by Terry Morgan
CHAPTER 23
Twelve thirty, shopping done and with Anna sorting bags, I left the hotel. I walked down Emerald Hill in hot, midday sun, past the renovated and picturesque old Chinese houses, back onto Orchard Road where we had just shopped, then the short distance to the Mandarin Hotel. Inside the darker, air conditioned lobby I found a seat where I could see but not be seen. Before long, I saw the tall, gangly form of Caroline Mason coming my way. But despite my efforts, she had clearly seen me first.
Caroline always walks as if she is on a long distance hike. I can barely keep up with her. On this occasion, the long strides made her flowery skirt billow in the passing air. Today she had topped the skirt with a white blouse tied with a black bow at the neck. In her hand was a brown handbag cum briefcase, which she dropped noisily onto the table by my side.
I rose to my feet and held out my hand but it was quickly apparent that Caroline planned a public display of affection in the form of a kiss. She planted it firmly on my left cheek, followed by a similar one on my right one. She also took my hand.
"Rupert, my dear, how lovely to see you. Long time. How are you?"
"Hello, Caroline. It's good to see you too. Come and sit down or would you prefer to go straight through for a gin and tonic."
"I think a G and T sounds splendid. Mustn't have too many though. Got a few things to do when I get back." She laughed and, taking my hand again, pulled me towards the reception desk of the restaurant. The pretty, young Chinese girl asked if we had a reservation.
"Yes, dear," said Caroline, "For two. I phoned earlier. Caroline Mason. Table by the window. Thanks."
We were escorted to Caroline's preferred window table, ordered gin and tonics to be delivered at once and took the proffered menus. Caroline had, as I expected, plenty to say.
"So, what have you been up to. I know I shouldn't call you Rupert but it suits you so much. You do remember don't you what a fabulous day that was. Pity about the bloody British weather - spoils everything - can't plan a thing - but that didn't stop us did it?"
I cringed inwardly but let Caroline continue.
"Heard you were involved behind the scenes in the Stewart Insurance fraud. Got a bad bit of publicity in the end didn't he - Stewart I mean - but I never really understood what you actually did. Was it listening devices or plain old fashioned hiding under the bed in the Frankfurt Sheraton?" She laughed again and, as usual. I felt it necessary to join in.
The gin and tonics arrived and Caroline's enthusiasm in toasting our renewed acquaintance was almost enough to smash the crystal glasses. By now I felt it was my turn to say something. "It's nice to see you also Caroline. I only flew in last night and I made you my first meeting."
"Flatterer!"
"I was at a conference on Infectious Diseases in Bangkok. Have you seen the papers in the last couple of days? Quite a stir."
"Scary - at least you could have some fun before catching AIDS. So what or who sent you there?"
"A client - the trade show was useful to meet a few people - I'm now following up some things that cropped up while I was there. That's why I wondered if you could help, Caroline - in the name of trying to ensure industrial harmony around the globe - British fair play and all that."
"You are a naughty boy, but I'll try."
The waiter arrived for our order and Caroline took a pair of thick rimmed glasses from her bag. "Sign of old age I'm afraid, dear. Catches up even with the sprightly - can barely read anything unless its inches from my eyes."
She put them on, scanned the menu and then said, "I must admit I'm a bit of an old bore really - always want the same thing - what about you?" she put the menu down, removed her glasses and looked at me.
"So, what are you having?". I thought I'd check before committing myself. I'm none too fussy about food. I'll eat anything I've seen others eating.
"Fillet steak, they do a good one, chips, the works really."
"Very oriental, I must say - I'll join you."
Order taken, Caroline said, "So, what can Her Majesty's services do to help?"
"Easy really," I said. "Some information on a local company - name of Shah Medicals. It was set up a few years ago by an Arab gentleman so I understand. So, information on the company background - anything really."
Caroline nodded but before she had a chance to say anything I asked another. "There's something else, Caroline. Is Clive Tasker still in Jordan? You remember someone mentioning him back in the UK? I haven't been to Amman for about two years but he was due to retire last time we spoke."
"Good old Clive," said Caroline. "Yes, retired at Christmas - got a card - retired to Cyprus. He knew it well when he was in Beirut and Jordan. He even put his address on the card. Do you want it?"
"Please," I said.
And so the conversation continued until: "So where are you staying, Rupert, dear? I could drop the stuff around if you like."
"Secret, Caroline. Running incognito as usual. But I bet with your connections you could soon track me down. Please don't try. Innocent British citizen trying to earn an honest crust by tracking down dishonest foreigners and all that. You know me well enough to know that I sometimes need a bit of cover. Better I call you tomorrow morning if I may. Meantime, I'd be very grateful for anything about this Shah Medicals company. Can I call round at the High Commission tomorrow morning. I may well move on from Singapore tomorrow afternoon."
Later, after lunch and after Caroline had drunk the best part of a bottle of red wine, we made our way out onto Orchard Road again. Caroline found it necessary to give me another big kiss, said "Until tomorrow", and beckoned a taxi. I watched her fall in, catch her bag in the door, open it again to retrieve it, shut it once more and, with a wave, through the rear window disappear into the traffic. I admit to still having a soft spot for Caroline.
It was now seven thirty and I was in the Singapore Hyatt Hotel. I had no difficulty in recognising David Chua. The small, middle-aged, Chinese man wore a whitish shirt with a greasy-looking, loose grey tie around the open neck. He shuffled in looking worried and stressed. He was clearly looking for someone. I tapped him on the shoulder. "David Chua?"
"Ah yes, yes - sorry, sorry - so late, lah - too many problems today - everything go wrong. Mr Stevens is it? My card."
"Pleased to meet you. Thank you for seeing me. Would you like a drink - tea or something?"
I apologised that I couldn't reciprocate with my own business card to offer. "So sorry - I ran out of business cards in Manila."
Over Chinese tea, served in delicate white cups sitting around a low, glass- topped table, we talked although I was as deliberately vague as I had been on the phone earlier until: "My client thinks the hand cleansers and antiseptic soaps are likely to be of most interest here. Would this fit into your marketing plans?" I was very pleased with the way that came out. It made me sound like a genuine business consultant.
"Ah, yes, ah," Chua replied encouragingly. He then seemed to relax. "We have grown a lot in the last few years. We now have a new branch in Malaysia and are a market leader in some products. It's taken a lot of work, lah. Singapore, Malaysia very stressful you know." He drained his small cup of green tea with his still sweaty hands. Then he went on: "But I need more information, lah - cannot do anything without information."
Just like any genuine business consultant I was ready for this. "No problem," I said, "If you can give me more information on your organisation, I'll report back and we can take matters further. We are keen to move ahead quickly with the right partner."
It was quite clear that David Chua had not come with anything in written format but he was definitely the man in charge locally. I saw through it all. But there was still a bigger boss somewhere who might think well of him if he could pull off a good deal. I was now pushing him for the missing background.
"OK, lah. I started as a salesman for medical companies - then worked for Suzuki Pharmaceuticals - good business, lah, but the company decided to open their own office here - at same time,
lah, I met Mr Kader - he owns Shah Medicals - he was in Singapore looking for agencies to buy up - very wealthy man, lah.............."
David Chua's tongue was loosening. I ordered more tea.
".....well, lah, Mr Kader asked me if I wanted to set up on my own - I said of course, lah, who doesn’t, lah? Well, to make a long story shorter, he put up some money - we found an office - he sent me some stock and we started - all very good business, but you have to work hard here, lah - I've now got three salesmen here, two in Malaysia and several sub distributors. I opened our office in KL late last year. Very fast, lah. "
Chua looked genuinely out of breath with the speed of things. He looked up from his sixth cup of tea apparently wondering if that was sufficient. It was. But unfortunately for the poor guy I now had some additional questions.
"Your business looks very compatible with what we are looking for - right size, right set up - we could grow things together. How are you placed for raising money for investment in a venture like this? Bear in mind my client is a well established brand in UK and Europe. "
David Chua looked impressed but fidgeted in his chair. The second lot of tea was finished. "Ah yes, of course, lah - I would need to sort things out - talk to Mr Kader, lah."
"Tell me a bit about Mr Kader," I said noticing that David Chua was showing no signs of being under any instructions to keep quiet.
"He's from the Middle East. Offices all over. He recently set up in Hong Kong and he has a lot of business interests in Africa and other places. Rich man, lah, very rich."
"Is Al Zafar part of his organisation?" I asked innocently.
"Oh yes - forgot to say, lah. Mr Kader owns Al Zafar. It's a holding company. Very ambitious man is Mr Kader. Wants us to take on many new products. I keep telling him - slow down, lah - we are not ready for all this yet. But he is very keen, very keen. Push, push."
I now saw another opportunity. It was what I call, for my own purposes, the negative prompt. I use it often.
"So, perhaps our proposal may not be so interesting for him if he has ambitions in another direction."
David Chua clearly saw this might be the case. I pushed him further. "If Mr Kader has plans for marketing highly specialised drugs in Singapore would he have told you?"
Chua’s look changed to one of even greater disappointment.
"Ah, maybe no. He keeps many things to himself. But I know he has some big plans in Africa. He is setting up some sort of research facility there, which is somehow connected to his business in Egypt. Very complicated but he is a very busy man - a lot going on - very dynamic."
There was a moment’s pause as I allowed David Chua to self digest what he'd just said. The positive pause. Then I pushed for action. "So, how do we proceed with this?"
David Chua glanced up from his pondering of the tabletop and empty cups. "I'll try to speak to Mr Kader or email him. He likes to be involved with things like this." He said it proudly as if wanting to dispel any thoughts that he was desperate to earn a medal from Kader for his efforts. I encouraged him - the positive support.
"Which way would you take the company if you owned it outright?" I asked.
David Chua looked directly at me as if suspecting I might have something else up my sleeve that might be to his financial advantage.
"I think we should stay in the business we know," he said. "Expand and grow slowly, lah. We've not done badly since I started. What you propose may be very interesting. but I need more information."
It was enough. I moved as if to stand up and that seemed to loosen David Chua up. His face visibly relaxed. Always try to finish on a lighter note - it is often the only part remembered.
""So, life here still as hectic as ever?" I said, looking around the hectic hotel concourse. David Chua seemed relieved at a less searching question. He even sat back in his chair.
"Sure, lah - everything still big pressure. But we got to maintain kiasu or we wouldn't be Singaporean would we?" At last he chuckled slightly and lifted his cup to his lips only to find it bone dry. But then he said something which I was to remember over and over again during the coming weeks.
"Just too many people here," he said looking around. "Singapore is very prosperous but too many people, too crowded, too much stress, not enough time to relax." Then, he fidgeted again and glanced at a bare wrist as though it normally bore a watch. "You must excuse me, Mr Stevens, got to go now. The American I was supposed to meet here was delayed. All my schedule now big problem, lah."
"Americans, all the same, eh?" I grinned and then added, "Is he on his way in or on his way out?"
"Arriving late from a conference in Bangkok. Infection Control. You read about it? On TV news this morning, lah. In newspaper also."
"Oh, yes," I said. "I read about it. The American - another supplier of yours?"
"Livingstone. You know them? Another rich man - Greg O'Brian. He’s booked to stay here. I promised to pick him up from Changi. You know the company?" he asked again.
"The name is familiar," I said, although my tone in no way revealed an urgent need to glean as much information as quickly as possible. "Livingstone Pharmaceuticals?"
"Yes. It's linked to Al Zafar somehow. I usually meet their salesman, Mr Marshall, but this time the CEO himself is coming."
"So, what do they want, any idea?"
"Mr O'Brian and Mr Kader have a project in Africa but I'm really only interested in products such as yours, Mr Stevens."
I had, over the course of our conversation, noticed a change in his tone. David Chua now seemed to be falling over backwards to find reasons not to follow Kader into new ventures. I got up from the table, retrieved the bill lying under the tray and beckoned the waitress. "Thank you very much for your time. I'll take care of this and I'll be in touch as soon as possible."
