“Look, you two. Neither of you is likely to change your minds – or your spots,” said Marcia. “I admire your determination to search for the truth and get justice for those poor people who’ve been murdered, Ralph, but Peter is right; it’s just too dangerous. Better leave it to the professionals.” She shuddered at the use of the word murder.
***
A tailor in a small back street had measured and fitted Ralph with a cotton suit in less than an hour. Katie likewise had found a quiet shop away from the mayhem of Orchard Road and looked every bit the English lady in a cool lightly patterned cotton dress. Decked out in their more comfortable attire, they visited the Japanese Gardens in Jurong Lake Park. It was an oasis of calm as they crossed the Bridge of Double Beauty to the adjacent Chinese Garden.
“It’s interesting the contrast between the order and tranquility of the Japanese gardens compared to the visually exciting Chinese Garden,” Peter said as they walked along. “Look at those rest houses where you can contemplate the universe and the ordered design of the stone lanterns on the bridge. If you ever get a chance to listen to their early music it too is orderly and predictable. The Chinese Garden contains lots of shocks for the visitors and the same is true of their music. Take Lang Lang. He’s a perfect example of that determination to jerk you into consciousness.”
Marcia suggested that they visit the Butterfly Trail one of the big tourist attractions. It was crowded and Japanese tour parties were busily snapping their cameras at anything that moved.
“Careful where you tread,” Katie said as she sidestepped a pale green butterfly that had alighted on the path.
Without thinking, Ralph swatted at something he saw out of the corner of his eye as rows of camera snappers looked at him in open-mouthed horror.
“I’m afraid you’ve just killed a rare Peacock Royal,” Peter whispered under his breath. “Those tourists were about to capture a shot of the one that lighted on your shoulder.” Grabbing a startled Ralph by the elbow, they pushed their way through the stunned party who were now jabbering away as they studied the insect’s crushed remains. Back at the Hotel, Katie seemed a bit disconcerted. She explained that she had the distinct feeling that they were being followed.
“It’s probably just the crowds,” said Marcia. “I hate to say it, but they do all look alike to me. I’m sure they must feel the same way about us Westerners.”
“No it’s not that. When we left the Hotel this morning there was a man, English, or at least western, then I saw him in the Park and again as we came up the Hotel steps just now getting out of a green taxi. What do you think, Ralph?”
“You could be right. If the police have been told we are here they may have put a tail on us just to check on where we go.”
“You two are definitely paranoid about all this cloak and dagger stuff,” Peter said with a laugh. “Look why don’t we see if we can get a table for High Tea. There’s no way I could do justice to dinner after that huge lunch. Then later we can go out on the town and check out the nightlife.”
***
“I’ll just ask the concierge to see if he can find Stephen Chen’s parents number in the phone book while you order,” said Ralph.
“You must be joking. The name Chen in Singapore is equivalent to Smith or Jones in the UK. Unless you have a first name or an address it’s a hopeless task. Just let it rest, Ralph,” said Peter as he reached for the Raffles High Tea menu. “This looks good. The usual spread of sandwiches plus an incredible range of cakes and tarts; even good old English scones with clotted cream and strawberry jam. I wonder if they have it flown in specially from Devon?” Feeling slightly decadent but somewhat hungry after traipsing around all afternoon, they did justice to the fantastic spread.
Later that evening it was a bit cooler as they boarded the MRT train at Orchard Road.
“It’s a bit like any other city but a lot cleaner and safer,” Peter shouted.
As they walked along the crowded and noisy streets their senses were assailed by the smell of Asian foods, the cries of the vendors, the gaily coloured stalls and the music from the street dancers.
“If we are being tailed then the poor bloke will have lost us by now,” shouted Ralph as they forced their way through the crowds.
“Hey look,” cried Marcia. “It’s Bugis.”
“What did you say?” Shouted Peter.
“The famous shopping mall.”
“Well it didn’t used to be,” chuckled Peter. “Bugis was the place where sailors and gawkers would go to see what they called the trans women. You know transvestites. They used to gather there in their flamboyant getups to entertain the tourists.”
“But couldn’t everyone tell they were men?” Marcia asked.
“Well someone once told me that the drop dead gorgeous ones were transvestites and the rest were women,” said Peter.
“I hate it when you say ‘someone’ Peter,” said Marcia. “The ‘someone’ is usually you.” They all laughed as Peter, for once, did not have a ready reply.
Suddenly there was a shout as three men burst through the crowd brandishing wooden staves. A crushing blow felled Ralph to the ground. Peter managed to fend off the blows from the other two as he tried to shield Marcia and Katie. As Ralph went down he managed to catch the leg of his assailant and in spite of a searing pain in his shoulder he hung on. The crowd responded to the attackers who fell back under a barrage of angry blows from stallholders and the dance troop that had been performing for the tourists. Ralph saw Peter punch one of the attackers on the jaw. Then the last thing he remembered was a blow to the back of his neck.
***
Someone was shining a light in his eyes and there was a distinct smell of disinfectant as Ralph struggled to get up.
“Take it easy, sir,” said the young man as he restrained Ralph and introduced himself as the doctor on call at the hotel. On looking around, Ralph realized that he was in his Hotel room.
“What happened? How did I get here?”
“Your friends brought you in a taxi. They said that you were unfortunate to get in the way of some local youths who were working off some sort of vendetta. It sometimes happens in Chinatown. The traders can be very competitive and build up what I believe you call grudges.”
“Is everyone else okay?”
“Yes, they’re fine. They’re down at the bar.”
“Have the police been called?”
“I don’t think so. In incidents such as this it is usually better to not make a fuss.
“My shoulder aches a bit.”
“I’m not surprised. You may have some heavy bruising, but nothing appears to be broken. I’ll give you something for the pain and within a few days you should be as right as rain.”
Ralph thanked the young Doctor and swallowed two pain killers as soon as the door had shut. There was no way that the attack had been aimed at someone else. He remembered how the three assailants had singled them out. Katie must have been right when she said they were being followed. As he lay back he remembered Inspector Linham’s warning. Just then a tap at the door made him jump. He grabbed the bed side lamp just in case.
“How’s it going? The Doc told me you were ready for another round of Kung Fu with the local hoodlums.” Peter stood there with a glass of whiskey in his hand. “The girls are recovering downstairs and I said I’d check to see if you were awake.”
“Was anyone else hurt? How about your suit? It looks a bit worse for wear.”
“Katie got a blow to the side, but nothing too serious. The Doc took a look but said no ribs broken. She bashed one of those bastards good. I saw him go down. Never get on the wrong side of an Aussie girl. From what I saw she packs quite a punch. The poor sod looked most surprised at being knocked down by a woman.”
“And Marcia?”
“She’s fine. Kicked one of the sods in the plums. He won’t be queuing up in the marriage stakes for a while. Oh by the way, I think our chums tonight were your terrorist boys. Either the robes were a dis
guise or a dead giveaway. You get some rest old mate, and I’ll tell Katie that you’re waiting for some TLC.” Ralph just grunted as Peter closed the door and the pain killers started to do their job. The last thing he remembered was Katie climbing in beside him and switching out the light. He dreamt that Rupert Granger was the judge at the trial of the attack and that he was lecturing to a class of students who were all dressed like extras in Lawrence of Arabia.
The Doc was right. After a day of reading newspapers and magazines in the Garden Room of the Hotel and drinking copious cups of tea, he and Katie had fully recovered. He tried to hide the occasional wince that accompanied any sudden movement but got no quarter from Katie. As far as she was concerned it was all water under the bridge. Nothing new there, he thought, but nevertheless, what a girl.
“My appointment at NUS is at three, but I’m meeting the head of the local Chinese Chamber of Commerce before that, so I had better grab a cab if I’m going to make it on time,” Ralph said as he pulled himself up from the chaise lounge and went in to change.
Ralph had arranged a meeting with the Head of the local Chinese Chamber of Commerce before he left England. He wanted to find out how the small business sector operated in Singapore as they were most likely to be the ones employing business students from the NUS. If he was to make a success of the exchange programme then knowing the employment market would be key. He also had his own agenda. He hoped to find out how far Stephen Chen and Ryan Miller had been involved with the Chinese pharmaceutical companies.
***
Michelle Ho, tall, elegant and enigmatic, was every schoolboy’s dream Chinese Princess. When she rose to greet him, Ralph felt as though he had been transported back in time to the Emperor’s Palace during the Ming Dynasty.
“Professor Chalmers, it is an honor,” she bowed almost imperceptibly. “I hope that your shoulder has recovered.” He wondered how she knew about the skirmish in Chinatown.
“It’s fine, thank you.”
“Don’t look surprised. We are a small and peaceful community here in Singapore, and we have no secrets.”
“I had noticed that, in general it is a very peaceful country,” said Ralph, realizing that he needed to pick his words carefully.
His host had prepared a list of local businesses that employed students studying at the NUS. Ralph noted that most were studying for an MBA. Many firms were in the aerospace industry.
“We are small compared to British Aerospace or Rolls Royce, but we are slowly catching you up.” she nodded as someone moved silently into the room and deposited a tray of tea on a table at the side of her ornately carved desk.
“I am sure that you are interested in Dr. Stephen Chen’s work here.” Ralph was surprised that she was so forthright, but waited for her to continue. “I hope to save you and your friend Ms. Eggerton from any further trouble with either extremists or the government authorities. I have been informed that you are party to the British Official Secrets Act, and as you know, the treaty between our countries extends that confidentiality to Singapore as well.” She waited as Ralph put his cup down.
“I appreciate your concern, Miss Ho, but any information about Stephen Chen’s experimental trials with the SARS vaccine I learned from his fiancé Li and not through any official channels.”
“Yes. And now the poor girl is dead. So you can see that asking questions about Stephen Chen can be both dangerous and unwelcome.” Ralph listened intently as she explained how the Singapore Health and Science Authority had been lobbied by Stephen Chen and Ryan Miller, with backing from Kramer Pharmaceutical Company from the UK. Kramer wanted to bypass the conventional approval process for new drugs used in the United States and Europe that involved years of testing and introduce what is known as adaptive licensing. She explained that with adaptive licensing a new drug or vaccine could be approved for use on a group of patients who are in great need of treatment and be available for general use in months rather than years.
“So I assume that Stephen Chen and Ryan Miller had used this adaptive licensing approach to get their SARS vaccine approved.”
“Yes, that is correct. Both Kramer and the government expected that this quick approval process would enable them to save millions of dollars by short-circuiting the conventional costly and time consuming trials and approval process currently in use in the West. If this new licensing approach were adopted worldwide, then it would be possible to target research and have hundreds of new drugs approved and available quickly, fine tuning the product as the results of their application became known.”
“It sounds risky,” Ralph ventured, “but I can see how someone in desperate need would be willing to take that risk rather than wait years before a cure was approved.”
“Unfortunately many of the patients that were given the SARS vaccine died within a few weeks. The authorities were concerned that if word got out then it would stop any further talks with the WHO, the Americans and the Europeans about Adaptive Licensing. So you can see why Dr. Chen and Dr. Miller were effectively thrown out of Singapore. There were questions about the way patients were selected for the vaccine and it was all hushed up. We understand that Kramer then set Dr. Chen up at your University to continue the research. Whenever there is a large amount of money at stake there will be those who want to stop anyone from asking too many questions. Singapore has a strong economy but it is fragile in terms of social unrest. Terrorist groups are not the only ones who would want to harm you and your friends. It is likely that is why Miss Lei was silenced.” They chatted on as Ralph tried to take in the significance of what he had been told.
Thanking Michelle Ho for her help and concern for his welfare, he stood up to leave and promised to keep in touch as the relationship between Kingston and the NUS developed. She wished him a safe journey home.
Later that day he met with the Deans whose departments would be involved in the exchange program and found their response polite but cool. When he asked about Stephen Chen’s work, the subject was quickly switched to the details of student accommodation at Seething Wells, a name that caused great mirth among the Deans, although no one explained the joke to him.
***
The flight arrived back in Paris at 6 am, just in time for Ralph to make the 10:30 train from Gare du Nord. As the drone of the train lulled Ralph into a sort of half sleep, he thought back over what he had learned. Why had Miller kept quiet about his work with Chen at The NUS and just how involved had he been in setting up and conducting the trials? Was it possible that Chen had been dealing with the JI and had failed to give them what they wanted? Perhaps it had nothing to do with terrorists at all and relatives of someone who had died in the vaccine trials had sought vengeance? Could Miller have met Chen at Seething Wells and then gone back to his apartment at Charter Quay with him where they had a row? If Miller had killed Chen then what was his motive? And what about Claus Stein and Kramer pharmaceuticals. Could it all have been about the billions they might lose because of Chen’s trumped up reports? When the train pulled in to St. Pancras Ralph was no closer to unraveling the riddle than before he left.
________________
Chapter 11
Entering a village pub in England should not be undertaken lightly. The jovial publican and buxom barmaid encountered by Dickens’ Pickwick is a far cry from reality. A glare from the locals at a stranger in their midst may not be a deliberate attempt at intimidation, but Ralph felt it nevertheless.
With the New Year celebrations behind them and winter really beginning to bite, many longed for warmer climes and some of the patrons were warming themselves by the log fire. For Ralph it was a relief to be out of the heat and humidity of Singapore. His regular pub was the Blacklion but tonight he felt like a change so had opted for the Lamb, just the other side of the old Brighton Road. He had heard rave reviews from some of his colleagues, and when he walked in he could see why. The sofa’s were draped with colorful throws and the pictures and paintings were retro 1970s. The décor provided an atmosphere mor
e reminiscent of a club than a pub. There was no widescreen telly in sight and you could sit and contemplate the world without being interrupted by shouts from the Hooray Henrys watching the football. Not the sort of place students from the nearby Seething Wells Halls of Residence would frequent, that’s for sure. As Ralph adjusted to the dim light he noticed a large man sitting at the bar with a whiskey lined up beside a pint of beer.
“Excuse me. Are you Richard Windham?” He received a nod. “I’m a colleague of Jack White’s. He told me I might find you here.”
“Do I know you?”
“No. I’m in the Business School at Gypsy Hill. I met Jack and Harriet Warner the other day over at Penrhyn Road.” Ralph could not believe how clumsy and gauche he sounded. Maybe the beating in Singapore and the jet lag were taking their toll. Fortunately Windham had already had a few and didn’t seem to notice. He had hoped to run into him and that was why, at least in part, he had decided to try the Lamb. With a bit of luck the meeting might help him to close at least one loop in finding out who had killed Stephen Chen. Windham turned to look at Ralph.
“Are you joining me for a drink?” Ralph tried to maintain an air of friendship.
“I’m having a pint of bitter, can I get you a refill?” Ralph slid onto the empty stool next to Windham’s and gestured at his half empty tankard. He saw a row of similar pewter tankards hanging on the wall behind the bar, many with a name printed on each side. Evidently the regulars had their own for when they came in. Another nice touch, he mused.
“Thanks. Why don’t we go and sit over there,” Windham mumbled, gesturing in the direction of an overstuffed sofa set against the wall near the entrance. The rest of the pub’s clientele were busily engaged in conversation, probably swapping the latest jokes or arguing politics, while one couple was huddled in a tete-a-tete. Windham sank back in the soft cushions letting out a deep groan.
“If you’ve spoken to Warner I assume she told you all about me and Stephen Chen.”
Murder at Seething Wells (The Ralph Chalmers Mysteries Book 5) Page 11