did the waitress see the chief chef in the kitchen?’ asked Wong, lifting his floor plan of the kitchen. ‘She said she saw him getting something out of the freezer. This is in the northeast. Back of the room. Far from the main door. Fridge doors always open on the left side, except for some funny ones in Japan. Hotel fridges are always big. If he was getting something from the fridge, the door would be open. She would not be able to see him from the main door, which is in the south of this room.’
‘Maybe, like, she could see his tall hat over the top of the fridge door,’ said Joyce.
‘Maybe she did see his hat. But who was wearing it? Maybe it was not the chief chef taking something out of the fridge. Maybe it was Wu Kang re-arranging the things in the freezer. So that people did not notice that the ice sculpture was missing.’
‘Could be. Maybe so.’ The Superintendent was sitting bolt upright now. ‘But how did he get out of the kitchen in the two minutes before von Berger arrived?’
Wong looked at his floor plan again. ‘I think maybe the dead man did not say anything about a stupid waiter. I think he said something about a dumb waiter. Now this is a technical term used in architecture. In kitchen architecture, especially so. It means food elevator.’
‘Food elevator.’ Madam Xu considered the unfamiliar phrase carefully.
‘There are no food elevators in this kitchen,’ said Tan.
‘No. Not now. But I think there used to be. Just here, behind the cabinets over the washing part. I think maybe they are still there. Not used. That is how he got out.’
‘How on earth could you possibly know that?’ asked Sinha.
Madam Xu was equally amazed. ‘If you can tell that with your feng shui powers, I will give up fortune-telling and start taking feng shui lessons from you.’
‘Well, it is not really a guess. I did the feng shui for this hotel when it was refurbished about five years ago myself. That is why the kitchen is arranged perfectly. Remember I was telling you?’ He folded his arms, proudly.
‘Ah, inside information,’ said the fortune teller.
‘Prior knowledge. This is not fair,’ said the astrologer. ‘It is not truly making use of the mystic arts.’
Wong looked put out. ‘The sage Hsun Tzu said: “We should think about Heaven but also not reject what man alone can do.”’
‘I still think it was von Berger,’ said Madam Xu. ‘Young Wu has no motive. But von Berger has many dealings with the chief chef, and also would be likely to get the man’s job after he died.’
This appeared to be a direct attack on the geomancer’s theory, and all eyes turned to him. ‘Always a little mystery remains,’ said Wong. ‘We help Mr Tan. We give him ideas. But we do not do his job.’
Madam Xu leaned forwards. ‘But Wong, why did von Berger shout “murder” before he knew it was a murder? There was no weapon around, so how did he know? I think this throws suspicion on him. He was trying to throw people off the scent.’
‘That I cannot say,’ said Wong.
Sinha said: ‘Could it have been the victim who shouted “murder”?’
‘No. I think not. Watch,’ said Wong. He suddenly stood up and picked up the soup tureen and swung it as if he were about to strike his assistant with it.
‘Hey!’ shrieked Joyce, lifting her arms to protect her head. ‘What are you doing?’
Wong halted abruptly and put the dish down. Then he sat down. Joyce sat with her arms still in front of her head, blinking at him from behind her wrists.
‘Sorry. Just a demonstration,’ said the geomancer. ‘You see? When you are being attacked, you shout “hey” or “no” or “help” or “don’t” or you just scream. A man being attacked does not shout “murder”. He is not murdered yet.’
Joyce lowered her arms. ‘Hey, you know, I think I can answer that one. My sister went out with a French guy once.’
‘Do enlighten us, Miss,’ said Sinha.
‘The guy, Pascal, is Swiss, right? People say Swiss and you think he speaks Swiss-German, right? But he was from Lausanne. That’s the west bit, the Frenchy bit of Switzerland.’
‘And . . . ?’ said Madam Xu.
‘Pascal von Berger didn’t go: “Murder!” He sees the body and the blood and he’s like, “Merde”. It’s a bad word in French. French guys say it all the time, whenever they are angry or surprised or