Aunty Lee's Deadly Specials (3 page)

When GraceFaith found the main door to the Sung Law office unlocked, she was only
mildly surprised. The cleaners were in, she supposed. Or whoever had been the last
to leave last night had been careless. GraceFaith felt a small tremor of pleasure
thinking how angry Mabel Sung would be when she told her. Mabel, founder and big boss
at Sung Law, was obsessive about security and privacy. GraceFaith thought it was a
lawyerly trait. Mabel’s daughter, Sharon, also a lawyer in the firm, was the same
way. GraceFaith herself had become a legal assistant intending to become a lawyer’s
wife. That had been almost two years ago, and until certain recent events GraceFaith
had been beginning to think it was time to move on. Mabel’s husband, Henry, and son,
Leonard, were the only men she encountered regularly at Sung Law. The Sung money and
connections had made Leonard Sung look like a possible option for a while. But there
was a limit to what GraceFaith was willing to put up with. Leonard Sung had not even
managed to pass his O levels in Singapore. If he had come from a poor family, the
boy would have been shunted into vocational training. Instead he had been sent to
America. GraceFaith had heard such stories about what he had got up to there—even
all that family money had not managed to buy him a degree—but she still liked Leonard
better than Sharon. GraceFaith generally preferred men to women. Things were in her
favor at Sung Law now and she might as well put away as much cash as she could till
something better showed up.

The door to Mabel’s office stood slightly ajar. If the cleaners were in there unsupervised,
Mabel Sung would really freak out. At least a Mabel Sung tantrum would be more interesting
than the utterly dull and pointless brunch party at the Sungs’ house was going to
be, GraceFaith thought. Perhaps she should call and let Mabel know that the door had
been left open and the cleaners were in there unsupervised. Mabel had been boringly
subdued over the past couple of weeks. Her making her daughter Sharon a full partner
in the firm had not surprised anyone.

GraceFaith did not like Sharon Sung. Despite a drab wardrobe and a loser haircut,
Sharon Sung showed no sign of even noticing GraceFaith’s superior appearance. Sharon
Sung was a spoiled rich girl who thought she was so smart when all she had done was
pick up what was handed to her on a plate. GraceFaith resented this and resented giving
up her Saturday morning to go all the way out to Bukit Timah to celebrate something
no one cared about. Still, she had dressed carefully. No one could call her silky
vintage-looking dress revealing. But the way it fell open at the neckline and clung
to her hips emphasized GraceFaith’s best assets. And why not? She had paid for them
and it was time they worked for her. But until they paid off, she had other work to
do . . .

GraceFaith pushed open the door of Mabel’s office and stopped, taken aback.

Sharon Sung was sitting behind her mother’s enormous desk, reading. GraceFaith felt
a sudden urge to turn and run. But why? Just because Sharon was in Mabel’s office
didn’t mean she knew anything. After all Mabel herself had no idea what GraceFaith
was doing . . .

“You’re here so early?” GraceFaith said brightly.

“Still here.”

“You mean since yesterday? You spent the whole of last night in the office?”

Sharon did not answer.

GraceFaith knew her first duty at Sung Law was to play personal assistant to Mabel
Sung and keep her happy. Keeping Mabel Sung happy was top priority for everyone at
Sung Law except perhaps Sharon. Sharon seemed to go out of her way to provoke Mabel.
She was not a typical spoiled second-generation money brat, which Mabel might have
found easier to handle. No, Sharon prided herself on being a good lawyer, good enough
to point out flaws in Mabel Sung’s own work.

“You should be getting home. Isn’t your big partnership party this morning?”

Sharon didn’t bother to answer this. Her head hurt and her eyes hurt and she had a
crick in her neck. But what hurt most of all was that she had spent all night in the
office and no one from her family had been worried enough to call.

“Did Mabel send you to get me?”

“No. I just came in to look up something—”

“I could have died here and they wouldn’t care,” Sharon said.

“What?”

Sharon thought GraceFaith a miserable excuse for a legal assistant. In her opinion,
no one who put so much time and effort into makeup and manicures could be of any real
value. Sharon was proud of how little time she spent on her own appearance. It was
a matter of being organized. Sharon had worn her hair in the same bob since her school
days. Every year she bought herself five new sets of shirts and suits for work and
three black dresses and one blue or green dress for Chinese New Year. This was a compromise.
Though a fervent Christian, Mabel Sung would have preferred her daughter wear red
for New Year fortune, but had only succeeded in weaning her off black.

“Shouldn’t you be at home preparing for the party? After all, it’s your big day!”
GraceFaith tried again.

“It’s not a big day. It’s a big responsibility. That’s what I’ve been trying to prepare
for.” Sharon slammed shut the ring binder she had been staring at. Misaligned papers
muted the impact, spoiling the effect. “It’s not as though dressing up for some fancy
party is going to get the job done.”

“How can you not be excited about your own party? Mabel will be so disappointed. She
organized it just for you, you know. She’s so proud of you.”

“She called some stupid friend of hers to bring Peranakan food. She should know I
can’t stand Peranakan food.”

“How can you say that? Everybody loves Peranakan food. Besides, once you’ve tried
Aunty Lee’s
otak
—remember even you said it was so
shiok
.”

“Grace, you are such an idiot sometimes. You and all the other idiots that make such
a big deal about the kind of food that makes you fat and unhealthy!”

Sharon collected the folders on the desk and returned them to a shelf in the cabinet,
which she pointedly locked, taking the key with her before leaving the room. Perhaps
she expected to shock GraceFaith. After all, Mabel Sung’s locked file cabinets were
even more sacrosanct than her locked office door.

GraceFaith looked suitably taken aback. She also remembered to look hurt by the “fat”
epithet thrown in her direction. Why not, if it made Sharon Sung happy?

After Sharon stepped into the elevator, GraceFaith got down to work. She would have
to hurry, but she would still manage to do what she had to and get to the Sungs’ place
by eleven.

And GraceFaith had her own keys to Mabel’s private cabinets.

Mabel Sung was a woman with a great ability to impress people. She had complete belief
in her own powers of organization and sufficient force of personality to convince
others to believe in them too. The truth was that Mabel crashed into situations, stirred
them up, and let the pieces fall down into new patterns. This was very often enough
to break a stalemate and open new channels. When it worked, Mabel took all the credit,
and when it did not, she found someone else to blame. GraceFaith had survived longer
than any other assistant in Sung Law largely because she had mastered the art of serving
up other people for Mabel to blame. And because GraceFaith believed anything was worth
putting up with if the goal was big enough. In this case, her goal was definitely
big enough.

Good-Class People

Number 8 King Albert Rise was a GCB or “Good-Class Bungalow.” What this meant to someone
familiar with Singapore real estate guidelines laid down by the Urban Redevelopment
Authority was that the gently sloping land the two-and-a-half-story bungalow perched
on had a plot width of at least 18.5 meters, a plot depth of at least 30 meters, and
a plot size of at least 1,400 square meters in a desirable residential neighborhood
(this being Singapore, rules clearly defined not only what constituted a luxury bungalow
but where such bungalows were permitted to be built). And of course it also meant
those able to afford it were good-class people

Henry Sung liked the idea of the King Albert Rise house. It was the right size and
in the right location to send all the right signals to the right people. It was expensive
enough to show everyone that his family had made it, that they had enough money to
be a force to be reckoned with in Singapore. At least that was what his wife, Mabel,
said and he believed her. Mabel was right about most things. It was her financial
investments that had paid for most of what they had. And even when Mabel wasn’t right,
life was more comfortable when he agreed with her. So he did. Henry liked things to
be comfortable. Who didn’t? And that was the problem Henry Sung had with the house.
It had been designed by an award-winning architect and furnished by a world-renowned
interior designer. It had also been featured in two lifestyle magazines in articles
about Mabel Sung, first female dean of the law faculty at the National University
of Singapore and founder of Sung Law, a top-tier firm in Singapore.

But 8 King Albert Rise was not a very comfortable house.

On the camera monitor he watched the caterer outside the back gate talking and laughing
with her assistants. Rosie Lee had been a second wife. Maybe one day . . . he smiled
as he thought of someone. Someone other than the woman who shared the house with him.
Even thinking of her felt slightly clandestine, though they had been doing nothing
wrong. Anyway his wife was in their son’s room, and once in there she could stay there
for hours, oblivious to everything going on outside.

“Not long now.”

But he knows they are bound to live for eternity in this beautiful prison. No escape
unless he acts. Finally there is a person who is both his reason for wanting to break
away from Mabel and the one who has been urging him to stay and be patient, telling
him things will work out for them if he just waits a little longer. No one who has
seen Mabel Sung crushing all opposition in court or at home (and Henry has witnessed
both) can believe there is any hope. But he is willing to dream a little longer because
he knows that once Mabel feels challenged, it will be a battle to the death.

“Where’s Sharon?” Mabel demanded accusingly from the doorway.

“Maybe she went to the office,” Henry said without turning to look at her.

“Don’t be ridiculous. Why would she go to the office today? Guests will be coming
soon. Find her and tell her to get ready! I think somebody is here already!”

A buzzer sounded, but not from the gate. Since their son, Leonard, became too weak
to get around on his own, Mabel had installed a buzzer call system as well as a camera
monitor in his bedroom. And Henry knew she had planned many more things that would
involve wiring and foreign workers walking all over his house, and he winced at the
prospect. The buzzer sounded twice more, followed by their son’s voice: “Mum! Nobody
came to change my sheets!”

“Maybe Lennie would be more comfortable in the hospital—or in a nursing home,” Henry
said, not for the first time. He did not like being around bad smells and soiled sheets.
It had been bad enough when the children were babies, even though he and Mabel had
had servants to do the actual work. It was far worse now that his son was making bigger
messes and bigger fusses. “He’ll have trained professionals looking after him there—”

“You’re just trying to get rid of him—your own son, and all you can think about is
shipping him off somewhere you don’t have to bother with him. What kind of father
are you?” Mabel could go on for hours, but Leonard’s buzzer was sounding and she started
toward the stairs. “Go and find Sharon. She should be helping. This is all for her
and she can’t even be bothered to help!”

The office phone rang. GraceFaith ignored it. She had more important things to do
than answer phones. And thanks to Sharon seeing her there, she would have to come
up with something to justify her presence in the office that morning.

Aunty Lee’s Delights had been commissioned to cater a brunch for fifty people to celebrate
Sharon Sung being made partner in Sung Law, the law firm founded by her mother, Mabel
Sung. Even though this made it almost a family affair, Aunty Lee had been surprised
that a company function was being held at the Sungs’ residence rather than a hotel
or country club. Didn’t lawyers usually go to expensive restaurants and celebrate
with expensive wines and liquors? But Mabel Sung, the founder of Sung Law, was also
said to be very Christian. Aunty Lee had thought perhaps Mabel Sung believed in giving
money to the poor rather than spending it on alcohol and restaurants for herself.
But once Aunty Lee saw Number 8 King Albert Rise, it was clear to her that the Sungs
did not mind spending money on themselves.

There was no one at the back gate Aunty Lee had been directed to bring the food around
to, but the gate was not locked, and looking through it, Aunty Lee could see the pool
and patio area with several long tables and stacked-up chairs. That would be where
the party was going to be. Aunty Lee told Nina to park the bright yellow Ford Focus
on the side of the road by the entrance. There was a white line indicating no parking
at all times on both sides of the road, but it was unlikely the Land Transport Authority
would act unless residents complained. This was probably the entrance that service
and tradespeople used. From here, the residence looked far grander than Aunty Lee’s
own house. She had heard rumors that the Sungs’ fortune was not as stable as her late
husband’s, but Aunty Lee knew most of the time rumors only meant other people were
envious of what you had.

Aunty Lee had been more intrigued to learn that Leonard, the Sungs’
havoc
(an untranslatable Singlish term used to describe an uncontrollable or promiscuous
child, but with indulgent overtones) son had recently returned from the United States
and moved back in with his parents. Leonard Sung was said to be a drug addict, an
AIDS victim, a cancer patient, or all of the above. But none of the people who fed
Aunty Lee these delicious news nuggets had actually seen the boy since his return.
Not having children herself, Aunty Lee loved hearing details about problem children.
But what interested her most about Leonard Sung was her stepdaughter, Mathilda, telling
her Mabel Sung had once tried to matchmake Mathilda and Leonard.