House of Trembling Leaves, The by Julian Lees

cloud and she saw his face. The mole on his left cheek appeared as dark and slippery as black onyx.
    She ran.
    Â 
    â€˜â€˜Whom do Buddhists worship?’’ asked Miss Watts-Thynne.
    Lu See took a deep breath. A trick question. ‘‘Nobody. Because Buddha is not considered a God, at least not in the supreme creator sense. The word ‘Buddha’ means ‘the enlightened one’. Siddhartha Gautama by all accounts was a spiritual teacher, not a God.’’
    â€˜â€˜So why do Buddhists idolize Buddha? There are statues of him in Buddhist temples and monasteries across the Orient. Surely it’s a form of iconography.’’
    â€˜â€˜They’re not worshipping him. I believe you’ll find that they are paying respect to his image and to his teachings. The statues help to focus the mind for meditation. Buddhism should be seen more as a philosophy than a religion; it doesn’t share any hallmarks of the other faiths.’’
    Â 
    The ancient road marker read Falcon Yard but as Sum Sum ran down the lane turning left into what she thought was the market square, the lane narrowed and dimmed under the dark mass of a derelict pub.
    She was lost.
    And she was trapped.
    Behind her, the thud of shoes echoed against stone. Sum Sum’s eyes flickered back and forth, struggling to find an opening.
    She tried to get in through the door of the pub, but it was locked. ‘‘Help me!’’ she screamed. ‘‘Can anyone hear me?’’ Slowly, the pressure in her chest increased.
    The silence told her she was the only person in the abandoned lot. The surrounding buildings were deserted too. Looking over her shoulder, she prayed that he had gone. Perhaps, she thought, she had lost him. But no. He was still there, in full view now, visibly panting from the chase, the shadows emphasizing the deformity of his shoulders.
    â€˜â€˜Go away!’’ she screamed. A flash of metal caught her eye. There was a knife in his hand.
    Sum Sum edged up against the wall.
    He moved in close. A vulgar smell of camphor filled her nostrils. His clothing and skin stank of rubbing liniment.
    Suddenly his face was just in front of hers. She placed her hand on the flat of the blade as it pressed against her stomach.
    â€˜â€˜You want camera? Here, take. I give you negatives and all photographs.’’ Sum Sum removed a paper packet from her coat. ‘‘There is only one photograph of you.’’
    â€˜â€˜That is what Mr Quek said when he developed the negatives.’’ His eyes never left her. ‘‘If it wasn’t for him I would never have tracked you down.’’
    She felt the first brush of his fingers on the back of her neck. And then in her hair. The blade pressed slowly harder.
    â€˜â€˜I should kill you for what you saw,’’ he said, his tone deliberate.
    â€˜â€˜I saw nothing.’’
    He shook his head, measuredly. ‘‘You know that I dynamited the dam.’’
    Sum Sum hesitated before nodding.
    â€˜â€˜There was another village girl who saw me besides you. I drowned her and threw her in the river before she could talk. Are you going to talk?’’
    Sum Sum shook her head.
    â€˜â€˜I could have slit your throat on the Jutlandia but you were with a policeman and killing you would only have drawn attention to me. And then I would have had to kill your mistress.’’
    â€˜â€˜She has nothing to do with this!’’
    â€˜â€˜Did you mention me to the policeman?’’
    â€˜â€˜No.’’
    â€˜â€˜I have been watching you, making sure the fat man Big Jowl is not around. I hear he is on your trail. I would prefer not to have to deal with him too.’’ He snatched the camera from her together with the negatives. ‘‘You tell your mistress that if she says a word I will come back and hurt her, the same way I am about to hurt you. Only