Singapore Sling Shot - Andrew Grant [19]
“Housework,” I said to Simone, who breathed a huge sigh of relief. The mechanism of the pool cleaner was across the pool. It sat humming and spluttering as the diver worked. Some of the turtles were interested in the diver and his activities. He frequently had to push them away as he worked. None of them seemed to be trying to bite him; rather they were just bumping him with their shells. Given their size, some of these big bruisers would have had quite an impact. Even so, the guy just kept on cleaning.
We took the aquarium tour. I didn’t particularly enjoy it. After my time spent crawling through a wrecked submarine on the bottom of the Andaman Sea, I wasn’t as nearly as impressed as Simone was by the display, as good as it was. The sharks especially left me cold. I still had the vision of a giant Tiger shark steaming out of the blackness into the light from an underwater scooter’s headlamp, and racing away with a diver clenched in its huge jaws. Believe me when I say that is the stuff of nightmares.
“Let’s go get a drink,” I said as we emerged from the aquarium back into the sunlight. I felt a big cold shiver run down my spine and I momentarily forgot my companion of the moment was teetotal. Sharks can do that to one.
“Let’s,” came the reply.
By mutual agreement, we ended up back at the Sky Tower bar on the Imbiah plateau. It was 16:20. A huge chunk of the day had been spent touring the fort and aquarium. Simone had orange juice and ice while I damaged a pint of the sponsor’s brew.
“Did you get whatever it was you were after up at the fort?”
“I have absolutely no idea. I was flying blind,” I replied. “Sami wanted me to get an overview and see if I could spot any watchers. I got the former but didn’t see the latter.”
“Are you a spy?”
The question came so totally out of the blue that I must have registered more than a little surprise. I shook my head and tried to laugh it away.
“Whatever gave you that idea?”
Simone looked at me thoughtfully, her head cocked a little to one side. It was a good look.
“I accidentally heard Mr Somsak talking to Stanley about his friend Daniel. He said that his friend—you—had consigned his boss to hell and no longer worked for the British Government. He said he hoped that you would come work with him.”
“It is most unlike Sami to let someone overhear him,” I replied, taking a gulp of beer while I searched for a response.
“I was in my office next to Stanley’s. The intercom suddenly came on. I couldn’t help hearing what he said. Stanley had put his briefcase on his desk and it had jammed the talk button on the console down. I immediately went through and told him, of course.”
“Of course,” I replied, matching her grin for grin. I do believe she would have done just that. “So how come you call Stanley by his first name and Sami, Mr Somsak?” I was trying to move the conversation away from where it had been heading.
“I worked for Stanley for five years. He told me the first morning to call him that. I’ve only ever seen Mr Somsak a dozen times. He never asked me to call him by his Christian name.”
“Call him Sami,” I replied. “Everyone does.”
“Maybe,” Simone countered. Then she fixed her big blue eyes on mine. She hadn’t forgotten her original question, despite my rather feeble attempt to distract her. “I think you are a spy or a secret agent, or you were one.”
“Imagination and the wrong end of the stick, my good lady. I’m a security consultant, nothing more, nothing less.” I learned a long time ago that if you’re going to lie, stay within earshot of the truth. It’s easier that way. I finished my Carlsberg and waved the waitress over. I could have decided that the day was done and found a cab or grabbed the cable car across to the mainland, but that would have indicated she had been right and anyway, I was enjoying her company so why rush things?
“Is seduction on your agenda?”
For probably the first time in my life, I was absolutely speechless. Simone lowered her glass. Her big blue eyes stayed