Chapter 6: The Missing Person

“Morning, Marj,” Bob answered on speakerphone as he negotiated the downtown KL morning traffic. “What’s up?”

“Hey Bob, good morning,” came the reply. “I got some interesting developments over here. Just met up with the commercial head of QuickMoves, Henry Yap. I’ll be emailing their pitch to you.”

He had heard of them and his eyes lit up. “QuickMoves? Okay, interested. Will have a look and get back to you.”

“Gotcha.”

“How’re you doing over there, by the way?” he asked.

“Been a busy week, but I’m good. I’ll wait for your call, Bob. Gotta go, take care.”

“Cheers, you too!”

He ended the call and smiled. He had always found her to be a reliable manager.

Marjorie de Souza was only a junior manager with an investment bank when Bob first convinced her to join his team as an account manager. She was smart, hardworking, and had the looks. She worked her way up to becoming a partner in no time and was now Tech Venture Capital’s head of investments.

*Muz sure did a brilliant job training her*.

* * *

[The Tang Mansion, Kenny Hills]

Bob took the turnoff to Kenny Hills, and it was another ten minutes before he arrived at a mansion with a sprawling two-acre garden. It was the home of his grandfather, Tan Sri K.S. Tang. [1]

“Good morning, Sir,” the old Gurkha guard saluted and greeted him cheerfully as he slowed down passing through the front gate. “Mr. Reginald is waiting for you in the guest hall.”

“Thank you, Gurung. How’s the family?”

He had known the guard since he was a child, and Gurung’s father had served in the 10th Gurkha Rifles during the Emergency in Malaya before working for the Tang family. Behind their seemingly amicable, cheerful demeanor, they were fiercely loyal to the Tangs.

“Very good, Sir!” the guard replied, beaming at him affectionately.

Bob smiled back and nodded before he drove on ahead to the front of the mansion. And when he reached the front door, his elder cousin Reginald was hurriedly coming out of the study to greet him.

He looked worried and worn-out.

“Hello, Bob. I’m glad you could get in earlier. Come, we have much to discuss.”

* * *

Concern was etched all over Reginald’s face as he refilled Bob’s cup of *Pu’er* tea.

“And herein lies the problem. I understand she’s trying to look after the interest of her son, and she’s got the leverage to do it. But Ralph is not cut out for the job, he’s pissing everyone off!” he explained, looking exasperated.

Reginald Tang was the family attorney and nine years Bob’s senior. Being the oldest male heir in their generation, he had served in the family business since he graduated. He was one of the few people Bob respected among his brood.

Bob lifted the cup of steaming tea to his lips without responding.

“Look, you’re thoroughly familiar with both upstream and downstream processes. The business heads respect you,” Reginald made an impassioned plea. “I’m at wit’s end; it’s imperative you return to the fold. The plantation group is not something anyone else can handle.”

“You are aware I’ve got a half-billion-dollar fund I’m responsible to my backers for, aren’t you?” Bob finally spoke, instinctively positioning himself like he was in a negotiation. “And we’ve recently seeded several new tech start-ups. It’s going to take up all my time, Reggie.”

“Tan Sri Taib called me personally and asked for your return, Bob. We can’t say no to a guy like him. The board will pass the resolution,” he pleaded again, and quickly added, “I assure you, I’ll do what I can to support. You may be tied up initially, but once the plantation crisis is resolved, it’ll be a walk in the park for you.”

Bob finally relented with a slow, deliberate nod.

Reginald looked relieved as he reached out and tapped Bob’s shoulder. “Okay, it’s settled then. Now, the next thing on the agenda – Grandfather,” he said.

“How’s Grandpa? I haven’t seen him in weeks.”

“I’m very concerned, he’s been in bed for the last couple of weeks. Age is finally catching up on him. You better spend a bit more time visiting.” Reginald grimaced, and the stress showed on his face.

“He’s been hallucinating. I don’t know… he keeps talking about a long-lost granddaughter or great-granddaughter. Just be understanding when you talk to him, Bob.”

* * *

“*Dai Sou*,” Bob addressed Reginald’s wife formally in a respectful tone upon entering the room.

She smiled warmly at Bob. She placed the old man’s hand gently to his side and pulled the blanket up just below his chest.

Reginald gestured for his wife to leave the room as Bob stepped over to his grandfather’s bedside.

Tan Sri Tang smiled weakly when he saw Bob.

“Robert… come closer.” He paused to catch his breath, then said, “My… my time is near… and I need you to do something for me.”

Bob was quite taken aback despite Reginald’s prior warning. He smiled kindly and took the old man’s hand in his.

“Grandpa, don’t say that. Of course, I’ll do anything for you. You shouldn’t worry too much, and you must rest.”

“Robert, there’s an envelope in my safe. It’s in your grandmother’s file… you must find my granddaughter. I only saw her at her birth… Cassandra… Cassandra Watson,” he rambled on, staring blankly at Bob.

“I will, Grandpa.”

“She has… an emerald necklace… and a-a pair of earrings… in t-the jewelry box I gave her grandmother. It… it is part of the family heirloom. It will prove she is my granddaughter... find her,” the old man sputtered and coughed weakly.

It wasn’t long before Reginald came over and stood next to Bob. He smiled and nodded slightly, indicating it was time to let his grandfather rest.

* * *

“I’m worried for Grandfather, Bob. He keeps repeating the same thing over and over again,” Reginald said when they left the room.

“I opened his safe and found a photo with a few documents,” he revealed as they strode through the corridor. “I hired an investigator who managed to retrieve a birth certificate. Her name is Cassandra Watson; maiden name, Gadd. That’s all we know. I’ll hand you the file. See what you can come up with.”

“Grandpa said something about an emerald necklace and a pair of earrings,” Bob said.

“I’m not sure about that, honestly. In his state, it could be true, or it could be just his imagination. He mentioned it to me too, but I’ve checked and Grandmother’s emeralds are not missing, that’s for sure.”

“I’ll see what I can do, Reggie. You take it easy for now and try to get some rest. You look tired.”

* * *

[Bob’s penthouse, K Residence, KLCC]

Back in his home, Bob opened the file Reginald handed him. It contained the investigator’s report, birth registration papers, and an old black & white photograph of a young, attractive woman in her early twenties with a handwritten note behind it.

*To my darling, K.S.

Love forever, Renee Gadd

Easter Monday, 10th April 1939*

When Bob studied the photograph and the date, he immediately thought of the great war that started later that year. He imagined that his grandfather would have left England several months before the looming conflict, while the sea lanes were still open and relatively safe.

He read through the investigator’s report and found out that Renee Gadd lived in Brighton until the age of forty-four. She had a child, Audrey Gadd, who married an RAF pilot, Capt. Ronald Watson. He was based in Singapore and served till 1969.

He also found a birth certificate issued by the Kandang Kerbau Women’s & Children’s Hospital, and a consular birth registration from the British High Commission. The Watsons had a child, Cassandra. But there wasn’t a last-known address, so presumably, they had returned to the U.K.

*It’s not much to go on, but it was a start.* He picked his phone up.

“Hi, Marj. I'm running through the QuickMoves deck now. I’ll call you back very shortly. Meantime, I’m emailing you some stuff. Can you check something out for me?”

“Yeah, sure,” she replied.

When Marjorie received the information, she immediately called back.

“Hey, Bob. I got it. Shouldn’t be too hard -- I’ve got just the man,” she said, then added, “Oh, and call me back once you’ve looked through the QuickMoves pitch. I’m meeting them again tomorrow.”

“Get back to you in a jiffy, Marj. Give me half an hour or so,” came the reply.

“Alright then. Catch you later.”

Marjorie ended the call, then hit another number.

“Hello, Mr. Lee. Yes, it’s me. I’ve got something I need you to look into for me.”

Endnote:

[1] Tan Sri K.S. Tang was conferred the honor PSM (Pingat Setia Mahkota) for his contribution to the expansion of the palm oil industry.

* * *