"There. What do you think?"

At her feet was a body. It was dead. It was wrapped in a raincoat with a dark stain on it. The flies buzzing on it suggested it had been there for at least half a day in the hot sun. It was a man with black hair. The eyes were open and unseeing.

Joyce screamed and put her fist to her mouth.

Wong breathed deeply. "Aiyeeah! I think you are right, Madam Fu. This is big bad luck. Needs to be dealt with pretty sharpish and no misprint at all."

"I knew it," she said proudly. She turned to her maid. "Didn't I say this was bad luck?"

Wong decided he would have to ask her the obvious question. "Terok-lah. Er. Can I ask her? Did you do this?"

"Certainly not. I don't kill people in my own garden," she said, as if she regularly committed indiscriminate slaughter at other locations.