The Feng Shui Detective Goes South Read Online Free PDF Page A

was the end of it. But I have long felt that a malevolent spirit has been wanting to cause harm to my poor child. The ghost of Mr Oath. Now I’m convinced it’s true.’
    She had gone on to explain how a series of bad omens had left her convinced that an evil presence was causing harm to the family. And then, to Wong’s surprise, the tiny, mild woman had become belligerent, threatening to get ‘powerful friends in Hong Kong’ to come to Singapore to look after her family, if no one here would take any interest. ‘I can get humans dealt with,’ she had said. ‘But I don’t know anyone who can take out a ghost.’
    Wong had listened patiently, knowing from experience that many clients or would-be clients simply wanted someone to whom they could tell their problem. When she had finally paused for breath, he had tried to convince her that it was not the job of a feng shui master to deal with dead spirits. Some feng shui practitioners did not even believe in ghosts, he said. But he explained that he was in regular touch with a group of people—the investigative advisory committee of the Singapore Union of Industrial Mystics—that did include individuals who had an interest in such matters.
    The conversation ended with Wong agreeing to put Mrs Tsai-Leibler in contact with Superintendent Gilbert Tan, a senior police officer who was likely to be more willing to take her complaints seriously than his colleagues in the force. Tan acted as a liaison man between the Singapore police and the local mystics. He also referred her to Madame Xu Chong Li, a Chinese fortune-teller who frequently dealt with paranormal events and who would be happy to discuss the case in detail.
    ‘Mr Tan is used to listening to unusual explanations for things,’ the geomancer explained. ‘I will give you his phone number now. After you talk to him, you call Madame Xu. She is very helpful. She will offer consultancy service on the matter at competitive price. Money back guarantee.’
    As he put down the phone, he was startled to find that Winnie Lim had marched over to his desk and was standing glaring at him.
    Winnie handed him a piece of paper.
    ‘Take,’ she said.
    He was flustered for moment, not knowing whether to look at the sheet of paper or Winnie’s unsmiling face.
    ‘I have to go out. Very busy. Here is list of things you do while I am out,’ Winnie said.
    ‘Where do you go?’
    ‘Out. Very busy.’
    ‘Oh.’
    ‘Number three and four on list very important. Much overdue. Don’t forget.’
    ‘Number three-four,’ he repeated mechanically.
    He was so astonished at her insolence that he sat frozen in his chair, unable to move. Winnie Lim calmly picked up her handbag and strolled out of the room, humming a Jacky Cheung pop tune.
    Only when the sound of her footsteps tripping down the stairs faded did mobility return to his limbs.
    ‘Aiyeeaah,’ he breathed, looking at the list of tasks she had left him. Number three was ‘Buy New Clock’. Number four was ‘Order Water Refills’.

    In an old flat decorated with red and gold flock wallpaper in Bussorah Street, Kampong Glam, a mauve plastic telephone in a style fifteen years out of date jangled noisily.
    Dilip Kenneth Sinha snatched up the receiver. ‘Ye-es?’ he said, drawing out the word into a poised and elegant sentence.
    ‘Hello?’ said the caller.
    ‘Ye-es?’
    ‘Is that Dilip? It’s me.’
    ‘Well of course. I knew it was you. I always know these things,’ he said grandly. ‘I knew you were going to call even before the phone rang, Madame Xu.’
    The caller gave a short, dismissive laugh. ‘Ha! No need to try to impress me with such skills, Dilip. You know there is no one more psychic in this town than I am.’
    Sinha smiled. ‘Maybe so. But I was merely giving my own powers a little exercise. Knowing who’s on the telephone has been a specialty of mine since childhood.’
    This was evidently not the right thing to say. The telephone delivered the sound of a