Singapore Girl: An edge of your seat thriller that will have you hooked (An Ash Carter Thriller Book 2)

by Murray Bailey

  “You think he was murdered?”

  “I’m sure of it.”

  “Then I’m in. What do you want me to do?”

  “Just meet me at RAF Changi in the morning.”

  Stevenson ended the call and Deborah said, “Anything else?”

  “No,” I said and thanked her.

  She said, “Anytime, sweetheart. You know how to reach me.”

  I resumed my pose, feet on the desk, leaning back, and closed my eyes. I figured I could sleep for a few hours before anything happened. However, with too much going on in my head, I gave up after an hour and a half. I left the office light on and went outside.

  The clouds had gone and the night sky stretched spectacularly overhead. Cassiopeia and Perseus were bright but I could see faint constellations that I could never see from my home in Singapore.

  Since I had time to kill, I decided to walk the three miles into George Town and enjoy the majesty of the early hours.

  When I arrived at the port I found the port security office and was offered a chair and a cup of tea. I had over two hours before the first ferry left. The office was warm and the chair comfortable. Within minutes I must have been asleep.

  Richard Lipscombe waited until an hour before dawn before moving. He’d pulled the files of the girls and destroyed them but he’d forgotten the summary ledger.

  When he arrived outside the hospital he realized the office light was on. Someone was up there. Probably the Singapore government guy. He’d find the evidence, which was bad, but at least he was here.

  Must be waiting for me, Lipscombe thought. Good.

  Instead of returning to the main gate, he cut across the base towards the trees on the perimeter. From there, getting onto the road was simple.

  He came out about four hundred yards from the main gate. As he glanced that way, he watched a six-wheel Austin Gantry pull out and turn towards him. It would be heading for George Town and the ferry, and it would provide the perfect cover.

  He flagged the truck as it approached.

  “Room for one more?” Lipscombe asked as it slowed.

  The driver nodded and Lipscombe headed for the rear. Hands reached down and hauled him inside. There was plenty of room since the Austin Gantry could comfortably cope with twelve men, probably more. Lipscombe manoeuvred to a seat and counted figures in the dim light.

  Although he could barely see, he nodded to the soldier sitting opposite.

  “Where you headed?”

  “Just west of Betong,” the guy replied. “There’s a bridge out that we’ve got to repair by tomorrow. Fat chance of that!”

  They were sappers—engineers, which made sense since the engineers tended to use the four-wheel-drive Austin Gantry Trucks for towing and lifting.

  Lipscombe had planned to catch the train in Butterworth and head south. Now he considered staying with the engineers; it would be dangerous but he could go north through Thailand.

  “Perfect,” Lipscombe said, and settled back.

  They made good progress for ten minutes before he felt them slow. He figured they’d reached the main congested streets of George Town. Soon after, he smelled rotten fish and the diesel from the docks. They slowed more and then stopped.

  They’d be in the queue for the ferry now.

  Nothing happened for a good quarter of an hour except it got lighter and the noise outside increased.

  Eventually the rear flap lifted and a face appeared.

  “Sorry lads, there appears to be a hold-up.”

  Men grumbled and Lipscombe asked, “What do you mean?”

  “A hold-up. I don’t know. We just aren’t moving, OK?”

  Lipscombe didn’t need to hear any more. He pushed back to the tailgate and climbed out. Peering around the truck he saw that the ferry was docked and some vehicles had boarded. The Austin Gantry was only a hundred yards short of the barrier but it was down.

  He spotted the other queues, one just with pedestrians and bicycles and one with animals and carts. Neither of these was being held up.

  There was no sign of Carter. Maybe this delay was just routine.

  The barrier raised and the vehicles started to load again.

  Lipscombe made a quick decision. He walked smartly away from the cover of the truck and headed for the pedestrian line. Ten strides later and the realization struck him. Vehicles were being checked on board the ferry. If he got on then he’d be trapped. If Carter was around, maybe that’s what he was planning.

  The smart move would be to wait, sit it out and catch another ferry.

  Lipscombe turned sharply away and kept his head down. He glanced casually about as he walked away from the port. At first he used the cover of trucks and people and then he cut away and pushed between pots and fishing nets until he reached the first godown. Now he had good cover. He looked back towards the port. There were people everywhere but no one seemed to take any notice of him.

  There was a fish market beyond the godowns and he headed straight across it. After the market the town began. He reached a building that had a shaded corner and hesitated. He looked back.

  No one there.

  Then a woman’s voice, close by and intense with emotion, said, “You bastard!”

  As he swivelled back, the last thing he saw was a metal pole as it crashed into his face.

  FORTY-TWO

  I didn’t see Lipscombe get out of the Austin Gantry but I figured that was where he’d come from. He first headed towards the ferry and then stopped mid-step.

  He turned, made his way out of the docks and I tracked him all the way. At the godowns I almost lost him as I moved parallel. He disappeared between them and it was only when he crossed the fish market that I knew I had him again.

  He made good progress without being too obvious. His only failing was to assume I’d be behind. And then he stopped. Rather than enter the shadow of a building, he swung around and then back.

  As soon as I saw the pole hit him, I started to run.

  Jane stood over the prone body, ready to strike again.

  “Jane! Stop!”

  She looked at me. The pole shook because of the adrenaline.

  Her pause gave me time to reach her and grab the pole.

  She let out a breath, her eyes wide.

  “I… I was going to kill him.”

  “I guessed.”

  Lipscombe started to groan. I bent down, confirmed the injury above his eye wasn’t life-threatening, and slapped on handcuffs.

  Jane’s eyes were still staring. I wrapped my arms around her and felt the aggression slowly ease away. I felt her tears on my neck.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” I said.

  “I guessed. I realized you wouldn’t wait for him at the hospital. It was too risky.”

  “I figured he’d try and catch the first ferry off the island.”

  She said, “I was waiting outside the barracks. I saw him get in a lorry and had my taxi follow. I wanted him on his own… I was going to kill him.”

  Lipscombe started to rise and I put my foot on his back to stop him. I thought of sending her away before interrogating him but changed my mind.

  I said, “Bring the metal rod. If he doesn’t tell us what we want to know, you can break his legs.”

  I pulled him to his feet and into the shadows. There was a locked door in the building’s wall and I kicked it open. We went in and Jane found a light.

  It was a kitchen, probably for a restaurant. There were benches and sinks and metal utensils hanging from hooks.

  I pushed Lipscombe against a bench, where he squatted, his eyes bulging with fear.

  “Tell me what’s going on,” I began.

  Lipscombe swallowed but said nothing.

  I nodded at Jane and she raised the pole.

  He said, “I just supply the girls.”

  “To order?”

  “Yes.”

  I said, “Who to? Who are you supplying?”

  Jane twitched the pole.

 
Lipscombe looked at me and then Jane. “I don’t know.”

  “Of course you do.”

  He swallowed. “I just liaised with the pilot.”

  “The pilot?”

  “Jeevan,” he said after a hesitation. “The pilot from the humanitarian aid unit at Kota Tinggi. I gave him details. He confirmed the Man wanted them. I did the paperwork. He took them.”

  Jane said, “Is Laura alive?”

  “I don’t know what happens to them.”

  “They go to the adoption centre in Johor Bahru.”

  “That’s what I’m told.”

  I said, “Who’s the Man?”

  Lipscombe said nothing.

  To Jane I said, “Break his right leg.”

  She took up position, lined up the pole and drew the backswing.

  Lipscombe bit his lip and closed his eyes. Jane struck his thigh. It wasn’t hard enough to break a leg and certainly not on his thigh. I’d figured her blood lust must have eased and it had. But the blow must have hurt.

  I said, “Who’s the Man?”

  He said, “He’ll kill me. I can’t talk.”

  “I’ll protect you.”

  His eyes looked pleading for a second. “You can’t help me.”

  I thought about the warning I’d received. The one at the hotel. “Is the Man Chinese?”

  “I’m not telling you anything.”

  “Is it Andrew Yipp?”

  He said nothing.

  “Is it Petersen?”

  He looked at me with hard eyes, like he was assessing how much I really knew.

  “What’s Yiqing Liang’s role?”

  He looked away.

  I said, “The girls ran away. Monalisa Cardoso is dead. The others are probably dead.”

  Lipscombe looked shocked. “I didn’t know. Honestly. I just send the girls to the adoption centre.”

  “To Petersen.”

  “I guess. I don’t know what happens after they leave.”

  Jane said, “For God’s sake, you know it’s not innocent!”

  Lipscombe dropped his head, couldn’t make eye contact with her.

  I said, “Who was the body on the crossing?”

  He shook his head. No idea.

  “What does RZ mean?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Is it someone’s name?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Is it a warning?”

  “I don’t know.” He was almost in tears now. There was nothing left. No fight, no lies, just an obstinate refusal to tell us.

  We tried more questions and threats but learned nothing more. Lipscombe was genuinely terrified.

  I dragged him out into the sunlight and we marched him to the port security office where I got an MP to take us to the airport.

  Turner jumped up when we pulled outside the office block. He stared long and hard, eyes as wide as saucers.

  “You’ve got him,” he said.

  “We’re taking him back to Singapore. You and me.”

  “What’s he said?”

  I shook my head. “Best we don’t talk about it. Have the Dinah prepared and log a flight to RAF Changi.”

  Turner stared at me.

  I said, “Don’t worry. I’ve cleared it for you to fly the Dinah. You won’t get in trouble but you will have to leave it there for scrapping, like it should have been years ago.”

  Turner scurried away and I pushed my captive to the floor, where he sat, head down.

  Jane said, “So you really are excluding me again.”

  We’d already talked about this in the Land Rover. I’d told her I was flying back with Lipscombe. She wanted to come with me but I just couldn’t do it. However much I’d like her company, her emotion would get in the way. She’d almost lost it near the fish market. Lipscombe could be dead already.

  There was another reason. I didn’t want to risk Jane’s life. Lipscombe was terrified of someone and that meant someone who wasn’t afraid to kill. I suspected he was responsible for the body on the causeway and Jeevan’s death. In addition, I’d already lost Hegarty and I didn’t want to risk losing Jane.

  We talked about it again and I asked her forgiveness.

  She shook her head and fixed me with her eyes. Finally, I think she could see I wasn’t changing my mind and she reluctantly nodded.

  Her kiss on my cheek told me she was still mad, but she accepted she wasn’t coming.

  “Find Laura,” she said, looking away and then back. Her voice became harder. “And if someone has hurt her, I want you to make them pay. Do that for me.”

  “I will.”

  FORTY-THREE

  I said I wasn’t going to talk about the case and Turner didn’t ask me anything. I sat in the co-pilot’s seat again and Lipscombe was handcuffed behind us. There was another seat but I made him sit on the hard floor. It only seemed fair.

  I closed my eyes and used the time to think. The 370-mile flight south passed quickly and we were soon descending into Changi.

  There were two Land Rovers parked near the runway and I saw the way Turner looked at them.

  “Taxi away,” I said, pointing. “Let’s go over there.”

  Turner frowned but complied.

  As the engines died, I said, “Are you RZ?”

  “Pardon?”

  “I know, Robin, so just answer the question before the MPs get here.”

  He unclipped and placed his hand on the hatch lever. I pulled out my gun.

  “You aren’t going anywhere.”

  “How did you know?” He glanced behind at Lipscombe. Yet more confirmation.

  I said, “Jeevan was just a patsy, wasn’t he? He was a misdirection, just like implying that you favoured men. How could I suspect a homosexual man could be involved with teenage girls?”

  He said nothing.

  “Jeevan’s plane could have taken a girl in the cargo but it would have been cramped and I think someone would have noticed. The Dinah is much bigger. You probably even let the unsuspecting girl have the navigator’s seat.”

  Turner looked out of the window. He could see the Land Rovers approaching and the MPs’ red caps.

  I said, “But the real indictment was the flight records. I don’t think Jeevan’s showed any deviations until after I’d visited. You had access to the logs and you edited them. You set him up again to ensure the focus wasn’t on you.”

  “Circumstantial evidence at best!”

  “But we both know it’s true. And then you killed him.”

  Turner’s eyes implored me to believe him. “I didn’t. Honestly!”

  The MPs were outside now. Waiting.

  “Are you RZ?” I asked again.

  “No!”

  “But RZ is the Man, isn’t he?”

  Turner nodded.

  I swivelled and looked at Lipscombe. “Is Turner the Man? You don’t need to be afraid of him now.” I didn’t think so, but I had to ask.

  Lipscombe shook his head.

  I hadn’t thought so but could have been deceived by Turner’s friendship. He’d known which hotel I was staying in, so he either left the warning or told someone else.

  I said, “Where did you take the girls?”

  “A tiny airfield north of JB.”

  “Who met you?”

  I signalled to the MPs and the hatch opened. Lieutenant Cole climbed in and I asked him to remove Lipscombe.

  When they had climbed out, I pointed my gun at Turner, the muzzle close to his temple.

  He closed his eyes, a long slow blink, preparing himself.

  I said, “Just an accident. Like Jeevan’s crash.”

  He shook his head with resignation. “It wasn’t me.”

  “I’ve been debating whether to hand you over to the MPs or Slugger Stevenson. I’ll tell him you killed Jeevan and you won’t last five minutes when he gets his hands on you.”

  Turner shook his head, defeated.

  I needed information and I wasn’t getting it. So I tried a different tack and lo
wered the gun.

  I said, “Tell me about Jeevan. What happened here and why was he drummed out of Fleet Air Arm?”

  “You know what happened. He was suspected of smuggling.”

  “Right,” I said, bluffing because I hadn’t known the reason.

  “They needed a pilot for the aid unit so he took that.”

  “You’re forgetting your part in that.” Turner had said he wanted to fly Spits at Changi but was stuck in the training corps. My call to the RAF at Changi had told me a different story. Turner had flown at Changi and volunteered for Tebrau shortly after Jeevan had left. He’d deliberately switched to the FTC.”

  Turner looked awkward.

  I said, “He took the fall for you, didn’t he?”

  “Yes.”

  “What were you smuggling?”

  “Just contraband at that point. Not much, just enough to see us by. But also enough to get us into trouble. He was caught and said it was just him. You see, I had to make it up to him.”

  “So you found a way to earn more money. You helped transport the girls.”

  He looked down. “They weren’t so young at first.”

  “But still, they didn’t know what was in store for them.”

  He said nothing.

  “And when I got too close, you killed him.”

  His eyes said otherwise. “No! I wouldn’t do that.”

  “But you altered the flight details that implicated him.”

  “I panicked. I thought it would help you focus on the aid unit and what they were doing. You’d soon realize it couldn’t be Niroj in his Auster and I knew he could cope.”

  “Is the squadron leader involved in this?”

  He scoffed. “What, and murder my friend? Not a chance. No, Alex is innocent. He’s a good guy.”

  “All right, so who’s the bad guy?”

  Turner clammed up again. I’d been doing so well but he just refused to say.

  I raised the gun again. “Who is the Man?”

  He shook his head. “Shoot me or hand me over to the MPs. Make your choice.”

  We sat in a tense silence for a moment. He was afraid of the gun but more afraid to talk. I’d assumed that Turner had been responsible for Jeevan’s death. But now I had it. Jeevan was killed as another warning.