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

by Murray Bailey

  I made her promise this time. No more heading out on her own. I needed to do two things. There was an outstanding matter regarding the body on the causeway, plus I wanted the truth about Laura van Loon.

  SIXTY-TWO

  It was still dark when I arrived at the Kota Tinggi camp. The boom was raised for a troop carrier leaving the base. I nodded to the guards by their picket fence and they waved me through.

  The central block of buildings—the NAAFI, the canteen, the cinema—were all in darkness except for the odd outside light. I turned left and bumped over the rough ground towards the humanitarian aid tents.

  I could see a string of hurricane lamps and two trucks. People were up and Stevenson was back.

  There was a light on in their mess tent and I could smell sausages. Stevenson sat with Cranfield at a bench inside. Both of them had the same glow, the same fixed grin.

  Stevenson waved and pointed to his plate, piled high with eggs, sausages and beans.

  “Breakfast?” he asked.

  “Tea would be good.”

  The sergeant bellowed and a very tired-looking private rushed a mug of tea to the table. I guessed he’d been dragged out in the middle of the night just to get Stevenson a very early breakfast.

  “How are the girls?” I asked, after telling them I’d rescued Jane and that Sarah was dead.

  “At the orphanage,” Stevenson said. “That Lady Dandy—or whatever—is a strange old bird.”

  I nodded.

  “But she was ready and had blankets and fruit cake ready for them.”

  “Fruit cake!” Cranfield laughed and I figured he was talking about Lady Hage-Dando.

  I said, “JTC?”

  “Not a problem,” Stevenson said. “We took the guns back and untied the poor bastard. Yes they’re missing quite a few bullets, but… well you can guess a lot of bullets can get used up and lost.”

  I nodded.

  Cranfield said, “Sorry I let the old lady escape.”

  “She was wearing a wig,” I explained. “That was Sarah.”

  “Ah,” he said, finally getting it. Then he grinned. “But I’m very proud of my shot—the flare hit the target first time.”

  I was looking at Stevenson. “Rix…” I prompted.

  He smiled. “Overkill, you think?”

  “You blasted him to bits with that Bren!”

  “I was angry. The dog came at me so I had to shoot him.”

  “And that made you angry with Rix?”

  “I like dogs. It wasn’t the dog’s fault. If it hadn’t been let loose… Anyway I figured Rix was to blame.”

  I nodded. “What about the bodies?”

  Cranfield said, “What bodies?” and they both laughed.

  Stevenson explained: “We dumped them in the outbuilding and used the remaining petrol.”

  They ate and I drank my tea.

  “What’s next?” Stevenson asked as he finished his last mouthful. “For you, I mean.”

  “It’s over, right?” Cranfield added.

  “It’s not over.”

  I could see their minds processing this, trying to figure out what I meant.

  “The body on the causeway,” I said.

  “You need to know who did it.” Stevenson nodded, like he understood how a cop’s mind worked.

  “It doesn’t matter which of them did it, though I suspect Rix was telling the truth. She beat him to death with a cricket bat and then later got Rix to remove the head and hands.”

  Stevenson nodded. “You want to know who the man was.”

  I said, “Partly, but this is more about why.”

  “Why?”

  “It was a warning. Like the death threat I received at the hotel—the Chinese note. I ignored it and they attacked my hotel. I thought there was a woman in my room and I now think it was Sarah.”

  Stevenson shook his head.

  I explained: “The headless body leads to the who. Who was being warned off?”

  “And you know?”

  “I think so.”

  “Who then?” Cranfield asked.

  I said, “I’ll find out very soon.”

  I stayed with them until daybreak, thanked them again for their help and left. But I only went as far as the comms room and made three phone calls.

  My first was to Captain McNaughton at the JB police station.

  When I was put through, I said, “You tried to set me up. I want to speak to you, face to face.”

  “Fine,” he said gruffly, “but first explain.”

  “You called about a girl at the KL hospital. There was no girl. That call was to get me out of the way. Maybe someone was waiting for me there. But I didn’t go.”

  “Why did you think there was no girl?”

  “You said her name was Jakaterina. I knew she called herself Kate. If she told someone her name in hospital, no way would she say Jakaterina.”

  “I was just reading a message.”

  “Face to face,” I said.

  “Fine,” he said again. “Where do you want to meet?”

  “The school,” I said, and ended the call. Then I asked the operator to put me through to Gillman Barracks and Lieutenant Cole.

  When he picked up, I said, “I’ve worked it out, Jim. This whole thing with the body and the code. The misdirection of 221. I know why it all happened.”

  “Go on.”

  “It was a warning about the Rafflesia school. RZ referred to Sarah, the woman in charge. Everyone was afraid of her. She killed that pilot, threatened me and set fire to my hotel room. She also killed the man on the causeway.”

  “OK,” he said.

  “But this is now about a list.”

  “A list?”

  “The list of clients who used her services. Important people. Men who would do anything to hide their involvement in what was effectively a sex trade involving young girls held against their will.”

  “God!” he said.

  “This is where you can help me. I know roughly where the list is—the list of clients—the RZ List.” I emphasized this and hoped I’d got it right.

  “OK.”

  “I need help searching for it.”

  “Where?”

  “At the school. Meet me there with a squad of men so we can pull the place apart and find that evidence.”

  “Evidence,” he repeated.

  “Yes.”

  “I’ll do what I can, Ash.”

  I ended the call and asked for Secretary Coates at the government house.

  He said, “I told you to come back. What do you think you’re playing at, Carter?”

  I said, “This is too important. I don’t know who has been involved but I need to find out. I will find out.”

  “Stop now and come back to work or you are fired.”

  “There’s a list,” I said, ignoring him. “The RZ list of clients of the school. We need to know who’s on it. They are senior figures, sir. There could be people in the government.”

  “Are you implying—?”

  “I’m not implying anything. I’m just explaining why that list is so important. I’m going to the school and I’m going to resolve this now.”

  He said something else but I was already replacing the receiver.

  SIXTY-THREE

  A large black Ford drove between the twisted gates and edged down the driveway. The walls were blackened and large patches of the garden still smouldered.

  I was looking out of a front window and watched the car disappear down the side of the building. Then I took up my position in time to hear the front door squeak open.

  “I’m in the last office on the right,” I shouted. “The headmaster’s office.”

  Heavy footsteps came towards me and the door opened. Major Vernon.

  I was sitting at the desk and he scowled down at me.

  “Carter,” he said, in his best bellicose voice, “you are under arrest.”

  I inclined my head. “For what?”

  “A whole list of things b
ut mostly for wasting military police time. Now stand up.”

  I didn’t move and it unnerved him.

  I said, “Where is Lieutenant Cole?”

  “Not coming. I caught wind of your little plan and stopped it. I don’t know what you are doing here but it’s not a military police issue.”

  I said, “Let me tell you about the body on the causeway. You’ll agree that the body was a military police issue.”

  He said nothing.

  “The body had the letters RZ on it for Rafflesia Zarah. It was a warning for someone, someone specific. Someone who would know it was for them and what it was about.”

  His hand rested on the service revolver at his side but he still said nothing.

  “Draw your gun,” I said. I lifted my Beretta from my lap and placed it in front of me. “Please give me an excuse to shoot you.”

  He dropped his hand by his side but there was still tension in the arm.

  “The body and the threat,” I said. “I don’t think the intended target liked being in that position. I think they wanted to give a message back. He tried to wash off the RZ and change it. Upside down it looked like 221. Then the RMP—or rather me with a bit of RMP support—investigated. The drugs issue was old news. The colonel at Majidi Barracks had complained for months.”

  Vernon said, “Lieutenant Colonel Underwood is an idiot.”

  “You think we’re all idiots,” I said.

  He glared at me.

  “Doctor Thobhani spotted some other blood marks that had been washed off. Two chevrons—arrows—one up and one down. Only they weren’t arrows, were they, Anthony?”

  “Tony,” he said, cautious now. “My name is Tony.”

  “Anthony Vernon,” I said. “AV—like up and down arrows if you can’t see the cross on the A.”

  He shook his head.

  “The body on the causeway was a message for you. A warning that you could be next. You washed off the blood and replaced it with your own.”

  “You’re guessing,” he said.

  “How’s your finger now? When I saw you after you found the body, you’d cut your fingers, deliberately, to write 221.”

  “Rubbish!”

  “You arrived on the scene after the body had been discovered and then you had Cole take over the case. In fact, you prompted Cole that the blood said 221.”

  “Exactly!” he scoffed. “The important phrase there was ‘after the body had been discovered’. I wasn’t there first. I didn’t have the opportunity.”

  “The opportunity threw me for a long time,” I said. “I’d assumed you’d been travelling into Malaysia in the morning, but you weren’t. And you were in the Ford that you’ve just arrived in. How do I know? Because Customs noted you as the third to cross in the morning. You probably jumped the queue. Not too early, not too late, so that someone else could have started the investigation.”

  “So?”

  “So you were crossing back. You had to cross to Malaya at some point. You weren’t recorded by Customs because you went through Woodlands Crossing at night. The guards would have recognized you and let you pass. They did it for me when I was with Sergeant Hegarty. RZ—Sarah—knew you were coming and made sure you’d see the body. And you did. You had plenty of time to wash off the message, cut yourself and write 221. You must have been so smug. Send a message right back at her. A threat of your own.”

  He shook his head. “All just speculation.”

  I said, “If you hadn’t sent us on the wild goose chase, Dave Hegarty would still be alive today.”

  “Don’t blame that on me!”

  Keeping my eyes on Vernon, I opened the desk draw and pulled out a black pocket book.

  “What’s that?”

  “The RZ list. The names of all the clients this so-called school has ever had.”

  I saw his face whiten and his teeth clench. He held out a hand—his left, so that he could still go for the revolver.

  I placed the book on the desk, next to my gun, with my hand over it.

  “So it’s not just speculation,” I said.

  “Let me explain.”

  “Please do.”

  “I was a client when it was legitimate. They were training the girls to be young ladies. I expected I’d marry one someday.”

  I looked dubious.

  “All right, I’ll be honest, I expected I’d have one as a mistress. An attractive girl on my arm. One who knew how to behave and be discreet. But the girls got younger and I expressed concern.”

  “Then some girls escaped.”

  “Yes!”

  I shook my head. “Didn’t it trouble you that they were held captive here?”

  He looked pleadingly at me. “I didn’t know!”

  “But you had sexual relations with them.”

  “Yes, but never—”

  “Never what?”

  “Against their will.”

  He said, “Look, I complained and they threatened me. She threatened me. They were nice and friendly but then the body turned up with my initials and I knew what she was saying. I had to protect myself.”

  “You misdirected an investigation for your own ends. And Hedge got killed.”

  He said, “Let me have the list. I’ll make sure all those men are brought to justice.”

  “You don’t know who they are?”

  “Just one.”

  “Your chum Commander Alldritt.”

  He nodded. He was offering up his friend in an attempt to convince me of his good intentions.

  I said, “Who else?”

  “I don’t know, honestly. We could only come at scheduled times. I knew there were senior people involved but never who.”

  And then the realization hit him. “Hold on,” he said. “You have the list. You said you have the list.”

  I skimmed the black book across the desk towards him. He caught it and flicked through.

  The pages were blank. When he looked up, my gun was aimed at him.

  “You’re not going to kill me,” he said.

  “No. I’m going to see you suffer the disgrace of a court martial.”

  “You’re way outside your jurisdiction.” He laughed but it was hollow.

  I said, “They were clever with the body. The causeway was your jurisdiction and the crime was committed here. I found the murder weapon in the garage. Rafflesia Zarah—Sarah—beat him to death with a cricket bat. There were bloodstains in the garage workshop under the sawdust. He was killed there and then his head and hands were removed with a samurai sword. They were probably fed to the local pigs. They kept his body on ice—”

  “I don’t know who it was.”

  “Doesn’t matter. Who he was didn’t matter to you or them. In fact, his anonymity was important. It wasn’t a murder investigation, it was just a message. But it was a murder nonetheless.”

  Again he said, “Outside your jurisdiction.”

  “But not mine!” Another man stepped into the room. Captain McNaughton. He’d convinced me he had just been the messenger about a second girl. After I’d called him, McNaughton confirmed with the hospital in Kuala Lumpur that no second girl had been found. Then he confronted the lieutenant who had passed on the message. The man confessed he’d been another customer of the school. He’d also been instrumental in deflecting any investigation into the school.

  McNaughton snapped handcuffs onto Vernon and removed his revolver.

  “Think yourself lucky,” I said to Vernon as he was led away. “I wanted to shoot you.”

  SIXTY-FOUR

  Su Ling took a long time to answer my call but I stayed on the line until I was put through.

  “Yes?” she said, without a pleasantry or explanation for the delay.

  I said, “I need a favour. I need an address.”

  Her tone was cold. “Why should I help you?”

  “Because of what we have… what we had.”

  She didn’t say anything for a minute. I heard a door close and guessed she was in an office and didn
’t want anyone to overhear.

  “I never really loved you,” she said when she came back on the line. “You know that. It was just physical.”

  “OK,” I said, but I thought she was trying to convince herself as much as me.

  She said, “You could never accept me for who I am. Who I work for.”

  “I did.”

  “No you didn’t. Otherwise you wouldn’t have suspected me of sending that death threat.”

  “I didn’t—”

  “You did!”

  I let a silence grow on the line, like it was pushing us apart. I thought about the John Wayne film. Su Ling and I came from different worlds. The silver screen wasn’t reality. A gunslinger couldn’t marry an angelic Quaker. A cop couldn’t be with the mistress of a criminal. If that was what she was. If that’s what Yipp was.

  Finally, I said, “I’m sorry. It was just—”

  “Accept it, Ash. We used one another and you just demonstrated it again when you asked me to help. You got information from me. I got information from you.”

  “Just spies,” I said, reflecting what Andrew Yipp had said to me about The Art of War.

  She said nothing.

  I said, “I just need your help one more time.”

  “And then you will leave us alone.”

  Us. I figured she was now including her boss.

  I said, “I can’t influence what Secretary Coates does but I will give you my assurance that I won’t pursue Mr Yipp.”

  “Or me.”

  “Or you.”

  I said, “What do you know about the business they were running at Rafflesia school?”

  “Is that what this is about?” She sounded surprised.

  “Maybe. Was Mr Yipp involved in any way?”

  “I don’t know,” she said, and I believed her.

  “There must have been a client list.”

  “Probably. There usually is. You know it used to be a finishing school. Then the Japanese officers used it and there were rumours that they kept young women there. For their pleasure.”

  I said, “Sarah?”

  “Zarah,” she said. “That isn’t her real name. I believe she was once a girl there—in the time of the occupation.”