This is a work of fiction. Any references to real people, living or dead, real events, businesses, organizations and localities are intended only to give the fiction a sense of reality and authenticity. All names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and their resemblance, if any, to real-life counterparts is entirely coincidental.
Killer Reads
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First published by HarperCollinsPublishers 2017
Copyright © Ovidia Yu 2017
Ovidia Yu asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work
Cover design and illustration Micaela Alcaino © HarperCollinsPublishers 2017
Singapore skyline © Shutterstock
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Ebook Edition © APRIL 2017 ISBN: 9780008222413
Version: 2017-03-03
To Rasu Ramachandran and in memory of his beloved wife, Premavathy Ramachandran
Of course the stupid woman had been living in a dream, a fantasy. Look at that too short dress (now hitched up, exposing cheap polyester panties) and the way that silver belt and fake gold necklace clash. Those pointed narrow shoes look like torture to walk in. All things considered, putting her down had been a mercy.
She had dressed up like an actress on opening night, ready to be the centre of attention. But the worksite was deserted by the time her big moment came.
Rolled up in blue plastic sheeting then stuffed into the disposal container, she made a surprisingly small bundle. The day’s garbage went back in over her, then the wooden planks over the dumpster pit.
Tomorrow the remaining construction debris would be shovelled in before concrete was poured into the foundation. This was the accepted way of cutting down on disposal fees in land starved Singapore.
‘This is a big emergency! There is a human body in the drain next to our house. It is a very big body. Please to come fast.’
That was as much as Staff Sergeant Neha Panchal could make out from the panicked caller whisper-shouting in a mix of Mandarin and English.
‘I’ll be right there.’
Panchal got the address and set out immediately, calling to notify her boss, Inspector Salim Mawar, on the way.
The Bukit Tinggi Police Post was mainly responsible for the Binjai Park residential district. Some of Singapore’s wealthiest residents lived in the area and the Bukit Tinggi posting was considered both a career breaker (for its lack of serious crimes) and career maker (from exposure to Singapore’s most influential people). The last few emergency calls from Binjai Park had been triggered by badly parked cars and monkeys stealing fruit.
SS Panchal’s first thought had been to qualify for a new posting as soon as possible. Now she had to admit she had learned a lot from this posting about how understanding people helped untangle the crimes they got caught up in. But Panchal would never understand why Inspector Mawar, who seemed like an intelligent man, would reject offers of promotion to remain in charge of the Bukit Tinggi NPP.
There was indeed a body in the big storm drain next to the caller’s house. Fortunately, it was a live body. It was also very familiar and wearing a bright yellow Curry Up! tee shirt over pink and green batik pants. SS Panchal winced just a little before she leaned over the drain barrier’s green metal railings and called: ‘Aunty Lee! What are you doing down there? Are you all right?’