Singapore Sling Shot - Andrew Grant [137]
In deference to Sami’s still-mending wrist, K and I each took a side of the chair while Sami went ahead of us to check that none of Lu’s heavies had miraculously appeared. They hadn’t. We were almost at the edge of the terrace when Lu started to stir. Sami easily remedied that. K and I put down the chair and he pressed his stun gun against the back of Lu’s neck. Any pleas or resistance he might have offered were gone in a violent spasm that unfortunately threw him out of the chair.
K and I retrieved the stricken man. However, because we were only a metre or two from our destination, we left the chair where it was and half-walked and half-carried Lu to the railing. We leaned him there, giving him a moment or two to see his fate.
In the street below, across from the complex’s entrance, a white car was parked. It was a Mercedes. Despite the acute angle, I could see a faint red spark in the open rear window. Marco Mendez was sitting enjoying one of his Quai D’Orsay panatellas while he waited for the very final curtain to come down on Thomas Lu.
Lu was making gurgling noises in the back of his throat. His last pleas, which even if we had heard and understood them, were falling on the deafest of ears. He started urinating. Hell, I would have been doing that as well, standing there contemplating the long drop ahead of me.
“You killed Stanley and too many innocent people, Thomas. Time to go to hell. Goodbye!” Sami delivered his eulogy.
K and I picked Lu up, one of us on each elbow. He moaned in agony as I grabbed his strapped arm. K nodded to me. We drew Lu back from the edge. Then K and I stooped simultaneously. We each grabbed one of Thomas Lu’s skinny ankles, stepped forward and heaved upwards and outwards, releasing our grips at the apex of the arc. Thomas Lu cleared the balcony by a metre as he soared out into space.
“I guess you could say that’s a perfect Singapore Sling Shot,” I said to no one in particular.
“Bad pun, Daniel,” Sami replied.
We watched as Lu hit the forecourt below, inches from the parked Rolls Royce. The chauffeur had just finished wiping it down and got back into the car. The owner of the limousine was lucky. I doubted his insurance company would have met any damage caused by this act of God. Of course, there would be a few bloodstains to be removed from the side of the car.
Thomas Lu’s blood was pooling against the white marble paving stones on the forecourt. Across the road, a car horn sounded once and the white Mercedes pulled away. Ruby sparks exploded momentarily on the road beside it. The colours of the sparks matched the flare of the car’s tail lights as it disappeared down the road. One day soon, I was going to look at getting some Quai D’Orsay panatellas. I’d enjoyed the one I had smoked with Marco.
“Goodbye, Marco,” Sami said. “Let’s go!” We started back towards the side patio. I detoured slightly, just to check.
Kaylin was floating face down in the spa. Satisfied, I joined the others and we were whisked away into the night sky. Job done!
We were high above the penthouse and just starting our arc back towards the construction site when K pointed down at the front of the apartment building. The uniformed chauffeur and several other people were clustered around Lu’s body. Lights were coming on in the lower levels of the building. However, what had attracted K’s attention were the two furniture removal vans that had appeared from the condominium block’s underground garage. The two vans drove out of the complex nose to tail and vanished away down Nassim Hill Road.
“Jesus,” I muttered. “He wasn’t joking.”
“No,” Sami replied. “I don’t think humour is one of Marco’s strong points.”
“You know, you could honestly say that by killing