Singapore Sling Shot - Andrew Grant [115]
A passing police car slowed and stopped by the kerb. Sami stopped walking and turned towards the car as the officer in the passenger seat called to him. He wanted to know if “Uncle” was okay. Did he need a ride home? Sami gruffly thanked the policeman and told him he was fine. The policeman waved as the unit pulled away and Sami Somsak breathed a big sigh of relief. If the policemen had had any idea of what he was carrying in his suitcase, he would have been on a fast train to Changi Prison.
At some stage during the night, my nightmare about Simone and the bomb was dashed into the razor fragments of a painful memory. I woke with a start. I had no idea what had awoken me, but here I was, wide awake. At least when my mind had been lost in the fog, sleep had come often and deeply.
I lit a cigarette and flicked on the television to see what CNN’s version of world events was this day. It was 02:30. I was in time to see the latest fiery airliner crash. Suspected terrorist missile. Iran and Israel were once again trading verbal barrages. Some rising movie star had driven into a semi-trailer and was being likened to James Dean.
Then, as the tale of world woe continued, I made the decision as to how I was going to smoke out our spook. It was going to be face-to-face and direct. I stubbed out the first butt and lit another. Yeah, I know! My ration of five a day was in for a hammering.
As a last resort, I decided I would commandeer every mobile phone in the apartment and see who had called whom in that vital two-hour period between Sami’s call and Kaylin’s call to the funeral home. But first, I was going to conduct my own inquisition.
It would be gentle, but my antennae would be on full BS scan. The only bullshit that got past me was generally my own, but I was good at catching out liars. At times, back in the other world, that had been another skill that had made the difference between life and death. Would my skills at detecting who was and was not lying be as sharp now as they had been prior to my angel’s kiss? I guess I was about to find out.
Perhaps it was the simple fact that I had decided how I was going to proceed that did it, but I managed to drift back to sleep and this time it was dreamless.
It was a few minutes to 09:00. I’d showered and shaved and was dressed in my gear designed to scare the shit out of everyone. Wearing all black is one thing, but for this occasion, I added the shoulder holster under the lightweight leather jacket. The butt of the Browning showed clearly. I left my suite ready to go hunting bear.
Quong was in the apartment foyer. He was sitting at the desk. As always, an MP5 rested on the desk. Sami, it appeared, bought these by the tonne as well as the Brownings. We exchanged greetings in Thai and I entered Sami’s office.
That damn Samurai warrior statue, as with its twin back in Bangkok, made my heart lurch. It really was so fucking realistic. I skirted around the other end of the desk, keeping as far away from it as I could. Logic told me to treat it as some sort of oversized transformer or game piece.
That really didn’t work. Something about that ancient blade with its razor edge negated that theory. Any kid’s toy with that damn thing attached was a weapon of war in any language. Seated behind the desk, I ran through my options. Who should I summon first? My initial thought was that I had to start at the beginning. Kaylin had taken Sami’s call and delayed for two hours before acting on it. Or at least appearing to act upon it.
There was an intercom consul in the drawer to the right of the desk. Various locations were named, as were individuals. I pressed the button bearing the label “Kaylin”, presuming it was connected to her room. There was a long delay before a sleepy voice answered. I glanced at my watch. It was 09:05. I told her I needed to see her in Sami’s office and hung up.
Five minutes after the call, the housekeeper appeared.