Sherlock Sam and the Missing Heirloom in Katong: book one Read online

  For Faith, Jordan, Timmy, and our parents

  “Just one final tweak here . . .”

  I put the screwdriver down and sat back to admire my robot. Those trips to the Robotics Learning Laboratories at the Science Centre with Dad sure came in useful! Now, what should I name him?

  “Maybe, MEGAMECH! No, no, no. DESTROBOT! No, wait, TECHNODOOM! No, I’ve got it! MEGA-DESTRO-TECHNO-BOT!”

  I flicked the robot’s switch.

  “What-is-my-name?” the robot said in a mechanical voice as it came to life.

  “What, son?” Dad said, popping into my room at exactly the wrong time.

  “My-name-is-Wat-son,” the robot repeated.

  “DAD! What have you done?” I yelled out in horror.

  “What, son? Mom said come and eat. Dinner’s ready,” Dad said.

  “Ooh, dinner! Why didn’t you say so earlier? C’mon . . . Watson,” I said.

  I went to the kitchen and Mom was making chicken rice—one of my favorites!

  “Can I have the drumstick, please?” I asked.

  “Cannot! You’re so chubby already!” my big sister, Wendy, said. Wendy is a year older than me and she is the artist in the family. We get along . . . sometimes. Mostly when she needs help with her Chinese homework.

  “It’s okay. He’s a growing boy.” Dad and I spend a lot of time together. He’s an engineer, and very smart.

  “You can take ONE drumstick, but less rice.” Mom cooks super delicious food all the time, but never gives me enough. I don’t understand why. I’m a growing boy after all.

  I am Sherlock Sam. Well, my real name is Samuel Tan Cher Lock. In case you couldn’t tell, Sherlock Holmes is one of my heroes, and I want to be a great detective, like him!

  “Does the robot need his own plate, Sam?” Mom asked. My family is no longer surprised when my inventions turn up at the dinner table. In fact, some of my earlier creations are used by the family often, like the homing device I created for the TV remote control that Mom is always misplacing.

  “My-name-is-Wat-son,” Watson replied.

  “Watson, would you like to try my chicken rice?” Mom said. Mom stays at home and her job is to take care of all of us. She is a fantastic mom.

  “No-thank-you,” Watson said. “I-only-eat-batteries.”

  “His name is Watson? Clever, Sherlock,” Wendy snickered.

  “Actually, Dad named him,” I mumbled, biting into my drumstick.

  “I did? Clever me! When did I do that?” Dad asked. Dad is super intelligent, but Mom says he is lost in his own world. One time, Mom asked him to buy broccoli and he brought back cauliflower. He thought it was unripe broccoli.

  “Don’t forget we’re going to meet Auntie Kim Lian tomorrow, kids,” Mom said.

  “Can I not go? I always have to look after Cher Lock,” Wendy said.

  “It’s SHER-lock!” I mumbled again, cleaning off my drumstick.

  “Sam, what can Watson do?” Dad asked.

  “Uh . . . can I tell you later? May I have another drumstick, please?” I didn’t want to reveal my master plan in front of Mom.

  After we finished dinner, Dad came to my room. He placed a couple of books on my desk.

  “So, what didn’t you want to say in front of Mom?” he asked.

  I walked over to the door to make sure that it was tightly shut before I spoke. I pulled Dad down to sit with me on the floor.

  “Watson can extend his arms and legs. To reach farther places than you or I can,” I whispered, leaning in close, just to be extra careful.

  “Or higher places, right?” Dad whispered back. See? Dad’s very smart.

  “Yeah, higher places, too.”

  “Sam, just make sure Mom doesn’t catch you.” Dad stood up, then turned around. “And if she does,” he continued in a whisper, “this

  conversation never happened.” We grinned at each other.

  “Right. This conversation never happened,” I said. “So, what books did you get me this time, Dad?”

  Dad immediately beamed. He loves talking about books, especially treasures that he finds at secondhand bookstores.

  “I got you a comic on logic called Logicomix!”

  “Cool! Does it have maths in it?” I asked.

  “Read it and find out,” Dad replied, grinning.

  “And did you get me that other book you promised?” I whispered, turning to check that the door was still closed.

  Dad ruffled my hair and tossed me the book.

  “Remember, this conversation never happened,” he said as he left the room.

  I clutched the new Batman comic happily. Too many people think comics are just fun things that kids read, but comics are so much more! Batman is my hero because he uses his deductive abilities and great intelligence to battle crime! He’s such a great detective; he even stars in Detective Comics!

  Later that night, I took Watson for a test run. We snuck into the darkened kitchen. Watson walked over to where Mom kept her secret tin of Khong Guan biscuits high up in the cupboard, and extended his legs. My favorite biscuit was the double-chocolate biscuit—I made sure Watson knew which one to target first.

  As he was opening the cupboard, we heard Wendy’s door open!

  “Watson!” I whispered. “Hide!”

  “I-knew-this-would-be-trouble,” Watson said.

  “Shush!” I grumbled.

  I slid under the dining table, and Watson retracted his legs while holding on to the cupboard door.

  Wendy walked into the kitchen and went to the refrigerator. Suddenly, she stood up straight. She looked at the cupboard, but Watson had pulled himself into the cupboard before he could be seen. That was close!

  Wendy shrugged and poured herself a cup of water. After her bedroom door closed, I breathed a sigh of relief.

  “Watson,” I called softly. “Where are you?”

  He opened the cupboard door and extended his legs down to the floor. We quickly snuck back to my room.

  “Watson, pass me the biscuits, please,” I whispered.

  “You-have-already-eaten-two-drumsticks. Why-are-you-still-hungry?” Watson questioned.

  “Shush!” I replied.

  Watson pressed a small button located at his stomach. A secret storage space opened and inside were my favorite double-chocolate biscuits! I didn’t tell Dad about the secret compartment. The less he knew, the less Mom could torture out of him. Munching happily on my biscuits, I patted Watson on his metal head. I was starting to like this new invention of mine. We were going to be good buddies, I could tell.

  “Do-not-get-crumbs-on-the-bed.I-do-not-want-ants-in-my-circuits,” Watson said.

  Then again, maybe not.

  I woke up covered in double-chocolate crumbs.

  “Oh no! I hear Mom coming!” I jumped out of bed and started sliding the crumbs under the bed. “Watson, help me!” I said.

  I could tell Watson was not a willing accomplice—I had to keep poking him to hurry. It was almost as if he wanted to get me in trouble just so he could say, “I-told-you-so.” Before I knew it, Mom was standing at my door.

  “Sam, are you ready? It’s Saturday! We are having breakfast with Jimmy and Auntie Kim Lian at Chin Mee Chin, remember?”

  “Of course I do!” I said, kicking the last crumb beneath the bed. I love eating breakfast at Chin Mee Chin Confectionery. It is my favorite place in Katong, but Mom says I can’t go too often.


  The little bakery along East Coast Road was very crowded. Jimmy and his grandma, Auntie Kim Lian, were already there and had saved us seats. Auntie Kim Lian is Peranakan, like Mom, and her family has lived in Katong for generations. Jimmy is a friend from class, and I noticed he was holding a library copy of one of my favorite books, Charlie and the Chocolate Factory.

  Chin Mee Chin is special to Mom because the bakery still looks like it did in the old photographs her family had taken when she was a little girl.

  “Hello, Auntie Kim Lian. Hello, Jimmy. I would like two slices of kaya toast with extra butter and extra kaya, please,” I quickly recited. Jimmy’s eyes widened when Watson sat down next to him.

  “Slow down, Sam, the rest of us haven’t decided what we want yet,” Mom said.

  I was busy analyzing the cream cones lined up neatly in the display case. I immediately noticed that they were not all of the same length and width.

  “I would also like one cream cone, the third one in the second row, please,” I continued.

  “Sam, introduce Watson to Jimmy,” Mom nudged.

  “Watson, introduce yourself to Jimmy,” I said, distracted by the new tray of piping hot cupcakes that had just come from the kitchen.

  “Hello-Jimmy. My-name-is-Wat-son,” Watson said.

  “Wow! I’m Jimmy!” Jimmy replied.

  “I’d also like one of the plain butter cupcakes covered in sprinkles. The fifth one in the third row,” I quickly added.

  I was trying to decide if I should have a Milo, too, when I heard two nicely dressed ladies next to us talking about a Peranakan restaurant that everyone seemed to be going to recently. I made a mental note to tell Mom to head there for lunch. I really wanted to place our orders before that big cream cone was snapped up!

  “Mom!” I said impatiently.

  “Yes, Sam?” Mom replied.

  “Are we going to order yet?” I asked. I told Mom what I wanted.

  “Oh boy, Cher Lock, you’re going to make yourself sick,” Wendy said.

  “Mom! Do you remember what I want?” I poked her, ignoring Wendy.

  “Yes, dear. Third one in the second row; fifth one in the third row; two kaya toast, extra butter and extra kaya; and a cup of Milo.” From the expression on Mom’s face, I knew I shouldn’t bring lunch up yet. Mom called to the shop auntie to place our orders.

  Jimmy kept staring at Watson. He looked him over from every angle while Watson stared at the strange little boy who walked circles around him. Then Jimmy poked Watson.

  “Please-do-not-poke-me,” Watson said.

  “You can complain?” Jimmy asked, surprised.

  “Of-course. Everyone-can-complain,” Watson replied.

  “Wow! What else can you do?” Jimmy asked.

  “I-am-not-at-liberty-to-discuss-what-I-can-do,” Watson said.

  I frowned at Watson. Now he had made his abilities sound all mysterious!

  “Aiyoh, Samuel, you are such a handsome boy,” Auntie Kim Lian said, her hands cupping my face and squishing it.

  “Gank you Ang-tee,” I struggled to reply. I don’t understand why people are always squishing my face. Dad says it is because I am handsome. But I would rather be tall than handsome.

  “Do you want to come over to Auntie’s house later? I am thinking of making your favorite ayam buah keluak.”

  Of course I did! Auntie Kim Lian’s ayam buah keluak is legendary! Her chicken is tender, but not too mushy, and her delicious gravy is perfect for pouring all over a plate of warm, fragrant rice. Plus, she never stops me from getting second, or even third, helpings, like Mom does.

  But first, I had to make sure that it would be safe. Auntie Kim Lian can be forgetful sometimes.

  “Auntie Kim Lian, have you soaked the buah keluak long enough? Those nuts can be poisonous if you don’t soak them in water for at least a week, you know!” I said.

  “Poisonous?!” Jimmy yelled. “My mama would never poison anyone!”

  A sudden hush fell over Chin Mee Chin.

  Auntie Kim Lian laughed, breaking the tension. “Of course I’ve soaked them long enough! I’ve been cooking ayam buah keluak since before you were born, Samuel!”

  “Auntie Kim Lian has been cooking ayam buah keluak since before I was born!” Mom said.

  Just then, a young man came up to our table.

  “Hello, Auntie Kim Lian! Nice to see you here. I wanted to thank you for your help that day! I couldn’t have finished my project without your precious family recipe book,” he said.

  “Oh, hello, dear,” Auntie Kim Lian replied, smiling. “It was no problem at all. Your mom is my good friend; of course I will help her son.”

  “Next time, Auntie will cook for me, right?”

  Auntie Kim Lian laughed and agreed. Everyone wanted Auntie Kim Lian to cook for them! But today, she was going to cook for me!

  “Mom! Can we go eat ayam buah keluak? Please?” I asked hopefully.

  “Yes, Auntie!” Jimmy said. “I want Watson to come over and play! Can they come over right now instead of only at dinner?” Watson does not play, I wanted to say, but I decided that Jimmy’s reason would only help my cause.

  “I don’t want to cause you trouble or anything,” Mom said.

  “No, it’s okay,” Auntie Kim Lian replied. “I will cook dinner tonight, and you can bring your husband. We’ll have a feast!”

  “Well . . . when you put it that way, how can I say no? Kids, don’t cause Auntie Kim Lian too much trouble! Dad and I will come later,” Mom said. “Thank you for the invitation, Auntie Kim Lian. And Wendy, take care of your brother, okay?”

  “Every time,” Wendy said, exasperated. She then whispered to me, “You owe me help with my Chinese homework for this!”

  I shrugged, munching happily on my cream cone.

  With breakfast out of the way, I was ready to focus my full attention on the feast Auntie Kim Lian promised us. Mom asked if Auntie Kim Lian could serve healthy tuna sandwiches for lunch. Tuna wasn’t of particular interest to me, not when there was ayam buah keluak for dinner!

  “Is your ayam buah keluak recipe from the precious family recipe book the uncle was talking about, Auntie?” I asked.

  Auntie Kim Lian was driving and we were all squished into her car. Wendy was in front, and Jimmy, Watson, and I were huddled in the back.

  “Yes it is, Samuel. My family recipe book is so precious to me, I consider it a family heirloom!” Auntie Kim Lian replied.

  “Wow,” Wendy said. “Has it been in your family for long?”

  “Let’s see. This recipe book has been in my family for many generations. Even before my grandparents came to Singapore from Malacca,” Auntie Kim Lian replied.

  “Does that mean that the recipes came from way back then as well?” Wendy asked.

  “Yes, dear, from my Mak Cho,” Auntie Kim Lian said.

  “My great-great-great-great-great—wait, how many greats is that?” puzzled Jimmy, staring at his fingers in confusion.

  “What’s a Mak Cho?” Wendy asked.

  “It’s a great-grandmother,” I answered. “Our Mama’s mom is our Mak Cho.”

  “My Mak Cho started writing her home-cooked recipes when she married my Kong Cho. It was very important for Peranakan women to learn to cook well for their husbands back then,” Auntie Kim Lian continued.

  “Wendy would have made a terrible Peranakan wife back in the olden days,” I said.

  “Shush, Cher Lock,” Wendy shot back.

  “It’s SHER-lock!” I poked her.

  “I would be lost without my family recipe book. And I want to hand it down to my grandchildren and their children,” Auntie Kim Lian said as she parked the car. “I’ve even been teaching Jimmy how to cook ayam buah keluak!”

  We had arrived at her two-story bungalow with a big garden.<
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  “Girls! Gina! We’re home! We’ve brought friends!” Auntie Kim Lian said.

  “How many sisters do you have, Jimmy?” I whispered.

  “Four!” Jimmy replied. “Auntie Gina is our family helper.”

  I made a face. One sister was bad enough. I could not imagine living with four!

  Auntie Gina came up and handed Auntie Kim Lian a letter, which she squinted at until Auntie Gina passed Auntie Kim Lian her reading glasses.

  “Mam, you forgot to bring your glasses out again,” Auntie Gina said.

  “I’m so forgetful nowadays, Gina. You must look after me, okay? I can’t read anything without my reading glasses,” Auntie Kim Lian said, laughing. She put the letter down on a nearby table.

  Just then, I saw four girls running toward us. I took cover behind Auntie Kim Lian. Four sisters! Amazing!

  “What did you get us? Did you get cream cones? I want kaya toast!” they all shouted at once.

  Auntie Kim Lian laughed and called them each by name to come and take their goodies from Jimmy.

  Based on height and level of bossiness, I deduced that the oldest was Rose, the second oldest was Martha, next was Donna, and the youngest was Amy.

  The girls grabbed their snacks and went to the kitchen.

  “Auntie, are you going to start cooking now?” I asked innocently.

  “Yes, dear. As soon as I take out my recipe book. I don’t cook ayam buah keluak very often because good buah keluak is hard to find. I’ve forgotten some of the steps. Auntie is old already, you know,” Auntie Kim Lian said, smiling.

  I followed Auntie Kim Lian into her enormous kitchen, where Jimmy’s sisters were eating their snacks, and she went to a drawer to take her cookbook out. I was amazed to see that she had two fridges! I wondered if one was especially for desserts.

  Auntie Kim Lian suddenly called out, “Gina! I can’t find my recipe book! Is it in the living room?”