Singapore Sling Shot - Andrew Grant [27]
“Jo is away on other business,” Sami replied smoothly. He was wearing his inscrutable face now and I couldn’t tell if he was lying or not. “But I need you back at my side, Daniel,” he added. “Hong Kong is not doing you any good. Will you do it?”
“Of course I will.”
9
I don’t like funerals, but I was fortunate in that this time I didn’t have to attend the huge service for Stanley’s family and his faithful retainers. Sami wanted me to be the invisible man. We were not to be seen together in public and all communication was to be via the pre-paid cellphone.
So once again I was to play Ed the Tourist from Perth. Tomorrow, when the dead were buried, we would formulate the plan to retrieve Stanley’s recorder. Sami hadn’t yet told me exactly where it was in the surrender room. Maybe he hadn’t wanted me strolling in and lifting it.
I decided to trust his judgement on this. The reality of it all is that we were in one of the most law-abiding, buttoned-up, safe, self-regulating corners on earth. People in Singapore notice things and they aren’t slow about coming forward. If I lifted the recorder in daylight, setting off the alarms, I was as sure as hell going to get noticed and a camera, or series of cameras, somewhere were going to capture my image. I’d have a street life expectancy of minutes, perhaps an hour or two, before I was caught. If I was any or all parts of the Chinese-Malay-Indian mix, I might last half a day on the run. That being the reality, I knew it would be better to do my pick-up run at night and in disguise and hopefully avoid those eyes and the inevitable cameras.
Simone wasn’t available to play tourist wife. She was at the funeral, as expected, so I did Ed from Perth as a solo act. I costumed up, including a broad-brimmed Akubra-type hat minus the dangling corks. Having schooled up with a guidebook, I headed for Changi Village. I had been there once in a previous life. I could have caught a bus, but playing the tourist for my character meant I didn’t know the city or the MRT and bus system. I cabbed it to the village and made my way to the jetty and a bumboat.
My ultimate destination, thanks to the guidebook, was the island of Pulau Ubin, also known as Granite Island, a sort of national park just a few minutes off the mainland. The trip only took fifteen minutes. The boat had a dozen or so people on it and it cost peanuts for the ride.
The island turned out to be a pretty laid-back sort of place, if you discount the million or so fish farms moored along the shore. The village information office near the end of the jetty provided me with another schematic map. While not to scale it gave me an idea about what was more or less where.
The village had a few small stores, a seaside restaurant and a fetish for bicycles. For a couple of dollars you can rent a bike from any one of half a dozen outlets. It’s a great way to get around and get yourself a sore arse in the process. I hate bicycles for just that reason.
I bought a couple of bottles of water and stowed them in my day bag. Then with my camera in hand, just like a regulation loopy, I set off to explore the island of Ubin. It was a few minutes to midday and it was both hot and humid. There was no cooling sea breeze to be found. Never mind, I wasn’t there to sightsee, I needed some serious exercise.
A few of my fellow passengers from the bumboat had decided to take the cycle option. With a lot of whooping and hollering, half a dozen youngsters shot by me as I plodded on along the road, heading to what my map told me was Pekan Quarry. The map indicated camping areas and huts all over the place and five former quarry sites, now filled with water. The granite moles had been busy once upon a time.
The contrast between the relatively deserted Pulau Ubin and Singapore, the island and city, was quite remarkable. For at least fifteen minutes I saw no one, and then a van loaded with people and bags went past, no doubt heading for one of the camps or the island’s sole resort.
I tired of the hard road surface and decided to explore the jungle.