I glanced at them too, as I settled, as best I could, into the uncomfortable plastic bucket they’d provided for me; it had been designed for an arse slightly smaller than mine, deliberate no doubt, to put the guest at a disadvantage from the off, and maybe even get the occasional cheap laugh, if he reacted to it.
Two faces jumped out at me from the crowd, one beaming, the other smiling shyly. There were three rows, and Sammy Grant was at the back, looking as chuffed with himself as Mai Bong did. Marie Lin was front and centre: she’d changed out of the blue uniform into a long black dress with a slit in the side that showed something I hadn’t noticed before. She had great legs.
‘Okay-lah!’ Mr Mai squealed, in a high-pitched voice. ‘Welcome to Singapore, Mr Jardine. First visit?’
The guy had just opened his mouth and he was annoying me even more. ‘You’ve obviously invited the wrong bloke,’ I told him, being careful to smile as if I meant it. ‘Douglas Jardine, the guy you’re talking about, was a part I played. Look,’ I rubbed a finger across my freshly shaved top lip, ‘the silly little moustache has gone, plus I’m not wearing whites and a cap.’ I was actually wearing a Siegfried and Roy T-shirt that I’d bought in Las Vegas, with a big white tiger on the front. ‘Please, Bong, let’s not confuse the people at home and in the studio, especially the lovely Marie there in the front row, who took me for a river-ride this morning, and my fellow Jock, Sammy, at the back, who tried to get me hammered in the Crazy Elephant last night, then gave up his hung-over Sunday to show me Sentosa. My name’s Oz Blackstone, okay-lah.’
I turned back to the audience. ‘Hey, Sammy, pal,’ I called out. ‘How did you get in here? Did you just walk in off the street?’
‘Aye,’ he replied, his voice amplified by one of the live mikes that hung above the seating. ‘That’s how it works. You just queue up, like. Ah’ve never done it before, but it’s dead easy.’
‘It can’t be all that big a show if you can do that,’ I fired back at him. ‘They told me this was big-time.’
‘This? No’ really. It’s all right, but the bigger shows are on cable telly.’
I turned back to the host. ‘So what about it, Bong? Your producer told me you’ve got the biggest viewing audience in South East Asia. My friend in Britain, Mr Parkinson, won’t be very impressed when I tell him you’ve been pulling my chain.’
‘We have huge audience.’ The little man chuckled, his lips tightening. ‘Huge.’
‘Maybe yes,’ I conceded, ‘maybe no, but you do have an intelligent audience, because they’ve chosen to come and listen to me and Eric the Red. Tell you what,’ I said to them, ‘between now and the commercial break, why don’t we all just have a chat among ourselves?’ The host opened his mouth, but I cut him off, still being careful to smile. ‘Relax-lah, Bong: you know it makes good telly, and good publicity. You’ll be on the news pages tomorrow.’ I held up my hands and made quote marks. ‘Can you see the headlines in the Straits Times? “Rowdy Scottish actor tells Mai Bong to piss off on his own show.” That won’t do the ratings any harm at all.’
I scanned the crowd. ‘Okay-lah,’ I said. ‘Hands up all the people with the planted awkward questions designed to embarrass the guest and make the host look good. Come on,’ I laughed, ‘enter into the spirit of the occasion. Like Delia Smith said, let’s be having you.’
In the second row, an arm rose, tentatively; it was followed by two more, one in front, one at the back. ‘Okay, you three,’ I told them, ‘you’re clearly production assistants; you can piss off too.’ The rest of the audience were well into it now: they hooted with laughter. ‘Go on,’ I insisted, ‘I’m serious. You’re not real punters; you don’t belong there.’ Off-camera to the right, I saw a floor manager signalling to them to leave. I waited as they rose from their seats. ‘Don’t think about coming back during the commercials,’ I yelled after them. ‘Mr Cantona’s watching at the back, he’ll know who you are.’
I smiled at Marie in the front row, giving a nod of approval to her legs, which I’m sure she understood and appreciated. ‘What do you think of the show so far?’ I asked her.
‘Excellent, Oz,’ she replied; her voice had a lovely laughing lilt to it. ‘A big improvement on the usual format.’
‘Thanks, you’ve got the floor. Ask me a question if you like; a real one that the people of Singapore want to hear.’
‘I think we’d like to know what sort of a trip this is. Is it pleasure, is it business, or is it research? Are you planning to come back to make a movie here?’
‘Nice one. The honest answer is that I have no current plans to make a film here, although I’d like to, and I’d like to cast you in it.’ I looked into the live camera. ‘This is Miss Marie Lin, ladies and gentlemen, a very fine young Singaporean actress. Remember the name and the face.’ I looked back at her and saw another camera focus on her and go live. I let it linger for a while then carried on. ‘It’s a pleasure being here,’ I said, ‘but it’s business that brought me, something I have to do for a family member. I was trying to trace someone I thought might be here, but she may well be off the island by now.’ What I’d said had been entirely spontaneous, and I didn’t know how it came out, or why. Looking back, I think I was trying to put up some smoke for the bad guys on the off-chance that they had been watching Maddy and knew of our connection.
Then something else escaped from my mouth when I wasn’t looking. ‘Can I ask you a question now, Marie?’
‘Of course?’
‘Meet me for a drink in my hotel later on? About ten thirty? I’ve got a special pass to the New Asia.’
She smiled back at me. ‘Okay, but I prefer the City Space bar; it’s quieter.’
Fuck me! I’d made a date with a woman, on live television! Susie was going to kill me, twice.
I picked out another audience member: a bright-looking man in his twenties. He asked me what I thought about the possibility of a casino coming to Singapore.
‘Far be it from me,’ I replied carefully, ‘to become involved in local politics on a flying visit, but looking around at the prosperity here, I have to question whether you need it. If it’s allowed, will it stop at one? I doubt it.’ I tapped my T-shirt. ‘Much as I love Las Vegas, I reckon it belongs in the middle of a desert in the USA and nowhere else.’
That led to a lively informed discussion on the pros and cons, which went on until I saw the floor manager hold up a sign that read, ‘One minute to break.’ Mai Bong tried to cut back in, but I wasn’t having it. I’ve been stitched up by experts in my time; he was a rank amateur. The minute must have passed slowly for him, but eventually I did a wind-up, thanked the audience and shoved myself out of the silly seat. I extended my hand to Mai so that he couldn’t avoid shaking it, waved to the benches and walked off set, just as the floor manager signalled, ‘Cut to commercial break.’
As I headed for the exit and the limo, I stuck my head back into the green room. ‘Tell them you’re not going on,’ I advised Cantona, who’s put on a bit of weight since he quit playing, ‘unless they give you a proper chair. There’s no chance of you fitting into that one out there.’
24
I don’t know why the hell I did all that, but it felt good. I suppose it was my way of getting my own back for the nonsense that had been happening to me since I arrived in Singapore. Or maybe I did it to take my mind off the prospect of shelling out fifty thousand bucks to a blackmailing bitch when I could simply have waited for a couple of days in the likelihood that the bad people would take her out of Harvey’s hair, and out of everything else.
I was about to step into the stretch Honda when I heard a shout. ‘Hey, Oz.’
I turned and there was Sammy heading towards me. ‘Didn’t you fancy the Frenchman?’ I asked.
‘They didnae fancy me any more,’ he replied, with a satisfied smile. ‘The boy on the floor asked me tae leave. He said Ah’d upset Mr Mai. Ah’m barred for life, as well.’
‘You’ll be pleased with yourself, in that case. Being
barred from places is a badge of honour for you Weegies. Won’t that get you into bother at work, though?’
He laughed. ‘Oz, pal, the money Ah make for that bank, nothing short of bein’ arrested for murder is going to get me intae bother.’ He tapped the roof of the limo; the driver frowned but said nothing. ‘Any chance of a lift?’
‘Sure, where do you want to go?’
‘Back tae your hotel will do fine. I can get a taxi from there. I’m going down to Harry’s bar.’
‘In the Esplanade complex?’ I’d noticed a pub sign that morning.
‘Naw, the one on Boat Quay. There’s a few Harrys now; one at the airport, even.’ I held the limo door open for him, then followed him inside. ‘Hey,’ he exclaimed, when he saw the booze compartment, ‘is that self-service? ’
‘It is now,’ I told him, taking a 7-Up, as he chose a Grolsch.
He nudged my elbow as we pulled out into the traffic. ‘Ah see you’ve got yourself fixed up for later on,’ he murmured, or came as close to murmuring as a Glaswegian can.
‘Don’t read anything into that,’ I warned him. ‘I met her this morning down at the theatre. She works there.’
‘Ah’m saying nothing, Oz.’
‘Keep it that way.’
‘Trust me. Wish it was me, though. A right tasty lass, she looked.’ He winked at me, then forgot his promise to say nothing. ‘You’re sure of yourself, trying there. If you crack her I’ll bet you’re the first. If that’s what bein’ a movie star gets you I wish Ah was one.’
He really was a cheeky bastard. ‘Actually, Sammy,’ I said, ‘I’m going exploring first. Ever heard of a pub called the Next Page?’
‘Oh, aye. There’s two of them, down near Robertson Quay, the Front Page and then the Next Page, side by side. The Next Page used to be a couple of doors up, but it moved and got smartened up. That was a while back.’
‘How long have you been here, Sammy?’ I asked. ‘In Sing, I mean.’
‘Eight years. Ah came out when Ah was twenty-one. There was nothing for me in Glasgow, except unemployment and maybe the jail.’
‘Do you still have folks there?’
‘My mother, my sister and two nephews.’
‘Do you ever see them?’
He took a pull of his beer. ‘Ah go home every couple of years. Ah could get a job there now, or in Edinburgh, but Ah like the life out here. Ah’m a resident now.’
I found myself wondering if there was a woman in his life, but I held myself back from asking. I didn’t want to get too involved in the background of a guy I’d probably never see again.
The limo pulled up outside the Stamford. I wished him luck as we parted, and watched him head for the side door that takes you direct from the foyer into the Raffles City Mall, and on to the MRT.
Dylan was waiting for me up in the New Asia bar. We ordered a dozen mixed satays each, not knowing whether we’d have time to eat later. ‘That was a performance,’ he said, as we waited for them to arrive.
‘How do you know? You had a job to do, remember?’
‘And it’s done, don’t worry, but I still had time to catch your local TV début.’
‘What did you think?’
‘I thought you were arrogant, aggressive, and a touch conceited, but very funny. What’s it worth for me not to tell Susie about the girl?’
‘There’ll be nothing to tell, but it’ll cost you plenty if you do. Blue Star Falling will never get made.’
‘Bastard. Has she got a mate?’
‘Ask her yourself. You can come with us to the City Space if you like.’
‘We’ll see when the time comes. We’ve got somewhere else to go first.’
‘We? I’m going on my own.’
He shook his head firmly. ‘No, you’re not. This might be the safest city in the world, and you might be more than capable of handling yourself in a bundle, but you’re carrying fifty large to a meeting with a dodgy woman who’s on the run from one of the deadliest criminal organisations in the world. You can make the trade yourself, but on the way there you’re having a minder, and that’s that.’
I blinked: it had been a while since anyone other than my wife had laid down the law to me. ‘Okay,’ I said. ‘If it makes you happy you can chum me, but when we get there you wait outside.’
‘That’s not going to happen either. How well do you know this woman? Not at all: she gave you a rabbit-in-the-headlights act and you took it at face value. I know this part of the world, Oz: I spent a few dark years up in Thailand after the Amsterdam thing. Singapore might be more ordered and civilised, but it’s still Asia and all sorts of things can happen here. If you want proof of that, this friendly place executes more people per million population than any other country in the world, although they’re careful never to publish the statistics. What if you’re the target here, not her? The Triads get up to many things, and kidnap for ransom is one of them. You’re rich and you’re high-profile.’
‘That’s probably why I’m safe,’ I pointed out. ‘If these people are as secretive as it seems, they won’t want the publicity that would come from snatching me. But if you want to make sure, you can come in with me. You really did dump that thing in the river, didn’t you?’
Eventually he convinced me that he had; by then we had finished the satays, and it was time to head for my meeting with Maddy. I picked up the money from the safe; it was in a mix of twenties and fifties, too bulky for an envelope so I packed it into a small tote bag that I had bought for the purpose in the Raffles City Mall.
The Stamford doorman found us a taxi, and as usual got himself a ten-dollar tip in the process. The cab had barely pulled away before I found myself focusing on what I was about to do. I was going to buy Harvey’s peace of mind, then abandon a woman to her fate, which could well turn out to be a very grisly death.
‘Should I be doing more here, Mike?’ I said quietly. The radio was on loud, so I wasn’t worried about the driver overhearing; he was a big sullen Indian bloke who hadn’t smiled, who had been singularly unhelpful until the doorman had given him a hard word, and who was getting fuck-all tip from me at the end of the trip, which I realised very early was going to be longer than it need have been. ‘Should I be doing more to help her?’
‘Why? She’s a blackmailer.’
‘Yes, I know, but she’s a . . . she’s a woman!’
‘Let’s get specific here: she’s a white woman, and some nasty Asian gangsters want to kill her. If she was a Filipina housemaid you probably wouldn’t give a toss.’
‘Hey, that’s not true!’ I protested.
‘Maybe not entirely,’ he conceded, ‘but you wouldn’t feel as strongly; you’d probably think it was a shame but too bad, she’s caught up in something within her own culture. This Madeleine woman, she’s done something stupid . . . she’s upset people in a culture she doesn’t understand.’
‘So I let them kill her?’
‘How are you going to stop them? You being famous doesn’t count for anything in this situation.’
‘I know, but there must be something I can do.’
Dylan sighed and tapped his chest. ‘You know, mate, somewhere deep in here I’m still a police officer. Corrupt, yes, beyond redemption, yes, but I’m still a copper. The only thing you can do is the same as Maddy should have done in the first place. She should have gone to the police: someone who can identify a top Triad member would be very valuable to them. She’d be under their protection, and she’d probably be helped out by Interpol and the DEA as well, just as I was. She’d probably turn up in Greenwich Village as Mrs Benny Luker,’ he added, mournfully
Even in the circumstances, I had to laugh at that. ‘The couple from hell,’ I said. ‘I’d hate to live next door.’
‘I don’t have a next door. I live in a loft: I have an up and a down.’
‘In truth, Mike, I’d hate to live in the same city as you and her. But are you sure, dead sure, that the local police wouldn’t just arrest her for attempted extortio
n?’
‘Not if she has something to give them. Did Tony Lee take her film from her?’
‘I guess so, but I don’t know for sure.’
‘Then find out; if she still has it, or even a print, that would do, try to persuade her to go to the police with you. You’re even more famous here now: you’ve just made a charlie out of a local TV star so you’re a man of influence. If she won’t do that, give her the money and let her run as far as she can.’
‘What about the British High Commission? Maybe she’d agree to go there.’
‘They couldn’t protect her: they’d have to involve the police. Besides, they employ a local workforce. There’s a fair chance that the Triads will have a source there. No, it’s the bizzies or run.’ He paused. ‘Of course, it’ll suit you better if you don’t have to take her to them.’
‘Why’s that?’
‘It won’t ruin your chances of getting your leg over that girl from the TV show.’
‘Forget about that. I told you, she’s . . .’
‘I know, I know: she’s a nice girl and you’re a happily married man. Let me tell you something: if all the happily married men who shagged nice girls on away trips were laid end to end, they’d encircle the globe several times over.’
‘Cynical bastard.’ I laughed. ‘Is there no purity in your life?’
‘Not since the former Mrs Dylan caught me with a nice girl on an away trip, no.’
As he spoke the taxi pulled into a space just along from our destination. ‘Mohamed Sultan,’ the driver growled. It was a couple of minutes short of nine; I asked the guy to wait for a while. ‘You’re here,’ he barked. ‘Where you want go. Okay?’
Mike leaned forward and gave him some quiet advice; whatever it was, it worked. We sat there until two minutes past nine, when I decided it was time to go. I paid off the driver . . . no tip . . . and we stepped out into the humid night.
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