PJ Confidential

Downtown. Petaling Jaya.

It was as is invariably the case when tales such as this begin, a dark
and stormy night. The wind ripped and roared through the atmosphere, so
dense with heat and humidity that stepping out into the weather -
tantamount to swimming in warm sugar-water at the best of times -
tonight was akin to swimming through a fast-moving hard-hitting
gloop.

I was sitting at a still point; the mamak stall which served for the
moment as my conference chamber was well sheltered from the ravages of
the weather, and while I was outside, I was inside. It was, I need not
add, a profound place to be.

I motioned to the waiter, and ordered myself refreshment. I might be
waiting long; the woman who had called me here could well have been
delayed by the stormy weather.

"Oi! One Limau Ais here! Kurang manis! Thank you lah."

The waiter nodded, and about-turned. I looked at my watch - as it
ticked contentedly past the ten o'clock hour, I wondered briefly how
the next few days might play out - but then I stopped. I knew too
little to expect anything; I knew enough to know that whatever it was
would involve the unexpected.

The darkest corners of the night are my province; the most tightly kept
secrets of the soul are my playing ground, and a mamak stall in
Damansara Jaya is my office.

The waiter reappeared with my drink; a tall, ice-cold glass of lime
juice. He reached for his money pouch - I gave him what he wanted,
pushing two crumpled one ringgit notes into his hand.

He handed one back. His honesty boded well for me; perhaps this evening
would go well for me, despite my deeper misgivings about the woman on
the phone.

Her voice sounded familiar to me on the phone. The conversation had
been brief, but cryptic - suggestive yet uninformative. Her phone
number had not shown up on my mobile - had she deliberately withheld
the number? How did she get my number? I was not listed. Generally,
when people required my services, I found them.

It was intriguing.

I played the phone call back in my mind as I sipped my lime juice under
the cold white glare of the fluorescent strip lighting.

"Hello?"
"Yah?"
"I feel like going to the mamak in DJ tonight. You going?"
"Ok,"

click.

Was it a question, or a statement? Could she not speak of her true
intent on the phone? Was that why she had not let me know who she was,
or why she was calling? Many questions. Few answers.

Time passed; there was no change in the ferocity of the storm, as it
bit away at the city around me. My limau ais ran dry. I ordered
another. And another. And, feeling the gnawing twinge of hunger by this
time, ordered a fried kuay teow. Which I ate. Money changed hands; I
sated my lower needs.

I toyed with the idea that she was waiting elsewhere in the
stall-complex. I knew next to nothing about her - she would have to
find me and, after all, and my table was by the main entrance.

More time passed. My patience was wearing thin; cryptic femme fatale or
not, my patience was being tested.

A single drop of water landed on my shoulder. I looked up, for a leak;
the roofing seemed secure, then a finger tapped at my shoulder. I
turned to see,

"Lin?" I was nonplussed; but wondered what my elder sister was doing
here, and why she had not used an umbrella to shelter herself from the
storm.
"Idiot. Wipe that stupid smirk off your face. Where the hell were you?
I asked Ma where you had gone and she said that you had come here
without me? And you took the umbrella, idiot. I need a drink"

I motioned for the waiter again, Lin ordered and sat down.

"Why is your phone not answering lah? Went straight to voicemail," I
looked down at my phone, which had, in a cruel twist of fate, turned
itself off. "Ma and Daddy are worried about you. You better call them
and tell you where you are. Idiot. They made me take a cab here to
check on you - since you brought the car as well! Iiiidiot."

I sat through the onslaught from my sister. A lesser man would have
felt sheepish; not I. Even the great Magnum PI was did, on occasion,
make a mistake.

There would be other mysteries to solve.

"Finish your drink. Time to go. Idiot."

&;#911;