The Night Tiger(116)
“A young man who worked here. A hospital orderly, they said.”
Shin! Terrified, I ran forward. “Let me through, please!”
A Malay constable was on guard, and I struggled frantically through the crowd, their irritation changing to murmurs of interest and pity.
“My brother’s an orderly here,” I said breathlessly to him. “Do you know who died?”
“I don’t know the name, but if you’re family, I’ll take you through. This way, to the European wing.”
Dry-mouthed, I ran after him. We crossed over to a part of the hospital I’d never been to. Around the corner of a half-timbered two-story building, we approached a knot of people. They were looking up at the roof, then at the grassy area next to the building.
“That’s where it happened.” The constable nodded, eyes on a tall Sikh officer who was putting away a notebook. “Captain Singh, she wants to know if it’s her brother.”
“What’s his name?” His eyes met mine in a penetrating, amber gaze.
“Lee Shin,” I said, holding my breath. “He’s an orderly here.”
He glanced at his notebook. “No. It was a Mr. Wong Yun Kiong.”
My knees sagged. Thank goodness! But the name was horribly familiar. “Do you mean Y. K. Wong?”
“Did you know him?”
What should I say? As I hesitated, someone brushed past me.
“Inspector. I need to talk to you.” It was William Acton, haggard and red-eyed, as though he’d been awake for hours.
The inspector turned, both men ignoring me.
“What is it, Mr. Acton? I thought you’d gone home.”
“I’ve patients to see. But I just remembered something.”
“According to your statement, a tile falling from the roof crushed Mr. Wong’s skull.”
“That’s right. But it wasn’t from the roof.”
We all glanced up instinctively.
“I didn’t realize it till afterwards, because it happened so fast. But there wasn’t enough height.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, it was like a shadow dropping. But I’m almost certain that the tile came from the second floor and not the roof.”
There was a pause. “This is a very serious charge, Mr. Acton. Are you saying that someone dropped a tile from the second-story window?”
It was possible, I thought, studying the building. The windows were tall and gracious, open to allow air to flow through. Acton hesitated. “Perhaps.”
“Could you swear to it? It was still dark.”
“I’m not sure that I could,” he rubbed his face, “but that’s my feeling.”
“Feelings matter less than facts.” Animosity crackled between the two men. Had they met before?
“I’m merely passing what information I can to the police.”
“Of course, we’ll go up and check the second floor,” said the inspector smoothly. “But apparently it was locked at the time. These are administrative offices, aren’t they?”
“Yes, though a number of staff have keys.”
“Thank you, Mr. Acton. I’ll keep it in mind.”
William Acton hesitated, then turned away. I hurried after him to ask what had happened, hoping that the inspector had forgotten about me. Why had Y. K. Wong died?
“Louise,” Acton said as I caught up. “Why do you always show up when I least expect you?”
I began a halting explanation about my brother, but he wasn’t really listening. “The first time I met you was in the pathology storeroom, before that little nurse fell down the stairs. Did you know she died this weekend?”
Horrified, I shook my head.
“You were there at the party, the night Nandani disappeared. And now this morning again. Are you the angel of death, Louise?”
“Of course not!”
“But you know about the river in my dreams. Tell me, have you seen any dead people lately?”
He couldn’t possibly know about Shin and me going to dig up Dr. MacFarlane’s grave. My heart was pounding unsteadily. Acton gave a humorless smile. “I’m sorry. I’m in a foul mood today. How about a drink some time—how much do you charge for call-outs?”
Taken aback, I could only fix an automatic smile on my face. The same blank professional look I used at work. To him, I was simply a bit of skirt to take his mind off things. But two could play at this game and there were questions I wanted to ask. “Did you really see something fall from the second floor?”
“You don’t believe me?”
“No, I do,” I said earnestly. “I think that instincts matter.”
He sighed. “There might have been someone on the second floor. Though why on earth would they chuck a roof tile out of a window?”
Why indeed? Though Shin’s words, I’ll kill him, echoed uncomfortably in my head. Of course he’d been angry after hearing that Y. K. Wong had locked me in the pathology storeroom. But he’d never do such a thing—or would he? I thought of Shin’s silent fury, the darkness in my stepfather that I’d always feared.
“Are you all right, Louise?” said Acton. We’d stopped walking and people passing were beginning to give us looks.