“I want her to think I’m doing something nasty.”

They got out of bed reluctantly, straightened their clothes, and strolled down the gracious curving stairway hand in hand. Passing through the archway underneath the staircase, they entered the grand living room, which was handsomely decorated in French Empire style intermingled with museum-quality Chinese antiques. In the middle of the cavernous space was a large free-form pond, where a grove of tropical trees grew out of the water, reaching almost to the top of a glass-domed cupola. Big koi swam in the gurgling pond, but the focal point of the living room was the main wall, which featured a two-hundred-gallon fish tank painted pitch-black that was recessed into the wall.

“Valentino looks happy to be home!” Charlie said excitedly as the two of them went up to look at him. Inside the tank, Irene’s precious super red arowana undulated happily all alone, the pink fiber-optic light making his body glow an even brighter iridescent red. Astrid looked down at the coffee table, which was groaning with a colorful array of nyonya dessert cakes on navy-and-gold-rimmed Limoges plates.

“Kueh lapis, my favorite!” Charlie said, plopping down on the plush gold-brocade sofa and picking up one of the buttery pieces of cake with his fingers.

“Don’t you think we should wait for your mum?”

“Oh, she’ll be out in a minute, I’m sure. Let’s get started. You don’t ever have to stand on ceremony here—you know how down-to-earth my mother is.”

Astrid began to pour tea into Charlie’s cup from the silver tea service. “That’s what I’ve always loved about your mother. She doesn’t put on any airs—she’s such a warm and simple lady.”

“Yeah, tell that to the folks at Bulgari,” Charlie snorted, as Ah Tock entered the living room. “Lincoln! Are you going to join us for some tea? Where’s my mum?”

“Um, she’s in her bedroom. She went to lie down,” Lincoln said as he fidgeted with his cell phone.

“Why is she lying down?” Charlie asked.

Astrid looked up from pouring her tea. “Is she not feeling well?”

“Er, no…” Ah Tock stood there with a funny look on his face. “Astrid, I think you better call home.”

“Why?”

“Um…your grandma just passed away.”

* * *

*1 The Asian arowana is the world’s most expensive aquarium fish, especially coveted by collectors in Asia who will pay hundreds of thousands for a fine specimen. Known in Chinese as lóng yú—dragon fish—this long fish plated with large shimmering scales and with whiskers jutting from its chin resembles the mythological Chinese dragon. Aficionados believe that the fish brings good luck and fortune, and there have even been tales of arowanas sacrificing their lives by leaping out of their tanks in order to warn their owners of imminent danger or bad business deals. No wonder lovers of this fish are willing to shell out thousands to get their precious pets eye lifts, fin tucks, or chin jobs. No word on arowana Botox yet, but that can’t be far behind.

*2 Cantonese for “panicky, anxious.”

*3 Methodist Youth Fellowship.

PART THREE

The man who dies rich, dies disgraced.

—ANDREW CARNEGIE, 1889

CHAPTER ONE

TYERSALL PARK, SINGAPORE

MADRI VISUDHAROMN

Lady’s Maid to Su Yi Since 1999

Madame usually has a bowl of congee in the morning, sometimes with a fresh raw egg cracked into the steaming-hot congee, sometimes with just a few ikan bilis. Today she asked for Hokkien ma mee, which was a highly unusual request for breakfast. The noodles Ah Ching prepares for her are done in a very specific way, using a hand-pulled flat yellow noodle, which she likes stir-fried in a thick oyster sauce gravy with a dash of brandy. For lunch, madame just wanted me to bring her some fresh star fruits and guavas from her trees. She asked for the whole fruit—she didn’t want them sliced or anything, and sat up in her bed, staring at her fruits and holding them in her hands but not eating anything. That’s the moment I realized that something was terribly wrong.

PHILIP YOUNG

Only Son

I saw Mummy after breakfast. For the first time in as long as I can remember, she wanted to know how I spent my days in Sydney. I told her about how I drive down to my favorite café in Rose Bay every morning for my flat white, and then there are always errands to run, something in the house that needs fixing, or I’ll have lunch in the city at one of my clubs or play a round of tennis with a friend. In the late afternoons I like to sit at the end of my dock and do a spot of fishing…that’s when the fish are always biting. For dinner I often eat whatever I’ve caught. Mickey our chef will always do something terrific with the fish—grilled and served over risotto, made into a tartare, or steamed Chinese-style with rice or noodles. Sometimes I’ll just go down to the local and have a pub dinner. (Mummy shook her head in a mixture of sadness and disbelief—the thought of me sitting in a pub eating a burger by myself like a common laborer is too much for her to fathom.) But I love eating very simply when Eleanor isn’t around. If she’s in town, Eleanor keeps Mickey very busy cooking twelve to fourteen courses for her dinners. Then Mummy said something rather surprising. She asked me if I had forgiven Eleanor. I was a bit shocked for a moment; in all these years, Mummy had never brought it up. I told her that I had forgiven my wife a very long time ago. Mummy seemed happy about this. She looked at me for a long time and said, “You are just like your father after all.” I told her I was going to meet up with a few of my ACS old boys for drinks at the Men’s Bar in the Cricket Club, but I would be back before our dinner guests arrived. As I left her bedroom, there was a part of me that sensed she didn’t want me to leave. I wondered for a moment if I should cancel the meet-up and stay by her bedside, but then I thought, Philip, you’re being ridiculous. You’ll be back in two hours.

LEE AH LING

Head Housekeeper

At around 4:30 p.m., I went upstairs to give Su Yi a final update on tonight’s menu for the party. When I went into the bedroom, Catherine was sitting by her bedside and I noticed that someone had opened all the windows and curtains. Su Yi usually prefers the curtains drawn in the afternoons, to protect her antique furniture from the setting sun, so I began to close them. “Leave them,” Catherine said. I looked over at her and began to ask why, and that’s when I realized that Su Yi was gone. You could just see that her spirit had left her body. I was so shocked, I panicked at first and asked, “Where are the doctors? Why didn’t the alarms go off?” “They did. The doctors came in and I sent them all away,” Catherine said in an unnaturally calm voice. “I wanted to be alone with my mother one last time.”

PROFESSOR FRANCIS OON, MBBS, MRCP (U.K.), MMED (INT MED), FRCP (LONDON), FAMS, FRCP (EDIN), FACC (USA)

Personal Cardiologist

I had been entertaining Debra Aronson, the publisher of Poseidon Books, at home in my wine cellar when the call came. You see, I collect contemporary Chinese art, and Poseidon has been trying to woo me into doing a coffee-table book on my collection. When my associate Dr. Chia called with the urgent news from Tyersall Park, I immediately said, “Do not resuscitate.” I knew it would be hopeless. There’s been so much scarring to her heart, it would be pointless to try and revive her. It’s her time to go. None of this came as a surprise to me. In fact, after looking at her stats the previous morning during that fabulous crepe breakfast, I was surprised that she was even able to get out of bed. Her heart rate, her blood pressure, her ejection fraction—everything was off the charts. But you know, I’ve seen this happen time and again. In the day or two before a patient passes, they can experience a sudden spurt of energy. The body rallies, as if it knows that this will be the last hurrah. The minute I saw Su Yi appear at the breakfast table, I surmised that this was happening. After all this time, with all the medical advances we’ve made, the human body is still an unfathomable mystery to us. The heart most of all.