Singapore Sling Shot - Andrew Grant [2]
The tram reached the first plateau and pulled up in front of the long, two-level building that Loh knew held the souvenir shop on the ground floor and the surrender rooms above. Suddenly he had an idea where he could hide the recorder.
The stop at The QuarterMaster Store, as the souvenir shop was known, had been to pick up another guide. Now Loh stood up and brushed past the guide as she came aboard.
“Toilet,” he managed to blurt out as he stepped down. The guide pointed down the slope to a building set below the plateau. Loh knew very well where the toilets were, but he had no intention of going in that direction. He waved the driver on.
The tram started off again, heading on up into the fort complex. Loh turned to look back the way he had come. The two remaining gunmen were jogging into view on the driveway below. They were almost at the guardhouse and they had seen their quarry. Like the hounds they were emulating, they increased their pace. There was no sound of baying; rather the sound of bugles and drums fill the air above the rasping of Stanley Loh’s breath.
Loh started for the steps to the left of The QuarterMaster Store. These stairs he knew led to the surrender rooms. Gasping as his asthma continued to tighten its terrible grip on him, Stanley Loh staggered up the stairs. This was the exit from the surrender rooms. He didn’t care. As he stumbled into the foyer, he hoped that there was no one in the nearest chamber.
The sliding door into the long surrender room stood open. Loh knew that this room was a replica of those used in WWII. Beyond it was a much smaller room where the Allies had surrendered to the Japanese signalling the fall of Singapore.
In the long room mannequins of uniformed soldiers and sailors stood against the walls. Seated at long tables on either side of the central walkway were figures of the surrendering Japanese and their Allied victors. Some were signing or studying the surrender documents, others were just sitting staring blankly at nothing.
The wax figures, although crude, created a powerful aura. But Loh wasn’t interested in the historic significance of the tableaux laid out in front of him. There was no living person in this room other than himself. He could hear voices in the room beyond, above the sound of the recorded commentary.
He stumbled on, gasping like a broken steam engine. He was still clutching the tiny digital recorder in his left hand. The device was a little larger than a cigarette lighter. He stopped. Now he could see what he was looking for—the perfect hiding place. Loh moved forward, pressing against the wooden railing. He stretched desperately to reach his goal.
As he leaned across the railing to secrete the tiny silver device amongst the frozen figures of the tableaux, a buzzer sounded. He had broken an invisible sensor beam and triggered the alarm. Desperately, Stanley Loh stilled his gasping for a moment and by leaning as far as he could without falling over the thigh-high railing, he managed to slip the recorder into the hiding place he had selected.
Satisfied that the recorder couldn’t be seen, at least by any casual observer, Loh withdrew and the buzzer immediately stopped sounding. But now he wanted the alarm to sound. He needed to summon help. His asthma attack would kill him if he didn’t get aid, and soon. He also needed people around him as protection against Lu’s thugs.
Loh collapsed to his knees and leaned against the railing, his arms dangling inside it. He had intentionally broken the invisible beam again and the buzzer sounded.
The guide escorting a party of tourists through the first of the surrender rooms came rushing into the long room in response to the reactivated buzzer alarm. She saw the gasping man sprawled across the railing.
“Sir?” the young girl called urgently. “Sir, are you all right?” The guide tentatively touched Loh’s shoulder and he slowly turned, letting his arms fall to his sides. He had done it; hidden the recorder and gained the attention he so desperately needed.
“Asthma,” he managed to gasp. “Doctor!” Stanley Loh was