As I headed for the exit and the limo, I stuck my head back into the green room. ‘Tell them you’re not going on,’ I advised Cantona, who’s put on a bit of weight since he quit playing, ‘unless they give you a proper chair. There’s no chance of you fitting into that one out there.’
24
I don’t know why the hell I did all that, but it felt good. I suppose it was my way of getting my own back for the nonsense that had been happening to me since I arrived in Singapore. Or maybe I did it to take my mind off the prospect of shelling out fifty thousand bucks to a blackmailing bitch when I could simply have waited for a couple of days in the likelihood that the bad people would take her out of Harvey’s hair, and out of everything else.
I was about to step into the stretch Honda when I heard a shout. ‘Hey, Oz.’
I turned and there was Sammy heading towards me. ‘Didn’t you fancy the Frenchman?’ I asked.
‘They didnae fancy me any more,’ he replied, with a satisfied smile. ‘The boy on the floor asked me tae leave. He said Ah’d upset Mr Mai. Ah’m barred for life, as well.’
‘You’ll be pleased with yourself, in that case. Being barred from places is a badge of honour for you Weegies. Won’t that get you into bother at work, though?’
He laughed. ‘Oz, pal, the money Ah make for that bank, nothing short of bein’ arrested for murder is going to get me intae bother.’ He tapped the roof of the limo; the driver frowned but said nothing. ‘Any chance of a lift?’
‘Sure, where do you want to go?’
‘Back tae your hotel will do fine. I can get a taxi from there. I’m going down to Harry’s bar.’
‘In the Esplanade complex?’ I’d noticed a pub sign that morning.
‘Naw, the one on Boat Quay. There’s a few Harrys now; one at the airport, even.’ I held the limo door open for him, then followed him inside. ‘Hey,’ he exclaimed, when he saw the booze compartment, ‘is that self-service? ’
‘It is now,’ I told him, taking a 7-Up, as he chose a Grolsch.
He nudged my elbow as we pulled out into the traffic. ‘Ah see you’ve got yourself fixed up for later on,’ he murmured, or came as close to murmuring as a Glaswegian can.
‘Don’t read anything into that,’ I warned him. ‘I met her this morning down at the theatre. She works there.’
‘Ah’m saying nothing, Oz.’
‘Keep it that way.’
‘Trust me. Wish it was me, though. A right tasty lass, she looked.’ He winked at me, then forgot his promise to say nothing. ‘You’re sure of yourself, trying there. If you crack her I’ll bet you’re the first. If that’s what bein’ a movie star gets you I wish Ah was one.’
He really was a cheeky bastard. ‘Actually, Sammy,’ I said, ‘I’m going exploring first. Ever heard of a pub called the Next Page?’
‘Oh, aye. There’s two of them, down near Robertson Quay, the Front Page and then the Next Page, side by side. The Next Page used to be a couple of doors up, but it moved and got smartened up. That was a while back.’
‘How long have you been here, Sammy?’ I asked. ‘In Sing, I mean.’
‘Eight years. Ah came out when Ah was twenty-one. There was nothing for me in Glasgow, except unemployment and maybe the jail.’
‘Do you still have folks there?’
‘My mother, my sister and two nephews.’
‘Do you ever see them?’
He took a pull of his beer. ‘Ah go home every couple of years. Ah could get a job there now, or in Edinburgh, but Ah like the life out here. Ah’m a resident now.’
I found myself wondering if there was a woman in his life, but I held myself back from asking. I didn’t want to get too involved in the background of a guy I’d probably never see again.
The limo pulled up outside the Stamford. I wished him luck as we parted, and watched him head for the side door that takes you direct from the foyer into the Raffles City Mall, and on to the MRT.
Dylan was waiting for me up in the New Asia bar. We ordered a dozen mixed satays each, not knowing whether we’d have time to eat later. ‘That was a performance,’ he said, as we waited for them to arrive.
‘How do you know? You had a job to do, remember?’
‘And it’s done, don’t worry, but I still had time to catch your local TV debut.’
‘What did you think?’
‘I thought you were arrogant, aggressive, and a touch conceited, but very funny. What’s it worth for me not to tell Susie about the girl?’
‘There’ll be nothing to tell, but it’ll cost you plenty if you do. Blue Star Falling will never get made.’
‘Bastard. Has she got a mate?’
‘Ask her yourself. You can come with us to the City Space if you like.’
‘We’ll see when the time comes. We’ve got somewhere else to go first.’
‘We? I’m going on my own.’
He shook his head firmly. ‘No, you’re not. This might be the safest city in the world, and you might be more than capable of handling yourself in a bundle, but you’re carrying fifty large to a meeting with a dodgy woman who’s on the run from one of the deadliest criminal organisations in the world. You can make the trade yourself, but on the way there you’re having a minder, and that’s that.’
I blinked: it had been a while since anyone other than my wife had laid down the law to me. ‘Okay,’ I said. ‘If it makes you happy you can chum me, but when we get there you wait outside.’
‘That’s not going to happen either. How well do you know this woman? Not at all: she gave you a rabbit-in-the-headlights act and you took it at face value. I know this part of the world, Oz: I spent a few dark years up in Thailand after the Amsterdam thing. Singapore might be more ordered and civilised, but it’s still Asia and all sorts of things can happen here. If you want proof of that, this friendly place executes more people per million population than any other country in the world, although they’re careful never to publish the statistics. What if you’re the target here, not her? The Triads get up to many things, and kidnap for ransom is one of them. You’re rich and you’re high-profile.’
‘That’s probably why I’m safe,’ I pointed out. ‘If these people are as secretive as it seems, they won’t want the publicity that would come from snatching me. But if you want to make sure, you can come in with me. You really did dump that thing in the river, didn’t you?’
Eventually he convinced me that he had; by then we had finished the satays, and it was time to head for my meeting with Maddy. I picked up the money from the safe; it was in a mix of twenties and fifties, too bulky for an envelope so I packed it into a small tote bag that I had bought for the purpose in the Raffles City Mall.
The Stamford doorman found us a taxi, and as usual got himself a ten-dollar tip in the process. The cab had barely pulled away before I found myself focusing on what I was about to do. I was going to buy Harvey’s peace of mind, then abandon a woman to her fate, which could well turn out to be a very grisly death.
‘Should I be doing more here, Mike?’ I said quietly. The radio was on loud, so I wasn’t worried about the driver overhearing; he was a big sullen Indian bloke who hadn’t smiled, who had been singularly unhelpful until the doorman had given him a hard word, and who was getting fuck-all tip from me at the end of the trip, which I realised very early was going to be longer than it need have been. ‘Should I be doing more to help her?’
‘Why? She’s a blackmailer.’
‘Yes, I know, but she’s a. . she’s a woman!’
‘Let’s get specific here: she’s a white woman, and some nasty Asian gangsters want to kill her. If she was a Filipina housemaid you probably wouldn’t give a toss.’
‘Hey, that’s not true!’ I protested.
‘Maybe not entirely,’ he conceded, ‘but you wouldn’t feel as strongly; you’d probably think it was a shame but too bad, she’s caught up in something within her own culture. This Madeleine woman, she’s done something stupid. . she’s upset people in a cu
lture she doesn’t understand.’
‘So I let them kill her?’
‘How are you going to stop them? You being famous doesn’t count for anything in this situation.’
‘I know, but there must be something I can do.’
Dylan sighed and tapped his chest. ‘You know, mate, somewhere deep in here I’m still a police officer. Corrupt, yes, beyond redemption, yes, but I’m still a copper. The only thing you can do is the same as Maddy should have done in the first place. She should have gone to the police: someone who can identify a top Triad member would be very valuable to them. She’d be under their protection, and she’d probably be helped out by Interpol and the DEA as well, just as I was. She’d probably turn up in Greenwich Village as Mrs Benny Luker,’ he added, mournfully
Even in the circumstances, I had to laugh at that. ‘The couple from hell,’ I said. ‘I’d hate to live next door.’
‘I don’t have a next door. I live in a loft: I have an up and a down.’
‘In truth, Mike, I’d hate to live in the same city as you and her. But are you sure, dead sure, that the local police wouldn’t just arrest her for attempted extortion?’
‘Not if she has something to give them. Did Tony Lee take her film from her?’
‘I guess so, but I don’t know for sure.’
‘Then find out; if she still has it, or even a print, that would do, try to persuade her to go to the police with you. You’re even more famous here now: you’ve just made a charlie out of a local TV star so you’re a man of influence. If she won’t do that, give her the money and let her run as far as she can.’
‘What about the British High Commission? Maybe she’d agree to go there.’
‘They couldn’t protect her: they’d have to involve the police. Besides, they employ a local workforce. There’s a fair chance that the Triads will have a source there. No, it’s the bizzies or run.’ He paused. ‘Of course, it’ll suit you better if you don’t have to take her to them.’
‘Why’s that?’
‘It won’t ruin your chances of getting your leg over that girl from the TV show.’
‘Forget about that. I told you, she’s. .’
‘I know, I know: she’s a nice girl and you’re a happily married man. Let me tell you something: if all the happily married men who shagged nice girls on away trips were laid end to end, they’d encircle the globe several times over.’
‘Cynical bastard.’ I laughed. ‘Is there no purity in your life?’
‘Not since the former Mrs Dylan caught me with a nice girl on an away trip, no.’
As he spoke the taxi pulled into a space just along from our destination. ‘Mohamed Sultan,’ the driver growled. It was a couple of minutes short of nine; I asked the guy to wait for a while. ‘You’re here,’ he barked. ‘Where you want go. Okay?’
Mike leaned forward and gave him some quiet advice; whatever it was, it worked. We sat there until two minutes past nine, when I decided it was time to go. I paid off the driver. . no tip. . and we stepped out into the humid night.
The front of the Next Page was not what I would have called welcoming: its blue-painted doorway and small obscured windows made it look like a stretch Tardis. Doctor Who’s assistant was seated on a stool at a tall desk by the entrance; she had taken the form of a fat Malaysian girl. ‘Twenty dorrah,’ she said, as we made to enter.
‘This is a pub, dear,’ Dylan pointed out.
‘Sure, but twenty dorrah. You get a drink and there’s a free draw.’
‘Are we sure to win the free draw?’
‘No.’
‘Then it’s hardly a bargain, is it, dear?’
We weren’t there to haggle: I thrust a couple of notes at her, took the two tickets she offered me and led the way through the door. Inside, a man in a suit wanted to search my bag. I told him to fuck off. We had a small stand-off until Dylan whispered in his ear; he stepped aside and let us past.
‘What did you say to him?’ I asked, above the thumping sound of the inevitable music, as we made our way towards the bar; the Bose speakers were proving their excellence once again. The place wasn’t as busy as Maddy had led me to believe; maybe the cover charge wasn’t such a good idea after all, I thought, but in the circumstances I wasn’t bothered about that.
He leaned close to reply. ‘I told him we were the special police, and that if he didn’t get out of the way we’d take him out back and kick the shit out of him. Works every time; I told the taxi driver much the same.’
I looked around the bar: I’d been expecting old Singapore, and the Next Page was trying to be that. It was a designer boozer, all themed up with hanging lanterns and Oriental carvings, the sort of classy hang-out you’ll find in every modern city. It was one long room; at the far end, beyond a central light well, I could see a blue-covered pool table, and just before it, a series of booths.
I gave Mike the tickets to exchange for drinks, and was about to head for the back area when I heard a voice that had become familiar. ‘Hey, boys.’
I stopped. ‘What the hell are you doing here?’
‘Ach, Harry’s was like a tomb and the band was shite, so I thought Ah’d come here and catch up wi’ you guys.’
At that point in time, I did not need him around; in fact, he came very close to having his head bitten clean off, until Dylan’s hand fell on his shoulder and hauled him towards the bar. ‘Sammy, wee man,’ he drawled, ‘let us get you a drink. What’s best in this fucking palace of sin?’
I didn’t hear the reply: by that time I was heading in the direction of the pool table with the blue cloth; I was happy to see that no one was playing that night. (If I was God I would remove all pool tables from pubs with a single flick of My Finger, but that’s just another quirk of Mine.)
As I approached I saw four booths on my right, very dimly lit, each with a table and a bench on either side: I checked them one by one. The first three were unoccupied, but a man sat in the fourth on the bench that faced me. Even with the lack of wattage, it took me half a second to recognise him: I’d seen him before, larger than life, in a poster on the door of the Heritage Theatre Company office at Riverside Point.
He didn’t react as I slid on to the seat opposite him. ‘I don’t like this, Mr Lee,’ I murmured. ‘My meeting was with Madeleine. You may have decided to come along in her place, but that isn’t all right with me.’ I touched the bag on my shoulder. ‘You get nothing until I see that she’s all right.’
Tony Lee said nothing. He simply stared at me across the table. I’d heard of inscrutable Orientals but this bloke was an extreme case.
I wasn’t having it: I reached across and poked him with my right forefinger, hard, in the chest. ‘Do you hear me?’ I snapped.
He didn’t. The force of my prod sent him back into the wooden divider. He recoiled from it and pitched forward, slowly, across the table. As he did, a fountain of blood exploded from his mouth, and much of it splashed over me. Siegfried and Roy’s white tiger would never be the same again.
Startled is not the word to describe my reaction. You know, because I’ve told you, that I’ve encountered a couple of stiffs in my time, but this one took me completely by surprise. ‘Fucking hell!’ I yelled, and dived inelegantly from the booth, tripping in the process and falling on to the floor.
The music drowned my shout for most of the crowd, but Dylan had been looking in my direction. By the time I’d picked myself off the floor, he was by my side, and Sammy Grant was by his. His Glaswegian eyes widened as he saw Lee’s glazed eyes, and my ruined shirt.
‘Oh, my Christ,’ he squealed, as Dylan reached across the body, going through the vain formality of trying to find a pulse in the neck.
By this time we had attracted an audience: people were watching us from the busier end of the place, and one or two, including a couple of girls, started to wander in our direction to see what was up.
Dylan stepped towards them to head them off. As I watched him, still slightly numbed by the shock, Sammy
grabbed my elbow. ‘Oz, you’ve got to get the fuck out of here before the polis arrive.’ His voice was insistent, and sounded more than a little scared. ‘You don’t want tae get involved wi’ those boys. They’re no’ nice.’
‘No, pal,’ I told him. ‘I do want to get involved with them; that’s exactly what I intend.’ I glanced at Lee. ‘Now, what’s happened to him, that really is not nice. You get the fuck out of here, Sammy, if you’d rather; I’ll keep you out of it. In fact, there’s something you can do for me. Go back to the Stamford and wait for Marie Lin; tell her I’m sorry I’ve been delayed and that I’ll call her whenever I have a chance. Go on, scoot; get your arse out of here.’
He looked at me gratefully and scooted. His arse was through the nearest emergency exit in under ten seconds.
By then, Dylan seemed to have the situation in hand. The manager had appeared, down a spiral staircase that led from the office area, the doormen had been ordered to keep any potential gawpers back from the booth, and the police were being called by the barman. The music had been switched off.
‘What’s happened?’ a wide-eyed American girl asked, her question aimed at nobody in particular.
‘A man’s died,’ I told her.
She stared at me and then at the bloody tiger on my chest. ‘How?’ she mouthed.
‘I’m no doctor,’ I replied, ‘but I have done advanced first aid. A perforated ulcer looks like a possibility.’ That was true, but as far as I was concerned it was an outside chance: I reckoned that the cause of death had a lot to do with a small tear I had spotted in the side of Lee’s powder blue jacket as he lay across the table.
Dylan grabbed me and pulled me away from the small throng. There was an air of authority about him that I hadn’t seen for a long time. When he told the barman to go to the door and let nobody in but the police, the guy obeyed without hesitation. ‘What happened?’ he asked me quietly.
For The Death Of Me ob-9 Page 15
