Spirit Tiger (7 page)

‘Did I hear correctly, you adopted a child?'

Khatijah smiled, a smile of pure delight. ‘A daughter, yes. She's at my mother's now.' She reached into the folds of her sarong, unrolling it slightly, and removed a small photograph of a Chinese girl of about a year-and-a-half. A pretty girl, with a big smile and thick, straight hair. ‘Siti Hawa,' she announced grandly. She sat back and radiated pride.

‘So nice,' both Maryam and Rubiah cooed, admiring the photo, pointing out her fine features. ‘So cute!'

‘She's wonderful,' the proud mother said shyly, blushing a little, clearly in love with the child. ‘People say she's very smart. I'm moving back to my mother's house at the end of this month,' she confided. ‘I need her help taking care of the baby, and what's the point of just us living out here in the middle of nowhere? My mother's in Kampong Tikat,' she named a village a bit farther out of the city than Kampong Penambang. ‘I'm happy to move back there. Siti Hawa will have friends – you know, her family. Much better than here. This place is terrible,' she opined, looking around the bare room ‘Don't you think so?'

They returned her honesty. ‘I was surprised when I saw it,' Maryam admitted. ‘So isolated.'

Khatijah nodded. ‘I thought so too when I saw it. Suleiman found it. He's not much of a character, if you know what I mean.
Kerbau cucuk hidung
, a buffalo with a ring through his nose. He just wants to be led around.

‘Well,' she sighed, ‘I guess I just wanted to get married, you know, have a father for my daughter. He was the wrong one, and besides, he's got plenty of children already to be a father to, if he wants to. I don't think he's very interested, and I'll tell you,' she leaned forward, ‘I can't say I have much respect for him when he doesn't take care of them.'

She thought for a moment. ‘That sounds strange coming from me, doesn't it,
Mak Cik
? Since I married him. I mean, knowing he was such a terrible father to his own kids. But it was a mistake, and now it's corrected.' She looked at them seriously, and then her expression changed to a happier, more light-hearted one. ‘More tea?'

Maryam smiled and accepted. She cleared her throat, as introduction to topics she was now reluctant to broach, but was compelled to, nevertheless.

‘What was it? That is, was anything, you know …' she paused, knowing she was getting nowhere with this. It was time to get on with it. She took a deep breath. ‘Was anything going on with
Cik
Yusuf?' she asked Khatijah. ‘I understand that when you married, at the celebration, he was watching you very closely. Why?'

Khatijah did not seem offended. She considered her answer. ‘Nothing between us, not like it sounds when you say it,
Mak Cik
. Never!' she said vehemently. ‘You know,
Cik
Noriah doesn't like me. That's OK, I don't like her either, but I'm not angry at her, do you know what I mean?

‘
Cik
Yusuf, though,' she paused. ‘He was not a good man. I know he's died and we should be careful what we say about him, but do you know what he wanted? He wanted me to work as a prostitute! Yes, in the parlour. He said people wanted to do that when they gambled; it was part of the thrill, he said.

‘I don't know if
Cik
Noriah knew about it,' she said, anticipating Maryam's next question. ‘I didn't ask her about it. But I told him no. Maybe that's another reason why I married Suleiman,' she mused, ‘to make sure he wouldn't ask me again, though knowing him, he probably would have anyway.'

Her anger flashed suddenly, and just as suddenly disappeared. ‘That's probably why he was watching me like that at the celebration. He was angry I said no, and even angrier that I got married so quickly. That sealed my ‘no'.

‘You know what he told me then? If I didn't want to do it, he could find another girl. “Never mind,” he said. “You're not the only girl around.” Like this was a chance for something great. Can you imagine?' She shook her head angrily.

‘As though Siti Hawa's mother would be a prostitute. How would that be for her? As if I would do that to her. I'm her mother now,' she said, her cheeks getting redder, ‘I can't do things like that. Not,' she amended, ‘that I ever would.'

‘Did Suleiman know?'

She nodded, avoiding Maryam's eyes. ‘I told him. He didn't say anything, really. He said he was surprised, but he didn't seem angry. That surprised me. If it were my wife, I'd be furious.'

‘Did he say anything to Yusuf?'

‘I doubt it,' she said with asperity. ‘I don't think he had the nerve! He'd just look sheepish in front of Yusuf. Probably owed him money.'

‘What do you know about Zainuddin?'

‘The gambler, Zainuddin?' She seemed mystified.

Maryam nodded. ‘I hear he owed Yusuf a lot of money.'

‘He did,' Khatijah confirmed. ‘He always lost. Well, in the end, they all do, don't they?'

‘What's he like?'

‘He has a temper. Kind of the opposite of Suleiman, in a way. Though they both gambled, which is a lot. But Suleiman wanted to be led around, like I said. Zainuddin wanted to lead, even though he was … stupid.'

‘Really?'

She raised her eyebrows and made a face which said, ‘Of course!'

‘He never thought at all. Just went from happy to angry in a few seconds. But he's big and strong, so angry and not smart is a dangerous combination for him.'

‘Had he ever fought with Yusuf?'

‘Of course! Whenever Yusuf tried to collect some of the money he owed. Yusuf was also big and strong, so neither of them was likely to give in. Yusuf, for all I really didn't like him, was smart. He'd never let Zainuddin get away without paying.'

‘Had it happened before?'

‘A few years ago. And believe me, Din paid up. He wouldn't dare cross Yusuf like that.'

‘Do you think he could have … hurt him?'

‘You mean, killed him? I don't know. He might try. Like I said, Din was stupid, and if he got mad, he'd just do whatever came into his head.'

‘Does he owe money right now?'

She nodded. ‘Yusuf was just talking to him about it a little while ago. I don't think it went very well, though usually, after the first time Yusuf's collected, they pay up much faster the second time. Yusuf can – could be, I mean – tough.'

Maryam rose to thank her hostess with newfound warmth. ‘Stop by sometime in Kampong Tikat,' Khatijah urged them both. ‘Come and meet my daughter! I'm thinking of opening a little coffee stand on the main road. We'll see …' She laughed happily, and Maryam liked her even more.

Chapter X

Zainuddin lived with his long-suffering wife and two nearly grown children near the match factory in Kota Bharu, in an insalubrious collection of houses on the bank of the river. Mud was a constant here; it never seemed to dry, and the houses were mired in it. Maryam and Rubiah held their sarongs up out of the dirt and kept to the single plywood board road, which rocked every time they put a foot on it. Maryam feared for her equilibrium and silently cursed the narrow tightrope she was forced to walk. Rubiah did not bother with silence, but grumbled audibly and occasionally turned to grasp Rahman's arm to keep herself erect. It was but a short walk from the main, paved road, but already the two were sweating profusely with the effort of balancing.

Zainuddin's wife stood in the doorway, watching them expressionlessly. When they arrived at her door, she gestured for them to come up the ladder without saying a word, and when they had entered the living room, she'd already disappeared, leaving her husband to entertain their guests. He'd recently woken up, though it was well into late morning, and he sat before them in a spavined chair scratching himself. Maryam detested him on sight.

He looked both sleepy and sulky, with heavy cheekbones and thick lips. He was as described, big and broad, and didn't look too bright. His eyes were only half opened, his nose was wide and his hair was standing on end. As Maryam summed him up:
All in all, a hot mess
. He gave them a perfunctory smile and evinced no curiosity regarding them or why they were there.

He wandered over to a small cabinet and rummaged through it to extract a crumpled cigarette pack, which he examined with tremendous interest and care, to find two cigarettes still in it. He grinned apologetically at the women, took one for himself and offered his last to Rahman in an unforgiveable breach of courtesy. Maryam and Rubiah exchanged a look, and then each brought out her own cigarettes. If he had no manners, at least they could make themselves comfortable!

He yawned. ‘What are you doing here?'he asked at last, finally registering that he didn't know them, and they must have some errand in mind. Rahman answered immediately, as he rarely did, hoping as a policeman to get his attention.

‘We're here to investigate
Che
Yusuf's murder,' he began crisply, ‘and we understand you're one of his regulars.'

Rahman looked at him boldly, challenging him to wake up and start thinking, but Din merely scratched with more effort. He took a long drag on his cigarette, and watched his wife enter with coffee and a small plate of cookies. She served, wordless, and retreated to the kitchen while Din vaguely waved his hands over the cups, picked one up and began slurping.

Rubiah closed her eyes to avoid the spectacle of a Malay man acting like a complete boor.
Berapa tingginya terbang bagau, akhirnya hinggap dibelakang kerbau juga:
no matter how high the
padi
bird flies, it ends up on a water buffalo's back. Din could not be schooled and taught courtesy, and would always revert to the ill-mannered lout he now appeared to be. She sighed with resignation and thanked heaven she was not related to him.

Maryam began asking questions, determined to get out of this house, and across that infernal mud, as quickly as possible. ‘Did you owe Yusuf money?' she asked, dispensing with any gracious preliminaries she judged would go unnoticed by their host. Why waste time? ‘I heard you had rather large debts.'

Din continued to look unconcerned, but Maryam thought she detected a flash in his eye indicating some brain activity. He shrugged. ‘Not too bad.'

‘Didn't Yusuf come to talk to you? You were one of his largest debtors.'

‘Me?' he asked innocently. ‘I don't think so.'

‘Zainuddin,' Maryam began in her sternest tones, ‘We know it happened, and we've seen the records. If you want to pretend no one knows anything, we'll see you at the police station and you can talk there.' She narrowed her eyes so he'd know she meant business. ‘Now pay attention.'

Din looked surprised that his obfuscation didn't work. Khatijah was right: stupid.

‘Now,' Rubiah chimed in, ‘How much did you owe Yusuf this time?' Din looked at her and she nodded. ‘Oh yes, we know it wasn't the first time you've gotten into trouble. How much?'

He looked back and forth between them with his jaw slack. Rubiah wanted nothing more than to send him to his room with a hard smack across the ear and tell him to get dressed, comb his hair, and come back with a change of attitude. Apparently, this had not been done often enough when he was a boy and still might have learned something from it.

He mumbled something they could not catch. Rahman demanded clarification and, reluctantly and sulkily, he said, ‘Around 3,000 Ringgit.'

Maryam was once more amazed at the debts run up gambling. ‘How will you pay it?' she blurted out before thinking.

Din began to bluster. ‘I have ways, you know. I have plans. I have some rice land near Pantai Sabak, and I'm thinking maybe I can rent it out to someone –'

Maryam cut him off. ‘You mean Yusuf would have taken your rice land for himself? And then you'll lose it completely! What will you leave your children?'

‘Why do you care?'

‘I don't,' Maryam answered honestly. ‘But you should, as their father.'

‘It's none of your business,' Din told her with perfect accuracy. ‘I'll do –'

Rubiah interrupted, anxious to return to the matter at hand. ‘What did you talk to Yusuf about then? How did he want to collect the debt?'

‘Well, you know, this and that.'

‘Din!' Rubiah admonished him. ‘Stop it.' She could no longer control herself. ‘Comb your hair, sit down and start talking like an adult. I never saw anything like this, greeting visitors, police visitors, by scratching yourself and acting like you're in the middle of taking a bath. Have you no manners!
Kurang ajar!
Insufficiently taught. It's a disgrace.'

She looked around at Maryam and Rahman to back her up. Rahman seemed amused, Maryam delighted. ‘You heard her,' she ordered Din. ‘Act like an adult.'

Din seemed stupefied by the dressing-down he'd received. He smoothened his hair with both hands and pulled his undershirt down, patting the front. He then stared at Rubiah with empty, though not hostile, eyes.

It was a perfunctory, badly done job, which Rubiah would never have accepted from her own children, or those of her friends and relatives, but it was probably the best she'd get from Zainuddin. She snorted in derision and launched back into her interrogation.

‘Yusuf was going to take your land, wasn't he?' Din nodded as though hypnotized, like a mouse watching a snake. ‘Had he taken other land before, the last time you were in trouble?'

Din squirmed slightly and had the grace to look embarrassed. ‘My
kakak
gave me some of her land to pay it off.'

‘And you were supposed to pay it back?'He nodded again. ‘And you never will,' she concluded with irritation. ‘You just took her land and squandered it.' Maryam laid a calming hand on her arm, warning her it might not do to berate witnesses into submission, but Din had clearly set her off. ‘Now that Yusuf is dead, do you think that means your debt won't need to be paid?'