Sherlock Sam and the Digital Detectives on Instanoodlegram Read online

  “Before-we-start-talking-about-food-again-which-usually-lasts-for-an-hour-perhaps-we-could-discuss-the-case-first.”

  Everyone looked a little chagrined. I loved the emotions function our avatars had. I didn’t know a chicken wing could look so much like me, but it did. It was uncanny. It had captured my essence. Not that I was Chicken Essence. That was something entirely different and did not involve capturing the soul of a chicken, in case anyone was wondering.

  Unfortunately, no one had anything new to report. Like in Singapore, TeaMe was facing a lot of backlash in Mexico and Japan, as well as other international locations. Their stores were temporarily closed, according to Luis and Chihiyo. People were protesting on Instanoodlegram, and users had created lots of digital stickers condemning the brand. However, what did not exist was any proper evidence—only speculation and opinions. Watson had scanned through some of the documents and shared them with Luis, Chihiyo and two other overseas friends, but they hadn’t found anything either.

  “I’m sorry, guys,” Udon-Chihiyo said with a sigh. “I have to do homework now, but I’ll keep investigating.”

  “I have to get ready for school,” Tamale-Luis added, stretching his arms above his head. “Can we meet a little later next week? Waking up at 6am is making me really sleepy in class.”

  We agreed to meet an hour later next time: 8pm, Singapore time; 9pm, Tokyo time; and 7am, Mexico City time. Luis and Chihiyo logged off, as did Jimmy and Nazhar, who said they also had homework to finish and would see us in school tomorrow.

  “I’m not really sure how we can help Inspector Lestrade without being there to investigate in person, Sam,” Bubble Tea-Wendy said. “There’s just too much noise online, and it’s hard to tell what’s fake and what’s not.”

  “I know. And constantly researching bubble tea just makes me want to drink more bubble tea, but—”

  Suddenly a doorbell sounded, and a text box appeared at the top of our screens. It was a request to enter the private virtual space.

  “No way,” Bubble Tea-Wendy whispered, her hands flying to her mouth.

  Super Battery-Watson immediately extended his long arm, reached up and clicked on the YES button.

  The last empty stand in our town was finally open for business. A piping hot bowl of devil’s curry with arms and legs appeared next to our avatars.

  “Hi, guys,” Devil’s Curry-Eliza said, steam wafting around her. “Is the Wonderful Watson’s Online Detective Agency accepting new cases?”

  “Is that really you, Eliza?” Bubble Tea-Wendy asked, her hands pressed against her cup face in shock. “How are you?! Why haven’t you—”

  “Wait-a-moment. Let-us-switch-to-video-call-on-LunchBox,” Super Battery-Watson said.

  I knew what he was thinking. It had been so long since Eliza had contacted us, and he wanted to make sure it was really her and not someone impersonating her avatar. It was always important to be extra careful when we were online, especially when Mom and Dad weren’t home.

  SnackTown vanished and was replaced by the LunchBox video-call function. All our faces appeared in small lunch boxes on the screen.

  It really was Eliza.

  But something was definitely wrong. Horribly, horribly wrong.

  Wendy gasped, her hands flying to her mouth.

  “Your-your...” Watson trailed off. I had never heard him hesitate like that before. His single eye went huge. “Eliza’s-hair-is-not-neat.”

  “What have they done to you?” my sister said, her voice muffled behind her hand.

  “Calm down, everyone,” I said. “Let Eliza speak.”

  Eliza’s neat hair was just as legendary as Wendy’s bad Mandarin. We had been through so many cases together—she had been over hills and under water and battled against high humidity levels—but her hair, in its twin braids, was almost always perfect. There was that one time during the Case of the Mysterious Mastermind in Seoul when a single braid had come slightly undone, but otherwise, she literally never had a hair out of place. It was her superpower.

  “No! If Eliza wants to have messy hair, she should be allowed to have messy hair! Girls don’t need to conform to ridiculous gender expectations!” Wendy shouted, springing up and waving her fist in the air (I assumed; I couldn’t actually see anything above her stomach since the camera didn’t move with her). “I support you, Eliza! Down with combs! Be free, flyaway hair! Be free!”

  On-screen, Eliza stared at us silently, her face expressionless. It was how she usually looked before she scolded us for being ridiculous.

  I quickly added. “Yes, erm, be free, hair!” I reached up and mussed up my own hair. I wanted to be there for our friend any way I could. I never really liked combs anyway.

  “I-have-very-little-experience-with-hair-but-you-have-my-support-too,” Watson added. He extended his arm from our room to the kitchen and messed up my hair even more.

  Eliza snorted, her lips finally lifting in a small, tired-looking smile. “I missed you guys,” she said.

  Wendy’s eyes immediately filled with tears.

  “We-missed-you-too,” Watson replied. Wendy rubbed her eyes and sniffed, nodding.

  “Why didn’t you contact us for so long, Eliza?” I asked. I had really important information to relay. “Remember how we used to order kway teow mee and got confused as to why we would get white and yellow noodles, and not just white noodles? I’ve discovered why! I messaged you about it! Mee means yellow noodles! Mystery solved! And Jimmy and Nazhar just left the chat. I’ll get them back. They’ll want to talk to you too!”

  “No, wait, don’t,” Eliza said. She quickly turned to look behind her, then spun back towards the screen. “I don’t have a lot of time. I need to tell you guys—”

  Wendy interrupted. “Is your new boarding school awesome? Is it like Hogwarts? Do you have to speak Mandarin all the time? No, wait, you said before your classes were in English, right? Are your new friends—”

  “Everything’s great, Wendy,” Eliza said with a shrug. “Everything’s cool. The weather is awesome too. I actually like being away from my parents. It’s much more peaceful.”

  I thought Eliza’s voice sounded a little strange, but it was possible my ears had not yet recovered from Wendy’s ear-piercing art session that morning. She was still in her school uniform, complete with her name tag, which read Eliza Oliveiro-Woodford.

  “Did you receive Inspector Lestrade’s messages?” I asked. “She’s been trying to contact you.”

  Something shifted in Eliza’s eyes. She leaned forward. “Inspector Lestrade? Why would she be trying to contact me?”

  “Because—” I said.

  “No, that’s perfect...” Eliza clapped her hands together, leaning back. She looked lost in thought, her eyes focused on something off-screen that we couldn’t see. Almost as if she had forgotten we were there.

  “She can help us with my case...” Eliza muttered, almost too soft for us to catch.

  “With-the-case? TeaMe?” Watson asked.

  Eliza straightened in her seat. “Tea you? What?”

  “Are you already investigating TeaMe?” I asked, confused. Our friend was a crack investigator and knew how we operated, so it wasn’t out of the realm of possibility she would have picked up on the exact same case, even if the Inspector hadn’t gotten in touch with her. Or had she? Sometimes Inspector Lestrade was so inconspicuously conspicuous we didn’t know what was going on with her.

  Eliza frowned. “What are you guys talking about?”

  We quickly updated her on what had been happening with the TeaMe case, and how the Inspector had been working with us to figure out if any wrongdoing had occurred on the bubble tea company’s part. But the more we talked, the more impatient our friend seemed.

  “I really wanted to win first prize in the kids’ category, but Sam, Watson, Nazhar and Jimmy were also going to enter because maybe they could win the merit prize! They said if they did, they’d pass me the Jill Su merch!” my sister said.

  I
nodded. It was the least we could do for Wendy. Plus, it was actually really fun to do something out of my usual repertoire for once. I had never really tried painting before. There was a science to mixing colours and trying to work out proportions and angles. It was fascinating.

  “I thought if we won the Jill Su prize, I’d mail it to you.” Wendy was looking down and not at the screen. But she looked up now. “I know how much you like her.”

  “That’s exactly what I want to talk to you guys about!” For the first time since she appeared on-screen, Eliza looked excited and so much more like how she used to look when we were investigating cases together.

  “The TeaMe contest? Did you discover evidence of their wrongdoing via the contest?” I asked.

  Eliza’s forehead wrinkled, and she looked irritated. “No. Listen to me. I keep trying to tell you guys something, but you keep interrupting me. I don’t care about TeaMe. Whatever. That’s not important.”

  The moment she said that, Wendy frowned.

  “Then what case are you talking about, Eliza?” I asked.

  “Jill Su is in trouble,” Eliza said, her eyes sharp and focused. “And I have evidence.”

  “Eh, what?” Wendy blinked. “I—I just saw her latest video.”

  “Yes, but it’s pre-recorded. Everyone knows that,” Eliza replied, crossing her arms.

  “But she was on the live chat and seemed fine,” Wendy added, scratching her forehead.

  Eliza made a soft sound of impatience. “It could have been anyone replying on the chat. And, no, she wasn’t fine.”

  “I’m not as familiar with her work as you guys, but I know she has a huge fan base, and no one has indicated that anything is wrong. Right, Wendy?” I said.

  My sister hesitated a moment before nodding.

  “It’s so obvious, guys,” Eliza replied. “You’re just not paying close enough attention. I have. I watch her every day. I know her. Her more recent videos and chats have been very weird. I think—I think she’s being blackmailed.”

  “Eliza...” my sister said. She was biting on a thumbnail, something she only did when she was feeling stressed.

  “Did-you-share-this-suspicion-with-anyone-else?” Watson asked.

  Eliza flicked a not-completely-neat pigtail behind a shoulder. “Of course not. Why would I? No one here cares about things like this.” She paused abruptly. “I mean, they ask me all the time about what I used to do with you guys back in Singapore, but none of them are actual detectives, you know? Not like us.”

  “Maybe you can tell us why you think she’s in trouble or being blackmailed?” I asked. I realised I should not discount what Eliza had to say before she explained her rationale. The Eliza I knew always operated on facts. Perhaps she had observed something no one else saw. It wouldn’t be the first time.

  “Well, everyone knows Jill is a huge advocate of social justice, right? And that she hates online bullying and trolling?”

  Wendy nodded. Watson and I didn’t know enough to comment.

  “But the last couple of weeks, the way she has been talking about issues in the gaming industry has been so different. She keeps trying to make excuses for bad behaviour. This TeaMe thing is a perfect example, actually. Before, she would have been angry. She would have talked about how terrible they were, and how they had lied to get her to donate prizes for their contest. Instead, when anyone asks about it, she says we shouldn’t be too harsh and quick to judge.”

  “I saw those videos too,” Wendy replied. “But I just thought she wanted to present two sides to the story after she’d calmed down. I didn’t think—”

  “No, she never did that before! She always, always, sides with the victims! Someone has to be making her say these things.”

  Wendy scratched her head. “But—”

  “Do-your-school-friends-also-think-there-is-something-strange-about-Jill-Su’s-behaviour?” Watson asked.

  Eliza paused. She awkwardly pushed a strand of flyaway hair behind her ear. “I mean, like I said. They don’t really get these things.”

  “But-do-you-watch-the-videos-with-them?” Watson pressed.

  Eliza frowned. “Why does that matter?”

  I understood what he was trying to find out. There was something Eliza wasn’t telling us. Something she was leaving out.

  “I think what Watson means is that it would be great if we could get different viewpoints and opinions on the facts, like we always do,” I added.

  Eliza shrugged. “I don’t know. I didn’t ask them. They’re not into video games like I am. Anyway, I have more evidence.”

  “Okay,” I said. “Tell us.”

  Eliza’s gaze on-screen was intense. “Jill loves rogue-like games.”

  “Those are games that... Wait, I don’t remember what rogue-like games are,” Wendy said.

  “They’re—it doesn’t matter right now. I’ll tell you later. Anyway, three days ago, she suddenly claimed rogue-like games were the worst.” Eliza leaned back in her seat, lifting her chin defiantly.

  “Maybe-she-played-a-game-that-stumped-her,” Watson said. “And-she-got-frustrated-as-humans-are-wont-to-do.”

  “No, that’s not it! She loves them! She feels super accomplished when she beats a rogue-like game!”

  I couldn’t see Eliza’s hands on-screen, but from the set of her shoulders, it looked like she was gripping her armrest really hard.

  “Anyway, what’s important is that Jill has been so different online! I know something’s up with her. If it’s not blackmail, it’s something else. But she’s definitely in trouble. I know it!” Eliza said.

  I sensed I had to tread carefully. “It may be true that she has been behaving differently, but it’s a reach to assume that’s because of something criminal—”

  “I’ve been going back to watch her older videos, and I can pinpoint when the change happened. It was 15 days ago,” Eliza continued as if she hadn’t heard me.

  I tried to be logical. “If she streams daily, her schedule must be hectic. Is it possible she’s tired? Or maybe even burnt out? Maybe she’s changing her online persona?”

  “No!” Eliza shouted, standing up and pushing away from her desk. I could see her hands were balled into fists, but I couldn’t see her face anymore.

  “If we look at the evidence—” I said.

  “Why won’t you believe me?” Eliza said. When she sat back down, I was surprised to see her eyes were red. She appeared to be fighting back tears. Was it a trick of the camera?

  “Eliza,” Wendy said, leaning closer to the camera. “What’s going on?”

  “Something’s happened to Jill Su!” our friend shouted again. “That’s what’s going on! I have this really important case, and there’s no one who will help me! I just need someone to believe me and help me!”

  “We-believe-you-Eliza,” Watson said. “And-we-will-always-help-you. Right-Sherlock?”

  I quickly nodded. I didn’t quite understand what was happening, but I could see that our friend was very upset. “Yes, I mean, of course we want to help you any way we can. Right, Wendy?”

  My sister nodded just as quickly as I did.

  Eliza leaned back in her seat. She reached up and rubbed her eyes, not looking at the screen.

  “I have to go, but I’ll be in touch once I have more information.”

  Before we could reply, she terminated the connection.

  On-screen, Wendy, Watson and I looked at each other.

  “There’s something really wrong with Eliza,” I said. “And we need to find out what.”

  The next day in school, we told Jimmy and Nazhar about Eliza’s sudden appearance and strange behaviour. We quickly explained her suspicions about Jill Su, and they were as confused as we were. During recess, we continued our discussion and decided to meet online once school was over, after we had finished our homework.

  This was the first time we’d needed to juggle a major international case and school at the same time. If we truly had a second case, then things were goin
g to get even more complicated. Wendy had started watching Jill Su’s videos the moment Eliza had told her about them three months ago and was the most knowledgeable among us. She was going to give us an impromptu “lesson” in SnackTown.

  Later that afternoon, Jimmy and Nazhar were at their homes, Wendy was in her room, I was in the living room and Watson was in our bedroom. The three of us had tried to sit together, but the audio feedback was so loud and painful, we had no choice but to separate. I wasn’t complaining though—our sofa was really comfortable. No wonder Dad always fell asleep while watching K-dramas.

  Bubble Tea-Wendy stood in front of Wen Di’s Bubble Tea stand, which had a small, hand-drawn Bubble Tea-Wendy on its light-blue awning. The rest of our avatars were seated in a mini open-air cafe area she had conjured in front of her stand. We each had our own tiny cup of bubble tea. On a small table in the middle, a projector shaped like a manual ice-kacang maker was projecting a photograph of a young woman who looked about 20 years old. She had blue-streaked, shoulder-length black hair and was wearing a bright red jacket over a dark blue T-shirt.

  “This is Jill Su Yiju.” The beverage that was my sister pointed at the projection. “She goes by SuPerSprite online and has an extremely popular SeeFood channel. She has over 2 million subscribers, and her streams easily get 50,000 live viewers, with another 500,000 views after.”

  “That many people watch a stream?” Popiah-Jimmy asked, arching a towgay-shaped eyebrow sceptically. “Do they watch rivers and canals too?”

  Every avatar stopped and stared at the popiah.

  “I’m joking.” He grinned his Popiah-Jimmy grin. “I know what kind of stream you mean.”

  Different variations of SIGH symbols appeared above everyone’s avatar.

  “SuPerSprite mostly did livestreams, but she recently switched to doing only premieres,” Bubble Tea-Wendy continued.

  “What’s the difference?” I asked. I enjoyed video games, but I didn’t watch people playing games online as much as my sister and Nazhar did.

  “A stream is live, and a premiere is pre-recorded,” Satay-Nazhar, our second most knowledgeable fan of SeeFood gaming videos, explained, pushing his glasses up. “In a livestream, she interacts with fans by reading the chat and talking directly to viewers. She usually plays multiplayer games, so her viewers can join her sessions and play with her.”