Singapore Girl_An edge of your seat thriller that will have you hooked

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Singapore Girl_An edge of your seat thriller that will have you hooked Page 23

by Murray Bailey


  “Well, well,” he said. “I’m glad you’ve come to see us after all.”

  I waited for the explanation and he pointed to the chairs, expecting us to sit.

  I remained standing.

  “You stayed in the King George last night, correct?”

  “I had a room.”

  “But didn’t use it?”

  “I didn’t stay.”

  He nodded and looked at the paper again. “Mr Carter, I’m arresting you for wilful damage to the hotel.”

  “Wilful damage?”

  “You’re my arsonist,” he said. “You tried to burn it down.”

  FIFTY

  The others were asked to leave and McNaughton wanted me to explain my movements of the night before. I decided against mentioning the school visit. Instead I told him I had checked into the King George and then spent the evening with a friend.

  “The other chap?” McNaughton prompted, referring to Stevenson.

  “Yes. We ate at the camp, saw a film and had a few drinks.”

  “And then what?”

  “I had a bit too much I’m afraid.” Mea culpa. I hoped my contrition was convincing. “You know… I had so much I forgot my hotel. I must have told the taxi driver the wrong one. I’d stayed in the European and Oriental before, so maybe that was why.”

  “So you checked into a different hotel.”

  “I did.”

  McNaughton nodded as though he believed me, but I knew the technique. He was encouraging me to talk, hoping I’d say something I shouldn’t. But of course I was innocent.

  I said, “Tell me what happened at the other hotel.”

  “If I call the European and Oriental, they’ll have a room in your name?”

  “Yes—and confirm my arrival time. What time was the fire?”

  He stood up and left me then. The room was airless and I felt sweat prickle my scalp. I sipped my water and considered my options. There would be a guard outside the door but it wasn’t locked. I suspected I could make my escape with little bother but then maybe McNaughton wanted that. Maybe McNaughton was in on this whole thing. Or was I becoming paranoid?

  I decided to wait.

  McNaughton gave me his easy smile when he came back twenty minutes later.

  “You’re sweating,” he said.

  “It’s hot.”

  He smiled again. “I made two phone calls. Firstly I rang the E&O and confirmed your story. You checked in before the fire at the George and no one saw you leave.”

  I nodded.

  He continued: “However you also checked into the George and no one saw you leave there either… And the receptionist at the E&O said you weren’t drunk.”

  I shrugged. “I can’t comment because I barely remember checking in.”

  “Tell me about the fire in your room at the George.”

  “I can’t because this is the first I’ve heard about it.”

  “Why would you set fire to it?”

  “I didn’t.”

  “Why would someone else?”

  I cocked an eyebrow. “Because they thought I was in it?”

  He watched my eyes for a while. “What’s your theory?”

  “I told Major Rix at the school where I was staying.”

  “So you think Rix did it?”

  “Or one of his cronies.”

  McNaughton sighed. “And that’s because of this whole sex trade thing and escaping girls at the school?”

  “Yes.”

  He said, “The second phone call was to your boss, Secretary Coates. He vouched for you…” He paused, like he was going to say more.

  “Good,” I said, and started to stand.

  “He vouched for you but said you were in trouble.”

  I said nothing.

  McNaughton watched me and I could tell he wanted me to explain. Eventually he gave up and said, “You are free to go but I want to know where you are staying—the genuine hotel.”

  I hesitated but then decided there was no point in lying to the captain. If he suspected I would move to a different hotel then I’d be brought in again. “The European and Oriental,” I said.

  He nodded. “Make sure you are. And there’s something else. Your boss only vouched for you on the condition you call him. Now.”

  I was taken into another room and waited while someone somewhere connected the Johor Bahru police station to the Singapore government offices and then Secretary Coates.

  McNaughton listened before handing me the receiver.

  “Carter?” Coates said.

  “Yes.”

  “What the hell are you doing?”

  “I’m investigating that crime, the one that started on the causeway.”

  I heard his teeth click. “Is this an internal security issue?”

  “It may be.”

  “No it isn’t!” His teeth clicked again, and although his voice remained calm, I knew he was angry.

  I said, “It’s connected in some way to the abduction of girls for the sex trade.”

  “You have proof?”

  “Not exactly, but—”

  Now he raised his voice. “But nothing. You work for me. You are not a private investigator. If this is a JB police matter then let the JB police investigate.”

  “That’s why I’m here.”

  I heard dead air for a moment as he processed this. “Right. Good. Then I’ll expect you in the office shortly.”

  I said, “Yes, sir.”

  He said, “If you don’t come back, you’ll be fired. Understand?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Jane and Stevenson looked worried as I appeared in the station’s reception area.

  Stevenson said, “You’re released?”

  I nodded and Jane hugged me.

  I said, “They tried to kill me last night. Set fire to my room.”

  Jane said, “So we have confirmation?”

  “Oh yes, we do.”

  “What do we do next?” Stevenson asked. “Back to the hotel?”

  “Let’s get the Land Rover,” I said. “At least then we’ll have some wheels.”

  Outside, I scanned the street for a taxi but resorted to a trishaw. Jane and I got in. Stevenson flagged down another and we set off for the King George Hotel.

  The RMP Land Rover was still there. A thin line of smoke rose up from the roof and I figured it came from the room I’d used.

  There was no fire crew and no police cars but I could see a number of bobbies inside.

  Following my instructions, our cyclist didn’t stop. Instead, I signalled to Stevenson and saw that he understood.

  We waited a street away and he picked us up in the jeep a few minutes later and drove to the European and Oriental.

  Back in the other hotel lobby, Stevenson said, “Are we safe here?”

  “As safe as anywhere,” I said.

  He shook his head. “Not as safe as at Kota Tinggi. We could go there.”

  “Are you serious? The security is a guardhouse and picket fence!” Normally, I would have laughed but my colleagues were in a sombre mood. The long uncertain wait for me to be released by McNaughton showed on both their faces.

  I leaned back in a leather chair and said, “Secretary Coates wants me back in Singapore. He wants me off this case.”

  Jane shook her head. “The police captain isn’t going to investigate, is he?”

  “Probably. Eventually. He’ll visit them. He’ll ask Major Rix a bunch of questions and he’ll go away again.”

  “Why?”

  “Because he hasn’t got a crime. All he’s got is a theory from us.”

  Stevenson said, “But the body on the causeway?”

  “Isn’t his concern. Remember, it was in no man’s land. If it’d been in JB, then I think he’d have a different attitude.”

  Jane said, “So if you’re going back to Singapore, what are we going to do?”

  “Don’t worry,” I said. “I’m not going back. Not just yet anyway.”

  FIFTY-ONE
r />   Avoid that which is strong and strike at what is weak. That was Sun Tzu’s principle, but it created a problem for us. The school was strong. It was a fortress.

  We’d bounced around ideas but I kept coming back to the school. We had to attack the school.

  Jane’s blinks became longer and longer and I thought she’d fall asleep at any moment. However, she drank another cup of coffee and waited until we’d convinced ourselves of the only option.

  “But what about the girls?” she said. “If you start shooting in the school, anything could happen.”

  “We’ll be careful,” Stevenson said.

  “You can’t guarantee they won’t get hurt.”

  “Maybe we won’t need guns.”

  “Only a man who carries a gun ever needs one,” I said, quoting the film we’d watched.

  “What does that mean?” Jane asked.

  “John Wayne,” Stevenson scoffed. “In theory we don’t need guns. But they’re armed, and if we just go in with fists, we won’t be coming out alive.”

  I nodded. “There’s no alternative.”

  Jane shook her head. “You could get the girls out first.”

  Stevenson said, “And how would we do that?”

  “I don’t know, but we need a better plan.” She yawned. “And as I understand it, we have plenty of time.”

  She was right. I wanted to go in at night and it still wasn’t midday. Stevenson had argued for a daylight attack. Go now. But that increased the risk for the girls.

  If we warned Rix we were coming, then we might hope he’d protect the girls, but there was also the possibility that they’d use them against us. More than a possibility.

  Our best bet was a night-time attack. Even so, they would be expecting us. They knew I’d broken in. They’d tried to kill me by setting fire to my room at the wrong hotel. Yes, they knew I was coming, so how to surprise them? We needed an angle.

  Jane yawned again. She’d been up for almost thirty hours and the coffee could no longer hold back the exhaustion.

  We agreed that she shouldn’t take my room—just in case Rix found out we were here. Taking no chances, she booked in under an assumed name and I said we would come back later.

  “With a better plan,” she said, and I agreed.

  Lieutenant Cole stood outside by the Land Rover. There was another RMP vehicle with a driver and I figured one had arrived and two were going back.

  I nodded a greeting like I was expecting him.

  “I’ve come for the jeep,” he said.

  “Vernon sent you.”

  Cole nodded. “He’s baying for your blood. Been complaining to your boss in the government too.”

  I’d figured as much.

  He said, “How’s it going? The investigation I mean.”

  “Making progress.”

  He climbed into the Land Rover and started her up.

  “Look,” he said, “I really am sorry about… you know, not telling you.”

  “Vernon?” I said.

  “Right.”

  I said, “I’ll find a way you can make amends.”

  He nodded. “Has RZ made any sense?”

  I said nothing. My working theory was that R stood for Rafflesia and Z for Bukit Zarah. But why on the body and who was the body? I was no closer to understanding that piece of the puzzle.

  As though reading my thoughts about the blue van, Cole said, “Did you find where that private ambulance went—with the dead girl?”

  “No.”

  “You need to come up with something soon. Vernon won’t let me hold Turner and Lipscombe very long with no evidence.”

  “How long have I got?”

  “I can hold him off until tomorrow morning, I think. I hope.”

  I was still thinking about the blue van. “Any more news from Customs?”

  “No. As you know, the investigation’s over.”

  He turned the Land Rover around and signalled for the other driver to leave. Again he leaned towards me.

  “We’re having drinks for Hedge tonight. In his honour. You know, a kind of wake.”

  I said, “He was a good lad.”

  “Will you join us?”

  I thought it unlikely but said I’d try.

  He said, “Vernon insisted I bring you back.”

  I shook my head. No way was that going to happen. Stevenson stepped closer.

  Cole grinned. “It’s OK. I’ll tell him you weren’t here.”

  “You still owe me.”

  “I do,” he said, as the Land Rover started to roll. “And good luck. I mean it.”

  Stevenson was watching me. “The wake…”

  “No, I won’t be going. Cole was in part warning me about Vernon. I show up, he’ll probably arrest me. Plus we’ve got hours to finish this thing tonight.”

  “So what next?”

  “We plan. But first we’ll detour via the causeway.”

  “Going back to Singapore?”

  “No, we’re paying a visit to Customs.”

  A hot ten minutes later, our taxi stopped outside the Customs building. I’d used the time to think about what I knew. The blue van had been classed as a meat wagon and been one of the last vehicles across before the border closed for the night. Major Vernon had been one of the first on the scene and started the investigation. Lieutenant Cole had been assigned to lead, Doctor Thobhani had been called and Hegarty instructed to get me involved.

  The blue van would have had to return at some point but I had no record of when. Maybe that would have helped. Maybe not. But that wasn’t the most important question in my mind.

  Between the body being positioned on the causeway and the investigation starting, the letters RZ had been changed. And then there were the chevrons. Someone had tried to remove them. If it was a warning, did it mean? And why remove the message?

  In our taxi, Customs wouldn’t have waved us through, but we had avoided the queue and I went inside alone.

  I had no power, no right to see the records, but when I showed my ID, the desk clerk didn’t hesitate. He pulled the file from the night before the body had been found and I glanced at the records. Then I asked for the following day.

  As soon as I saw the first entry, I knew we’d made a huge assumption. An incorrect assumption. It didn’t solve everything but it explained a lot.

  “Why are you smiling,” Stevenson asked as I climbed back into the taxi.

  I said, “I’ve started to understand.”

  “Care to explain?”

  “Not yet,” I said. “That comes later. For now we need to plan how we get Rix.”

  FIFTY-TWO

  Back at the Kota Tinggi camp, Stevenson wanted to involve his men. “Like an army besieging a castle,” he said. “That would have shock value.”

  I didn’t like the idea. The more people involved, the less control I’d have and the greater the chance of something going wrong. However, I finally agreed to one additional man. It made sense for what we had planned.

  We ate lunch with Stevenson’s man, Cranfield, who reminded me a bit of Hegarty, full of life and humour. Stevenson said he trusted him with his life. Which Cranfield found hilarious.

  I told him what was going on and that we planned an attack on the school.

  “This needs to be controlled,” I said.

  Cranfield nodded.

  I said, “When I tell you what to do, you do it.”

  “We’re soldiers,” Cranfield said with a grin. It wasn’t strictly true. They’d been soldiers once. They were military, yes, but now they were aid workers. Sidelined. Cranfield showed no sign of being lame or sick so he was probably in the lazy category. Some CO somewhere had wanted shot of him and now he was in my team.

  I drew a map of the school: the perimeter wall, the garage, the outbuilding, and the school house. I pointed to the outbuilding and said I expected the girls would be there. Then I drew the layout of the school house as best I could. I hadn’t seen the upper floor and again said there could be innoce
nts up there.

  I explained that all of the windows had bars and that there was just a front entrance and a back door. The perimeter wall was ten feet tall and intact the whole way round. The only easy way in or out was through the main gates.

  Cranfield asked some good questions and when he was done, I said, “Here’s what I want you to do.”

  After I’d given him a shopping list, he asked, “What about guns?”

  Stevenson and I had discussed this. I was uncomfortable with his plan, but the alternative was a single Beretta between the four of us.

  “Don’t you worry,” Stevenson said. “It’ll be sorted.”

  We took the humanitarian aid Land Rover and first stopped off at the hotel. I knocked lightly on Jane’s bedroom door and got no response, so I left a note at reception so that she’d know I’d checked on her. Then I directed Stevenson back to Bukit Zarah and reconnoitred the area.

  We’d found the pig farm without difficulty last night, but north of the hill the roads had been hidden beneath the canopy when I’d flown over in the Auster.

  We got a sense of their complexity before leaving the area and taking the road to Kluang. After a couple of miles I decided we should turn left and take a route heading north-west.

  The road narrowed and we passed through jungle that was broken with huge swathes given up to rubber plantations.

  I drew my Beretta.

  Stevenson looked at me and nodded. “This is the Yong Peng road, isn’t it?”

  Yong Peng had been notorious for bandit activity earlier in the year. Ex-plantation workers had ambushed vehicles and killed civilians and soldiers alike.

  Stevenson drove fast and laterite stones kicked up and rattled under the wheel arches. Occasionally, I spotted tappers bleeding trees, but no one paid us any heed.

  The jungle closed in once more until we rounded a hillock and dropped into a shallow valley. I pictured the area from above and was sure we were close.

  After another mile and a half I told Stevenson to stop and back up. The track was overgrown and rutted, but between the trees I could see daylight and a minute later we were in a field.

 

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