The Feng Shui Detective's Casebook Part 7

The Swan taxi pulled off into the road, leaving Wong with a welcome moment of peace.

It had been a stressful and strenuous evening, but it had worked out fine in the end. Four of the women had hired him to visit their apartments over the next two days.

During his talk and the general discussion over snacks later, he had learned that three of the women present were active members of a health club. One of them, an attractive woman in her mid-fifties introduced to him as Mrs Lavender, had recently embarked upon a course with a personal trainer that was proving to be extremely strenuous. 'Getting healthy is going to be the death of me,' she laughed.

Of course, it was possible that she was just out of shape, Wong realised. Perhaps there was no connection at all with the incidents at the Millennium Health Centre and The Players, but it would be intriguing to check it out.

'You have doctor?'

'Yeah-and he specialises in sports and fitness.'

'A good man?'

'Very good. He does a lot of work for kids' charities and stuff. If you haven't written your will yet, Mr Wong, you could do a lot worse than write a bequest for him, as I've done.'

At 11:45 am the following morning, the juice bar of the Stretch Yoga Centre was occupied by six people-five of whom were women, the sixth being Wong. The feng shui feng shui master had long been proud of his traditional Asian misogyny and was irritated to find himself constantly in the company of females during this particular mission. Was it Perth that was at fault? Did Australian men all move to Sydney, leaving this side of the country over-supplied with the pestilent s.e.x? Or was it something to do with health clubs? Maybe only women in Australia were healthy? master had long been proud of his traditional Asian misogyny and was irritated to find himself constantly in the company of females during this particular mission. Was it Perth that was at fault? Did Australian men all move to Sydney, leaving this side of the country over-supplied with the pestilent s.e.x? Or was it something to do with health clubs? Maybe only women in Australia were healthy?

'Are you married, Mr Wong?'

Mrs Lavender's question brought him abruptly out of his reverie.

'I know you're not wearing a ring, but I didn't know whether people in your country had the tradition of wearing rings.'

The geomancer shook his head. 'Not married. No rings, no, no, don't like it, Mrs Lavender.'

'Call me Jackie.'

'Yes, Mrs Lavender Jackie.'

'Just Jackie.'

'Mrs Jess Jackie.'

She reached over the table and took hold of his hand. 'I can do a bit of palm reading, you know. I was taught by my aunt, who had a bit of Romany blood.'

She ran her fingertip over his palm, tickling him.

'There are seven different categories of hand, you know,' she said. 'You have what is called a philosophical hand, gnarled with p.r.o.nounced knuckles. This type of palm indicates -' The geomancer s.n.a.t.c.hed his hand back. 'I think maybe we do this later.'

Jackie Lavender leaned back in her chair, still supremely calm and confident, despite his nervous, hostile manner. 'Okay, you tell me, what is it you're after? Why are you here? It obviously isn't my body.'

Wong wasn't sure what she was talking about. He thought for a moment before replying. 'I have a feeling about your training course. Sometimes people die from training too much. I am a bit worried, that's all.'

She looked at him. 'Did your compa.s.s tell you I was at risk? How did you work out that I was in danger?'

Again, he found himself baffled as to how to reply. He didn't want to go into detail about the deaths at the other health clubs. The chances were that this had no connection. He decided to take the simplest option. 'Yes, my compa.s.s needle point at you. It show me you have danger. Need to check your training program.'

She rose to her feet. 'Come. I'll show you.'

She led him down a white corridor to an office containing an untidy desk and two computers. 'Ashanti's not here, but I'm sure she won't mind. Ashanti's my personal trainer.'

'Is this computer link -'

He stopped as a small, wiry young woman with brown skin stepped into the room.

Jackie Lavender gave a small cry of pleasure and kissed her on both cheeks. 'h.e.l.lo dear,' she said. 'I want you to meet Mr Wong, a friend of mine. He's very interested in my training regime. Mr Wong, this is Ashanti Carle, my trainer, and managing partner of the Stretch Yoga Centre.'

Ashanti Carle gave Wong just enough of a smile to be minimally polite, but no more. 'Can I help you, Mr Wong? What is it exactly that you need to know?'

'Ah. Er,' Wong stammered. 'I, er, want to know what is the doctor connection for your health programme.'

'Are you a salesman from some sort of consultancy?'

'No, no, nothing like that. I am feng shui feng shui master. I am interested in health of Mrs Jackie Lavender.' master. I am interested in health of Mrs Jackie Lavender.'

'Oh. Well, I am also interested in her health, and since I am paid a considerable sum of money to improve it, I hope you don't mind if I get on with that job.'

'Yes, yes, of course.'

'So goodbye, nice to have met you.' Ashanti Carle spoke dismissively.

'Ah. Goodbye, yes, goodbye.' Wong did not move. 'Just one question. You use group called Executive Doctors on Call?'

'No, we don't,' said Ashanti. 'We have our own doctor, retained by our group. Goodbye.'

The personal trainer slipped her arm into Jackie Lavender's and whisked her to the aerobics room where something called Hi Lo & Sculpt was about to begin. He turned away but managed to catch Ashanti's comment to Mrs Lavender.

'He's either after your body, or Dr Brackish's consultancy contract. Either way, he gives me a bad feeling.'

'I think he's rather cute,' Jackie replied.

Wong froze. Where had he heard that name before? He recalled the name being spoken with a French accent. Dominique Alegre must have mentioned it. He was somehow connected with Executive Doctors on Call. That meant that all the same factors were in place: a young trainer, an aging client, an over-strenuous programme, a connection with Executive Doctors on Call-it might just be all coincidence. Or perhaps it wasn't-in which case, Mrs Lavender's life was in danger.

The feng shui feng shui master turned around and marched into the gymnasium. 'Ms Jackie Lavender,' he said. 'I think you should not to do this program. Maybe not safe.' master turned around and marched into the gymnasium. 'Ms Jackie Lavender,' he said. 'I think you should not to do this program. Maybe not safe.'

Ashanti Carle, tiny though she was, tensed her muscles and suddenly looked very dangerous indeed. She grabbed Wong, spun him round and picked him off the floor with pincer-like grips on his upper arms. She marched with him to the entrance of the room. 'I've had quite enough of you, Mr Wong. I know exactly what you're after. Kindly don't darken our doorstep again.'

She carried him protesting all the way to the front door of the Stretch Yoga Centre and unceremoniously heaved him outside. He landed heavily on the pavement.

She theatrically dusted her hands. 'Goodbye and good riddance.'

It was very bad feng shui feng shui to sit in the dust, so Wong quickly picked himself up and brushed himself down. His bony bottom hurt. Then he sneaked around to the front of the building and peered through the window. to sit in the dust, so Wong quickly picked himself up and brushed himself down. His bony bottom hurt. Then he sneaked around to the front of the building and peered through the window.

He saw Jackie Lavender on a treadmill. She was running very fast, and her face was bright red. Even from this distance, he could see a throbbing vein standing out from her left temple.

Ashanti Carle was watching the woman run with her lips down-turned and a puzzled look on her face.

Wong wanted to march in and turn the machine off. But he was frankly terrified that if he as much as showed his face near the door again, the tiny woman would grab him and beat him to a pulp.

Jimmy and Joyce were back in Bev's Snags and Sarnies.

They were sipping milkshakes.

Joyce was just about to make an attempt at a joint period of silence. This was a relationship test she learned about from her greatly accomplished man-killing older sister, who said that a friendship only became a true friendship when the two people involved could be silent for one hundred and twenty seconds together without feeling awkward.

She and Jimmy had now had several hours of small talk if you counted lunch yesterday, dinner last night, and now this mid-morning meeting. But she wasn't sure that they were ready to try out a two-minute silence yet.

And even if they were, her mouth wouldn't let them-it kept opening and filling up the slightest gaps in the conversation. And since Jimmy was not a great conversationalist, there were lots of pauses to fill.

They had both stopped talking to slurp from their striped straws, and it had become too quiet. Joyce said to herself: I should just let this silence remain, see what happens. I should just let this silence remain, see what happens.

'So what's your favourite food?' asked Joyce's mouth, taking the decision into its own hands.

Jimmy thought about this. 'I don't know. I don't really like food. It's bad for you.'

'Yeah! You are so right! It has calories.'

'Yeah. Bad for your health.'

'Yeah. I hate food too! It's so so like, calorific.' like, calorific.'

Jimmy tried to nod his head and slurp at the same time, which resulted in the straw slipping from his mouth and a dribble of chocolate milkshake snaking down his chin. 'Oops. Ha ha.'

A similar fake laugh echoed out of Joyce's mouth, but she misjudged it, and ended up with some strawberry milk going down the wrong way. She had a coughing fit. It took a few seconds for them both to recover.

As another silence threatened to descend, Joyce's mouth again took the initiative, racing to plug the gap.

'What are you doing for lunch today?'

'I dunno. What are you doing for lunch?'

'I dunno! Fancy something to eat? Any good places round here?'

'Yeah, loads. There's a brilliant burger place and there's Hot Dawg which is a hot dog place, and there's a totally amazing kebab place which does these totally amazing turtle wraps or whatever it is.'

'Tortilla wraps.'

'Yeah, and them.'

'I love tortilla wraps!'

'Yeah, me too.'

Jimmy looked up and gazed into Joyce's eyes. 'You know, something Joyce?'

'Yes, Jimmy?' she said, her voice jumping an octave and turning breathy.

He gradually leaned towards her. 'I feel like I've known you all my life.'

'Yeah, me too! Like ages and ages!' She leaned towards him.

'Yet if you think about it, we only met yesterday.'

'Yeah, just a few hours ago!'

'It's just been like minutes only.'

'Yeah, and it's flown by!' said Joyce, moving her face closer to his. She didn't know whether to gaze at his eyes, his lips or that gorgeous chin, so she scanned them all in turn. 'It's all flown by in like a few seconds!'

'Yeah. Like ten seconds or something. Time flies when you're having fun.'

'Yeah.' She noticed that he was looking at her lips.

She focused on his lips.

They moved closer together.

That was when Wong interrupted them. 'Come! Quick-quick. Plenty urgent work.' The feng shui feng shui master, who had appeared from nowhere, painfully tapped her shoulder with his index finger. 'Quick. I think problem is happening again. Come, come!' master, who had appeared from nowhere, painfully tapped her shoulder with his index finger. 'Quick. I think problem is happening again. Come, come!'

'It's Sat.u.r.day,' complained Joyce, turning to glare at her boss. 'I'm having a day off. Tell me later.'

'No,' said Wong. 'Need help now.'

'Trust your boss to lob in just then.' Jimmy looked up at him. 'What's the sweat, guv?'

'Some trainer in Stretch Yoga. She is following instructions from Dr Brackish. Same doctor wrote your special bulletin. Same trick. Maybe even might kill Lavender, Jackie, I think. Trainer won't let me in. You must go stop her. Ms Carle will listen to you. You are also one of them.'

'What?' Jimmy said. 'What on earth is he going on about?'

'Dunno,' said Joyce. 'I'll ask him. What are you saying, CF?'

'Come.'

He beckoned them with his hands.

Joyce reluctantly started to move. She reached for her purse. 'I'll pay.'

'No, I'll pay,' said Jimmy.

'No, you're unemployed. I'll pay.'

Wong turned around and thumped a twenty-dollar note onto the table. 'Quick. Must go now.'

'Cheese,' said Joyce, astonished. 'This must be really important.'

At two o'clock that afternoon, a thin man in an ostrich-leather coat hurried into the ground floor entrance of Stretch Yoga.

Although there was a 'Closed' sign on the door, Ashanti Carle stood waiting in the reception to let him in.