I refused to touch the knife …..
Chapter 1
The most dangerous liaisons begin with the most innocent associations. And if you tell me that it is possible that you can lie under oath, then you are lying.
At 6:00 p.m., I went up to the balcony to turn on the light. The lamp shade was a large balloon looking like the gown of a lady in a ballroom.
I do it every night because I know that someone is watching me from across the building.
But it could very well be my own wishful thinking.
Chapter 2
There is a lady who comes into my house regularly. Man or woman I do not know. He could be young, or he could be an old man.
But what is noticeable was that he always left a trace of scent after he has come.
He thought that I didn’t know. Until one day my neighbour asked me who the lady that came in was – I thought that she was referring to my late mother, so I replied, “Ah, that was my mother, she passed away several years ago ….
Then I remembered that the neighbour did not move in until after she had departed.
But was it just she or another person a man? He could have come in during those times when the neighbour didn’t see.
So, who was this mysterious character? And why was she here? Who gave her the permission to enter my house? A person’s home is their castle. No one can come into your house unless invited. And if you took away something from the house that would be theft.
But then what would that be if you merely took away the spirit of the owner?
Someone once told me that there is a spirit attached to each house. But that sounds too spiritual. The spirit you refer to is just the décor that you put in, either Chinese, Western, Scandinavian, or Maximalism, etc. basically, the architectural design, or maybe you call it the interior design. Yes, architectural refers to the facade.
The most alarming thing was that she was wearing black, I assumed she was. Most intruders wear black as it seems to be an unwritten code. Black is a non-colour. If you wear white, you can combine it with other colours since when you churn the seven colours of the rainbow at great velocity, it becomes a white. But black! Alas, nothing can come out of it.
Chapter 3
My Chinese tutor came to my house this afternoon for tea. At my invitation of course.
She was living in China, and to be more detailed in my information here, let me explain that she was married to a Singaporean man and they have a daughter and two sons. The third was conceived in Italy she told me.
That was by chance, she added. After a pair of a girl and a boy, she felt she had had enough. But then Edward came, and so they decided to adopt him as their own biological son. I mean, Edward was biological, it’s just that he was unplanned. There was also no clinic for abortion in U.K. where they lived. To travel all the way up to London for that purpose was just too much of a hassle.
Besides that, Jasmine loves children. And her husband was afraid to let his colleague know that he made his wife undergo such a hideous task.
Chapter 4
I decided to host a dinner for the uninvited guest. She is not an unseen guest, just uninvited. I know who she is. So that every time she came, I know where to find her. But I am not going to tell you who she is, since I can’t be absolutely sure that it was she.
The first thing I did was to order food from my regular eating outlet the Hungry Diners.
Of course, they do not know what I am up to. For sure, they had no idea that arrest was at the top of my mind.
Yes, I was trying to arrest the uninvited guest. If she were a person, then she must be apprehended and if he were a spirit, then some sprinkling of water on the areas that she overstayed should be sufficient.
This was what the priest had advised me.
But I was just hosting for the lady who came in. And once too often. How many more times does she want to come into my house? How much more does she want to take from my house?
Each time I decided to note the things that was stolen, and the specific hours in which I had found it missing. She seemed so blatantly bold. Does she think that by not reporting to the police I am in acquiesce of her conduct?
I usually keep secrets very well, sometimes even better than the priests. But they are also human, and they might forget to hold their tongue in a fit of anger, or in a moment of weakness. At this juncture, let me tell you here that the best is to make your confessions to a priest that has past the age of ninety, or better one who is more than a hundred years old. They will normally forget what you say afterwards, and no one would know your evil deeds, not criminal but morally wrong.
They stand in the shoes of Christ the Saviour, but they too have limitations. I know that praying the Rosary several times you may forget to get angry with the offender. One other advantage is that it helps you to remember the days of the week.
But my way is to do retail therapy, and I think her way is to steal things away from my house. So that the more I buy the more she steals.
Other times she just comes in and rearranges my belongings, and I think I am getting more and more frustrated. Perhaps I am having too many possessions, but fact is that I needed them at the time of purchase. I suffer from fomo, the Fear Of Missing Out. Although I can tell you that every piece of article that you find in my house I earned it by hard work, although some were also stolen goods themselves.
From my parents. Which brings me to the question: Can we steal from our parents?
Surely they can pardon their own child.
Chapter 5
Yes, I removed a gold ring from my late auntie a long time ago. But soon after they took it back from my pouch. So, there was no loss. They were afraid to reprimand me; they knew that it shouldn’t have been there in the first place. Why did a married uncle buy a gold wedding band for?
I was only about five or six then. No, I wasn’t a delinquent. Neither was I a thief by inclination. I spent the rest of my life defending myself that I wasn’t a thief. And that purchaser, my late uncle, spent the rest of his life with the woman whom the ring was intended for. But I was punished for stealing when I was much older. And then why was I subsequently punished for stealing her husband? Why didn’t they confront me and teach me then?
There are good relatives and there are bad relatives. A good relative can turn bad, and a bad relative can become good. Depending on who their in-laws were and who your in-laws are. This is like chemistry, the wind changes and the tide forms.
The hurricane Melissa swept across Philippines just yesterday. I watched with horror and amazement at the news that came across and the way people were completely devastated.
Chapter 6
We cannot afford to remember the past for too long, neither can we forgive too many people.
Sherlock Holmes sent a case up to me for consideration today and asked me if I wanted to hear the case.
I read and saw the scenario that happened at the police station:
The first thing the man told the police was, “I killed her.” He was old, and his breath laboured; there was a faint smell about him, of damp wool, of poultices, of cough linctus and piety.
Inspector Kenneth was just about to log out of his computer for the day. “Oh, shut up, go home and sleep, tomorrow then come,” he muttered under his breath.
But officer Albert was more alert, he followed up by asking the accompanying woman, dressed in a polka dotted black dress, “was the job accomplished by one or the both of you?”
“No, I did it alone,” the old man said.
“Of course not, dear, I supplied you with the knife,” the woman said.
Huh? What was the matter with you? The sleepy officer thought to himself.
“Let me take a statement,” officer Kenneth said, “Oh, so you are just the witness right?”
“No, I told him to do it,” woman said.
This a confession or what? Office Albert thought to himself.
Officer Albert quietly told the sleepy officer to move away. It is known that every witness is a potential criminal. If you can’t charge them under the primary charge, then you use abetment.
He already had the intention to frame the pair.
Why would anyone want to walk into a police station and disturb the peace? Everyone needs to sleep, including police officers. Unless they have OCD, the Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, meaning they can’t function unless they work.
Why can’t they sleep? Why can’t people fall asleep?
Chapter 7
The unseen is in my house again. This time I do not know which parishioner it is. But if he is a Saint, then he is most welcomed.
I realised that this unseen woman brings with her a whole host of parishioners.
Tonight is the first that I am able to fall asleep without the aid of the serial Fugitive. It has kept me awake for quite a while. The story of a runaway man has kept me engrossed for three weeks now. Raymond did warn me about this drama. He told me that if you have a very good imagination it could project into your real world. But I did not listen to him. Nonetheless I could not say that it did not affect me. Adversely, I would say.
I became worried for the unseen woman.
Before I fell asleep, I asked the Saint, “Why are these beings so nasty? Surely there must be a limitation period upon which they are allowed to appear in my house. Or was it merely my own over developed sense of imagination.
“Sir, you are beginning to write long and tedious judgement,” my secretary Jasmine told me this morning, “But how to shorten it? Since I have so much to say to the people?” They meet me every so often and had unwittingly entered into my life. How do I get rid of them after the case is over?
This is problem.
Chapter 8
When you have found your favourite spot at home, you will realise that everywhere you go, no matter how far how wide, you are still in the same spot, just in a different part of the world.
The background is different. The face changes a little and the clothes are different.
Yes, there is always a person whom you can’t run away from. And that man the Christians call Him God. It is just your inner soul. Scammers call themselves your soul mate. The soul loves you if you had been kind to him, he could be your friend, or even a past enemy. Your purpose in life is to find him, but not to meet him. For once you meet him, he becomes real, trapped by a shell of his outer existence. And he no longer is your voice.
In my first year at a Japanese School, I was given a textbook that talks to me about migration birds. I didn’t latch on immediately, as I was in no mood to settle down in a foreign country. There were not enough people of my own race. Birds of the same feathers flock together, but not all birds find their own species to fly together.
But more accurately I wasn’t keen on my own company.
They say that after you die you are reborn with the same set of relatives that you were encumbered, or blessed with, depending on what you did during your lifetime, and not who you were.
But until you have lived 酸甜苦辣, you cannot die. I had, several times, and I am still alive and I am now happy in my own nest. The nest is my bench.
Chapter 9
I thought of the woman again.
I must get rid of her. I must bring her out into the open, and I must make her tell me how many times she has been to my house. As well as how much things she has stolen from my house.
For that purpose, I have installed CCTV in my house.
There are several ways to dispose of one’s belongings, including an old flame the 老相好。Disposing of old unwanted goods you get a reliable disposal company, other times you just down it under the chute. Disposing of one’s old flame, you simply say goodbye. But how can you guarantee that he would never find his way back again, as another person?
We must establish who dropped who first.
But I can only say that we are all human. Finite wisdom does stupid things. Once I realised this, I stopped throwing things. But we need to organise. If we don’t throw we cannot organise. Some people prefer to call it declutter. Food is perishable, including the Holy Water. The priest that blessed it might already have died or forgotten to say his prayers one morning. Unless it rains, God’s presence cannot be felt.
Chapter 10
I can’t find my cloak again.
Nowhere is safe. Not even in your own home. I know that I do have a habit of moving things around the house. But, how large is my house? My room is small and if I searched all the relevant places and my gown still cannot be found, then where could it be?
For sure I know that no one had entered my room since I came in this morning.
Could it be the cleaner Engelica? Or Helena? Oh, I forget their Chinese names. But alas! Who cares about the Chinese? We use English here.
The minute I walk out of my courtroom to talk to my secretary, Engelica appeared,
“先生，您需要茶吗？“
“Err ….. I was just about to reply, trying to polish up my poor Mandarin.
“他不必，“ my secretary responded.
Why did she talk? I was getting annoyed.
My Chinese tutor suddenly stopped talking, just as I thought I had synthesized her as Jasmine.
“Shits!!! I lost her.” I became enraged. And then at the same time my bowels moved, I had to answer nature’s call. “Wait for me,” I shouted after Jasmine, and then hurriedly I rushed to the toilet.
My usual toilet is on the same floor, just a few steps down. If I ran there, I should make it on time.
“Cleaning in Progress” a plate was on the floor, and I saw a mop leaning against the door to the toilet. Suddenly I heard a voice – “You are the Chief Justice!!! Surely you must be able to tell your staff not to clean the toilet at an inconvenient time, surely you must be able to answer nature’s call at your will and pleasure, surely you must be able to ….” I kicked the notice away, shouted at the woman, “I need to shit! Get away!”
“Go to hell!” She shouted back at me.
This time I was too busy to ask her for her name.
Chapter 11
Being unforgiving gives you strength against the person who offended, provided that he is seeking your pardon. Some offenders were always going to the church to pray for forgiveness instead of asking the victim for the pardon directly themselves. As I was writing my judgement I thought to myself. But of course, they didn’t’ know how the offender paid.
This reminded me that I had forgotten to look for the cleaning lady yesterday to ask her to forgive me for having been rude to her. Immediately I got up from my chair and left my room, in order to say sorry to her.
But she had left. Nowhere to be found.
Frustrated, I went back to my room, ignoring Jasmine’s “you are back, sir!”
My own misdemeanour had made me ashamed of myself.
So then therefore I have decided to pardon all offenders. But I can’t because I am a judge. I always tell them, if harm had not been done on you, it is easy to forgive. But if it hurt you badly then surely some form of compensation must be returned.
But some of my plaintiffs and victims just want revenge. Is this allowed? Yes, I believe so. It is always up to the aggrieved to decide on the type of compensation. Sometimes when I really can’t decide I will just do something to make God hear me. No, my wife is not my God, neither is it Jasmine. It is my past, the past that brought me here. That is why I refuse to attend church. There are too many people there, too many voices of sinners not yet paid and forgiven.
That is why I prefer sitting on the bench. It’s like reading a story, and the plot thickens each time I attend court …..
Chapter 12
As a judge who had been adjudicating on this case, I knew whom she was the minute I saw her, the remarkable resemblance between she and the woman whom I thought have been coming into my house.
By now I have synthesized her as my life partner.
She was the accused but I knew straight away that she was the murdered, and job done by the priest. And this woman was that same woman who comes into my room in the courthouse to remove the gown from me.
In order to determine if she were also a harmless uninvited guest in my home, I had to find the real murdered. I decided to leave some things behind in the house for her soul to take away. For I knew that she was still in purgatory. They were both harmful in their own way, just a human more harmful than the soul.
For the purpose, I left my wife’s necklace on the dining table – the most prominent and noticeable place. I didn’t want to put it in the bedroom as I was hoping that she won’t come into my bedroom. Once she sees my nice expensive necklace, she should be satisfied enough to grab it and run. Unless she was very dull.
By this time I have decided that this was a she.
This necklace was an item I bought from Princess Dowager, a Chinese costume designer. The entire piece was made of stones and in the centre at the neckline they were green translucent emerald enough to be mistaken as jade. I decided that it was ok for her to take away because it was not a genuine article, although it would have been insulting to the designer that I should denigrate costume. Ok, I concede, it is not a fake.
Three days later, I found that she actually came. But she did not take the necklace. Instead she took the pearl earrings by the side of my bed. So, she’d rather a small tiny earrings than a large necklace. Did she lie on my bed as well? I realised that she is smart. I began to give her some credit.
Chapter 13
I finally set him free. The priest who disturbed Sherlock Holmes’s peace. For I decided that I do not wish him to follow the ten commandments anymore. I put it in my judgement as one of the grounds of findings, that a man is entitled to lie if it was to protect himself.
So that lying should now be accepted if it were to protect oneself. After I had set another precedent, I decided to log out, turn off my computer, take out my gown, hang it on the clothes rack, and then I went to the door, turned off the lights and left my courtroom, forgetting which courtroom it was, and forgetting that my name on the door had been changed.
I went home, saw my wife in a black dress, and then I realised that it was she coming into my house the courtroom every day.
It was most excruciating.
I set several janissaries on my desk, and then I told her I would divorce her.
She cried, I saw, and I turned a blind eye to it. I conquered tears.
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