Singapore Sling Shot - Andrew Grant [52]
“Will there be girls at dinner?”
Thomas Lu nodded. He knew that in addition to his sadistic traits, Mendez was sexually insatiable. The Mendez brothers had entertained Lu several times while he was in Bogota, and on more than one of those occasions he had witnessed Raymond’s appetite for sex first hand. The man’s sadistic side had been evident there as well. He was notoriously rough with those women who were unfortunate enough to end up in his clutches.
The “girls” Lu had engaged for the evening were escorts. He had warned the madam who was supplying them about Raymond Mendez’s tastes and she had promised to send girls with a masochistic bent, girls who would do virtually anything if the money were right. Thomas Lu was prepared to pay the fee. He needed to keep Mendez out of trouble and maintain as low a profile as possible. It was a big task; however, the last thing he wanted was for Mendez to brutalise a woman and end up in court.
Lu knew there was no way that he could discuss this with the man without Mendez reacting the only way he knew how.
There is no reasoning with a maniac, Thomas Lu thought as they glided onto Fullerton Road.
I awoke late in the afternoon and when I went to use the bathroom, I found that every bone and every tiny muscle in my body was screaming at me. I filled the bathtub with water as hot as I could bear and climbed in, a hefty glass of bourbon in hand. I turned the spa jets on full and lay in the tub absolutely cooking. Now I replayed the events of the night. I ran the mental spool through from beginning to end, analysing it with the eye of the professional I had once been.
I concluded that I had been hellishly lucky to get away with things. Lu’s thugs had outgunned me and the cops had come so close to catching me. Running along the train line had been a brainwave but the jump from the bridge into the water had almost got me, and the swim, combined with the madness in the container farm, should have taken me out of the game, given my level of non-fitness.
“Here’s to a very lucky lad,” I muttered, raising my glass in a toast to myself.
Later I got even luckier. Simone arrived. We dined in the hotel and afterwards she gave me a massage. Before the massage segued into a lovemaking session, she dealt expertly with my remaining aches and pains. It appeared she had trained as a massage therapist in her younger days. She hadn’t forgotten her technique.
Because she had a sleep-in sitter minding her children, Simone spent the night. She had brought a change of clothes for work. We had a room-service breakfast and then I kissed her farewell as she left. Standing at the door watching her go, I couldn’t help think this was almost a classic scene of domesticity. I stood at my door and watched her until she entered the lift.
“Damn,” I muttered. Was I in danger of taking this thing to another level?
It was only 08:35 and I was already at a loose end. Killing time comes hard for me. I don’t play golf or tennis. I don’t do bus tours or shopping. Recreational sex is, of course, a great way to pass time, but I’d had my share of that for the moment. A pub-crawl was out because I had my date with Sami that evening and sobriety was most probably a prerequisite. I thought about another session on Ubin. I’d enjoyed getting back into the bush, and walking was one thing I did do well.
Whatever I was planning never got beyond that because my cellphone rang.
“Dan, Sami’s in hospital.” The voice at the other end was speaking Thai.
“Jo?”
“Yeah, Dan.” Jo reverted to English. “I got in last night. Sami was coming out to meet me. He’s okay, shaken and stirred and a broken arm. They’re running tests.”
“How?”
“Truck hit his car on the East Coast Parkway. Edward, his driver, was killed. The truck driver ran. The truck was stolen.”
“Lu?”
“Sami thinks so. He told me to tell you that tonight is off. He’s rescheduling the meeting for Monday.”
“Okay. I’ll come and see him.”
“Negative. He wants you to stay off the radar.