Chapter 48
GOODWOOD PARK
Ennis woke up at six, the room was freezing. He had fallen asleep early the previous evening dead beat, forgetting to switch off the air-conditioning, it felt rather like a winter morning in England and he lingered on in the warmth of his bed dozing. When he next looked at his watch it was seven twenty, daylight was filtering around the corners of the curtains.
With some effort he pulled himself out of his bed and pulled back the curtains. He looked out onto a splendid the view from his room at the Goodwood Park. Visibility was around half a kilometre in the first couple of hours of daylight, a pall hung over the city from the fires that raged in nearby Sumatra. The culprits, according to the media, were the slash-and-burn farmers as well as plantation owners.
The reality was more complicated, the fires were the result of unresolved conflicts between the large plantation owners and villagers concerning compensation for their forest gardens arbitrarily confiscated or ‘bought’ for palm oil plantations. The gardens were the very sites that burned first as the fires spread until the rainy season arrived.
The economic life of the villagers suffered as the result of the losses of rattan stocks, rubber and fruit trees, and crops extracted forest resources. In addition they suffered health problems with diseases caused by the drought, failed harvests and a general lack of resources. Their environment was devastated with forest trails and rivers made impracticable because of fallen trees. Their despair then turned to anger, frustration and rage as the authorities plunged into political and economic crises ignored their plight.
He could hear the low rumble of the traffic which moved slowly along outside and could see the tower of the nearby Dynasty Hotel, with its green tiled umbrella roof, standing out from the other buildings on the nearby skyline.
The Goodwood had been his home on any visits to Singapore. The hotel was built in a grand colonial style, not British, it was formerly the Teutonia Club, built for expatriate Germans in 1899. The present owner was a Singaporean entrepreneur and banker, a Chinese Malaysian with close relations to the Brunei royal family and who had been one of the very rare foreigners to have set up a bank in Brunei. The Sultan stayed at the Goodwood when he visited Singapore; naturally he occupied in the luxurious Brunei Suite looking over Scotts Road.
Ennis picked up the newspaper that had been slide under his room door as he went to the bathroom and glanced through it briefly, there was nothing of interest in the Straits Times, more news of the economic crisis and Kenya’s population growing at four percent per year. No immediate disaster that could upset his day’s plan he thought sleepily as he stepped into the shower dropping the Times on the seat cover of the toilet. He spent ten minutes under the hot shower, he had always felt that his morning shower was one of those luxuries in life that was still more or less free and put him in form for a good start.
He had had enough of hotels and had decided it was the moment to acquire a more permanent base in Singapore, property prices were depressed and his own business was doing well. It would be a place where he would feel at home, relax and work if he were to set up a gallery in the city.
The previous evening he had received a call from Erkki Erkkila who had set up an appointment for him with the property manager of the Singapore Port Authority at the Hilton on Orchard Road to visit the properties available. As soon as he was ready he went directly to the Hilton, where he could first take his breakfast in the coffee shop, the short stroll would stimulate his appetite. He walked into the hotel lobby and looking around thought as he observed those present that the person to whom a statue should be built in Singapore was not Raffles but Thomas Cook. Without him the tourist industry in Singapore would not exist.
Most of the tourists were from down-under. There was a group of middle aged, short sleeved, hardy looking Aussies gathering with their faded looking wives. They were preparing their shopping expedition, unfortunately the shopping centres in Singapore opened late, at about ten-thirty. He saw the older men were wearing their national costume, shorts and long white socks.
He went to the concierge’s desk to leave a message for Lee that he would be taking breakfast in the coffee shop. As he waited he watched the toing and froing of the hotel office staff and messengers, arriving with envelopes and packages, pert little Chinese girls looking fresh and relaxed in their white shirt like blouses and short skirts.
He looked around as if expecting to see someone that he knew, but there were only one or two young Chinese businessmen speaking English with Singaporean accents and a tourist guide picking up her Aussie group.
There was a European leaving with his local girlfriend. She was probably not as good looking as she had been the night before Ennis thought cynically she now looked like an exotic flower…slightly wilted.
He found the coffee shop and was invited by the waitress to the buffet where he helped himself to bacon and eggs with fresh tropical fruit salad. As he ate he mentally went over his plans for the following few days before the Port Authority representative arrived. He checked his watch and saw that he would have time to check the flight departures with Royal Brunei Airlines, which was just across Orchard Road in the Orchard Towers Shopping Plaza. He calculated that if he could find a flight the next day in mid-afternoon he could be in Bandar Seri Bagawan by the early evening for his meeting with Robert Guigulion and the Brunei Museum people.
As he idly watched an Aussie, who seemed to be having difficulties in filling his mouth with an enormous quantity of egg and bacon and who seemed to be filling up for the day he thought that perhaps he should call Robert after breakfast. His thoughts were interrupted when suddenly he bit on something hard he felt around his mouth with his and found a piece of tooth that had given way under a hard rind of bacon.
An expensive breakfast he reflected snapping out of his revelry, his breakfast was spoilt, he paid his check and he left sucking his broken tooth making his way to the concierge who pointed out James Lee who was waiting in the lobby lounge.
Erkki had explained that the Port Authority arranged accommodation for their expat staff and often had good empty property for sale or rent at better than market prices. Lee had three houses available, however the choice was not difficult, Ennis accepted without hesitation the first they visited. It was a traditional colonial type home, in the River Valley district of the town, one of those black and white English style houses, the porch as well as the walls, up to the sills of the imitation Tudor type of windows, in red brick. It was like a grand version of an upper class home in the Surrey stockbroker belt; surrounded with lawns, flowerbeds and two tall palms on either side of the driveway, leading to the main door of the house.
The garden trees were heavier and more tortuous than those in England with epiphytes clinging in hollows formed where the branches spread out from the trunk, long creepers and stranglers hung from the branches, where brightly coloured birds darted after large insects.
James Lee explained that the Singapore Port Authority had inherited the house from the organisations colonial past and it was becoming difficult to let as expat families got smaller and their stays shorter. Ennis agreed to rent the property with a one year purchase option The district was well shielded from the housing estates, to one side by a park, and to the other side by the botanical gardens from the office buildings that seemed spring up overnight in Singapore, it was difficult to imagine that they were so near to the city centre.
A large veranda overlooked the garden and Ennis imagined the garden filled with guests for a garden tea party, or relaxing after a game of tennis on the red clay court on a Sunday afternoon.
A housekeeper, Mrs Wang, came with the house and a gardener called almost every other day, both paid by the Port Authority. Lee even proposed to Ennis a driver which he declined as he did not possess a car and was not sure that one was really necessary in Singapore.
His next task was the Chamber of Commerce to investigate setting up a company in Singapore to handle his
business and the Gallery that he was planning, the main activity would be oriental art, and also to facilitate sale of the cargo from the Brunei junk using the company as a transit point for import and export of the goods. He had considered several solutions including forming a new company, but had finally decided that that the acquisition of a dormant company would provide the maximum discretion, avoiding the usual circuits of banks, agents and government services.
An existing company that had been established several years previously but which was dormant was the ideal solution. To carry out a search he had contacted the Chamber of Commerce, where he had introduced himself as a visiting consultant seeking a business for a client.
He had contacted Mrs Ling, the manager of the Chambers library and archives service, she had proposed that he use their databank that listed all existing companies on the island. She had been with the Chamber many years; he figured her experience would come in useful. Mrs Ling had a style, which combined obsequiousness, efficiency and gently authoritative.
‘Oh, Mr Ennis, it’s so kind of you to come to see us, such a long way, we are very happy to have you here with us, I hope we can help you.’
She promptly organised his mornings introducing him to a young woman, Nanh Thanh Nguyen, who would guide him through the databank.
‘Mr Ennis, Nanh Thanh will help you, she is French!’ she said with a broad smile delighted with her little surprise, ‘But she speaks English perfectly, I will leave you to your work now and we will meet again at lunch time, I hope you are free.’
Ennis discovered that Nanh Thanh had been born and brought up in Paris, her mother was French, her father half Chinese half Vietnamese. She was fluent in Vietnamese, Mandarin and French, but her English was typically French, poor but charming.
As soon as Mrs Ling had left them Nanh Thanh immediately explained that although she had the title of ‘executive’ in charge of the library, she had very scant computer training and barely knew how to enter the search data. She had only recently joined the Chamber on an exchange programme with Paris. For Ennis this was a blessing in disguise, it would permit him to freely peruse the databank, selecting a suitable target without suspicion concerning his goal.
It did not take him long to draw up a list of six companies which seemed to conform to the kind of background that would fit their purposes.
Ennis did not refuse the opportunity to get to know a little more about Nanh Thanh, whom he soon found was an attractive and charming young woman. She was at ease in both worlds, amazingly relaxed and open. He told her about the world of fine art and his occasional expeditions to Borneo and the islands, she was fascinated by his story.
Mrs Ling invited them to lunch in an odd Chinese restaurant on the roof of a nearby office building, the restaurant rotated slowly, giving them an ever unfolding panoramic view of Singapore. The food at best could have been described as uninteresting, Mrs Ling had erred in thinking that they would be more interested in the architecture than the food. The occasion was not wasted on Ennis, whilst politely flattering Mrs Ling, he obtained the name of a young business lawyer who had been in practise about two years and who by all accounts could do with another client. When Mrs Ling left to powder her nose he fixed dinner with Nanh Thanh that evening.
Tsang agreed to see Ennis on very short notice that afternoon, confirming Mrs Ling’s hint that he was not overloaded with work. His office was modest in a recently constructed low rent business centre. Tsang was a young man who was serious and ambitious; he had come from a modest background and had acquired his degree in business law through his own hard work.
Ennis quickly explained that he wanted Tsang to act discreetly on his behalf to investigate the companies he had short listed that morning and the possibility of acquiring one of them. This was to be carried out quickly and discretely, the final choice being referred to Ennis. He advanced Tsang five thousand Singapore dollars to cover his initial expenses, which he accepted with evident satisfaction.
Nanh Thanh met him at the Goodwood Park; he was relaxed and pleased with the results of his day’s work. They quickly agreed that they go for good food rather than candlelight and wine.
They took a cab to the Hawker centre on Raffles Quay, where in the general noise and hubbub, they chose one of the open-air stands that seemed to have what they were looking for; lacquered duck, dumplings, soup, ducks livers, Chinese eggs and a variety of vegetables with fried noodles, they both drank Singah beer frothing on ice cubes all followed by fresh pineapples, papayas and mangoes. They finished with jasmine Chinese tea as the noise and movement of the Hawker Centre whirled around them.
It was excellent; there was no Chinese food better than in the Hawker centres. Covered in grease and sauce they washed their hands under the open taps at the communal washbasins. Laughing in the warm soft evening air they decided to visit the evening market and took a taxi to Bugi Street. It had recently begun to require a name that was reminiscent of its florid reputation of the past, there was a renewed atmosphere about the district and they enjoyed the lights and the bustle of the market amongst the exotic wares and the cries of the stall owners.
Nanh Thanh was delighted to find someone who relished as she did the East, in a strange sense she was discovering her own cultural heritage.
The next day Tsangs investigation produced a suitable company, Far East Trading Pty., which Ennis instructed him to acquire. Tsang would draw up the papers and complete the formalities, holding the company shares on his behalf until further instructions.
The Lost Forest Page 49