Her Master's Voice

by Jacqueline George

  Tim sipped gratefully at his beer and half listened to the girls’ chatter. He liked sitting at a table with three pretty girls, and enjoyed the questioning glances they collected from passers by. Not that they noticed. Beautiful women are used to being looked at, especially when they are dressed up for an evening on the town. They were in no hurry to eat and Tim ordered his stomach to stop rumbling.

  Darti dragged Sherry off to look at the tourist junk on offer down the street but Ranji stayed to help him keep the table.

  “How’s your father going, Ranji? You’ll have to introduce me one day.”

  She smiled, not certain if Tim was proper enough to rate an introduction. “Yes, one day. He’s fine.”

  “Business good?” Tim persisted. “No problems came up?”

  “Of course there were problems! After I spoke to you the police came and found that shipment, but my father wasn’t involved with that place anyway. I don’t think any of his friends were either. I don’t know who it belonged to, but the Irishman was upset. He’d paid us, so he must have been paid already, but he says it’s not good for business if the police get involved. Someone put a bomb in his office, you know, and Papi Bombar told me that the people who were getting the shipment are blaming the Irishman. He thinks it’s their own fault. He doesn’t believe the Indonesians can keep secrets. He’s a racist like all the Chinese. He doesn’t like us either, but that doesn’t stop him taking our money when it suits him. Or other things.”

  Tim thought about the ‘other things’ the Irishman had taken from Ranji and laughed at her bitterness. “Never mind, Ranji. At least he appreciates you for a beautiful woman.”

  “But so do other people, and they don’t … well, you know.”

  “Maybe, but I bet they wish they could!”

  Ranji looked at him with more interest. “You think so?”

  “Of course! Every time they see you, and I do too.”

  She had the grace to look shy for an instant. “I could be persuaded, Tim…”

  “Oh, you’d have to see Sherry about that,” he chuckled. “She’s in charge of me.”

  “Mmmh—then we’ll have a long wait. She’s too beautiful, anyway. What do you want with Indian girls when you’ve got her? Or Indonesian ones either?”

  “You ladies are all beautiful. All different but beautiful, and I’m definitely not racist when it comes to women.” He thought his own thoughts about Ranji’s naked body as they sat and listened to the tinny Chinese music filling the air.

  They were satisfied and pushing their bowls away when an excited buzz announced the arrival of the girls. They picked their way through the tables in twos and threes, stopping to banter with the diners and moving on. They were glamorous, dressed like film stars. All had long hair, either their own or a luxuriant wig in chestnut or honey blonde. In their walk, their talk and their coyness they painted a provocative parody of real women. There was nothing, absolutely nothing, male about them but their fertile, sexy femaleness hardly felt feminine either. They were what they were, and right now they were the stars of the show. They slowly fanned out to sit with the tourists, gracefully accepting the offer of a drink and posing for photographs with fat Australian couples. The music switched to disco and the volume cranked up.

  Darti’s eyes were bright and she clapped her hands as she watched the display. She, at least, had no problem with billy boys. The atmosphere warmed and a couple of the girls got up to dance together for the cameras. They blossomed in the photo flashes.

  Darti wanted a photograph and called out in Indonesian to a pair of shorter dark girls. They came slowly, shyly to the table. One wore a long blue cocktail dress with a halter neck and a dramatic décolletage to show off her adolescent breasts. The other had a knee length red dress, light and flared. Tim recognised it. Janice came up to the table, embarrassed and determined not to know him.

  “Janice! What the hell are you doing here?” The rest of the table stared at him.

  Janice whispered something to Darti who clapped her hands again and shrieked with laughter.

  “You know her!” accused Sherry.

  “Yes. I met her offshore last month. She works on one of the crane barges. Or she did then. She’s a camp hand, with Renaldo the cook. I told you about him.”

  Darti laughed again. “Timmee suck cock!” she teased. “Very good, no?”

  Sherry was scandalised. Tim just sat there, looking a little uncomfortable it was true, but he had been playing with this—this person beside her. She could hardly believe it, and Darti said he had sucked her cock. She just could not imagine it.

  Darti noticed her. “Oh-oh! Sherry cross.”

  “No, no!” she denied it. “Not at all. Why should I be cross?” She held her hand out to Janice and invited her to sit down. Her friend had already squeezed onto Darti’s chair so in a show of defiance she moved her bottom over and pulled Janice down to share. All the time her mind was turning somersaults.

  “Photo!” called Darti, “We want photo.” A skinny Chinese man of uncertain age appeared from nowhere with a large Polaroid camera and flash. “Ten dollars three,” he shouted over the noise, holding up three fingers to make his point.

  Ranji would not stand for that. “Five dollars three,” she shouted back.

  “Cannot, lah,” tried the man half-heartedly, but he knew when he was beaten.

  “Five dollars three, lah,” insisted Ranji, closing in for the kill. The man shrugged and resigned himself. The girls squeezed together with their new friends and smiled for the camera. Tim put twenty dollars on the table and nodded to the photographer. The money disappeared and he kept shooting.

  “Timmee—with Timmee now,” shouted Darti. Janice and her friend came around the table and draped themselves over Tim, pushing their chests out to make the most of their assets.

  “Sit down, sit down,” the girls were calling and Janice sat on one knee with her arm around his shoulders and posed with their heads together. The photographer stopped to change film.

  “What are you doing here, Janice? Given up on Renaldo?”

  “No, I short time only with Mr. Renaldo. Now I come to Singapore on pinisi—how you say?” she turned to ask Darti.

  “Schooner. She cook on Makassar schooner.”

  “Yes. Schooner. We come Singapore empty for cargo, but now, no cargo and we wait. I like Singapore; I like come here. Every night—make money for photo. Very good.”

  “What are you two talking about?” demanded Sherry.

  “Nothing, love. She’s come here on a trading schooner, but it sounds as if they’re stuck here without cargo. She’s making money by coming here every night to have her picture taken. I’d better give her some.”

  “As long as it’s just for photographs…” and everyone laughed at her. The photographer started posing the two girls all over Tim while Ranji counted the pictures that were developing on the table. They divided them up so that everyone had souvenirs, even Janice.

  “It’s probably just nothing,” said Tim on the phone to Hangchi the next morning, “It’s just that I can’t see them coming all the way from the Mahakam delta empty. It’s not normal, and they must have got here just about the right time. I know she was working offshore there not long before I got attacked.”

  “What a nasty suspicious mind you have,” mused Hangchi. “You’re probably right and it’s nothing, but all the same, I think I’ll give the schooner wharf a call. I don’t believe in coincidences.”

  Chapter 30

  Hangchi was sitting alone in the living room when Tim returned home that afternoon, watching television and sipping a cup of tea with milk.

  “Hi—all alone? Darti getting ready?”

  “No, Tim. We have another problem. It’s the girl called Janice.”

  “Janice? What’s happened to her?”

  “Exactly. I called the schooner wharf as soon as you put the phone down, and they said they were holding a naked billy boy in the guardhouse and didn’t know what to do with her
. I told them to give her tea and biscuits, and wait for me, and to close the wharf off until I could get there.

  “So—there she was. Sitting in the sergeant’s office, with tea and biscuits just as I’d asked. They’d even run out to get some biscuits for her and set them out on a plate. At least the sergeant had been clever enough to lend her his uniform jacket to put around her shoulders, but apart from that she was naked and she’d been beaten. Nothing seriously wrong I think, but she’s not looking very pretty.

  “I asked what had happened and she said she’d got back to her boat last night after being in Bugis Street. She brought some photographs home with her, and two men—I can’t make out yet if they were crew or passengers –had recognised you in them. They started beating her and asking her questions about you, and then left her tied up and naked. They said they’d be back with more questions, so she spent the night wriggling out of a porthole and dropping into the water. She didn’t know where to go, so she’d run to the guardhouse. You can imagine what she looked like when she got there, naked, beaten and with her wrists still tied together, and that’s quite apart from being a billy boy. I think that had thrown the sergeant. After I called he realised he should at least have looked for her boat, even if it was in the Customs area.

  “Everything came in a big rush then. I locked the door on her, called for reinforcements and with the sergeant we ran down to find her boat. We needn’t have worried. It was still there, the crew lying around and fishing. Scared stiff of us, of course, and we had no trouble getting the story out of them. You were right. They’d come empty and were waiting for a specific cargo that should have been there a few days ago.

  “The two men, the crew gave us their names but I don’t know if they’re real, had something to do with the cargo. They’d been coming and going around Singapore, sometimes leaving the wharf to make phone calls to Indonesia. They never used the phone on the wharf. I’m beginning to think that one of them was a gentleman who was entertained by our old friend Wiranto and taken for a drive around Singapore. Including a slow drive past the Irishman’s office in Telok Blangah, hardly a tourist sight. I’m trying to get our driver’s description and our photos down to the wharf to check with the crew.

  “The men have gone now, of course. Apparently they came back to the boat in the small hours, found Janice had gone and left immediately. The crew don’t know where. Once I got more men out to the wharf we started a vessel-by-vessel search, but I don’t think they’ll find anything.”

  “Where’s Janice now?”

  “Upstairs, I’m afraid. Sherry and Darti are taking care of her. I think you’ve got another member for your harem.”

  “Oh no—not here. Sherry will kill me. Oh hell!”

  “I don’t think you need to worry. They were both clucking over her like a pair of hens when I brought her here. I’d sent out for a tee shirt and shorts for her, but she didn’t seem to like them much. What with the injuries and the wrong clothes, she looked a bit sad when she got here. I had the police doctor look at her, by the way. He sewed up a cut over her eye and gave her some cream, but apart from that he says she’ll be fine. Just needs rest and recovery.

  “Would you mind calling Darti down? I was going to take her out this evening, but it looks as if we may have to give it a miss. She’s busy, and I really ought to sit and think about what we’ve got on our hands at the moment. I don’t want to jump to conclusions but… Trouble certainly seems to follow you around.”

  Sherry stopped him at Janice’s door. “She really doesn’t want to see anyone, Tim. Those bastards really beat her up and she’s feeling very sore. Darti’s sitting with her.”

  Tim put his head around the door to smile and say welcome, and then went to size up Sherry’s mood. She was fine. Not cross or resentful of another guest, just protective of a new friend in trouble. They spent a quiet evening in front of the television while Janice slept upstairs.

  Hangchi came back next morning. He’d left his car somewhere and arrived on foot. He peered through the gate and found the girls outside, picking at a late breakfast. As soon as the gate opened Darti went off to make him tea. Sherry made room for him at the table.

  “So how’s the criminal world this morning, Hangchi?” she asked.

  “Fine, fine. Ticking over like clockwork. How’s your patient? Still sore, I suppose.”

  Janice looked at the table and mumbled something. She had combed her hair out to cover her cut eyebrow, but nothing could conceal the swelling and bruising that surrounded her eyes. Sherry spoke for her. “She’s having trouble drinking anything. Her mouth’s sore, and her head’s aching, but she’s taken some aspirin and that should help. Have you found the men who did it?”

  Hangchi sighed. “I don’t think we ever will, to be honest. I’d be surprised if they’re still in Singapore. Or if they are, they’ll be well hidden. That’s not what I’m worried about at the moment. I’m trying to guess what their bosses are thinking right now.

  “They know their guns have been seized, of course. They were blaming the Irishman, or perhaps they just wanted their money back from him. I’m guessing that’s why they only put a very small bomb outside his office. Just to make a point. Now they’ll be sitting in Jakarta or wherever they are and thinking that there’s a link between their boat and Tim. And through Tim to us, the Singapore police. They know that much about Tim for sure. That’s why they tried to kill him in Kalimantan. One of the two men off the boat must have been involved in that operation and recognised Tim from the photograph.

  “So I’m happy, taking all things together. They’re thinking that the weapons were seized somehow because of messages passing between Tim and Janice. They’re completely wrong and that can’t be a bad thing, but there’s something I need to know. Janice, which photographs did you have? Were Sherry and Ranji in them?”

  Janice looked uncertainly at Sherry who nodded encouragement. “Yes. Two photo with girls, one photo with Tim.”

  “Damn! That’s a worry. We didn’t find the photos when we searched, so I guess the two men still have them. There’s always a chance that someone will recognise Ranji. Not a big chance, I suppose, but it’s something else to worry about. Don’t mention it to her. There’s no point worrying her, especially when she can’t do anything about it.

  “Now, I want to take Janice down to my office. We have to get her a visa, and fingerprint her, and I want to show her some pictures of suspects and ask some questions. Darti can come too, as a translator.”

  Darti took Janice upstairs to lend her some clothes. Hangchi sat with Sherry, drinking her tea. “Is Tim in danger, do you think?” asked Sherry.

  “No. I don’t think so. I mean, those people are dangerous but only if you get in their way. So he was in danger in Kalimantan, because they thought he was actively working against them, but here, he’s not involved any more. There’s nothing he could possibly be doing that would hurt them, so they’ll leave him alone. They’d like to knock him on the head, of course, but they’re not going to risk anything to make trouble for him. Why should they?”

  “What about you? You’re working against them.”

  “I’m safe enough. If I got really successful they might have a go, I suppose, but this is Singapore. There’s really not much going on. If Islamic people want to hold a revolution, they’ll do it in Malaysia, not here. All the same, I don’t think I’ll be visiting Jakarta as a tourist.”

  “I hope you’re right. It’s not a nice feeling, knowing those people are running around out there.” Even thinking about it again made Sherry nervous.

  “Don’t worry about it. I’ll tell you who is in a much more difficult position, your friend Alistair. He lives right in the middle of all sorts of communities, and it’s only his traditional status that protects him. He does a lot more damage to the terrorists than I do.”

  Sherry lay half on top of Tim that night, thinking out loud about the changes in their lives. “Only two weeks ago—only two weeks,” she mused. “I wa
s living here, you were in Balikpapan.”

  “And you were living like a nun…”

  “No I wasn’t! We’d already been to ParadiseIsland, remember? Anyway, I wasn’t like a nun before.”

  “Yes you were. May be a Hindu nun. Do they have nuns? I’ll have to ask Ranji next time I see her.”

  Sherry ignored his insults. “And now our bedrooms are full. I like it better this way. There’s more fun in the house.”

  “True. When are you going to tell your mother you’re living with a transsexual?”

  “Oh no. Never. She wouldn’t understand what a transsexual is, anyway. She’d think I was talking about some kind of stand-up comedian. Besides, Janice makes a good woman. You’d never guess if you didn’t know. She’s really shy about how she looks. The first day she came she was so embarrassed until she got some panties on. She doesn’t mind showing off her breasts though, but you’d know all about that, wouldn’t you?”

  “Mmmh—seem to remember they were quite nice.”

  She hit him. “Pig! I can’t believe you sucked her cock. You did do that, didn’t you?”

  “Well, it seemed like the polite thing to do at the time.”

  “If I ever catch you doing that again… Did you like it?”

  “It was OK, I suppose, but she’s not very big. It gave me a big surprise when she came—I didn’t get any warning at all.”