The Night Tiger(104)

“Yes, he’s a relative,” I said slowly. Shin gave me a look.

“How was the old doctor at the end?” he asked.

The caretaker’s mother fixed her eyes on the grave. I’d noticed she kept glancing at the stick that was buried in it, and finally she made a sharp tch sound and pulled it out. Now I could see that it was quite a bit longer than I’d thought, part of a broom handle about four feet long, with the end sharpened like a stake.

She tossed it aside contemptuously. “Well, he was always odd, but no more than the other orang puteh. He’d buy any rare animal that a hunter brought in. A kind man, though. He treated many people for free. But towards the end, he got so strange that people didn’t want to go anymore.” The caretaker’s mother was clearly enjoying this conversation. “In fact, before he died, I heard that he went to the local police station and confessed to all sorts of crimes.”

“What sort of crimes?”

“Let’s see, I think it was cattle stealing, or killing livestock. Even dogs were taken in this area. Didn’t matter if they were chained close to the house or not. He also said he’d killed those two women who went missing. Both of them rubber tappers who worked at the nearby estate.”

Alarmed, I glanced at Shin; neither of us had expected anything like this.

“So did they arrest him?”

“They sent him home. There was something wrong with his head. He’d have these fits from time to time.” She looked exasperated. “All those things that happened, those were done by a tiger. A man-eating tiger. There were many sightings. Didn’t it come out in the newspapers?”

“That must have been terrible for you.” Shin put on his most sympathetic look, and the old lady couldn’t help simpering.

“They said it was an old male that could no longer hunt. Anyway, it’s gone now.”

“Did they get it?”

“No, although they set traps and even had a pawang come in to charm it. In the end, it just disappeared. Right around the time the old doctor died.”

My thoughts flew to the tiger in the garden, in Batu Gajah last weekend. The man-killer that they said had already taken an estate worker a few weeks ago. Unreasonably, I also recalled the salesman’s death from a broken neck and wondered if something had chased him that dark night until he fell into a ditch. But this was wild speculation. A distance of sixty miles or more separated Batu Gajah from Taiping. Could a tiger range so far?

“What’s that stick for?” asked Shin, pointing at the broom handle that she’d pulled out of the grave.

The caretaker’s mother looked embarrassed. “That’s just stupidity. From time to time it happens. Local people, you know. My son always pulls it out. He says it’s disrespectful to the dead.”

“But why do they do it?”

“Two or three days after the old doctor died, someone or something tried to dig him up. My son found a hole near the grave, like a child or an animal had been working all night. It didn’t get all the way down—we bury them deep. He sat up and kept watch for a few nights, but it never happened again. When the locals heard about it, they said the old man wanted to get out of his grave. Such rubbish, because if you’d seen the hole, it was clearly something trying to get in, not out! But from time to time, people put stakes in his grave to make sure he doesn’t come out. I’m not worried myself; I’m Church of England,” she said proudly.

The light was fading, the grey sky pressed down with almost palpable weight. I couldn’t see how we could possibly bury the finger in the grave with the caretaker’s mother hovering around like this. Would we have to come back at night? The thought filled me with unease.

Shin said, “Is there a public restroom?”

“The vestry’s still open, though I was just about to close it up.”

“Go ahead,” I said quickly. “I’d like to read the inscriptions.”

As soon as they were out of sight, I was on my knees, digging the loose earth up with the spade. Thank goodness Shin had thought to buy one! The earth on the grave was red clay from the tin ore that had made this region’s name. I chose the spot where she’d removed the stake from, since the soil was already disturbed there. Hurry! Pulse racing, I hastily scooped the earth aside, all the while keeping an eye out for the old lady’s return. It had to be deep enough that it wouldn’t be easily found, especially if people kept poking sticks into the grave.

When I’d dug about an arm’s depth in, I took out the glass bottle. It seemed colder and heavier than before. Today was the forty-eighth day since Dr. MacFarlane’s death. Had I made it in time for whatever Ren had wanted? A shadow moved at the corner of my eye. The branch of a tree, whipping in the breeze, but it spurred me into action. Lifting the finger that I’d taken from the salesman’s pocket, I dropped it deep into the hole.





41

Batu Gajah

Saturday, June 27th




Ren is walking, following the faint trail that wavers like a tiger’s stripe through the high grass. He has a vague memory of a hospital bed, but it fades. What’s real is this world of sunlight and wind, with the small pale woman, the one he found sitting in the grass. She’s the one who urges him on every time he pauses to look around.

“We mustn’t miss the train,” she says.