I hadn’t appreciated how confined an Auster training plane was. My head almost touched the overhead window. I was so close to the windscreen that I felt exposed as Kennedy took off into the easterly wind.
He curved around through over 180 degrees and we were soon over Johor Bahru. In the air, my sense of direction was useless. I could see houses and roads and grassland and forests. I spotted Majidi Barracks, but that was the only thing I recognized.
The sky rapidly darkened with heavy clouds. “We probably have under thirty minutes before it chucks it down.” Kennedy had to shout above the engine noise. Then he pointed ahead. “There’s your Bukit Zarah.”
I got the sense of the hill, but only just. I spotted the road up to the school and then the school itself. From above, the grounds looked bigger. I also noticed that the garage units behind the main building were maybe twice the size I expected. There was another building off at an angle.
Around the perimeter I could see treetops. The forest stretched mainly north and north-east. To the west was a square of land.
“What’s that?” I asked.
“Farm, maybe?” He turned the plane around. “Pigs, probably.”
I took a good look and then pointed north.
Kennedy knew what he was doing. He swept towards the coast, around and back inland. His pattern formed a tight, repeating wave, all the time looking below and around.
“It’s like search and rescue,” he shouted over the thrum of the engine.
I nodded. The ground rushed past and I had to keep looking up for fear of vertigo.
He said, “Helicopters are the future.”
“You said, before.”
“Robin’s a great pilot. Will I get him back?”
I looked away from the ground again. “I doubt it.”
He nodded.
I said, “How big will this thing be?”
“At least a hundred yards, probably two. It should be as obvious as…”
“What?”
“There at nine o’clock.”
I could see tracks through the jungle, some straight, most curving, all narrow. And then a swathe cut through the trees. Clear from the air. Probably hidden from the ground.
Kennedy turned towards it. “Want to land?”
“Fly on,” I shouted. As we went over, I checked for anyone watching but saw no one. Nor did I see a hangar.
“It’s tight,” Kennedy said. “Not many could land there.”
“Except Turner.”
“I could land in this but not the Dinah.”
“Back home?” he said, circling a finger.
“Back home,” I said.
Stevenson shook his head at me when I climbed out of the confined space.
“No luck?” I asked.
“Waste of time,” he said. “What about you?”
I was about to tell him about the jungle airstrip when a clerk ran over, breathless.
He looked at the squadron leader and then me. “Mr Carter?”
“Yes.”
“Urgent call, sir. In the office. Life or death, he said.”
FORTY-SIX
The man on the other end of the phone was Major Vernon.
I said, “Life or death, Major?”
“Yours,” Vernon said with venom. “What the hell are you playing at, Carter?”
“Investigating a crime that remains unsolved.”
“Really?”
I let the question hang.
He said, “You have one of my vehicles.”
“Lieutenant Cole let me borrow it.”
“You’ve stolen it. I want it back.”
I said, “Have you spent the last few hours trying to track me down just to ask for your little jeep back?”
He didn’t respond straight away and I figured I was right. He’d been calling around unsure of where I’d gone. But then he surprised me.
“Stealing an army Land Rover is one thing, Carter. Impersonating the RMP is a serious offence.”
“I’m not impersonating anyone.”
“That’s not what I’ve been told.”
“By whom?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“It does if you’re pressing charges.”
I heard him breathing and imagined his jaw muscles moving the way they did when he was irritated.
He said, “You went to the school at Bukit Zarah, posing as RMP.”
“No I didn’t.”
“They say you did.”
“Who?”
He breathed again. “Bring the Land Rover back now.”
“Who told you?”
“Bring it back immediately and I won’t press charges.”
I said, “Why was Commander Alldritt at the school?”
“What?”
“When I was there almost two weeks ago, I saw your buddy Alldritt.” His car anyway.
“I don’t know…”
“Does he have a daughter at the school?”
“Carter, bring my Land Rover back. You have four hours. After that, all bets are off.”
I was about to ask him what he meant by that but he slammed the phone down.
Stevenson and I killed some more time by eating at the Kota Tinggi canteen. Rain pounded on the roof, and as men came in, their clothes steamed.
Dinner was beef stew and dumplings. As we ate, I told Stevenson about the flight and he told me what he’d found out.
“I spoke to everyone who was there that day. The man who fuelled up the plane insisted he’d done nothing wrong, but I reckon he feels guilty. You know, just in case it was his fault.” He shrugged. “Everyone was putting it down as a freak accident. And no one saw anything suspicious.”
“No contradictions?”
“You mean did someone say something that didn’t tally with what someone else said? No. Everyone was in shock. I don’t think they really knew Niroj. To them he was just the humanitarian aid pilot, but an exploding plane… well it’s affected them.”
“Who else was there that day?”
“Apart from Niroj, they saw the aid lorry come in. I got the names of the chaps who dropped off.” He shook his head. “Straight as dies. No way were they involved.”
I couldn’t be so certain but waited for him to finish.
“There was one other thing that a couple of ground crew mentioned.” He shook his head. “But it was nothing.”
“Tell me.”
“Just someone lost. Happens occasionally, they said, on account of there being no gates. People come in looking for the BVD but miss it. Or drivers take the wrong turn and end up on the airfield.”
I said, “Tell me about this one.”
“Two people, a man and a woman. Only description I could get was she had grey hair.”
“Vehicle?”
He froze, mouth open. “Shit! It was a blue van. I didn’t think.”
“It’s all connected,” I said.
It was dark but still too early when we left the canteen. A group of men were going into the cinema so we killed some more time.
The crowded room soon filled with cigarette smoke, which masked the smell of damp clothes. Like most army cinemas, the experience was more about interaction than the quality of the film. When the good guys appeared, everyone cheered. They booed for the bad guys and catcalled whenever the heroine spoke.
It was hard to follow, but maybe that was the point. The mismatch of the criminal gunslinger with the beautiful Quaker girl made me think of my relationship with Su Ling. Only I knew she wasn’t an angel.
At the end, the men, including Stevenson, howled with derision. On the way out, he said, “I’ve seen that film three times this week and it doesn’t get any better. No way John Wayne could become a Quaker—no matter how pretty the girl.”
I said, “The bad man falls in love with someone apparently too good for him. Proves he’s not such a bad man after all.”
“What do you think of the final line?”
“Only a man who carries a gun ever need
s one?”
“Right,” he said, and then answered his own question: “It’s nice in theory but John Wayne handed in his gun at the end, after confronting the rustlers. In the real world those men would have shot him. He was only saved by the gun of the marshal.”
As we walked outside, I said, “What are you saying?”
“You have a gun and I don’t.”
I used to have the service revolver but now I just had the Beretta on my left ankle. Stevenson must have spotted it.
I said, “You don’t need one for what I have planned.”
“See,” he complained, “you sound just like the marshal.”
FORTY-SEVEN
We came upon the school from the west. I pictured the lanes I’d seen from the air and located the farm. We were downwind and could smell the pigs.
After the farm we came to the woods, beyond which was the school. We parked and headed for the school’s perimeter wall.
The rain clattered through the trees. Stevenson had given me a coat and a torch. He had a rope wound over a shoulder and an eight-inch knife on his belt. He also had two folding stools and a small bag.
I had a bag too. Mine was empty, his wasn’t.
When I asked him about it, he’d said, “You won’t get me a gun. I need to defend myself.”
“Not the knife, I mean the bag.”
“So do I,” he’d said and laughed.
I picked my way through the wet undergrowth, the Beretta in my belt. Our torches flashed up and along the wall.
It was ten feet high all the way along. Smooth with no handholds. There were also no trees close enough to climb.
“Thorough,” I said.
“There’ll be glass on the top, I expect.”
I didn’t doubt it. That’s why I had the gloves.
When we neared the entrance, we retreated in case anyone was at the gate. Light spilled through the metal bars from lanterns along the drive. The gardens were lit too, like they were on show.
Open late then. It was after midnight.
I could see three large dark cars parked where I’d seen Alldritt’s car previously.
We eased back into the trees and I exchanged looks with Stevenson.
“We wait,” he said, and opened up the stools.
I pulled up my collar but the rain still managed to get down my neck.
Stevenson opened a tin. “Want a smoke?”
I declined.
“I don’t know why I smoke them. Free tins of Players. I keep getting them and it’s become a habit.”
He went through four and a slow hour passed. I started to wonder whether the lights would ever go out. Surely they didn’t keep them on all night?
It was another fifteen minutes and another cigarette before there was movement at the gates. After unlocking them, one of the staff swung both wide. The three large cars left, one after another. The gates clanged shut and the key was turned.
“Not staff,” I said, referring to the three vehicles. “Too grand.”
“Hopefully the staff will leave soon then.”
I shook my head. “I don’t think so. The gates were locked again.”
The garden lights went out.
We left it another ten minutes and took a peek. As expected, there were no more cars, but light slid through the cracks of the garage door and at least two rooms inside the main building had lights on.
We left the stools where they were and made our way back through the wet undergrowth. It wasn’t until I broke cover and stood by the wall that I realized the rain had stopped. Under the trees, water still dripped down, thudding on branches and leaves.
We were a third of the way around. I stopped, removed the coat and put on the gloves. Stevenson laced his hands together and boosted me up. He suppressed a grunt as I stood on one shoulder and then the other. Perhaps I should have invested in some soft-soled shoes as well.
I rested my hands on the top and felt wicked shards of glass. The gloves would protect my hands but I needed more, so I folded the coat and placed it on top of the wall.
From my position I had a good view of the grounds. The building I’d seen from the air was closest. It was smaller than the garage and if there was light inside I couldn’t see it. I could still see the garage maybe fifty paces away. The school was about two-thirds of this distance and I could see two downstairs rooms had lights on. Someone briefly appeared at the window on the left.
There was a part-glass back door and a dim light came from there too. Upstairs was in darkness.
I scanned the grounds for movement in case someone was patrolling, but I saw nothing. The gates were on the far side of the school from my position and I supposed there might be a man in the gatehouse.
Without warning, the back door opened.
A man came out followed by a female. From this distance I couldn’t judge her age, but she was smaller than Rix’s assistant so I figured she was a pupil.
The door closed and they walked towards me, led by the man. He had a torch that lit a path I hadn’t noticed before.
Because of the darkness, I saw less and less as they came my way.
I ducked my head down in case the guy swept his torchlight towards me but he didn’t. I couldn’t see the front of the nearby building and they disappeared. They must have opened a door and gone inside. The garden lit up briefly and went dark once more.
The man appeared moments later. This time he was alone. His torch bobbed along the path back to the school and he went inside.
The grounds became still once more and I jumped over the wall. My landing would have been more elegant if not for the box hedging I stuck one foot through. The crunch sounded loud to my ears so I stood still and waited.
I first approached the smaller building nearby. There were bars at dark windows. I placed my ear to the wall but could hear nothing.
On either side of the path was more box hedging. It formed a maze-like pattern across the grass. I crouched and then crawled, zigzagging as I followed the line of hedging. The grass ended and a couple of yards of shingle filled the gap from border to wall.
I was about to step onto the stones when the click of a door made me duck down once more. This time it was the garage. The silhouette of another man appeared in the doorway before the garage lights went out. I heard the door close and he jogged across the garden towards me.
As he approached, I flattened myself to the ground and drew my gun. But he wasn’t heading for me because the next sounds I heard were his feet on the stones and the back door opening and closing.
A dog barked, the sound coming from the direction of the gates. It gave two bursts of three barks and was then quiet. No one called the dog. No one came outside to investigate. Maybe it had seen a rat or a squirrel or monkey.
I waited for a few beats just in case the situation changed, before stepping lightly across the shingle.
Here, beside the main property, there was pale light and faint shadows. I figured I could be seen if someone were looking for me.
I found a nook in the wall and stood and looked around. The windows had bars, so the only way in was the door. There were at least two men inside and they were undoubtedly armed.
I wanted to get into Rix’s office, to go through his desk and find anything that would point me to Petersen.
I edged to the nearest window and peeped in. Rix and two other men were at a table, talking. As I watched, a fourth man came in. I’d seen a total of four men before. There could be more, but maybe not. I’d also met the Chinese, mixed-race assistant. Maybe she wasn’t even here. Maybe she’d gone home before we’d arrived and watched the gates.
I slipped past the back door and glanced in through the panelled glass. The light came from the front of the house rather than the hall itself. Maybe there was another room with an open door.
Next I came to the room that had been lit. The door was slightly ajar and I could see a paperweight on the desk—the brass Japanese house.
I returned to the back door, che
cked no one was there and carefully opened it. As I closed the door behind me I noted a key in the lock.
To my right was the room with Rix and his men. I could hear them talking, relaxed, normal conversations. On the left was the head’s office, the door still ajar, the light still off.
I stepped lightly across the hall and slipped into the office.
My plan had been loose and vague: get in and get out. Rix had glanced at the desk when I’d asked about Petersen’s whereabouts.
The light from the hall was sufficient so I quickly jemmied the desk drawer open and started to search for anything that looked like an address book.
I flicked through letters and brochures and then I stopped. The realization that I’d been on the wrong trail struck me at the same time as two other things happened. I spotted what looked like a neat little address book. The second thing was the sound of footsteps outside the office.
Heart pounding, I grabbed the address book and pulled my gun.
The door moved.
FORTY-EIGHT
The office light went on but the person hesitated for some reason. By the time the door opened wider, I was behind it, ready to defend myself if need be.
I expected Rix but it wasn’t him. The assistant stepped into the room.
Maybe she knew something was wrong because she took a sharp breath. Even as she turned towards me, I was moving. I put my gloved right hand over her mouth.
Her eyes went wide with shock and panic. I could feel her scream through the leather against my palm. Her body jerked and I wrapped my arm around her until the fight subsided.
Our eyes locked and I mouthed, “It’s all right. I won’t hurt you.”
No response.
“I’m here to help you.”
This time she nodded slightly.
I mouthed, “Don’t make a sound.”
She nodded again.
I eased my hand off her mouth. Her lungs filled ready to scream but I was ready for it. I clamped the hand back. My other hand wrapped quickly around her neck until I could put pressure on her carotid artery. I squeezed until the moment her body went limp.
Singapore Girl_An edge of your seat thriller that will have you hooked Page 21
