Over the next few weeks, I took a more careful, retrospective approach to my detective work. I know what you're thinking; this isn't normally how I operate such plans. But considering phase one didn't go how I wanted it to, I figured I should shake things up a bit. Plus, I've seen Adam often approach his problems this way. By sitting, thinking, and observing, he always seemed to get his issues solved. What works for him, should work for me as well.
The only problem I had now was that all those really odd things seemed to come to an abrupt halt. I was getting frustrated and was just about to give up when I got my next lead.
Once again the rest of my family was away from the house leaving me alone with Hop Sing. Funny, or should I say lucky, how my brothers and Pa always seem to disappear at times like this, yet they're the first to scold me when I get buried up to my head in some scheme. Maybe if they'd stick around the ranch a bit more, I wouldn't get myself into so much trouble. That's my thinking anyway…and the reason why I don't blame myself one bit for all the trouble I find myself in.
Anyways, I was sitting on the settee braiding a new lead rope for Cochise when I heard Hop Sing mumbling in the kitchen. No, this wasn't the shouting like before with the fire, it was basically incomprehensible words. Normally this wouldn't be such an odd occurrence. Hop Sing is Chinese and while he knows enough English to get his point across, he sometimes reverts back to his native tongue. To be honest, I don't even know if he knows he does it as it often happens when he's upset or stressed. Over the years, though, I've picked up a few Cantonese phrases and words.
However this time, I couldn't recognize any of the words coming from the kitchen. They didn't sound like Chinese at all. I also knew a little French from when my Mama was still alive. Still, these didn't sound like that language either.
I put my half-finished project to the side and walked into the dining room so I could listen easier. A few more unintelligible words came out of Hop Sing's mouth before I heard the side door rattle open and then close with a soft click. I peered around the corner to the kitchen and out the small window. Hop Sing had made his way to the garden and was preparing to do some weeding and more than likely pick some vegetables for our dinner.
I tiptoed into the tiny kitchen to snoop around for any evidence of what had happened only moments before. I probably didn't have to be so stealthy; no one was around to catch me. It just seemed like the proper action for a detective in training.
I made it over to where Hop Sing had left a mixing bowl on the counter with several jars pulled out. Most of them appeared to be normal. You know sage, pepper, salt, cinnamon. The normal spices and herbs. But something caught my eye.
There was one cupboard that Hop Sing normally kept locked and we were told never to open that particular cupboard, but today it was open. I always assumed it was some dangerous spice that he had to make sure none of us overly wild boys would stumble upon. But spices are supposed to go in food, right? If it was dangerous, we probably wouldn't be able to eat it. Thinking back to my original thoughts about what lay behind that cupboard door now seemed implausible. Hey! Look at me acing this investigation!
As with all good detectives, curiosity got the better of me and I peeked inside the open door. Technically, I wasn't breaking any rules. The cupboard was already open. What I found was not what I expected at all. The first jar I saw was frog legs. It was unusual but I've read about rich people eating such a delicacy before, so it didn't set off any alarm bells inside my head.
As I scanned to the right, there were jars of bat spleens, crushed bugs, eel and pufferfish eyes, and vials of various feathers from birds I've never heard of before. As I began to examine the second row of mysterious ingredients I nearly knocked over a bottle of ground unicorn horn. I was one hundred percent positive unicorns weren't real so those alarm bells were definitely going off now. Why in the world would Hop Sing have ingredients such as these? Surely, he wouldn't put crushed beetles in our food and I'd never heard of anyone, even those fancy Europeans, eating eel.
Bingo! There on the counter was one of Hop Sing's cookbooks. I pulled it closer, hoping it would answer all my questions. I was just about to flip through the pages when I heard some shuffling of gravel outside. I glanced behind me out the window again to only realize Hop Sing wasn't in the garden anymore. I closed the book quickly, shoving it under my shirt, and started to make my escape out of the small room.
It's amazing how small a place can be, yet it seems to take forever to get out of the room. Sure enough, that was exactly how it felt to me as I didn't get out of the room in time.
"What little boy doing in kitchen?"
I stopped short at Hop Sing's question and slowly turned around, praying he wouldn't notice the cookbook under my shirt.
Adam had once told me he could tell when I'm lying because I wouldn't make eye contact with him, so I made a deliberate point to look the little Chinese man in the eyes before responding.
"Just checking to see what's for dinner."
I saw him eye the open cupboard and I held my breath. He must not have seen anything out of place or noticed the missing cookbook as he only nodded before closing the short distance between the two of us.
"You best stay out of Hop Sing's kitchen."
I quickly nodded my head and turned to leave, relieved he didn't notice the missing book. One swat from Hop Sing's wooden spoon propelled me out of the room as I eagerly headed for the stairs and the safety of my room to get a better look at that cookbook. As of right now, I had more questions than answers and hopefully that book contained the key to my investigation.