Singapore Sling Shot - Andrew Grant [109]
“I’ll just play the amnesia game,” I replied. “I think after the past three days, they’ll buy that.”
Sami chuckled at that and nodded. “Yes, I think you’re right. Your background checks out. I had to provide a photograph, it was a close likeness, but it was not you.”
“Okay. I’m David Crewe. I thought I recognised the name they were calling out to me, but I didn’t know it was me,” I admitted. So, all I had to remember was my fake name. I could do that now, but yesterday, I wouldn’t have had a chance.
Thanks to my years with The Firm, Mr Crewe, along with all of my purloined passports and identities, had a history and everything that went with it. I’d become an expert at this over the years. David Crewe had an apartment and a business address in Hong Kong and the import-export company he worked for, Kavac International Ltd, actually existed. On computer records at least. An answer service meant someone always responded when the company telephone number was activated. A quick electronic shunt and David Crewe could answer from anywhere in the world. Incidentally, that guy also lived in my apartment, which was actually quite cramped, considering about twelve other identities lived there as well.
“Remember they’re not stupid, Daniel. They’re just lost in the mist,” Sami said softly. The warning was clear. “The enormity of the bomb on top of everything else that’s happened over the past few weeks has them very agitated. Play it safe, my friend. Amnesia is good. You did business with Stanley. You developed a relationship with his assistant Simone. You came back for the funeral. Got it?”
“Absolutely,” I replied. “So what about Lu?”
“They put out the full media list of the dead and injured two days ago. I’m not on it. So he finally knows I’m alive. He’s holed up in his palace.”
“Damn,” I muttered. It would have been perfect if Sami had managed to swing things so he appeared to be dead.
“I spread the word that I’ve gone back to Thailand to recuperate and bury Jo,” he added. “I had his body shipped back to his family.” It obviously hurt Sami that he wasn’t there for his friend’s funeral. I could see the effort it required to move on. “I have a plan and I’ll tell you about it in time.”
“One question: Simone … was she in that coffin?” I asked. That had been uppermost in my mind since I’d got it back in working order. I couldn’t stand the thought of her having being blown to pulp in the blast. Sami was shaking his head.
“The police found her in her original coffin in the warehouse the undertakers use as a transit depot to store their coffins and equipment. The coffin containing the bomb was an exact duplicate. The undertaker’s assistant and the driver didn’t notice the difference when they reloaded it back into the hearse.”
“Transit depot?” I was struggling to keep up with Sami’s words. My brain was understandably still sluggish and the painkillers didn’t help.
“When they have several funerals scheduled throughout the day and are busy, they don’t go back to their parlour which, as you know, is quite small,” Sami patiently explained. “Like a lot of funeral parlours, they have a warehouse they use as a way station. Because of the prior bookings at the cathedral, we had to have the service early while the burial had to be scheduled later, for the same reason. They needed the hearse in between times, so after the service, they stopped off and unloaded Simone and the flowers and went back to the parlour for another pickup. After that funeral, they returned to warehouse, reloaded the coffin with the bomb in it, and drove to wait for us outside the parlour in Clementi. Apparently, this sort of thing happens all the time.”
“Someone must have been on the inside to switch the coffins.”
“Obviously,” Sami replied grimly, “and we have a traitor on our team.”
To me, even lying there trying to get my brain back into full working