第四章
我們抵達編劇的辦公室時，那裡是一片澈底的混亂。紙張到處散落，椅子被推倒、帽架躺在地上（不過所有的帽子看似全都好好的堆在桌上那臺古董打字機旁邊）。
溫蒂打了個噴嚏，可能是因為房間裡充滿了灰塵。
「強田叔叔，這是小偷做的嗎？」我問道，並拿了一張衛生紙給溫蒂。
「噢，我的老天！別叫我叔叔！我才二十九歲！」他大喊：「還有我的名字叫 QT ！這些小孩是誰， BC ？」
我看向文章叔叔。
「冷靜點，強仔……我是說 QT 。這是夏洛克山姆和他的宵夜幫，他們是很有名的偵探，是來這裡幫忙的。」
「還有我們不是他的宵夜幫。」花生說：「我們全都是宵夜幫的成員。」
「好！那確實是電視劇的好點子，但我們現在沒時間處理那個吧！」 QT 大吼：「我的劇本不見了吔！」
「我不是在推銷節目， QT ，這些孩子真的是偵探，他們和新加坡警方合作過好幾個案件，甚至在檳城破過案。」
「所以你們真是來這裡幫忙的？」 QT 問，盯著花生，「還有這個機器人真的會講話？機器人，你有經紀人嗎？」
「對，叔叔……我是說， QT 。」我說。要習慣叫這個男人 QT 還真困難。「以及，沒錯，花生會講話。但不，他沒有也不需要經紀人。」
「『還』不需要。」花生補充。我試著不要翻白眼，我真的努力過，但我失敗了，還是翻了個白眼。
「好吧！不，這場混亂不是小偷造成的。」他說：「是我發現劇本不見以後弄亂的。」
「你亂發脾氣嗎？」伊萊莎問：「你有什麼毛病？沒辦法表現得像個成年人嗎？」
「伊萊莎，好了。」媽媽說：「我們去外面一下。」伊萊莎看著媽媽，然後低頭看向地板。
媽媽和伊萊莎一起離開時，爸爸轉向我，臉上帶著詢問的神情。我聳聳肩。
「那真的讓我很受傷。」 QT 說，下嘴脣凸了出來。
「對此我很抱歉，不過我們可以專心一點嗎？」我問：「有誰知道你寫完劇本後，會把劇本收在哪裡呢？」
「劇組裡每個人都知道啊！」他在空中揮舞著雙手說。「還有他弟弟。」他指著文章叔叔。
「你記得這個地方、呃……變亂前的樣子嗎？」我問。
「我走進這裡時，劇本就不見了。」他說：「它本來就放在我的打字機旁邊。但我只記得這些了。」他拿起一頂費多拉帽戴上，然後又換成一頂圓頂硬帽。
「你能想到任何可能會想偷你劇本的人嗎？」我問。
「噢！那有很多人選。有蘇克里、李瑞，當然還有科伊啦！」他用譴責的眼神看著文章叔叔。「他們全都有自己愚蠢的小動機。」
我迅速寫下這幾個名字。
「好的，嗯，還有其他問題嗎？」文章叔叔問，看起來有點緊張。
「只有一個問題，」吉米說：「你為什麼要戴這麼多手錶呢？是以防其中一隻手錶壞了，你還有七隻備用嗎？」
「這是『時尚』。」 QT 用一種不屑的口氣說。
「那也是你這麼熱還圍圍巾的原因嗎？」納札爾問。
QT 盯著納札爾，眼睛眨呀眨。
「好吧！我們就讓 QT 重寫——」
「你說『重寫』是什麼意思？」 QT 問，「那個劇本是天才之作！我不可能光憑記憶就重寫出來！」
「強田，你必須試試。」文章叔叔提高聲音說：「因為如果我們找不到原版劇本——那份你堅持用打字機，而不肯在能備份的電腦上寫作的劇本——那麼我們就會需要什麼能代替的東西，或是另一個編劇！」
QT 突然坐下，摘掉他的圓頂硬帽，並戴上費多拉帽。
我們離開 QT 的辦公室，走上樓去文章叔叔的辦公室。
這裡看起來和編劇辦公室很像，不過整潔多了。牆上貼著許多行程表與分鏡圖，還有邵逸夫和比．南利的老照片，以及一張大大的《影壇巨匠》海報——和 QT 辦公室那張一樣。這間辦公室還有一扇窗戶，能俯瞰外頭的片場媽媽和伊萊莎再度加入我們，這時文章叔叔正好說道：「很抱歉我在你們面前發脾氣了，但他有時真的很惱人！以前他像正常人一樣在電腦上寫劇本，直到他發現那臺可笑的打字機。現在他不管寫什麼都要用那臺打字機寫，他甚至不肯用碳式複寫紙，因為他說那會讓他的碳足跡變大！」
「我不認為他懂什麼叫做碳足跡。」花生說。
伊萊莎點點頭。我很驚訝她竟然能忍住不翻白眼。
「我們可以談談他剛才提到的所有嫌犯嗎？」我問。
「好，可以。不過我想我或許應該先跟你多說一些關於QT 的事。」文章叔叔說，在他的辦公桌前坐下，「他是位好編劇，但他以前曾經遲交過。就算這整件事都是他為了不再次陷入麻煩，而自己編的，我也不會驚訝。他上次遲交劇本時，我確實威脅過要開除他。」
文章叔叔嘆了口氣，身體往後靠在椅子上。「但話說回來，他一直不斷吹噓，說他的最終劇本有多棒，而我不認為他能裝出這一點。」
「但他可以這麼做呀！作為能讓你以為他真的有在寫劇本的詭計。」我說。
「呵！不太可能。」他坐起來說：「他沒辦法假裝。他是個差勁的演員，最糟的那種。就像你一樣，麥可。」
「嘿！沒必要一直談論我的過去吧！」爸爸板著臉說。
「 QT 在剛播出的那集裡扮演一位清潔工，他實在是糟透了。」文章叔叔繼續說：「他不記得該站在哪裡、一直直視攝影機，然後被空氣絆倒。那裡根本什麼也沒有，但他還是絆倒了。如果我不是快要心臟病發，可能還滿好笑的。」
「嗯……他發現劇本不見時，好像真的很心煩意亂。」納札爾說，推了推眼鏡，「如果他真的是這麼爛的演員，那一定就是真的，對吧？夏洛克？」
我點點頭。「確實。現在來說說這個大家一直在談論的蘇克里吧？」
Chapter Four
When we got to the writer’s office, it was a total mess. There were papers everywhere, chairs on their sides, and a hat rack on the floor, though all the hats seemed to be piled nicely next to an antique typewriter on a desk.
Wendy sneezed, probably from all the dust in the room.
“Did the thieves do this, Uncle Qiang Tian?” I asked, offering Wendy a tissue.
“Oh my gosh, don’t call me uncle! I’m only 29!” he shouted. “And my name is QT! Who are these children, BC?”
I looked at Uncle Boon Chong. “Calm down, Qiang, I mean QT. This is Sherlock Sam and his Supper Club. They’re famous detectives and they’re here to help.”
“And-we-are-not-his-Supper-Club,” Watson said. “We-are-all-the-Supper-Club-together.”
“Okay, that is a brilliant idea for a TV show, but we don’t have time for that right now!” QT shouted. “My script is missing!”
“I’m not pitching a show, QT. These kids are actually detectives. They’ve worked many cases with the Singapore Police Force and even solved a case in Penang.”
“So you’re really here to help?” QT asked, staring at Watson. “And the robot actually talks? Do you have an agent, robot?”
“Yes, Uncle… I mean, QT,” I said. It was going to be difficult getting used to calling this man QT. “As in yes, Watson talks. But no, he doesn’t have or need an agent.”
“Yet,” Watson added. I tried to stop my eyes from rolling. I really did, but I failed and they rolled anyway.
“Anyway, no, the thieves didn’t make this mess,” he said. “I did when I realised the script was missing.”
“You threw a tantrum?” Eliza asked. “What is wrong with you? Are you incapable of behaving like an adult?”
“Okay, Eliza,” Mom said. “Let’s go outside for a while.” Eliza looked at Mom, then looked down at the floor.
As Mom left with Eliza, Dad turned to me with a questioning look. I shrugged.
“That really hurt my feelings,” QT said, his lower lip sticking out.
“I’m sorry about that, but can we please focus?” I asked. “Who would know where you keep your script when you finish it?”
“Everybody on the crew!” he said, throwing his hands in the air. “And his brother.” He pointed at Uncle Boon Chong.
“Anything you can remember about this place before… it got messy?” I asked.
“I walked in here, and my script was missing,” he said. “It was right next to my typewriter. But that’s all I remember.” He picked up a fedora and put it on. He then replaced it with a bowler hat.
“Is there anybody you can think of who might have wanted to steal your script?” I asked.
“Oh, plenty of people. There’s Shukri, Lee Swee, and of course, Koey.” He looked accusingly at Uncle Boon Chong. “They would all have their silly little motives.”
I quickly wrote down the names.
“Okay, erm, any other questions?” Uncle Boon Chong asked, looking a little nervous.
“Just one,” Jimmy said. “Why do you wear so many watches? Is it in case one breaks, you have seven backups?”
“It’s fashion,” QT said dismissively.
“Is that also why you’re wearing a scarf in this heat?” Nazhar asked.
QT stared at him, blinking.
“Okay, let’s allow QT to rewrite—”
“What do you mean ’rewrite’?” QT asked. “That script was genius! I can’t just rewrite it from memory!”
“You’ll have to try, Qiang Tian,” Uncle Boon Chong said, raising his voice, “because if we can’t find the original script, the one you insisted on writing on a typewriter instead of on a computer where it could have been backed up, then we’re going to need something, or someone else!”
QT abruptly sat down, took off his bowler hat and put the fedora back on.
We left QT’s office and walked upstairs to Uncle Boon Chong’s office. It looked very similar to the writer’s room but it was much neater. There were a lot of schedules and storyboards posted on the walls, as well as old photographs of Run Run Shaw and P. Ramlee, and a big Masters of the Screen poster, like the one in QT’s office. And this office had a window overlooking the set outside.
Mom and Eliza rejoined us, just as Uncle Boon Chong said, “I’m sorry I got angry in front of you guys. But he can be so irritating sometimes! He used to write his scripts on a computer like a normal person until he found that ridiculous typewriter. Now he has to write everything on it. And he won’t even use carbon paper because he says it’ll make his carbon footprint bigger!”
“I-do-not-think-he-knows-what-a-carbon-footprint-is,” Watson said.
Eliza nodded. I was surprised she managed to keep herself from rolling her eyes.
“Can we talk about all the suspects he mentioned?” I asked.
“Yes, we can, but I think maybe I should tell you a bit more about QT first,” Uncle Boon Chong said, sitting down at his desk. “He’s a good writer, but he’s been late before. I wouldn’t be surprised if he made up this whole thing just so he wouldn’t get into trouble again. I actually threatened to fire him the last time he turned a script in late.”
Uncle Boon Chong sighed and leaned back in his chair. “But then again, he’s been boasting about how fantastic his final script is, and I don’t think he’d have faked that.”
“But he could have, as a ruse to make you think he was actually writing,” I said.
“Heh. Unlikely,” he said sitting up, “he can’t fake that. He’s a terrible actor. The worst. Like you, Mike.”
“Hey! There’s no need to keep harping on the past,” Dad said, scrunching up his face.
“QT played a cleaning uncle in the episode that just aired, and he was just horrendous,” Uncle Boon Chong continued. “He couldn’t remember where to stand, and he kept staring straight into the camera. Then he tripped over air. There was literally nothing there and he tripped over it anyway. It would have been funny if I hadn’t been on the verge of having a heart attack.”
“Hurm. He seemed really upset when he found out the script was missing,” Nazhar said, pushing his glasses up. “If he is that bad an actor, it had to be real, right, Sherlock?”
I nodded. “That’s true. Now what about this Shukri everyone keeps talking about?”
我們抵達編劇的辦公室時，那裡是一片澈底的混亂。紙張到處散落，椅子被推倒、帽架躺在地上（不過所有的帽子看似全都好好的堆在桌上那臺古董打字機旁邊）。
溫蒂打了個噴嚏，可能是因為房間裡充滿了灰塵。
「強田叔叔，這是小偷做的嗎？」我問道，並拿了一張衛生紙給溫蒂。
「噢，我的老天！別叫我叔叔！我才二十九歲！」他大喊：「還有我的名字叫 QT ！這些小孩是誰， BC ？」
我看向文章叔叔。
「冷靜點，強仔……我是說 QT 。這是夏洛克山姆和他的宵夜幫，他們是很有名的偵探，是來這裡幫忙的。」
「還有我們不是他的宵夜幫。」花生說：「我們全都是宵夜幫的成員。」
「好！那確實是電視劇的好點子，但我們現在沒時間處理那個吧！」 QT 大吼：「我的劇本不見了吔！」
「我不是在推銷節目， QT ，這些孩子真的是偵探，他們和新加坡警方合作過好幾個案件，甚至在檳城破過案。」
「所以你們真是來這裡幫忙的？」 QT 問，盯著花生，「還有這個機器人真的會講話？機器人，你有經紀人嗎？」
「對，叔叔……我是說， QT 。」我說。要習慣叫這個男人 QT 還真困難。「以及，沒錯，花生會講話。但不，他沒有也不需要經紀人。」
「『還』不需要。」花生補充。我試著不要翻白眼，我真的努力過，但我失敗了，還是翻了個白眼。
「好吧！不，這場混亂不是小偷造成的。」他說：「是我發現劇本不見以後弄亂的。」
「你亂發脾氣嗎？」伊萊莎問：「你有什麼毛病？沒辦法表現得像個成年人嗎？」
「伊萊莎，好了。」媽媽說：「我們去外面一下。」伊萊莎看著媽媽，然後低頭看向地板。
媽媽和伊萊莎一起離開時，爸爸轉向我，臉上帶著詢問的神情。我聳聳肩。
「那真的讓我很受傷。」 QT 說，下嘴脣凸了出來。
「對此我很抱歉，不過我們可以專心一點嗎？」我問：「有誰知道你寫完劇本後，會把劇本收在哪裡呢？」
「劇組裡每個人都知道啊！」他在空中揮舞著雙手說。「還有他弟弟。」他指著文章叔叔。
「你記得這個地方、呃……變亂前的樣子嗎？」我問。
「我走進這裡時，劇本就不見了。」他說：「它本來就放在我的打字機旁邊。但我只記得這些了。」他拿起一頂費多拉帽戴上，然後又換成一頂圓頂硬帽。
「你能想到任何可能會想偷你劇本的人嗎？」我問。
「噢！那有很多人選。有蘇克里、李瑞，當然還有科伊啦！」他用譴責的眼神看著文章叔叔。「他們全都有自己愚蠢的小動機。」
我迅速寫下這幾個名字。
「好的，嗯，還有其他問題嗎？」文章叔叔問，看起來有點緊張。
「只有一個問題，」吉米說：「你為什麼要戴這麼多手錶呢？是以防其中一隻手錶壞了，你還有七隻備用嗎？」
「這是『時尚』。」 QT 用一種不屑的口氣說。
「那也是你這麼熱還圍圍巾的原因嗎？」納札爾問。
QT 盯著納札爾，眼睛眨呀眨。
「好吧！我們就讓 QT 重寫——」
「你說『重寫』是什麼意思？」 QT 問，「那個劇本是天才之作！我不可能光憑記憶就重寫出來！」
「強田，你必須試試。」文章叔叔提高聲音說：「因為如果我們找不到原版劇本——那份你堅持用打字機，而不肯在能備份的電腦上寫作的劇本——那麼我們就會需要什麼能代替的東西，或是另一個編劇！」
QT 突然坐下，摘掉他的圓頂硬帽，並戴上費多拉帽。
我們離開 QT 的辦公室，走上樓去文章叔叔的辦公室。
這裡看起來和編劇辦公室很像，不過整潔多了。牆上貼著許多行程表與分鏡圖，還有邵逸夫和比．南利的老照片，以及一張大大的《影壇巨匠》海報——和 QT 辦公室那張一樣。這間辦公室還有一扇窗戶，能俯瞰外頭的片場媽媽和伊萊莎再度加入我們，這時文章叔叔正好說道：「很抱歉我在你們面前發脾氣了，但他有時真的很惱人！以前他像正常人一樣在電腦上寫劇本，直到他發現那臺可笑的打字機。現在他不管寫什麼都要用那臺打字機寫，他甚至不肯用碳式複寫紙，因為他說那會讓他的碳足跡變大！」
「我不認為他懂什麼叫做碳足跡。」花生說。
伊萊莎點點頭。我很驚訝她竟然能忍住不翻白眼。
「我們可以談談他剛才提到的所有嫌犯嗎？」我問。
「好，可以。不過我想我或許應該先跟你多說一些關於QT 的事。」文章叔叔說，在他的辦公桌前坐下，「他是位好編劇，但他以前曾經遲交過。就算這整件事都是他為了不再次陷入麻煩，而自己編的，我也不會驚訝。他上次遲交劇本時，我確實威脅過要開除他。」
文章叔叔嘆了口氣，身體往後靠在椅子上。「但話說回來，他一直不斷吹噓，說他的最終劇本有多棒，而我不認為他能裝出這一點。」
「但他可以這麼做呀！作為能讓你以為他真的有在寫劇本的詭計。」我說。
「呵！不太可能。」他坐起來說：「他沒辦法假裝。他是個差勁的演員，最糟的那種。就像你一樣，麥可。」
「嘿！沒必要一直談論我的過去吧！」爸爸板著臉說。
「 QT 在剛播出的那集裡扮演一位清潔工，他實在是糟透了。」文章叔叔繼續說：「他不記得該站在哪裡、一直直視攝影機，然後被空氣絆倒。那裡根本什麼也沒有，但他還是絆倒了。如果我不是快要心臟病發，可能還滿好笑的。」
「嗯……他發現劇本不見時，好像真的很心煩意亂。」納札爾說，推了推眼鏡，「如果他真的是這麼爛的演員，那一定就是真的，對吧？夏洛克？」
我點點頭。「確實。現在來說說這個大家一直在談論的蘇克里吧？」
Chapter Four
When we got to the writer’s office, it was a total mess. There were papers everywhere, chairs on their sides, and a hat rack on the floor, though all the hats seemed to be piled nicely next to an antique typewriter on a desk.
Wendy sneezed, probably from all the dust in the room.
“Did the thieves do this, Uncle Qiang Tian?” I asked, offering Wendy a tissue.
“Oh my gosh, don’t call me uncle! I’m only 29!” he shouted. “And my name is QT! Who are these children, BC?”
I looked at Uncle Boon Chong. “Calm down, Qiang, I mean QT. This is Sherlock Sam and his Supper Club. They’re famous detectives and they’re here to help.”
“And-we-are-not-his-Supper-Club,” Watson said. “We-are-all-the-Supper-Club-together.”
“Okay, that is a brilliant idea for a TV show, but we don’t have time for that right now!” QT shouted. “My script is missing!”
“I’m not pitching a show, QT. These kids are actually detectives. They’ve worked many cases with the Singapore Police Force and even solved a case in Penang.”
“So you’re really here to help?” QT asked, staring at Watson. “And the robot actually talks? Do you have an agent, robot?”
“Yes, Uncle… I mean, QT,” I said. It was going to be difficult getting used to calling this man QT. “As in yes, Watson talks. But no, he doesn’t have or need an agent.”
“Yet,” Watson added. I tried to stop my eyes from rolling. I really did, but I failed and they rolled anyway.
“Anyway, no, the thieves didn’t make this mess,” he said. “I did when I realised the script was missing.”
“You threw a tantrum?” Eliza asked. “What is wrong with you? Are you incapable of behaving like an adult?”
“Okay, Eliza,” Mom said. “Let’s go outside for a while.” Eliza looked at Mom, then looked down at the floor.
As Mom left with Eliza, Dad turned to me with a questioning look. I shrugged.
“That really hurt my feelings,” QT said, his lower lip sticking out.
“I’m sorry about that, but can we please focus?” I asked. “Who would know where you keep your script when you finish it?”
“Everybody on the crew!” he said, throwing his hands in the air. “And his brother.” He pointed at Uncle Boon Chong.
“Anything you can remember about this place before… it got messy?” I asked.
“I walked in here, and my script was missing,” he said. “It was right next to my typewriter. But that’s all I remember.” He picked up a fedora and put it on. He then replaced it with a bowler hat.
“Is there anybody you can think of who might have wanted to steal your script?” I asked.
“Oh, plenty of people. There’s Shukri, Lee Swee, and of course, Koey.” He looked accusingly at Uncle Boon Chong. “They would all have their silly little motives.”
I quickly wrote down the names.
“Okay, erm, any other questions?” Uncle Boon Chong asked, looking a little nervous.
“Just one,” Jimmy said. “Why do you wear so many watches? Is it in case one breaks, you have seven backups?”
“It’s fashion,” QT said dismissively.
“Is that also why you’re wearing a scarf in this heat?” Nazhar asked.
QT stared at him, blinking.
“Okay, let’s allow QT to rewrite—”
“What do you mean ’rewrite’?” QT asked. “That script was genius! I can’t just rewrite it from memory!”
“You’ll have to try, Qiang Tian,” Uncle Boon Chong said, raising his voice, “because if we can’t find the original script, the one you insisted on writing on a typewriter instead of on a computer where it could have been backed up, then we’re going to need something, or someone else!”
QT abruptly sat down, took off his bowler hat and put the fedora back on.
We left QT’s office and walked upstairs to Uncle Boon Chong’s office. It looked very similar to the writer’s room but it was much neater. There were a lot of schedules and storyboards posted on the walls, as well as old photographs of Run Run Shaw and P. Ramlee, and a big Masters of the Screen poster, like the one in QT’s office. And this office had a window overlooking the set outside.
Mom and Eliza rejoined us, just as Uncle Boon Chong said, “I’m sorry I got angry in front of you guys. But he can be so irritating sometimes! He used to write his scripts on a computer like a normal person until he found that ridiculous typewriter. Now he has to write everything on it. And he won’t even use carbon paper because he says it’ll make his carbon footprint bigger!”
“I-do-not-think-he-knows-what-a-carbon-footprint-is,” Watson said.
Eliza nodded. I was surprised she managed to keep herself from rolling her eyes.
“Can we talk about all the suspects he mentioned?” I asked.
“Yes, we can, but I think maybe I should tell you a bit more about QT first,” Uncle Boon Chong said, sitting down at his desk. “He’s a good writer, but he’s been late before. I wouldn’t be surprised if he made up this whole thing just so he wouldn’t get into trouble again. I actually threatened to fire him the last time he turned a script in late.”
Uncle Boon Chong sighed and leaned back in his chair. “But then again, he’s been boasting about how fantastic his final script is, and I don’t think he’d have faked that.”
“But he could have, as a ruse to make you think he was actually writing,” I said.
“Heh. Unlikely,” he said sitting up, “he can’t fake that. He’s a terrible actor. The worst. Like you, Mike.”
“Hey! There’s no need to keep harping on the past,” Dad said, scrunching up his face.
“QT played a cleaning uncle in the episode that just aired, and he was just horrendous,” Uncle Boon Chong continued. “He couldn’t remember where to stand, and he kept staring straight into the camera. Then he tripped over air. There was literally nothing there and he tripped over it anyway. It would have been funny if I hadn’t been on the verge of having a heart attack.”
“Hurm. He seemed really upset when he found out the script was missing,” Nazhar said, pushing his glasses up. “If he is that bad an actor, it had to be real, right, Sherlock?”
I nodded. “That’s true. Now what about this Shukri everyone keeps talking about?”
