Struggle Toward Extinction

By Tan Kheng Yeang

Brother and sister Ban Siew and Chye Hoon work at a resort hotel owned by their father, in Penang, Malaysia. Both enjoy and are dedicated to their work, but their personal lives are another story.

Ban Siew struggles in a stormy marriage to Gaik Choo, plagued by his wifes coldness and infidelities. His hopes to salvage their tattered union quickly dim. Heartbroken and humiliated, he is faced with a life-changing decision. Meanwhile, Chye Hoon is married to Jin Tek, an up-and-coming executive in the property-development business. Although not completely unhappy in her marriage, Chye Hoon feels neglected and lonely as her husband relentlessly pursues his career. When she meets a handsome young man named Boo Hong in the hotel restaurant that she managed, their attraction is undeniable. Torn between two worlds, Chye Hoon must make a choice that will inevitably bring heartbreak and pain. Her husband, oblivious to his wifes struggles, continues his meteoric rise in real estate, unaware that a clash with squatters may soon bring unexpected and deadly consequences to his family.

In this thrilling family saga, a brother and sister deal with unfulfilling marriages and business conflicts that may threaten their familys fortuneand their lives.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Trafford Publishing
• Release date: Nov 25, 2015
• ISBN: 9781490767161

Tan Kheng Yeang

Tan Kheng Yeang was born in a country called British Malaya, now part of Malaysia. After studying civil engineering at the University of Hong Kong, he enjoyed a lengthy career as an engineer in the City Council of Georgetown, Penang. Since his retirement, he has worked as an engineering consultant and has published twelve books.

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

The Meeting

E nsconced behind his desk, Toh Jin Tek appraised the visitor seated in front of him. He was a fat man who appeared intelligent but obstinate.

You have a piece of land adjacent to our development project, said Jin Tek with the decisive air of one who knew what he wanted. Our company’s interested in it.

Is that so? said the fat man. What do you want to do with it?

Develop it, of course, said Jin Tek. We intend to extend our present housing scheme which, as you may hear, is in an advanced state of progress.

I’m not sure that I want to sell the land, said the fat man with a frown. It’s a coconut plantation which secures quite a good income. It has been with me for many years, and I’ve come to like it.

We’ll pay you a high price.

Land has shot up a lot in value.

We’re not thinking of last year’s prices, said Jin Tek. We heard you’re a good businessman, and we’re not trying to impose on you.

The fat man looked pleased. I’ll have to think it over.

When can you give me a reply? asked Jin Tek, suppressing a trace of anxiety that was trying to infiltrate his voice.

Give me a week, said the fat man. I’m really reluctant to part with the property. He looked wistful.

You can’t keep it a coconut plantation forever, expostulated Jin Tek. You know there is a housing shortage in the country. We’re helping people to own their own house. He spoke as though he were a public benefactor.

There are squatters on the land, the fat man suddenly recalled. They’ll refuse to move. They have to live somewhere.

They can’t stand in the way of progress, asseverated Jin Tek. We’re prepared to negotiate with them. We’ll offer them adequate compensation.

Are you going to offer them alternative accommodation?

We may even have to consider that.

Why do you want to extend your present scheme instead of building in other areas?

Our houses in this particular area are selling well. However, we’re also looking at other places.

I have other properties of considerable extent, said the fat man.

You have! exclaimed Jin Tek, vastly interested. Why are you keeping them? This is the time for development.

I’ve thought of being a developer, said the fat man regretfully, but I have no experience.

Jin Tek thought awhile. I have a proposition to make. You turn over your properties to our company in exchange for shares in it. We’ll work out the prices of your properties and fix the value of each share. Our company is an expanding concern, and you can’t fail to profit from the deal.

I’ll consider it, said the fat man indecisively. This is an important proposition. I presume there are pros and cons. I can’t rush into it. I need time to come to a decision. He rose and took his departure, walking with ponderous slowness.

Jin Tek was thirty-two years old. He was lean and athletic. He wore a blue shirt with a striped tie and gray trousers fastened by a belt. He was decisive in his manner and moved about with brisk steps. He exuded energy and tended to create in people an impression of smartness. He normally looked affable and behaved in like fashion, but he could be ruthless if it suited his interest.

His dominating characteristic was ambition. He was driven by a thirst for power and wealth, with the former in the ascendant. Even when he was still in school, he liked to secure a position of leadership by getting himself made president or secretary of various societies. He was subtly aggressive and possessed a knack for persuading people to his views. He relished the struggle for existence and found life boring without it. He loved not just the fruits of success but the process of their acquisition. He found business to be the realm most congenial to his temperament whenever he could enjoy the struggle and the resulting wealth and power.

The road to success had been fairly smooth hitherto, and accordingly, he had no cause to question the rightness of his philosophy of life. He had unbounded faith in himself and was quite convinced that whatever he did was right. Secretly, he harbored a low opinion of others. He also tended to believe that their ways, if different from his, were wrong. Thus, he was quite satisfied with life and found the world eminently meaningful.

He began his career as a civil engineer. He graduated from an Australian university, where he did fairly well but not brilliantly. Back in Malaysia, he joined a firm in Kuala Lumpur, where he found himself in the marketing department. He became interested in business. He left after a couple of years and joined a development company in Penang. At first, he was engaged firmly in engineering work, looking after the construction of buildings. In his capacity as an engineer, he was required to attend meetings of the board of directors. Here, he occasionally made suggestions that had more to do with business than engineering. The chairman of the board recognized his abilities, and it did not take very long for him to be made manager of the company. Subsequently, he was elected a member of the board and became managing director of the firm.

The company, which bore the name of Summit Enterprise Company, was only a small concern formed a couple of years prior to Jin Tek’s joining it. Mainly owing to his efforts, it had now expanded and established itself as of major importance on the local scene. The buildings constructed, including detached and semi-detached houses as well as terrace houses all of one or two stories, were popular. The attraction to clients was that the firm had established a finance company from which they could obtain loans to pay for their purchases.

On that day, after the departure of his fat visitor, he resumed his interrupted work. But while he performed it mechanically, his mind was actually largely preoccupied with something else. He was contemplating his great plans for the diversification of the company into other lines of activity. There was no reason why he should be concerned only with property development. He could form or acquire subsidiary companies. Eventually, he would lead a building company that could be turned into a public company listed on the stock exchange and with varied interests throughout the country. He saw no limits to his dream. He relished the idea of being a great tycoon.

That evening, a meeting of the board of directors was to be held. Most of the meetings were humdrum affairs; however, he enjoyed them just as he found everything connected with business enthralling. He relished the exchange of ideas. He felt satisfaction when people argued with him. He even found opposition not disagreeable; it made him think harder, invigorated his mind, and aroused his emotions in a lively way. It suited him quite well to sit at a table discussing what, to him, were matters of profound importance. A conference had its humorous and dramatic moments.

He looked at the clock on the wall opposite him, rose from his chair, and went to the boardroom, which bore an appearance of solid comfort. On its walls hung some photographs and charts. The members of the board were seated around an oblong table in the middle of the room. An office assistant went round taking orders for drinks, which were duly served shortly thereafter.

The chairman, Cheah Gi Chean, was about fifty years old. He wore hearing aids, was bandy-legged, and in possession of a comical paunch. He was of a friendly nature, an easygoing disposition, and was well liked by his colleagues and staff. He was not a dynamic character, but he did business well enough.

The meeting began on a ludicrous note. The chairman had uttered hardly a dozen words in his introductory remarks when a fat man, so tremendously corpulent that he elicited notice wherever he went, on bending forward to take his drink, accidentally overturned his cup, which rolled onto his lap and then onto the ground with a clattering sound. In trying to get up, he pushed back his chair and landed on the floor with a thump. Two other members, one on either side of him, immediately dragged him up.

The proceedings recommenced after the mess was cleaned up by the office assistant. The chairman spoke of the satisfactory progress of the company for the past six months and praised everyone, from the members of the board to the staff, for this happy state of affairs. He lavished special eulogies on the managing director for his untiring efforts, great awareness, and remarkable initiative. The members of the board duly applauded despite whatever they might have individually felt in their thoughts. Jin Tek smiled with mock modesty.

Continuing, the chairman stated, In business, a company needs to expand. If it tried to stay stationary, it would instead become retrograde. There’s a lot of competition around, and to be overtaken by one’s rivals is not a pleasant prospect. We’ve been quite successful so far, but we should consider ways of achieving greater progress. Please put forward your views.

The company is prosperous enough, said a man with a mole on his nose. We should maintain it as it is. We shouldn’t be too ambitious. If we make a false move, we may land ourselves in bankruptcy. We should be very cautious before we undertake any new enterprise. I think it’s best to leave things as they are.

I consider progress desirable, a short man asserted with apparent conviction. In the modern world, the watchword is progress. Things change all the time. If we look around us, we find the town is not the same as it was a decade ago. There are new streets and new buildings.

I agree that some improvements now and then aren’t objectionable, said a bald-headed man. But we shouldn’t go in for drastic changes that are unsettling. Moderation in all things is the best policy. He assumed the expression of a philosopher dedicated to the golden mean.

Silence fell on the room for a few moments before the fat man said in a slow, deliberate tone, Mr. Chairman, let us hear your plans for expansion first before we decide what to do.

All eyes turned to the speaker as though he had uttered an oracle.

That’s a reasonable suggestion, said the short man.

The chairman looked embarrassed. To tell the truth, I haven’t got any. I was hoping that the members would advance their views.

The gentlemen present looked at one another.

Then the managing director spoke briskly and confidently.

The company should not confine itself to property development. It should branch out into other activities. For a start, we could form or acquire a concrete products company engaged in the manufacture of pipes, bricks, and precast concrete slabs. This company would deal in its own right and augment the profits of the parent company. Furthermore, in our housing projects, we could make use of its products to our advantage. As time goes on, we could acquire other companies in similar or other kinds of work. Our company would not be located in Penang. Eventually, we’d have a conglomerate of companies straddling the country under the control of a building company.

The members, including the chairman, were struck dumb with surprise. The clock on the wall ticked away a full three minutes.

This is absurd! exclaimed the man with the mole. This overweening ambition is the road to ruin. He shut his eyes in distress.

The scheme is too big, said the bald-headed man. Our business is property development, and we should stick to it.

I’m not so sure, said the fat man. The scheme may be feasible. We should consider it seriously.

The plan is undesirable, said a man who sported a mustache. He had never liked Jin Tek and wanted to oppose him. The company hasn’t been in existence for many years, and we’re not firmly on our feet yet.

We’re well established, said the chairman. The managing director’s ideas are undoubtedly ambitious, but he has always succeeded in what he thought should be done. I don’t suppose we’re averse to running a very big company and being tremendously rich. He laughed at his mild joke.

The chairman is right, said the short man. I’m all for expansion and diversification. I see no reason for timidity and lack of enterprise.

Have we the funds to start a concrete products company? asked the fat man.

The chairman called upon the treasurer to give a statement of the financial position.

We have ample funds, commented the chairman in a satisfied voice.

I wasn’t thinking of setting up a new firm, said the managing director slowly. I was considering the acquisition of an existing company. It takes a lot of time to start an enterprise. It’s easier just to run a company that’s already in operation. It’s also not necessary to spend cash to make an acquisition. We can offer the owners shares in our company in settlement of the purchase price.

The members were struck dumb for the second time.

Then the mustached man exploded. This is the limit! Which fool is going to give away his company for free? He was heavily sarcastic.

No one is giving away anything for free, said Jin Tek patiently. The owners are merely exchanging their company for shares in another.

But why should they do such a thing? demanded the mustached man. What’s wrong with owning and running their own company? Isn’t that better than merely owning shares in another of which they know nothing?

There are several causes for people wishing to take such action, said Jin Tek. They may prefer to merge a small company with a big one. Their company may be stagnant and getting nowhere. They may be suffering losses and are only too glad to get rid of it. Anyway, such transactions are far from being uncommon.

I’ve heard of such transactions, said the bald-headed man in a reflective tone. He was not averse to being associated with a bigger company if it cost him no fresh financial outlay.

This mode of expansion is a brilliant idea, answered the short man enthusiastically. What firm have you got in mind to acquire? He addressed this to Jin Tek.

I haven’t a definite one in mind, said Jin Tek. If the board authorizes me, then I’ll look around for something suitable.

There’s a snag in all this, said the mustached man. The owners aren’t likely to be content with just relinquishing their firm for shares in a company in which they have no say. Won’t they demand representation on the board?

That all depends, said Jin Tek. Should they ask, I think there’s no harm in giving them a seat or two.

Different views were advanced about this problem.

To press his advantage home, the mustached man said mischievously, If you acquire a concern bigger than ours, the new shareholders may have even more shares than ours and may end up owning and running our company. That doesn’t seem a glorious prospect.

Consternation fell on the members.

That isn’t what we would like, said the man with the mole. I don’t suppose the chairman wants to retire.

The chairman looked irritated. I’m sure that’s not what the managing director proposes.

I don’t intend to acquire a company bigger than ours, said Jin Tek, casting a slightly withering glance at the mustached man. We’ll look for one relatively much smaller, maybe belonging to just one person. Instead of its owners controlling our company, we’ll appoint our people to sit on its board of directors and control it. It’s also not necessary for us to purchase the company in its entirety. Depending on its capital and the sale price, we may acquire only part of it. As long as we own more than 50 percent of its stock, it becomes our subsidiary. We can get a company that’s not of consequence and by reorganizing it turn it into a valuable asset.

That sounds like a grand proposition! enthused the short man. I’m all for it.

The execution of such a measure betokens exceptional talent, chimed in the fat man.

Or exceptional stupidity on the part of the vendor, said the mustached man petulantly. I don’t believe the scheme will materialize.

It certainly sounds too good to be true, added the man with the mole. I really don’t take to ventures that aren’t likely to prove meritorious. Instead of getting more prosperous, we’ll just lose everything we have.

You seem very pessimistic, said the chairman. As I recall, you raised objections and made dire predictions when we formed the financial company.

The man with the mole looked abashed. That was a comparatively small enterprise. I don’t remember being opposed to it.

I propose that we empower the managing director to look around for a suitable concrete products company, embark on the requisite negotiations, and report to the board on the outcome of his efforts, said the chairman.

He asked each member in turn whether they agreed to the proposal and all gave their assent, even the mustached man, although he did so reluctantly.

The meeting then passed on to consider other matters that need not be chronicled. It concluded with a note of thanks to the chair, whatever for was not explicitly stated.

CHAPTER 2

At Home

J in Tek lived in a bungalow located near the seashore off the Tanjung Bungah Road. It was a double-story house set in a well-kept garden. The lawn was mown smooth, and the hibiscus hedge was trimmed to an even height. The asphalt driveway gleamed black in the sun, and there was no hint of any crack or pothole. There were a couple of tall jackfruit trees, which besides providing delicious fruit, gave welcome shade from the sun’s piercing rays. Flowering plants, the taller ones growing from the ground and the smaller in boxes and pots, were widely spread and endowed the place with freshness and beauty.

The external walls of the house were painted white, while the doors and windows were light green. Inside, each room had its own color scheme, but the predominant impression was a restful blue. The ground floor was paved with terrazzo tiles while the ceiling was of hardboard. The bedrooms were on the upper story, the flooring of which was constituted of polished teak. Ceiling fans or air conditioners were installed in the rooms upstairs and downstairs. The furniture was modern and made for comfort and elegance. Carpets of varied designs lay in profusion.

The doors and windows were hung with embroidered curtains. On the walls, paintings by local artists displayed their esthetic worth or lack of it. Modern facilities like refrigerators and washing machines were, of course, not lacking. Home entertainment, whether of the auditory or visual kind, was much in evidence.

In fact, it was a comfortable home. Returning from the office that evening, Jin Tek parked his car in the carport and on entering the house was greeted by his daughter, aged five. She had been given a name whose pronunciation in Chinese resembled the English word lily and was usually called Lily by her parents. His wife, Ong Chye Hoon, was upstairs and came down upon hearing his voice.

You’re late, she remarked, merely by way of conversation and without any specific intent.

I had a meeting at the office, he replied mechanically. Those fellows were long-winded.

He had been married seven years. He had known his wife since their teens, for their respective parents had been friends and had been on frequent visiting terms. Although he had known her a long time, he did not see her much or was particularly interested in her until a few months before their marriage. At first, they had a happy life together, but imperceptibly, they settled down to a humdrum relationship. He was more interested in his work than in his family. He was aware, however, that he was neglecting her.

On the other hand, she did not consider there was anything unsatisfactory in their relationship. She had a pleasant life with her clique of relatives and friends, parties, mah-jongg, and work. She was the manager of a restaurant in a hotel owned by her father. Her work was far from strenuous; she had capable and energetic assistants to execute the requisite tasks. In her twenty-eight years, she had not undergone any traumatic experience. Life to her was little more than play of a fascinating character.

That evening, Jin Tek had no particular place to go, so he spent it at home. Their dinner was quite substantial for he had always relished his food. He had at the table only his wife and child, and they partook of four dishes—fish curry, chicken fried with spring onion, vegetables of three varieties fried with shrimp and pork, and bean curd soup. He was not given to drinking except at parties; his beverage was aerated water.

As for Chye Hoon, to keep her figure slim, she did not eat much.

She spent as much time fussing over the child as attending to her own plate. The meal was prepared by the servant, and she hardly knew how to cook. But she was vastly knowledgeable on the subject of calories and the value or otherwise of each item of food. Jin Tek, on the other hand, appraised food principally on the basis of its palatability to him personally. He was not bothered whether it contained too much salt or sugar or cholesterol or too little of any of the many vitamins or minerals. He just ate whatever he liked, and the comestibles he enjoyed most were those he relished in his boyhood.

How was business today? asked Jin Tek just to make conversation.

Unusually good, replied Chye Hoon. People came to book the hall for dinner parties for a couple of Saturdays two months from now. The restaurant was packed at lunchtime. Things went smoothly without any trouble.

The eighth month of the lunar calendar comes in two months’ time. That’s a popular month for weddings. The restaurant will be fully booked for wedding feasts.

Why do people have to confine marriages to certain months? I know they consider such months propitious. But are they?

It’s hard to say, replied Jin Tek judiciously. It’s our traditional belief. It may be true. It may be false. But what harm is there in following an accepted practice? I suppose people just don’t consider it worthwhile to flout it.

I daresay so, agreed Chye Hoon. We have a great many customs that we hardly ever question. People follow them as a matter of course.

They ended the meal with some sweet, juicy slices of papaya and then adjourned to the living room, where Jin Tek turned on the television, keeping the sound fairly low.

Before long, a neighbor dropped in with his wife and two small children.

After the preliminaries were over, the adults sat for a chat. The television was not switched off. The children faded away to a corner to play.

There’s little to see on television nowadays, commented Mr. Thuan, the neighbor. It seems to get worse every day. He sighed regretfully.

I prefer to see videos of shows produced in Hong Kong, chimed in Mrs. Thuan. These stories shown on Hong Kong television in serial form can be bought here in as a set of videos. We have the pleasure of spending many hours following the development of the story. The tale is so interesting with its numerous characters, its various strands, its twists and turns, its passions and conflicts.

What kind of films are those? asked Jin Tek, not because he was interested but just to make conversation. Kung fu films?

Not necessarily, replied Mrs. Thuan. The films are principally of two types. One deals with Chinese history and displays a lot of kung fu. The other consists of what resembles Western soap operas with the setting in present-day Hong Kong. I prefer the latter.

While I go more for the kung fu, stated Mr. Thuan. There’s a lot of action in these shows. Nothing is more boring than seeing a film with tons of dialogue.

Don’t tell me you’re learning kung fu! said Jin Tek banteringly.

No, laughed Mr. Thuan. I just like to watch it on the screen as a form of entertainment. It’s thrilling to see two individuals or groups skillfully trading blows and kicks and displaying all sorts of skills.

There’s a good deal of savagery and bloodshed too, Chye Hoon said, shuddering. I can’t say I enjoy such stuff.

The gory scenes are only thinly dispersed through most pictures. There’s the interest of the stories, commented Mrs. Thuan with the smile of the connoisseur.

Comparing the cinema, video, and television, said Jin Tek, I still prefer to go and spend a couple of hours seeing a movie. I don’t have to bother about seeing the next episode in a serial or next show in a series as is the case with television.

I suppose each has its advantages, remarked Mr. Thuan. In the case of television and video, one can sit at home at any time instead of lining up to get a seat in a crowded cinema.

The video is better than television, affirmed Mrs. Thuan, as one can see any particular show one likes at any convenient time instead of depending on the whim of the television station to screen whatever it thinks fit.

Going to the cinema is just like going to a party, said Chye Hoon brightly. Seeing the television or video resembles taking a meal at home. Each has its good points.

They all laughed with real or assumed mirth.

Talking of food, said Mrs. Thuan after a pause, we’re getting more and more restaurants in town. There’s also a greater variety of Chinese cuisine. We now have Cantonese, Hakka, Hokkien, Shanghai, Peking, Szechuan, Teochew, Hainanese, Hunan, and Nyonya. It’s a real treat to partake of each.

Some of these kinds we’ve had before, remarked Chye Hoon. Of the new arrivals, I like Szechuan food best. It’s pungent with chili. My favorite is pepper chicken.

I prefer Peking duck, stated Mr. Thuan. How delicious the pieces of crisp brown skin taste eaten with unleavened buns, spring onions, and hoisin sauce! His eyes glinted reminiscently.

Though the more recent eateries are appealing, said Jin Tek in a judicious manner, the one to which we have been accustomed, the Cantonese, is still the best. It’s mild and comparatively free from salt and grease. The natural flavor, be it of vegetables or meat, is preserved by the technique of cooking lightly.

We also have new restaurants selling Malay, Indonesian, Indian, Japanese, Thai, and Western food, added Mr. Thuan. My taste is quite cosmopolitan, and I can enjoy every style of cuisine.

It’s all right going to them once in a while, replied Jin Tek. But I wouldn’t like eating any of these kinds daily for any length of time.

Quite right, stated Mrs. Thuan. When all is said and done, the food that we’ve been in the habit of eating at home since childhood is the best.

They all nodded in agreement. After a pause, Mr. Thuan remarked, There are also a number of new luxury hotels, especially in the Batu Ferringhi area adjacent to the beach. I hear another one will start construction soon. I wonder whether there will be enough tourists to occupy them.

The government is promoting tourism. If the hotels weren’t viable, they would presumably not be built, responded Jin Tek.

Businessmen often make miscalculations, said Mr. Thuan. The running costs of a hotel are excessive, and I believe many give poor returns in spite of the high room rates. He addressed Chye Hoon. Is the hotel owned by your father earning good profits?

Chye Hoon was evasive. I don’t know. I never asked him. She laughed merrily.

These hotels are supposed to go in for luxury, commented Mrs. Thuan. Wall-to-wall carpeting and central air-conditioning, comfortable lounges, shopping arcades and swimming pools, several restaurants each devoted to one particular national cuisine, music, television and a telephone in every room, and twenty-four-hour room service. No wonder the charges are high. People have to pay for what they want, she concluded sagely.

Talking of tourism, said Mr. Thuan, it’s doubtful whether it’s such a good thing.

Why? asked Chye Hoon. What can be wrong with it? It earns foreign exchange. Almost every country tries to promote it.

It’s a parasite industry, responded Mr. Thuan, emphasizing the opprobrious epithet. A genuine industry should produce goods. In this one, all that is done is to devise entertainment for foreigners.

Isn’t that a service? Chye Hoon asked, smiling. Providing recreational amusement is highly regarded in the case of the theater. Giving people pleasure isn’t wrong.

Is it always right? argued Mr. Thuan. What about prostitution?

Mrs. Thuan looked at her husband. It’s shocking to hear you talk like that!

Sorry, responded Mr. Thuan. But I really don’t take to tourism. The people who benefit directly are tour agents, hoteliers, transport operators, and vendors selling certain categories of articles. The general level of prices tends to rise, making the cost of living for the average resident higher. Some of his former amenities become troublesome to secure. It is annoying to find one’s sacred places and revered customs regarded by the gaping tourist as oddities to satisfy idle curiosity. Tourists with cameras grate on my nerves.

Laughter greeted his last remark.

Have you ever gone on a tour? asked Chye Hoon.

Only once, to Thailand, was the reply. I didn’t like it, and I don’t intend to go anywhere anymore.

There is one thing about tourism that I think is good, said Jin Tek. People come to learn about the ways of other races firsthand, and this makes for understanding and tolerance.

I’m not so sure of that, retorted Mr. Thuan obstinately. In quite a number of countries, people of different races or cultures live together, and instead of tolerance, there is civil war or persecution. Between countries, the worst enemies are neighbors, who could be expected to be well acquainted with one another, rather than countries far apart.

I don’t know whether tourism is beneficial from a public point of view or not, Chye Hoon said, laughing, but I should think it’s a pleasure visiting a foreign country.

A pause ensued. On the television, a crime drama was unfolding its story. A criminal had taken refuge in a house and was holding a woman hostage. The place was surrounded by the police; and steps were being taken to storm it, to capture the desperado, while ensuring the safety of his innocent victim.

I consider it cowardly, remarked Mrs. Thuan as she watched the screen, for a villain to seize an innocent person and use her as a shield to protect himself.

A villain will do any frightful thing, responded Chye Hoon. I should think that a really brave man would be a hero and not a villain. Bullies are said to be cowards. Presumably, those who prey on others are likewise the same.

Nowadays, crime has become far too common, commented Mr. Thuan. Unfortunately, we like not only to view imaginary stuff on the screen but also to read about real cases in the newspapers. I think this is disgraceful.

The newspapers are given mainly to sensational news, said Jin Tek. It’s a moot point whether they are so because the public want it or whether they prefer it and the public just read what’s offered.

That’s the same problem with the screen, commented Mr. Thuan. Is it leading or following the public? Do its crime stories influence behavior, or is it forced to deal in bloodshed because the public want it that way?

It’s strange, this fascination with violence, mused Chye Hoon with a pretended shudder. If mayhem were confined to television, it might not matter much. Unluckily, in real life, it’s far too common. All the time we read of robbery, rape, kidnapping, and murder.

I don’t know what the police are doing, harrumphed Mrs. Thuan indignantly. They’re good for nothing.

The police are certainly by no means a wonderful lot, said Mr. Thuan slowly. At the same time, there have always been and always will be evil people.

The police aren’t to blame for the existence of criminals, responded Jin Tek. What’s annoying about them is their ineffectiveness. You remember two days ago at eleven in the morning, four robbers burst into a goldsmith’s shop, shot dead two people, broke the glass showcases, and made off with half a million dollars’ worth of jewelry. This was all executed within a few minutes, and the police station was just around the corner of the street. No arrests have been made.

The boldness of villains is truly remarkable, added Mrs. Thuan. "One of the worst crimes is rape. We hear of cases all the