Her Master's Voice (26 page)

Hangchi bustled in, looking harried and more disorganised than normal. He went straight to Darti and took her hand. “Miss Surpono, welcome to Singapore. We’re very happy to see you.” Darti drew herself up and stopped looking small and lost.

He took Tim aside. “So, what are we going to do with her, Tim?”

“I don’t know. She couldn’t stay in Kalimantan. The terrorists have had one go at her and they won’t stop at that. I’m not going back either.”

“Oh, I didn’t realise, but it makes sense. I’ve been asking in Jakarta about what’s going on with her, but it’s too early to hear anything yet. Right, I’ll get her a six-month visa right now, and you can take her home.”

“But I can’t. What about Sherry?”

“Well, I can’t take her home. I’m not married and my flat…”

“But Sherry—she’ll kill me.”

“Never mind. That’s what being married is all about, as I understand it. Give me your passports and wait here. I’ll take you home.”

When he had gone, Tim called to warn Sherry he was back in Singapore early, and that she would have to accommodate a refugee.

He sat silently beside Hangchi as he drove across the island. He was thinking about his future. Krumbeins were notoriously unsentimental about their people and if they did not have a job opening for him right now, he was quite likely to be shown the door. A thought came to him. “Hangchi, could you lean on my company for me? Tell them you need me in Singapore for a while? If they can’t use me here right at the moment, they’re likely to let me go.”

His response was straightforward. “Of course. Who do you want me to call?” It was that simple. He would be safe for a while at least, but he still had Sherry to deal with.

Sherry was perfect. She was waiting at the door to welcome them and immediately made Darti feel at home. She had a bed ready in the spare room and while Darti showered, she ironed some clothes for her. By the time Tim came downstairs after his shower, they were sitting on the sofa looking a photos together. They took Darti to the local Pizza Hut as an introduction to Singapore. She enjoyed the experience.

That night Sherry was warm and loving. Perhaps she realised how close she had come to losing Tim completely. She lay beside him and planned how she would take Darti shopping tomorrow, and show her Orchard Road.

Chapter 27

Sherry had been shocked by Tim’s call from the airport and even more surprised to hear that she would have a refugee to take care of. It all sounded very serious, like something from the Second World War. Images of lost children in shapeless coats with strapped cardboard suitcases sprang to her mind, and she rushed to get the spare room ready. She was waiting at the door when Hangchi’s car pulled up.

Darti was a small woman, dark skinned and slim. She wore a loose cotton dress, navy blue with white batik printing. She looked lost as Hangchi brought her to the door, and Sherry’s heart swelled. Tim had said Darti had actually lost everything she owned. Sherry took her hand and led her upstairs.

While Darti was in the shower, Sherry at last had a chance to talk to Tim. He had been through a bad time and even though he pretended to shrug it off, Sherry could feel it had shaken him badly. On the other hand, he would no longer be rotating to Balikpapan. Krumbeins would have to transfer him somewhere else, and it would probably be a place where they could live together as a normal couple. That idea pleased her and she was excited by the prospect of a new country to live in.

She woke next morning to the sounds of Darti in the bathroom and a feeling of a new life dawning. Darti needed more clothes. When they had tipped out her bag the night before there had been only a small heap of crumpled rags. They would get them into the washing machine first and see what was worth keeping, and then… She had already planned the shops they would visit. She climbed out of bed to start the day.

Tim came downstairs last. Breakfast was waiting for him outside, al fresco in the shelter of the converted carport. All very civilised. He was still in love with the tropical climate, and hoped Krumbeins would keep him here. They would probably sort out the problem of where to use him with a transfer to Tierra del Fuego. If they transferred him anywhere, of course. He hoped Hangchi would make that call and insist on his staying in Singapore.

“Ranji was spot on. She led us straight to the right place.” They were all sitting in the Pavilion and Hangchi was telling the tale. Darti was investigating her first ever plate of sausages and mashed potatoes. “That area is full of start-up industrial units. Blocks of single workshops with roll-down doors. It was just a matter of finding the right one. Next morning everyone came to work, so we knew that most of the units were busy doing other things. When the door is open, you can look right into most of them from the street. So that left just five suspect ones in the whole complex. I pretended I wanted to rent a unit and the estate manager took me around three of them—all empty. So then we were down to two. We went back with warrants for both of them. One of them, the renter was on holiday. Someone must have called him and he turned up while we were searching. Very sad, because we’d broken his locks.

“It was the other one we wanted. Empty except for half a dozen big cases of Caterpillar parts. When we broke them open they were full of guns and worse. Kalashnikovs, ammunition, RPG-7s, Czech mortar shells and, much more dangerous, over a hundred Vietnam-era American Claymore mines. We had to evacuate the area and get the SDF to move it all.”

“I didn’t see anything on the television about it,” said Sherry.

Hangchi smiled and looked evasive. “Well, we’re a small country and we can do things like that. We don’t exactly censor the news but… It’s just a matter of calling the editors and making suggestions.

“Anyway, the place had been rented in a Chinese name with an address in Johor Baru. Alistair had it checked and it was false, of course. And, because it was a Chinese name from JB, all we can guess is that the original renter was probably not Chinese and not from JB. So we’ve got the guns, and that’s good, but we can’t find a link to an owner. Or a seller, fortunately for Ranji’s father. None of the neighbours can remember anything useful about the truck that delivered the boxes. It was just a regular truck with a forklift on a trailer behind. We know roughly when they arrived so we’re looking for the truck, but I’d bet my pension that it was a cash deal and the truck owner won’t know more than how much he was paid. Probably won’t even tell us that because he hasn’t put it through his books. So all we’ve got is whatever fingerprints we can salvage, and they’ll only confirm that some worker or other touched the arms or the boxes. You can be sure no one important went near them.

“I’m glad we got as far as we did, but I wish we could have tied something to the Irishman. I didn’t even bother picking up Wiranto. For sure, he doesn’t know anything important. I’m still hoping he’ll lead us somewhere useful.”

“So the Irishman never touched the guns but he got the money,” mused Tim. “I wonder if he’s paid the Indian connection their share.”

“Probably. He cares about his reputation that much, I’m sure. Anyway, you won’t find money being moved around Singapore. He’ll probably make a payment in Malaysia or even Sri Lanka. Even if we did find it, there’ll be some kind of legitimate excuse for it. No, I think we’ve reached the end of the road on this one.

“I called my contacts in Jakarta again, by the way. They had heard something about trouble with a foreigner in Kalimantan, but no details yet. We won’t get any help from there anyway. Even if I could get names and numbers to Jakarta, there are too many sympathisers in high places. The whole thing would just get lost.”

“Did you manage to call Krumbeins?”

“Yes, no problem there. I spoke to the Vice-President, no less. I explained that we required your continuing presence in Singapore for a while, in case I needed you for identification purposes or more information and he was completely ready to help. Did he call you?”

“No, but Personnel did. They want me to check in on Monday. Good. That’s a relief. Bread and butter for another few months at least.”

“Are they as bad as that? Don’t they take care of you?”

Tim snorted. “I wish they did. No, it’s the oil industry. Very American. Hire and fire. If they didn’t have a slot for me right now, they’d put me on leave. Once that was over, if they still had no job waiting, I’d be out. Makes you feel your efforts are really appreciated.”

“Sounds very wasteful to me. Still, I think you’re with us for a while yet. Now, what are you doing this afternoon? I think I’d like to have a long chat with Miss Surpono here. Is that possible, my dear?”

Darti looked up at Sherry and then nodded her agreement.

“Tim, how much do you know about Darti?” They were walking back to the house from the bus stop.

“Mmmh, not much. She’s a bit strange. She used to live by herself in a tiny wooden house out in the swamp. It’s unheard of for any Indonesian to live by themselves, and especially a woman. They always crowd their houses together. They can’t exist without neighbours. She made her living mixing herbs for medicine, and she tells fortunes. Apparently she’s quite good at it. My guys took me there when my stomach was bad. I don’t know what she gave me, but it stopped the problem dead in a day. Not bad, and one of the guys paid her for a fortune telling as well.”

“That explains it. I was watching my horoscope on the television and she got quite excited. She said it was all rubbish, quite wrong and I shouldn’t listen to it.”

“Pass. I don’t know anything about that, but I do know she’s a pretty clever lady that way. She was saying that when the terrorists came for her, she had packed all her things into her bag and was sitting up a tree with some proboscis monkeys. Her friends, she calls them. She watched the terrorists burn her house, and she watched when they got shot up by the police as well. She said that was a complete screw-up. The terrorists were just getting back to their boat, apparently, when the police appeared. Our Captain Rais was in charge and he fell or jumped out of the boat on the first shot. The policemen all dived into the bottom of their boat and no one was steering or watching where they were going.”

“And Darti was watching?”

“Yes. I wonder if that was why she went up a tree and hadn’t just run away into the swamp. Anyway, the police boat ran into the other one, everyone jumped up and started shooting. Darti says she’d given the terrorists bad luck, so most of them were killed but all the police survived. Even Rais, who was hiding in the bushes on the other side of the river.”

“Did you ask her how she knew the terrorists were coming?”

“She just smiled and said her friends had told her. I don’t know if she meant the monkeys or something else. Anyway, she was ready for them. Her bag was packed, right enough. Did she have much in it?”

“Nothing really. A few tee-shirts and sarongs, all old and faded. A cheap pair of sandals. Comb. A small mirror with a plastic frame. It was pathetic really.” They had arrived at their house and Tim held the gate open.

“Exactly how friendly were you with her, Tim?” Sherry asked as she unlocked the door. “She had a pair of silver ear rings in a box from a Singapore jeweller. Did you give them to her?”

“Two small moons? Yes, they were from me. I used to make love to her now and then.”

Sherry stood with the door half open. She could not believe what she had just heard. “What…?”

“That’s right,” Tim sounded unrepentant and answered her as if everything was normal, “I used to visit her sometimes for a chat and a bit of fun. It was good. She’s quite clever that way.”

Sherry looked at him. There was nothing she could say. “You bastard!” she cried and ran up stairs.

Tim found her in the bedroom. She had taken his hold-all and was emptying her drawers into it. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“I’m leaving! What do you think? I’d stay here with your girl-friend?” She found herself grabbed from behind, turned and thrown face down on the bed.

“Don’t be stupid. You’re staying.” He was holding her down with one hand pressing on the back of her neck. He was calm and very strong.

Sherry started to cry. “You don’t love me,” she sobbed. “You just want to use me.” She tried to struggle but it was impossible and she quickly gave up.

“Now that,” said Tim, “could make me very cross. Do you think you can threaten me by behaving like a hysterical woman?”

She felt his hand at her skirt. He was lifting it up over her back. She was sickened as she felt him pull the back of her panties down. “That’s right,” she said bitterly. “Go ahead and fuck me. That’s all you want, isn’t it?”

“Oh dear,” said Tim sadly, “you really are trying to make things worse, aren’t you?”

She felt him sit beside her, his weight depressing the mattress and bringing her closer to him. A sharp overwhelming pain shot through her and she shrieked in surprise. He had hit her! He had slapped her bottom hard, with the full force of his hand. He did it again and again. She was crying now, loudly and open mouthed, as she had not done since childhood. The pain in her bottom was shocking, and the humiliation made it worse.

Tim stopped and her cries subsided to sobs. “There,” he said, “Half a dozen. Now, tell me you understand why that happened.”

She kept sobbing into the bedspread but Tim would not let her rest. “Tell me,” he demanded, “or you’ll have the rest of the dozen. Is that what you want?”

Frantically, she forced herself to think. What had she done? “Because I tried to run away?” she asked through her tears.

She heard as well as felt the slap. It hurt. Her bottom was already sore and the new pain seared through her. “No!” said Tim firmly. “I’ve already told you that you are free to go whenever you want. Try again!”

“Oh, please, no more. I’m trying…” She frantically scrambled through what had just happened. What had she said to him? What had he said? “Because—because I said you didn’t love me?”