The Feng Shui Detective Goes South Read Free Page A

finding himself unable to think of anything to do with it.
    Wong found his papers on a chair. He sat down and started flicking through them one by one.
    They were running out of time. Dr Leibler was formulating a plan. ‘The old guy’ll jump down first to the balcony below,’ he said, pointing to the feng shui master. ‘Then you hold on to Melly and I’ll gently lower you guys to the flat below.’
    He looked at the feng shui master’s skeletal arms and changed his mind. ‘He won’t be able to catch you. Maybe I should jump down and catch you instead. Or Madeleine. One of you could lower Melly first. Do you think you could handle the weight of this child, Mr Wong? Maybe Madeleine should go first.’
    ‘Shh!’ said Wong. ‘I am reading,’ The flames roared again as Mrs Tsai-Leibler re-opened the french windows and joined her child, having found her favourite DKNY top. The heat was blistering.
    Gibson Leibler stared at Wong. ‘Don’t you understand what is happening? We are going to die unless we get out of this flat immediately. We are going to DIE. Dying is very bad feng shui I am sure, Mr Wong.’
    Wong turned a piece of paper over and smiled. ‘Found,’ he said.
    He walked into the heart of the burning living room with the paper in his left hand. ‘This apartment qualifies as a K’un dwelling because it faces south-west. But its water sources come from the south,’ he shouted over the crackling of the flames. ‘Just here, in fact.’
    ‘Mad,’ said Dr Leibler again. ‘Totally.’
    The feng shui master pointed to the wall and mumbled some numbers to himself in Cantonese, working out that the spot he wanted was five feet to the left of the corner of the room: ‘ Ng chek jor.
    ’ Then he picked up the hammer that the dental surgeon had abandoned. He swung it at what appeared to be a protruding joist running between the wall and the ceiling. The blow had almost no effect. He swung again, this time cracking the salmon gloss with a thud. A third, heavier swing caused several inches of red undercoat and white plaster to fall away. A fourth produced the sound of metal on plastic. The fifth produced a slight hiss as the hammer fractured a pipe. The sixth cracked open the pipe, producing a shower of water that spurted from the wall soaking Wong. The fire on the carpet behind them hissed as a spray of water droplets hit the flames.
    Wong continued to hammer at the pipe until a torrent was gushing into the centre of the floor.

Monday:
Crimes
committed by
dead people

Recently, 3 000 years ago, the floating people of old China lodged on the water and dined on the wind.
    Each family lived on a platform in a bay. When a boy grew up he would stand at the edge of his platform and call. The girl he loved would call back.
    Then he would build a bridge from his platform to hers.
    If his family liked the girl they would help build the bridge. Their homes would be joined and the two families would become one.
    One day a floating boy heard a whisper from over the horizon. It was a girl from far away. They called to each other a long time. They decided to get married.
    His family said no. She belonged to a different people and was too far away.
    But the boy was determined. He started to build a bridge to the horizon. He dug deep into the seabed to make a strong foundation.
    His family did not help. They said the tradition of marrying neighbours gave strength to the community. They called his bridge ‘ the whisper bridge ’ . They told him to stop.
    But he did not listen. He built the bridge for eight years.
    When it was complete he met the girl who whispered from the horizon and they were married on the great bridge.
    The following year, a great storm blew up. It destroyed the platform homes of the floating people.
    But the whisper bridge remained.
    And so it is with us, Blade of Grass. That which takes a long time to build, takes a long time to destroy. To do what cannot be done is difficult, but once it is done, it