Sherlock Sam and the Digital Detectives on Instanoodlegram Read online

  Satay-Nazhar paused, looking at the avatars of Jimmy, Watson and me. We nodded our understanding.

  He continued. “In premieres, she films herself playing beforehand, and the pre-recorded video goes up at a specific time. That is the first time the video screens, and she talks to fans in the chat, as no one can join her game since it’s pre-recorded. Because of this, she tends to play single-player games instead of multiplayer ones in premieres. But not every pre-recorded video is a premiere. Some just go up with no live chat.”

  “But-she-is-still-interacting-with-her-fans-on-chat-during-premieres,” Super Battery-Watson said.

  “Yes, but Eliza doesn’t think it’s actually her,” I said.

  “Did she say why?” Satay-Nazhar asked. We didn’t have time to go into the details earlier in school.

  “She gave us a couple of examples, but they didn’t really seem like actual evidence.” Bubble Tea-Wendy wrung her hands.

  And given how exacting Eliza usually was on a case, that was very odd. “When did these premieres start?” I asked.

  “I checked. She used to screen them occasionally, but she started doing them exclusively about two weeks ago,” Bubble Tea-Wendy replied. “Eliza said something happened 16 days ago, remember? I don’t know if this is what she means.”

  “Hmm. No livestreams at all in the last two weeks?” Satay-Nazhar asked. “That is a little odd.”

  “Odd, perhaps,” I said, “but not indicative of anything nefarious. She might just be really tired. Or maybe she has other stuff to do and can’t stream live. All we see is what she chooses to show us online, and that’s carefully curated. We don’t know anything about her personal life, do we?”

  “She’s mentioned her family isn’t in Taiwan, and on her days off she turns off her phone, doesn’t look at social media and sleeps a lot. Her record for uninterrupted sleep is 14 hours,” Satay-Nazhar said. “She seldom talks about her personal life, though.”

  “She’s starting her premiere soon. Maybe we’ll see something then,” Bubble Tea-Wendy said. “Eliza said she would join us to watch it.”

  “I still don’t understand why she didn’t contact us for so long,” Popiah-Jimmy sighed. “Moran sent her an email asking about Taiwanese beef noodle recipes, but she never replied.”

  “She-did-not-want-to-talk-about-it-when-we-met-online,” Super Battery-Watson said. “She-seemed-very-concerned-about-Jill-Su-so-we-did-not-press-her.”

  Just then, Eliza’s stand lighted up to indicate it was open for business, and Devil’s Curry-Eliza poofed to life where we were.

  “Good, you’re all here,” she said. “I’ll screen it from my stand so I have more control.”

  “Oh, okay,” Bubble Tea-Wendy replied, blinking. “I’m already set up, and I was going to—”

  “You don’t know what to look for,” said Devil's Curry-Eliza, sounding distracted. “It’s better if I do it.”

  Wendy’s customised open-air cafe vanished, and we found ourselves seated on plain, light-brown wooden chairs in front of Eliza’s stand. Unlike the rest of our stands, her area wasn’t decorated at all. It looked very out of place. A TV set appeared; like everything else, it was plain and undecorated. Eliza had not spent any time personalising her space. Everything she had was in its basic, uncustomised state.

  “Erm... Hi, Eliza,” Popiah-Jimmy said, shyly waving his little hand. Next to him, Satay-Nazhar remained silent.

  Devil’s Curry-Eliza glanced back but didn’t acknowledge Jimmy’s greeting. She turned and continued setting up. A sweat drop appeared above Popiah-Jimmy’s head.

  “Okay, the premiere is starting in a few seconds,” Devil’s Curry-Eliza said. Another wooden seat appeared a slight distance away from the rest of us, and she sat down. “Just watch how Jill interacts with her fans.”

  Before anybody else could say anything, Jill Su’s premiere started. It was projected on the TV screen at Eliza’s stand. I scanned the chat and noticed many of Jill’s fans had already started talking among themselves. They were clearly excited about the game. Some of them seemed familiar with each other, making inside jokes and saying hi.

  The video began with the same woman from the photo Wendy had shown us.

  “Ni hao, Spritelings! Your favorite SuPerSprite is back with a brand-new game today. It’s super scary, so be sure to have your stinky bolster or favourite stuffed toy nearby so you can huggle it.”

  I turned the volume down a bit as Jill Su continued to describe the horror game she was about to play. Apparently, some people had thought it was a historical fiction game and had a huge shock when they played it, which she found very amusing.

  “When did this game come out?” I asked.

  “Today,” Devil’s Curry-Eliza said, still focused on the screen. “It’s by a Taiwanese developer.”

  “So she recorded herself playing the game earlier today?” I wanted to get the timeline straight.

  Devil’s Curry-Eliza waved a hand at me. “Shush, Samuel. I need to listen.”

  Satay-Nazhar leaned over and whispered, “It’s not uncommon for developers to give streamers early access to a game. She probably recorded this a few days ago but waited to put it up today because of an embargo.”

  “What’s an embargo?” Popiah-Jimmy cupped his hands over his mouth and softly asked.

  A giant SIGH appeared above Devil’s Curry-Eliza’s head. She turned to face us. She did not look pleased. I think more steam was emerging from her already piping hot bowl. “It’s a condition of getting a game before it’s official release date,” she said. “The developer decides what information can and cannot be revealed, and when it can be revealed. It’s not a popular practice among streamers and journalists, but it’s the only real way to get early access to a game so they have enough time to write reviews and make videos. Which is why Jill almost never streamed new games. She tended to stick to the popular multiplayer games that had already been out for a while so she could speak freely.”

  Devil’s Curry-Eliza glared at me and pointedly raised the volume on the video, ending the conversation.

  “And remember, if you’re watching this when it premieres,” Jill Su continued, “I’ll be in the chat on the right to answer any questions you may have. There’s a lot of you, so if you want to make sure I see your question, make it a SeeShanty! Now let’s play!” “See?” Devil’s Curry-Eliza said. “She never used to do that.”

  “See what?” I asked. “Do what?”

  “She’s telling viewers to pay for SeeShanties.”

  “I’m sorry, I’m not well-versed in this terminology,” I said. “What is a sea shanty in this context?”

  “There,” Bubble Tea-Wendy said, pointing to a line of chat someone had made. It had an obvious red background and a brighter red border. “SeeShanties are a way for viewers to donate money to the streamer they’re watching, as a way of support. There aren’t any strings attached to them, but it’s pretty common for streamers to reply to those chats more than the regular chats.”

  I noted a currency and an amount next to the chat author’s name, which I deduced to be how much they had donated.

  “Did-she-not-allow-this-before?” Super Battery-Watson asked.

  “No, SeeShanties are always automatically turned on, but she was never so mercenary about it,” Devil’s Curry-Eliza said. “She used to tell viewers not to send money to her but to donate it to various causes around the world instead. Her official website has a list of international organisations that help people like refugees, minorities, persecuted groups, the homeless, people who can’t afford healthcare because it’s too expensive in their home countries and things like that. She always encouraged her viewers to look at the organisations in their home countries too.”

  “And she doesn’t do that anymore,” Popiah-Jimmy said, patting his face in what I now recognised as an action to indicate he was thinking.

  “No, she doesn’t,” Devil’s Curry-Eliza said, finally turning to look at Popiah-Jimmy directly. “The list is still on her website, but she hasn’t mentioned it on her videos since her last livestream about two weeks ago.”

  Jill Su continued to play the horror game, and the scene that was being streamed looked like it was set in the 1970s. It was the darkened living room of a Chinese family. The only light source came from the static on a large television.

  “The music is so freaky,” Bubble Tea-Wendy said, leaning as far back in her seat as possible. Next to her, Popiah-Jimmy was covering his eyes with his hands.

  “Using-a-first-person-perspective-means-everything-is-scarier-because-you-are-playing-as-the-character-in-the-game,” Super Battery-Watson said. “That-is-genius-and-I-do-not-want-to-watch-anymore.” His single eye was almost shut.

  I really wanted to turn the volume down again because the music was making me really tense, but I didn’t want Devil’s Curry-Eliza to scold me. To distract myself, I turned my attention to the chat and noticed Jill was only replying to the SeeShanties. Someone asked the same question three times, none of them as SeeShanties. They wanted to know if the game was based on a true story. Jill never replied. It was only when they asked a fourth time, finally accompanied with a SeeShanty donation, that she answered. The answer, thankfully, was no. It was a fictitious story.

  I straightened in my seat. I didn’t need to be scared. Ghost weren’t real—

  In the game, a dark figure leapt out from the shadows. Everyone but Devil’s Curry-Eliza screamed. Popiah-Jimmy fell off his chair.

  I gulped. But...they could still be scary.

  “She’s only talking about the game and not about any of the stuff she really cares about,” Devil’s Curry-Eliza said as if the most terrifying jump scare in the world hadn’t just happened.

  “What do you mean?” Satay-Nazhar aske
d, shoving his glasses up. They had become dislodged when he screamed and covered his face. “Also, how are you so calm?”

  Bubble Tea-Wendy still had her hands pressed against her cup where her digital heart must have been pounding. “She used to talk about various things going on around the world, and how we could all help in different ways, even if we couldn’t afford to donate money,” she said, sounding a little breathless. “I really liked her streams because I learnt about things they don’t teach in school.”

  “Yeah, did you feel sometimes that the game she was playing was almost secondary?” Devil’s Curry-Eliza asked. “Like it was a way to get people to watch and then listen to her talk about these other things.”

  Bubble Tea-Wendy nodded. “Yes! Exactly that! But I’m behind on her videos, so I don’t know when that stopped.” She turned to Devil’s Curry-Eliza.

  “Like I told you guys earlier, two weeks ago.” Devil’s Curry-Eliza crossed her arms. “I remember because before she started to stream, she had this serious talk. She told us she was trying to start a union at her agency, as she felt the agency was taking too big a cut from the talent they represent when the talent does most of the work.”

  “Maybe that’s why she’s become more mercenary about the SeeShanties? She’s just trying to earn more money. I mean, if she thinks the people who do most of the work should be paid more...” Bubble Tea-Wendy said, letting her voice trail off as she watched Devil’s Curry-Eliza for a reaction.

  “I’ve already considered that, Wendy.” Devil’s Curry-Eliza sounded impatient. “If you were around more—” She broke off. “I mean, it was late at night and I was alone in my room, so I had no one to tell. But my point is, if that were the case, she’d still be talking about forming a union or creators’ rights or something. But nothing. She’s just telling people to make SeeShanty donations.”

  “Anything-else-we-should-know?” Super Battery-Watson asked. “Any-other-major-changes-you-have-noticed?”

  In the game, Jill Su was walking down a dimly lit walkway outside some flats. There was an old-fashioned red umbrella in the distance. I quickly looked away. The last thing I needed was another jump scare to derail my train of thought and shock me out of my skin. But I didn’t want to be a chicken in front of my friends—wait. I winced. Maybe I should have been a chocolate biscuit after all.

  “There’s a streamer Jill has a rivalry with,” Devil’s Curry-Eliza said. “She goes by Pat the Cad. She’s originally from London but relocated to Taiwan when Jill’s agency picked her up. Jill talks about her all the time.”

  “Oh yah,” Bubble Tea-Wendy replied. “They always try to one-up each other, but it was always super exaggerated and funny. One time, Jill dressed up like a wrestler and pretended she was daring Pat the Cad to a match to the death. But it was an Among Us challenge.”

  “Oh, I remember that!” Devil’s Curry-Eliza said, standing up and looking animated for the first time. “It was really funny. But they never played together though.”

  “Think of the views if they ever do,” Bubble Tea-Wendy said, her cup eyes turning into literal stars. “We should watch it together, Eliza!”

  Devil’s Curry-Eliza stilled and abruptly sat down again, turning away from Bubble Tea-Wendy. The beverage that was my sister released a small SIGH, which appeared over her head. If Eliza saw it, she gave no indication.

  “But she hasn’t even mentioned Pat the Cad in two weeks. Not once.” Devil’s Curry-Eliza’s tone reverted to its matter-of-fact flatness.

  “Hmm. Is there anything else?” Popiah-Jimmy was tapping his chilli-red cheeks again.

  Devil’s Curry-Eliza pointed at the screen. “She’s not using Oxford commas in her chats anymore. See, there’s an example right there.”

  “Is that…” Satay-Nazhar paused for a long time. “Is that a big clue?”

  Devil’s Curry-Eliza shrugged, the gravy inside its bowl sloshing around. “Maybe. It’s another change, for sure.”

  I agreed with Eliza on this. Punctuation was a serious matter. “So you think something happened two weeks ago? Something that affected her badly,” I said.

  “Yes, 16 days ago to be exact,” Devil’s Curry-Eliza said. “That’s when her entire personality seemed to change.”

  Super Battery-Watson stood up, stretched out his long arm and lowered the volume on the TV right when a ghost started to wail terribly. “This-is-not-because-it-is-too-scary-but-I-want-to-make-an-important-point.”

  Satay-Nazhar snickered as an LOL appeared over his stick head.

  “I-have-observed-your-mocking-symbol-Nazhar-and-I-will-proceed-to-ignore-it,” Super Battery-Watson said, his pink cape lifting and floating in the wind he conjured. “However-I-would-like-to-point-out-that-our-timings-might-not-be-entirely-accurate.”

  “What do you mean, Watson?” Bubble Tea-Wendy asked. “Also, can you fly?”

  “Yes-I-can,” Super Battery-Watson replied, lifting off and hovering a few feet off the ground.

  “Wow! That’s way higher than in real life!” Popiah-Jimmy exclaimed, his towgay eyebrows raised.

  “Can we get back to the case, guys?” Devil’s Curry-Eliza said.

  Super Battery-Watson landed back on solid ground. “What-I-meant-is-we-have-no-way-of-knowing-exactly-when-Jill-Su-filmed-a-video. All-we-know-is-when-she-uploaded-it-to-SeeFood.”

  That was a very good point. Jill Su could have filmed all her supposedly odd videos during a very short period of time. Maybe something did happen to her during that time frame, which might explain her weird behaviour. As I noted before, it was entirely plausible that it had nothing to do with criminal or nefarious activities. However, I did not voice my thoughts out loud at this point.

  “But we do know,” Devil’s Curry-Eliza said.

  We turned towards her.

  She crossed her arms. “Or at least we can make an educated guess.”

  Satay-Nazhar stood up and paced back and forth before coming to a stop. “Eliza’s right.”

  Devil’s Curry-Eliza looked surprised.

  I remembered what Eliza had explained about embargoes earlier and realised what Nazhar was thinking.

  “If the game Jill was playing in the video is releasing today, when do you think she could have gotten the preview demo, Eliza?” he asked.

  “I’ve been following the news about this game, and they released the early review copies eight days before the launch date. Eight’s a lucky number in Taiwan and would counteract the bad luck of playing a horror game with a lot of local superstition in it. I thought it was a very clever thing to do.”

  “So that would mean it’s in your 16-day window,” I noted.

  “Yes,” Devil’s Curry-Eliza nodded. “Exactly. Yes.”

  “But Watson’s still right about not knowing exactly when she filmed the rest of her videos though,” Bubble Tea-Wendy said.

  “Do you think you could be a little more supportive, Wendy?” Devil’s Curry-Eliza snapped, moving to stand in front of Bubble Tea-Wendy. “You’re supposed to be my best friend and all, right?”

  My sister put her hands on her cup hips. I could tell she was trying to control her temper. “I am being supportive, Eliza. Which is why I’m trying to figure things out. And why we’re taking this case.”

  “We’re taking this case?” I asked. We were already investigating TeaMe, and I had a meeting with Inspector Lestrade tomorrow and a school project due the following day. I wondered how we would fit the Jill Su case into our tight schedule.

  Bubble Tea-Wendy turned and shot literal digital fire out of her eyes at me.

  “I mean, yes, we’re taking this case!” I squawked. I was a little more charred than I was before. I also didn’t know that function existed in SnackTown.

  There was so much about the situation that did not make sense to me. Eliza’s evidence was wildly speculative and none of it based on actual fact. But she was my friend, and I was trying to be a better friend. I had already messed up once by not realising how badly she was taking her parents’ divorce. It was hard to tell what Eliza was feeling, since I couldn’t see her in real life, but being sent to a completely different country and leaving everything she knew behind couldn’t have been easy.