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  He stamped his feet like he was standing to attention, his body ramrod straight. But he didn’t salute and his arms weren’t by his side.

  He took the stick in his left hand and leaned on the table, glaring at me.

  “Who the hell do you think you are?” he barked.

  I smiled. “Sergeant Major, how nice to see you again.”

  “Someone has been poking around asking personal questions about me.”

  I sensed Robshaw wince but he said nothing.

  “Do you have something to hide, Sergeant Major?”

  He glared. “I do not. But I do not appreciate disrespect even from a superior. And by the way, I know you have retired—under suspicious circumstances.”

  I didn’t bother rising to the bait. He had clearly been finding out about me but I didn’t care.

  He leaned closer to me and I could smell coffee on his breath. “You have a brass-necked cheek, Carter. Prove what you think you can or back off!”

  I inclined my head. “Are you done, Sinclair?”

  He snapped up straight, tucked his stick under his arm again, spun and walked out.

  “Bugger me!” Hegarty said as the door slammed. “I thought he was going to hit you with his stick. I need a stiff drink.”

  “My legs were shaking,” Robshaw said.

  “He’s just a sergeant major with a controlled temper.” I waved to the waiter and asked him for three small beers. When the others shook their heads as if to say they were on duty I told them to remove their brassards and relax. For the next ten minutes they were off duty.

  “So,” Robshaw said, after a slug of his drink, “you were going to tell me what you are thinking.”

  “I’m thinking this morning was a success.”

  “But we didn’t find anything in the ledger.”

  “I didn’t expect it to. I just wanted to stir things up and see what happened. I’d say we certainly got an interesting result.”

  EIGHTEEN

  Undeterred, Hegarty chuckled as he drove us back. Finally he said, “Brass-necked cheek.”

  “Are you’re going to tell me where it comes from?”

  “An English highwayman—don’t ask me his name or the year but I’d guess late seventeen hundreds.”

  “OK.”

  “They used to hang them. No judge or jury as such. If you were caught holding up a carriage, the army had the automatic right to string you up. Anyway there was also a rule that if you survived three hanging attempts, you were free.”

  I laughed. “That’s a quirky interpretation of justice.”

  “So there was this highway man who was caught and hanged three times and survived. In those days you died by suffocation, by constriction of the windpipe rather than by breaking the neck. Anyway our guy survived through a trick. He swallowed a brass tube so that his throat couldn’t be crushed.”

  I laughed again. “Seriously? How do you know these things?”

  “It’s my hobby. You like boxing and I like the origin of expressions… and billiards.”

  “That’s good to know—about the billiards that is. Now I know not to play you for money.” We turned off the road and up the hill towards Gillman. I said, “Hedge—see if you can find me a brass tube. I suspect I might need it if I’m wrong about this thing at Tanglin.”

  Vernon had me in his office. “I hear you’ve been playing at your old role,” he said between clenched teeth. “Seems we’ve been here before, eh? So, what have you got to say for yourself?”

  “I achieved my objective.”

  “What, on this cock-and-bull hunt for guns? There are no guns. There is no security issue.” He paused, looking at me through small black eyes.

  “Carter?”

  “Yes?”

  “I’m tolerating you here, you know that, right?”

  I met his stare and said nothing.

  “This whole security thing is a political game by the Governor.”

  “I’m working for Secretary Coates. I’m sure his role responsible for internal security is genuine.”

  “Whoever. Whatever. Where did this intelligence come from about guns?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Then maybe you should find out.”

  “Anything else I should do?”

  Vernon’s jaw muscles worked as he clenched his teeth. “Well, Carter, since you are the great investigator I think you should prove yourself. If you want to stay here—and satisfy the control that Coates has over you—then I want you to do a proper job.”

  I’d predicted this. When I read the report on Madam Butterfly and Vernon’s desire to resolve it, I guessed he’d enlist me.

  I said, “Madam Butterfly.”

  He failed to hide his surprise before saying, “Yes. That damn woman is an embarrassment.”

  “It’s not just a woman.”

  “What?”

  “Well based on last night’s incident report I’d say there’s at least one other person involved, maybe the trishaw driver, maybe someone waiting in the alley.”

  Vernon processed this for a moment then said, “Dismissed, Carter. Catch Madam Butterfly or any trouble with Secretary Coates will be the least of your problems.”

  NINETEEN

  Eager to speak to the Inspector, I rang the police station again but only got another clerk. As before, I was told they would pass on my message. With nothing more pressing to do, I spent the afternoon reading through Madam Butterfly reports.

  The first reported occurrence had been in June last year. It took four incidents over a period of seven weeks to realize they were linked. She wasn’t called Madam Butterfly until the tenth incident, when the unfortunate Tommy had groped her and seen the tattoo at the top of her leg. He’d received a cracked skull for his trouble, the worst of the sixteen reported injuries. Most men said they either suspected being slipped a Mickey Finn in their drink or had received a blow to the side of the head.

  I looked at the dates and saw no obvious pattern although they were all timed with the arrival of a troopship and shore leave.

  Was it one girl or many? The tattoo had been mentioned eight times, three of which were reportedly in about the same place. Two early reports mentioned a butterfly tattoo but no one had thought to ask where it had been seen. Apart from that it was difficult to know from the descriptions whether it was a single woman. They all claimed she was stunning with long blue-black hair and golden skin. She was tall although estimates ranged between five-nine and six foot. All bar four claimed she was Chinese. Three others said Eurasian and one said Filipino although he seemed very unsure due to his previous drunken state. All agreed that she was in her twenties but that still gave a ten year spread. In every case the men reported she wore an attractive dress. Some described it as Chinese with a sexy long slit up the side. Others knew this was called a cheongsam.

  “What do you think?” Hegarty asked me.

  “There’s not much to go on.”

  “I know. There must be hundreds of girls who could match those descriptions. The problem we have is all the guys were so drunk they can’t remember much.”

  “Including which bar they were picked up from. If we knew that—”

  The desk clerk poked his head round the door. “Telephone, sir,” he said looking at me. “Hill Street police station.”

  I hurried to the phone and picked up the receiver. “Inspector?”

  “It is Sergeant Kee. You wanted to know what I found,” he said in his strong Chinese accent. “I looked at your friend’s car and you could be right.”

  “The mark I saw was new?”

  “I cannot say for certain that it occurred during the crash. But yes, it is more recent than the rest of the marks on the Toyota.”

  “Colour?”

  “White.”

  “White?” I was disappointed. The majority of the vehicles were either white or black—or military green of course.

  “Or maybe a very light grey or blue.”

  I thanked him and asked abo
ut the inspector.

  “I have not seen him today. Let me find out.”

  There was silence on the line and then he was back again. “Yes, Inspector Rahman has been out at an incident. I am sure he will be back soon.”

  I killed another hour chewing the fat with Hegarty. In his opinion, treating Madam Butterfly as a priority was nonsense.

  “We should make sure anyone coming ashore is warned,” he said angrily, his Welsh accent more pronounced.

  “And why aren’t they?”

  “It’s like an admission of failure. Vernon won’t have it.”

  “You don’t like the major much do you, Hedge?”

  He raised his bushy eyebrow with an ironic smile. “Is it that obvious?”

  “Yes.”

  “When the major’s in a bad mood everyone knows it. His shouts can be heard from one end of the base to the other. He also expects men to perform drills in full uniform in the heat of the day.”

  “He certainly likes his rules, but that’s not such a bad thing for a CO.”

  “However illogical or pointless? If he’s in a particularly bad mood he’ll insist on FSMO,” Hegarty said with a shake of the head. Full Service Marching Order meant men had to carry their heavy kitbags and equipment as though they were off to war.

  Robshaw joined us. “What are you talking about?”

  “A certain bastard,” Hegarty said with feeling. I wondered then whether he had been on the receiving end of FSMO.

  Robshaw sighed resignedly. “Have you mentioned the fencing club?”

  Hegarty shook his head.

  “Everyone has to pay a subscription to a fencing club that’s supposed to be established. Vernon gets you as soon as you arrive. It’s like part of the initiation. You don’t know any better and basically feel pressured to sign up.”

  Hegarty said, “He claims it’s really a savings scheme and we’ll get any unused money when we leave here.”

  I shook my head, not liking the sound of this fencing club-cum-savings scheme.

  “He’s also very odd,” the lieutenant said breaking into my thoughts. “Most of the officers take their breaks in Penang, but Vernon goes to Johore Bahru.”

  I’d seen that name on a map. “In Malaya?”

  “Just the other side of the causeway.” He shook his head. “Odd place, odd chap.”

  I checked my watch. There were no windows in our little room and I realized it was now dark outside.

  Where was Rahman? Why hadn’t he called back yet?

  “Come on Hedge,” I said standing and stretching.

  He grinned and jokingly said, “You’re going back to see Vernon and tell him where to stuff his fencing club?”

  “Maybe later. No, we’re going to the police station. I’ve had enough waiting around. I want to get us back to that House of Tokyo.”

  TWENTY

  Cigarette smoke was still thick in the air at the police station but the heat had eased. A couple of people waited on benches in sullen silence.

  A tired and hassled desk sergeant straightened up when he saw me.

  “Inspector Rahman please,” I said.

  The man scurried off and returned a minute later.

  “Someone is looking for him,” he said and asked me to wait.

  I sat on a bench and studied the two men opposite me. One looked Indian and the other of Malay descent. Their body language said that they were avoiding one another, sitting at either end of the bench, about eight feet apart and turned away.

  A police officer appeared and I looked up expectantly but he asked for the two men to come forward. He said they would get a room to talk and led them away. Before they disappeared I heard them start to argue. Something about stealing trade.

  Now I was alone and the station fell quiet. I stood up.

  “What’s taking so long?”

  The desk sergeant jerked up from his register and looked apologetic.

  “One minute. Please. One minute.” He scurried off again.

  Hegarty came in. “Everything all right, Boss?”

  “Sick of waiting,” I grumbled.

  The desk sergeant bustled back. “So sorry,” he said and bowed servilely. “Inspector Rahman is not here.”

  “Good grief! Where the hell is he then?”

  The police officer moistened his lips. “So sorry. He is at an investigation.”

  “Where?”

  “Nee Soon. The inspector is at a village called…”

  He didn’t need to say anymore. Hegarty and I were already running back to the jeep.

  Since Nee Soon was a small place I figured the inspector would be at House of Tokyo. But I didn’t get it. How did he know? Had I discussed it with someone? Hegarty denied telling anyone, even Vernon. He claimed to have only reported that we’d gone with Mei Fen to the crash site. Perhaps Mei Fen had told the police. Whatever, I was annoyed that Rahman hadn’t contacted me first. He was the liaison officer for the police and supposed to be working with me. So far all I had done was work with the MPs and investigate my friend’s alleged accident.

  Hegarty drove us again; an exact repeat of the night before except that we didn’t stop at the crash site.

  We arrived in the village to find two police cars parked directly outside the House of Tokyo. Two constables stood by the front door, turning people away and making sure no one lingered too long outside.

  Hegarty bumped up onto the kerb and we got out. Together we marched up to the officers, flashed our IDs and kept going. One of the men said something but I ignored him, opened the heavy front door and then the second one.

  As soon as I was in the room, I spotted the inspector at the back with the stony-faced Japanese lady in the red kimono. He glanced my way and I couldn’t read the expression on his face. Concern or surprise maybe, but then gave me a friendly wave.

  He left the woman and met me in the middle of the room.

  I said, “I’ve been trying to get hold of you all day.”

  My gruffness made him frown. “I’m sorry, Ash. I didn’t know. I’ve been busy all day and then this.”

  “But you are here without me!” I snapped.

  He shook his head. “I am sorry.”

  I wondered then whether I had got it wrong. I was making an assumption. “So you aren’t here because of last night, because I wanted you to come here?”

  Now he looked more confused. “What are you saying? That you knew about this last night? But it happened today.”

  “What happened today?”

  “The attack on the girl.”

  I pointed to a sofa. “Let’s both start at the beginning,” I said.

  Once seated, I told him about our trip the previous evening because Mei Fen mentioned House of Tokyo.

  He interrupted, “Who is Mei Fen?”

  “My friend’s girl. She says they were engaged.”

  “But you don’t know. I mean it sounds like it was news to you—your friend never mentioned her?”

  “No, but—”

  He raised a hand. “All I’m saying is that may not have been true. You met a girl who wanted you to come here.”

  Hegarty was listening and I noticed his eyebrows rise.

  “Now you,” I said. “Please explain what you are doing here if it wasn’t to help me gain access?”

  “Seriously,” Rahman said, “I didn’t know about your trip here. We are responding to an incident. A young girl was possibly attacked today. We think this afternoon but I’m struggling to get any details and she can’t tell us because she is unconscious.”

  “And that’s it?” I said amazed. “Not connected to me investigating Tom Silverman’s death?”

  Rahman touched my arm. “I am sorry about your friend, but no, this is not about that. If I had known then I would have come here with you today.”

  For the first time I took a good look around. The room was a comfortable lounge bar of sorts. There was a pleasant atmosphere with the perfume of flowers, possibly lotuses. Music played quietly and the
lighting was subtle. Although there were blues and pinks, the predominant colours were black and white. Large black willow paintings adorned the walls. Initially, I thought they were trees but then I realized that they were cunningly suggestive of the female form.

  Overall the room had an obvious Japanese theme and feel which made sense. The only things that didn’t seem to fit were two golden Chinese lions guarding the entrance.

  “What is this place?” I asked the inspector.

  “What I prefer to call a bordello.”

  That was my assumption yesterday although Mei Fen had disagreed. I’d been in many brothels as an MP and it seemed to fit even though this was by far the most tasteful I’d ever seen.

  “So what do you know?” I asked.

  “At three minutes past four this afternoon we received a phone call from Tan Tock Seng—a public Chinese hospital—to say that they had a patient that had been brought in and were suspicious of foul play. An officer was despatched and decided we should investigate. Her name was given only as Tai Tai. Her residence was noted as Dongzing de fangzi here in Nee Soon and so here we are.”

  “And you have been here, waiting how long?”

  Rahman waggled his head. “Over an hour, but at first, the big woman wasn’t here. One of the staff showed us where Tai Tai had been found near to the foot of a fire-escape at the back. There’s a large courtyard out there behind the kitchens. It has rubbish and waste, storage and a toilet.”

  Rahman stopped.

  I said, “There’s a track behind the building that leads to a road off the main street. There’s also an alleyway between this building and the next.”

  The inspector looked surprised.

  “As I said, I was here last night. We tried to gain entry so I could ask why my friend might have come here but the madam—” I nodded towards the lady in the red kimono “—refused to open the door.”

  “She’s difficult, that’s for certain,” Rahman said. “She seems to have stopped people talking to us.”