Singapore Sling Shot - Andrew Grant [92]
Secure in his Nassim Hill citadel, Thomas Lu was a happy man. Michael, his former lover and Sami Somsak’s informant, was not. Rather than have him killed, Lu had come up with a punishment he considered even more fitting.
Michael Sun was in hospital in KL. He had been found lying in a ditch on the outskirts of the city. His tongue had been cut out. All of his fingers had been hacked off and as the final touch, battery acid had been poured over his entire body, with specific attention paid to his beautiful face. Michael Sun was no longer beautiful.
Sami hadn’t eaten. Neither had I, so we decided on a meal in the hotel restaurant. Neither of us did justice to our food. I damaged a bourbon or two while Sami just sipped at a glass of mineral water.
“This is probably not the time to say this, but Sakura asked that you be reminded of your promise. She suggested that three months from now would be a good time for you to visit.”
“We’ll see,” I replied.
“I believe Thomas Lu is back in town. Michael left me a message. If he’s not back yet, he soon will be.”
“Are you going after him again?”
“I’m honour-bound to get him,” Sami replied. “For Stanley and perversely for Carlos Mendez. If I don’t get him, the crazy Colombians will come back and get him. Imagine the collateral damage if they came in guns blazing.”
I could see Sami’s point. Singapore had been lucky that Sami had managed to put a collar around Carlos’s neck. The Colombians were not very subtle when it came to exacting revenge. Big bombs, machine guns and chainsaws were the tools of choice and while we had been causing more than a little mayhem of our own over the past months, it had been controlled, at least to the degree that innocent citizens hadn’t been in the firing line. A contradiction, I know, but there was a grain of truth in there.
“I’m going to see Simone,” Sami announced suddenly. “Are you coming?”
That startled me. I didn’t want to see Simone in death. I would rather remember her as I had last seen her: beautiful, vibrant and so very, very alive. I guess a shrink might say I was in denial, deep denial. Apart from my initial burst of grief and anger when I’d received the fateful call, I’d screwed my emotions right down. Simone was dead. I was alone again. That was it. The fairytale is over, Danny boy. Welcome back to the real world.
Sami was watching me. He could no doubt see the thoughts that flickered across my face. Poker-faced I wasn’t at this moment.
“Okay,” I agreed, wondering why I had given in. There would now be one more dead face in my dreams. Until I saw Simone that way she would always be the laughing, beautiful woman I had known.
Simone DeLue looked as beautiful in death as she had in life. Her makeup had been very lovingly applied. There was no trace of the waxy pallor of death on her face or her hands, which were resting crossed on her chest. There was a small white rose lying on her breast and a gold crucifix had its chain threaded through her fingers. Her hair gleamed in the candlelight. Her features were soft in the subdued light. It really was as if she was sleeping and would awaken any moment, turn her head and smile at me. I shook myself. Tears were starting to form.
“She looks absolutely beautiful,” I said, trying not to choke.
“I asked that they have the best person in Singapore prepare her,” Sami replied. “Fortunately, she didn’t suffer facial injuries. Her sister is on her way here now. She will stay to put Simone’s estate to rest and take the children back to South Africa with her.” Sami touched Simone’s hair with gentle fingers. He bowed his head and stood for a moment with his eyes closed, and then he turned away. “I’ll leave you two alone.” He eased out of the room.
The air conditioning was cold and I felt a shiver run down my spine. What did one do at moments like this? I’d been around death more than most, and I’d caused a lot of it. What I had never really done was spend time celebrating it or celebrating life at funerals or wakes.