Singapore Sling Shot - Andrew Grant [124]
I glanced at the floor counter mounted above the door. Level nine.
Shrugging on my jacket, I got in the next lift to arrive. Like Miss Blue, I avoided looking up at the monitor just in case it was being taped. I pushed the button for her floor. I had no idea just what I was going to do when I got to unit 09-04. What if Miss Blue was not alone in the apartment? That was something I’d just have to take a chance on.
I arrived at level nine. The open landing had four doors off it. Two of them were closed behind their wrought-iron security screens. One door was open, with just the security screen closed and padlocked, letting the humid air circulate while keeping out any stray burglars. The security screen to Miss Blue’s apartment had been left half-open; however, the door behind it was closed. Was it locked? Was Miss Blue expecting someone to call? Was there anyone else in the apartment? Her aged father, perhaps? Or a rambunctious young brother, boyfriend or husband who would want to deal with any intruder?
I never go anywhere without gloves of some sort in my pocket. The ones in my inside jacket pocket were latex, a thicker version of the standard surgical model. I pulled them on and shut down my imagination. The door was unlocked! I didn’t need to try and pick the lock mechanism.
Taking a deep breath, I pushed the door open and stepped inside.
46
Sami Somsak, still in the guise of the little old Chinaman, was pleased, very pleased. Everything was neatly falling into place. The old man was sitting on the edge of a concrete planter taking his leisure as he had done for several days. As always, his small battered suitcase sat at his feet. Across from where he was sitting, construction on the new apartment building was going well, but his eyes weren’t on the construction site. He was watching the front of the towering building two down on the same side, waiting for a sighting of the man he would soon kill.
Almost on cue, the gold Bentley swept out of the underground car park and onto Nassim Road. Lu was out of his fortress and on one of his rare expeditions since the cemetery bombing. Following the luxury sedan came a black Range Rover, no doubt filled with Lu’s bodyguards.
“When the time comes, they will do you no good whatsoever,” the old man chuckled to himself. “No good whatsoever.”
I was in a small foyer. To my right was an open-plan living room and I could see two doors opening off it. To my left were three doors. Somewhere to my right a door slammed. Back on my left what I took to be washing machine whirred. I stood motionless, trying to interpret the sounds. I moved into the entrance to the living room. There was a kitchen on the left with a servery and breakfast bar opening into the living room. There was music playing softly, the sound emanating from the speakers of a home theatre set-up. A large television screen dominated one wall of the room. A toilet flushed. There was a bathroom, beyond the kitchen but it was out of my line of vision.
I heard the sounds of a shower being turned on. Miss Blue, it appeared, was about to wash away the results of her exertions. I drifted back to the main door and closed it. I slid the intruder chain across and pressed the locking knob on the door handle to set it. While Miss Blue was occupied in the shower, I quickly went from room to room checking for any other occupants. There were four bedrooms, all of them empty.
Miss Blue’s bedroom was the largest. It had two doors, one to the living area, and one that either opened into an en suite or at the least allowed her access to the bathroom area.
I knew it was her room because her blue suit was spread across the bed. Shoes were lying on the floor along with a bra and panties. It appeared Miss Blue hadn’t wasted any time at all getting into the shower. From the amount of splashing, she was having quite a time of it in there.
The bedroom had its own television. There was a sound system. Nice prints and maybe a couple of original paintings