pills,’ she said weakly. Chalky faced, propped up on her
pillows with a glass of water in her hand, Madam Ling listened expressionless as, stuttering and twitching uncontrollably, Clarence spoke.

‘I didn’t mean to kill her. You’ve got to believe me. The only reason I went to her room was to warn her to stay away from father and then …’ He stopped. How could he tell his respected and beloved mother about the depraved acts Rubiah described that had his father begging for more; the way she’d laughed mockingly and said, ‘If Joe leaves anyone it’ll be the old crone he’s married to’; her shameless smile as she untied the sash of her slinky, satin robe and put her hand on his manhood. ‘Be nice to me,’ she’d said with an insolent smile. ‘After all, we’re going to be family.’

‘Go on,’ said his mother, steely eyed.

A muscle in his face twitched, his mouth twisted and he grunted and coughed to clear his blocked throat. ‘She made me wild,’ he said, his eyelids fluttering furiously. ‘She said father was going to divorce you and then she joked about being my stepmother. I just went crazy. I wasn’t going to let her take your place. You’ve got to understand, I did it for you.’

‘Oh Clarence, what have you done? You’ve ruined us.’

‘It was for you, Mother,’ he gasped between the shuddering sobs that racked his body.

‘Give me my dressing gown, over there on the chair.’

‘You mustn’t get up, Mother, not after one of your turns.’

‘Better to die from a heart attack than live with the shame of disgraced son.’ She looked at Clarence with a contempt she didn’t even try to conceal. ‘But it won’t come to that. This sort of situation is best left to your father to handle.’

‘After Kumang and Guang died, the two rival chiefs met near the mouth of the Pangup. Brokenhearted, the two old enemies wept. They swore over the bodies of their dead children to put a stop to the war and the two tribes lived peacefully ever after,’ said Mei Li softly, blinking back unshed tears; the tragic story still had the power to move her.

Adele knew Mei Li had skipped over parts of the tale but she was too tired to complain, and when her amah leant down and kissed her forehead Adele whispered, ‘I love you.’

‘Me too,’ answered Mei Li, and then she switched off the light.

The long narrow hall was gloomier than Mei Li remembered. The lights in their gilt sconces, subdued and dim, threw eerie shadows on the walls and the plush carpet. She felt the hairs on her neck stand up and her heart started to pound. Why hadn’t she stayed in the car? Why hadn’t she phoned David? She was scared, although she didn’t know why. She paused and fumbled in her pocket. She was holding down the on button on her mobile, a look of desperation on her face, when the lift doors slid open.

‘You were a long time. I was coming to look for you,’ said Clarence. He took the phone from her. He stared at the screen for a moment and handed it back. ‘Your battery’s flat, that’s your problem.’

Mei Li looked back over her shoulder; she was tempted to run back to Adele’s room.

‘Hurry up,’ said Clarence. ‘Mother wants to talk to you before I take you round to David’s. It’s already late. We don’t want to be getting round there at midnight, do we?’

Better get it over with, she thought. She watched the doors
slide shut with a sinking feeling, echoed by the moan of the hydraulics as the lift began its descent. Seconds later it came to a juddering halt and the doors re-opened. Mei Li peered suspiciously into the gloom.

‘What’s going on? What place is this?’ she whispered, shaking uncontrollably, the blood roaring in her ears like the furious beat of a hundred war drums.

‘There’s nothing to be afraid of. Mother suggested we talk down here away from the prying eyes of the servants. C’mon, I don’t want to keep her waiting.’

He gripped Mei Li’s arm tightly, yanking her out of the brightly lit elevator and into the underground cellar. Unlike the blazing ground floor, the basement was lit only by one dim light; the renovations to the building had not continued below ground level. Dark and gloomy, the underground vault looked like it was inhabited by ghosts and demons.

‘I’m over here,’ called Madam Ling.

Mei Li breathed, reassured by the sight of the familiar rotund figure standing in a pool of light, looking wholesome and ordinary in a blue woolly dressing gown and fluffy slippers. But her relief was short lived.

‘You ungrateful girl,’ Madam Ling shrieked. ‘We took you out of the jungle and into our home and this is how you repay us.
Wicked
girl. I trusted you and all the time you were in league with that slut Rubiah.’ She slapped the surprised girl hard with the back of her hand.

‘I’m s-s-sorry,’ cried Mei Li.

‘Not as sorry as you’re going to be. Put her in there until your father gets home.’

Mei Li flailed and struggled as Clarence dragged her into the
disused coalhole now used as a storeroom for ancient, obsolete household equipment, but he was too strong for her.

‘We can’t let you go, you know too much.’ He stood over her as she got to her feet, the blood from her nosebleed dripping unheeded on the stone-flagged floor.

‘You won’t get away with this. David will come look for me,’ yelled Mei Li. ‘Better let me go before you get in more trouble.’

Madam Ling shuffled up in her slippers. ‘That’s where you’re wrong,’ she said. Her voice was weak and shaky as an old woman’s, but her eyes shone with hate.

‘David’s not going to come looking for you here. He thinks you went to meet your mother. At least you got one thing right,’ she told Clarence, peering into the gloom, her small, hard eyes obscured by the swell of her cheeks as her lips stretched in a tight smile. ‘Nobody will ever suspect you killed Rubiah. Tuff will be the one the police go after when her daughter disappears and she’ll get the blame for murdering both of them.’

‘You … it was
you
who killed poor Rubiah,’ cried Mei Li. Gathering herself up, she flew at Clarence like a wild thing, arms flailing, fists flying, kicking and biting, while Clarence just stood there like a zombie, taking her blows without resistance.

‘Don’t just stand there like a lump of wood,’ hissed his mother.

‘I’m sorry,’ he whispered, too quietly for his mother to hear, as his fist contacted with Mei Li’s jaw. She staggered backward, her knees buckled and she collapsed. Just before she lost consciousness, she heard the door slam shut and then the light went out.

‘A
NOTHER BOTTLE OF
K
LUG,’
J
OE SAID TO THE WAITER.
’That all right, darling?’ he asked, just as his mobile rang, the Bollywood tune out of step with the Dralion’s predominantly Chinese clientele.

The tycoon was wining and dining an attractive sassy croupier he’d met through Dai Bin Tan when the disreputable businessman introduced him to Lysander’s, a casino frequented by London’s Chinese mafia. Tan was heavily involved in people trafficking and routinely laundered vast amounts of money through the casino. There were lucrative opportunities for those able to provide illicit smuggling services, and Joe Ling was celebrating his coup at being given the opportunity to set up a ring operating between Miri and Australia, using his timber export business as a cover. This was his chance to move into the big time. No longer a big fish in a small pool, he was a player in an international criminal enterprise, accepted by his Han brothers, and the expectation of massive wealth had helped to ease the pain of his mistress’s death.

Blank faced, Joe listened to the caller. ‘I’ve got to go,’ he said, getting to his feet abruptly. ‘Get a cab.’ He threw some notes on the table and was walking out of the restaurant before his date had time to reply.

Seething with fury, his temper was white hot by the time he confronted his wife and son. Rubiah’s murder had thrown him.
Demanding, impossible and unpredictable, his capricious concubine had always been able to excite him, but he’d discovered that he missed her companionship as much as the sex. Called upon to identify her body, he was shocked when he saw his lovely mistress lying on the blood-soaked bed in her hotel room. She didn’t deserve to die like that, he thought angrily. No stranger to violence, he could see that the feisty little Dayak had put up a fight and had been kicked and punched repeatedly before being overcome by her killer. For her killer to be his dull, lumpish younger son was beyond belief.

‘You twisted bastard! What were you thinking of?’ he shouted, the harsh words booming in the cavernous basement.

Speechless and with terror in his eyes, Clarence flinched at the sound of his father’s angry voice. Ever since he’d been a small boy he’d feared his sadistic father, who seemed to find pleasure in dealing out punishment. The words ‘just wait until your father gets home’ had the power to transform him to a quivering jelly.

As usual, his tongue-tied son’s anxious expression infuriated Joe and he turned to his wife. ‘I always knew no good would come of letting him spend so much time with you. You’ve turned him into a weakling like your drunken brother.’

‘None of this would have happened if you’d left your harlot in Miri,’ sobbed Madam Ling, tears running down her cheeks.

‘Hot tears won’t cook rice,’ sneered her husband, looking at her coldly. ‘Why wouldn’t I bring her? Have you looked in the mirror lately?’

‘Don’t talk to her like that,’ spat Clarence, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. ‘You think you can do anything and say anything you damn well want. Well, I showed you. Did you
think I was just going to stand by and see your tart in my mother’s place, a woman like that, a common prostitute? Yes, I killed her and I’d do it again.’ His small eyes were dark and hard with hatred.