Sherlock Sam and the Seafaring Scourge on Sentosa Read online

  “As I have told you numerous times, Mr Lee, my name is Limin. Cheng Limin,” the lawyer replied. It was the same lawyer we had met during our last case. She looked imposing dressed in a creaseless, charcoal-grey business suit. She had cut her hair since we last saw her, and her new shoulder-length hair framed her stern demeanour. She was also wearing a pair of square-framed, red spectacles.

  “Her eyeliner game is spot on,” Eliza murmured.

  “Limin, Lemon. It’s all the same to me.” Mr Lee waved his hand dismissively. “But as I am paying you by the hour, I expect you to be on time.”

  Ms Cheng’s mouth twisted, but she remained silent. She placed the briefcase she was carrying on the table next to her. I heard her exhale a slow, controlled breath.

  “I am here at the behest of Mr Lee to observe and document his interview with Watson Tan the Robot from The Wonderful Watson Online Detective Agency,” Ms Cheng said. She raised a perfectly arched eyebrow in Watson’s direction. “I presume you are the robot in question.”

  “I-am-Wat-son. But-I-work-with-a-team-of-detectives-who-are-also-present,” he replied.

  “Wait a minute,” Officer Siva interrupted. “They are children, and you will not speak to them unless I give you”—he turned to Mr Lee—“and you, permission.”

  “Are you here in a professional or personal capacity, Superintendent?” Ms Cheng narrowed her eyes. “I did not think flip-flops were part of the standard issue uniform of the Singapore Police Force.”

  We looked down. Officer Siva was, in fact, wearing a pair of purple flip-flops. I couldn’t believe I hadn’t noticed earlier.

  He lifted a hand sheepishly to his head. “It was a quiet day, and I like to wear flip-flops in the office. Then when I got your call, Sherlock, I rushed out and forgot to change.”

  “See, Ms Cheng?” Mr Lee interrupted. “Here’s a man who understands the value of my time.”

  “Actually, I was more concerned about the children than I was about you, Mr Lee,” Officer Siva replied. “But to answer your question, Ms Cheng, since Mr Lee hasn’t made an official report, and I’m presuming since he emailed Watson instead of calling the police, I’m here in an unofficial capacity. You could say, I’m here as a Supper Club member.” Officer Siva smiled, his dark eyes twinkling.

  I turned to my friends and saw almost identical grins on their faces—even Eliza, who had been more reserved today than usual. Jimmy was giggling.

  “And with Pirates Inc. involved—” I said.

  “Don’t mention that name to me!” Mr Lee yelled, slamming his hand down on an ornate mother-of-pearl table next to him. He immediately winced and clutched his hand.

  “How are we going to discuss a case involving Pirates Inc. if we don’t use their name, Sherlock?” Jimmy asked, looking at me.

  Ms Cheng sighed audibly. She reached into her briefcase and took out a small white card. It was folded in half and looked about the size of my palm. Printed on the front of the card was a plain flag with the letters P and I on it. It was in black and white.

  “You don’t need to worry about fingerprints,” she said. “I already had my office investigators test it and other than mine—because I found it—there were none.”

  “Wow, that’s really thick paper,” Wendy said. I could hear the admiration in her voice. “It’s at least 350gsm.”

  “G-S-what?” Mr Lee asked, still holding on to his hand.

  “Grams per square metre,” my sister replied. “The higher the gsm, the heavier the paper. Basically, it tells you how thick the paper is. The thicker it is, the more expensive it is.”

  “I see. I’m sure Pirates Inc. left me the most expensive paper given my reputation for only collecting the best.”

  “That makes no sense,” Eliza snarked.

  I held my hand out. “May I see it, Ms Cheng?”

  She hesitated for a moment before handing it over to me. Wendy immediately came over to stand beside me. I knew my sister; she really wanted to touch the paper. I took a quick look and passed it to her.

  “Hmm. I was right, Sam. It is really high-quality paper,” Wendy said, her fingers stroking the card reverently. “And see how the letters P and I are slightly raised? They’re embossed. That’s expensive too.”

  I touched the letters and felt they were indeed bumpier than the rest of the card. Wendy reluctantly handed the card over to Watson, who peered at it closely with his one eye.

  “This-must-be-the-famous-calling-card-Pirates-Inc.-leaves-when-they-commit-a-crime.”

  “Only the best for me, I always say,” Mr Lee added, looking extremely smug.

  Eliza shook her head. “Really. Listen to yourself. You’re not making any sense.”

  “And you are being very rude, young lady,” Mr Lee huffed. “I will not be spoken to in this manner.”

  “Perhaps-we-can-get-back-to-the-case,” Watson said. “In-the-email-you-said-Pirates-Inc.-had-stolen-items-from-your-collection. May-we-see-where-they-were-stolen-from?”

  Mr Lee suddenly looked uncomfortable. He tugged at his collar. “Do you have to?”

  I caught Watson’s eye and nodded slightly.

  “Yes. It-is-standard-operating-procedure-to-investigate-the-crime-scene,” my robot added.

  Ms Cheng cleared her throat and reached once again into her briefcase. She extracted a sheet of paper and handed it to Watson. “As you can see, I’ve documented all the missing items as well as their dollar value.”

  “We still have to take a look at the scene of the crime,” I said. “And it would have been better if you hadn’t removed the calling card from its original position. Also, you should have left the fingerprint testing to the police.”

  Ms Cheng looked affronted. “Are you even old enough to be investigating this case?” She turned to Officer Siva. “I cannot believe you allow this, Superintendent.”

  “Hey. Don’t look at me. Mr Lee was the one who hired Watson and the Supper Club,” Officer Siva replied. He beamed, looking awfully pleased with himself.

  “I will have to blindfold all of you before I lead you to my secret vault,” Mr Lee announced.

  “What? No way,” Nazhar said.

  “Yah!” Wendy exclaimed, pointing at Mr Lee. “You’re not going to blindfold us!”

  Mr Lee looked at his lawyer, who exhaled heavily once again. She nodded slightly.

  “But—” he spluttered.

  “I will lead the way,” Ms Cheng said briskly. Her phone suddenly rang. The ringtone was a song I’d never heard before. She quickly hit the Cancel button.

  “Was that ‘Vincent’ by Don McLean?” Wendy asked.

  Ms Cheng’s eyebrows lifted in surprise. “Yes, yes, it is. I’m surprised anyone of your age knows this song.”

  “Vincent van Gogh is one of my favourite artists,” Wendy said. “I love his Sunflowers. The yellows are amazing in that painting.”

  Ms Cheng smiled slightly. “He was a great artist.”

  We followed her through the mansion until we reached a basement area that was darker than the rest of the house. The walls were lined with deep shelves which were stocked with groceries, toilet rolls and numerous tins of Milo. Mr Lee grumped and grumbled the entire way.

  “Do you like Milo too, Mr Lee?” Jimmy peered up at the much taller man. Mr Lee looked distinctly uncomfortable but nodded.

  Ms Cheng strode forward and shifted one of the Milo tins aside to reveal a familiar, fancy-looking touchpad.

  “The-touchpad-is-identical-to-the-one-at-the-main-door,” Watson noted.

  Ms Cheng nodded. “Yes, but this one is a lot more secure than the one outside.”

  She tapped a series of eight digits, and the shelf on the right suddenly slid open. The items on it jiggled about as it moved, but the shelf was deep enough that nothing fell off.

  Ms Cheng stood in front of the newly revealed entrance. The lights inside automatically turned on.

  Beyond the shelf was a large room that looked mostly empty. There were a few cartons, some wooden cra
tes and one odd-looking pile of styrofoam in the corner, but nothing else. I assumed all the cartons and crates were now empty because of Pirates Inc. The air smelled as artificially fragrant as the living room, if a little bit muskier and more humid.

  Ms Cheng crossed her arms. “As you can see, no one can enter the vault without a passcode.”

  “But someone could have stolen the passcode,” Nazhar replied.

  Mr Lee snorted. “Please. It’s changed every hour on the hour. Only the best system for me, I say.”

  “Even then, it’s possible someone could have figured it out.” I squinted at the glossy touchpad. I could see the markings that Ms Cheng’s fingers had left.

  “I wipe it down immediately after I use it,” she said, without any prompting. “Always.” She took a pale green handkerchief out of her briefcase and wiped the touchpad clean.

  “And only the two of us know the password,” Mr Lee added. “The expensive system I pay for sends a new passcode every hour to us only. By text. And it’s not a person sending it but a highly sophisticated computer that does all the calculations without human input. And the passcode isn’t even sent in the right sequence. We have to switch the third and—”

  Ms Cheng coughed. “Yes, but clearly someone managed to break in. As I have said repeatedly, Mr Lee, no system, no matter how expensive, is infallible. Pirates Inc. must have cracked the code somehow. And we were both out of the country for over a week. They must have found out and planned it such that they could remove the items from the house unnoticed. We have no idea exactly when it happened.

  “You only realised things were missing when you came home this morning, Mr Lee. And it doesn’t help that your housekeeper could sleep through a tornado. Pirates Inc. could have burgled your entire house and she would have snored through it.”

  I thought it was interesting she knew that particular fact about the scary housekeeper. It wasn’t something an ordinary lawyer would know, but then again, Ms Cheng was anything but ordinary if she’s managed to put up with Mr Lee for such a long time.

  “But no one except Lemon and I know how to decipher the text messages we receive. Because I pay for the premium plan and service,” Mr Lee insisted.

  “It-might-be-possible-to-brute-force-the-password,” Watson said. He was looking closely at the keypad as well. “I-have-done-it-before-and-I-could-do-it-again-as-I-mentioned-earlier.”

  Mr Lee scoffed. “Impossible. One wrong entry and the alarm system goes off.”

  “Maybe someone dug a tunnel under the room and entered that way!” Jimmy said. “I saw it on television!”

  “Er, that would be quite a feat, Jimmy,” Officer Siva said, smiling. But then he turned to Mr Lee and asked, “You have checked for tunnels, though…right?”

  “Me? Do my own work? I think not,” the older man scoffed. “Ms Cheng? Did you check for tunnels?”

  She sighed loudly, not even bothering to hide it this time. “No tunnels. The vault—yes, that’s what Mr Lee insists on calling it—is underwater. Even if someone could dig a tunnel, the entire room would flood.”

  Something tickled my brain. “So what you’re saying is there’s only one way in and out of the room. And the only two people who could possibly enter are the two of you.”

  “Obviously,” Mr Lee said. “Am I paying you to come to the obvious conclusion? Why isn’t the robot doing the work? Hey! Robot! Why aren’t you the one investigating?”

  I could hear Watson’s circuits whirling furiously.

  “Obviously...” I whispered to myself. “The obvious.”

  I met Watson’s eye.

  “Occam’s-Razor,” my robot said.

  “Elementary, my dear Watson,” I replied with a grin. “You are absolutely right.”

  “What?” Mr Lee asked. “What about a razor?”

  “The simplest solution is often the correct one,” I said. “If, as you say, only you and Ms Cheng are the only ones ever to see the passcode, and the passcode randomly changes every hour, then one of you has to be the thief.”

  Mr Lee seemed to turn slightly purple as he tried to speak. He finally managed to say, “Preposterous! Why would I steal what already belongs to me?!”

  “I’d like to remind you,” Ms Cheng added, “we were both out of the country until this morning, when Mr Lee discovered the theft.”

  “I-am-certain-Mr-Lee-did-not-steal-his-own-property,” Watson said.

  “Then it must be the Lemon!” Jimmy said.

  Ms Cheng bristled. “I believe this interview is over.”

  “Ms Cheng,” Officer Siva crossed his arms. “I think it’s best if you continue cooperating.”

  “I disagree,” Ms Cheng said. “Anything I could say to you is protected by attorney–client privilege. I’ll need to speak to Mr Lee privately before we can continue. I will call you when we’re ready to do so.”

  Mr Lee narrowed his eyes. “Why are you suddenly hiding behind attorney–client privilege?”

  She sighed the loudest she’d sighed so far. “I am not hiding, Mr Lee, and we really should continue this conversation in pri—”

  “I waive my attorney–client privilege!” Mr Lee suddenly shouted.

  We were all surprised.

  “In that case, Ms Cheng, I think you should accompany me to—”

  Officer Siva paused in mid-sentence after Ms Cheng lifted her hand to stop him.

  “Are you certain, Mr Lee?” she asked.

  “Yes! Where are my treasures, you traitor?!”

  “If you waive attorney–client privilege, then I won’t have to keep any of your secrets anymore. Like the time you used insider information to buy certain stocks, or the time you bought property you knew had been stolen, or the time—”

  “I don’t waive my attorney–client privilege!” Mr Lee suddenly shouted. “Forget everything you just heard! I mean, at the suggestion of my lawyer, I will never, I mean, I will neither deny nor confirm, I mean, I will deny to confirm or—what was I supposed to say again?” He threw Ms Cheng a desperate look.

  “Oh, it’s too late for that, Mr Lee,” Officer Siva said, smiling. “And it’s too late for you, Ms Cheng. You’ve implicated yourself as well.”

  Ms Cheng removed her glasses and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Fine,” she said. “Someone from Pirates Inc. contacted me and offered an enormous sum of money to give them the passcode for a certain day and time while we were away. As I’m sure you already know, and as I will detail extensively for you, Superintendent, Charles Lee is a terrible person, so I said yes. I am, of course, unhappy I was found out so quickly, but I take solace in the fact that I will be able to take you down with me, Charles.”

  The sudden admission surprised even me. Could we truly have solved this case so quickly?

  “That was a lot faster than usual,” Nazhar said.

  “That’s because Sherlock is Singapore’s Greatest—”

  “Not so fast, my young friend!” the odd-looking pile of styrofoam in the corner said, interrupting Jimmy. “We are not done investigating!”

  “Hantu!” Mr Lee just about jumped 10 metres in the air.

  The strange pile of styrofoam suddenly stood up and walked towards us. With its styrofoam arm it removed a large piece from the top, revealing Inspector Lestrade’s face.

  “This case is much bigger than just one thief!”

  Corporal Boey’s grumpiness level was at 100% when she arrived.

  “Why do you do this to me, Superintendent?” she groaned.

  “Because I know how much you like the children,” Officer Siva answered with an innocent grin that looked suspiciously like it was trying not to turn into a smirk.

  After her unexpected confession, Ms Cheng had refused to answer any more questions. Officer Siva asked Mr Lee if he would like to file a police report and Mr Lee very loudly agreed. Given that it was now an official police case, Officer Siva called it in and requested Corporal Boey to take over from him at Sentosa Cove. He told us he would escort Ms Cheng to the Sen
tosa Ranger Station for further questioning.

  Corporal Boey became even more aggrieved when she spotted Mr Lee sitting on his throne, mumbling to himself about confirming and denying things.

  “Is that...is that a throne?” Corporal Boey pointed at the golden monstrosity as she glared at Officer Siva. “Am I supposed to interview him while he’s sitting on a throne?!”

  I thought it was best to leave the two police officers to confer and turned to the pile of styrofoam.

  “Why are you here, Inspector Lestrade?” Not that I wasn’t glad to see her, but the Inspector was usually only involved in our international cases, and Sentosa was not overseas. “And how did you get inside the locked vault?” Mr Lee had been furious and was threatening to sue the security company.

  Inspector Lestrade whipped out her mobile phone and tapped it a few times before showing me the screen. Watson walked over to take a closer look as well. “It’s a new INTERPOL app. It can break any code in seconds. I don’t actually know how it works, but it does!” she said.

  “That-is-interesting. I-would-like-to-discuss-this-app-in-further detail,” Watson replied. I thought I saw a sparkle in his one eye, but just as quickly, it vanished.

  “I’m sorry, who are you again?” Corporal Boey asked, suddenly appearing next to me and giving Inspector Lestrade a sharp look.

  I spotted Officer Siva hurrying off with Ms Cheng. When he caught my eye, he gave me a thumbs up. If I didn’t know any better, I would have suspected he was happy to escape Corporal Boey’s wrath. The rest of us were not so fortunate.

  “Hello! I am Inspector Geneviève Lestrade from INTERPOL, but you may call me Geneviève! Very nice to meet another fine police officer from Singapore!”

  Inspector Lestrade extended her styrofoam-bedecked right arm and tried to shake Corporal Boey’s hand.

  Corporal Boey appeared quite reluctant to return the Inspector’s rather enthusiastic greeting. “I’m Corporal Boey Meihan. You can call me Corporal Boey. Inspector, why are you dressed like…that?”

  “I do not understand. I was undercover?” Inspector Lestrade said with a tilt of her head.