Sammy was impressed. ‘Ooyah!’ He whistled. ‘Ma man Oz.’
So was Dylan: he glanced at me as if to make quite certain I wasn’t kidding. I gave him a quick nod.
‘What’s it like, getting shot?’ our gallus friend asked.
‘It’s not something you want to try,’ Mike murmured.
Sammy looked at him, at the supporting cast. ‘Are you tellin’ me you’ve been shot an all, Benny? That’ll be right.’
‘I’m telling you it’s much better to be the one doing the shooting.’
‘What, are you a hitman, like? Aye, you really are kidding me now, eh?’
‘He’s a writer,’ I said, to steer him away from the topic. ‘He’s always doing research into stuff like that. That’s what we’re doing here, planning a new movie. Isn’t that right, Benny?’
Dylan nodded dutifully.
‘Hey, that’s great,’ said Sammy.
‘So, what’s your story?’ I asked him. ‘What brings you here? Holiday? A stag trip with your mates?’ I nodded towards the guys he seemed to have been with, who had decided to ignore him, and us.
He shook his tousled head. ‘No, I work here,’ he said, ‘for the DRZ Bank, over in Change Alley. I’m a dealer; I specialise in Japanese stocks.’ All of a sudden he looked a lot more sober, and a little embarrassed. It occurred to me that the spectre of Nick Leeson might be taking some time to blow away.
‘I’ve got some of them,’ I said, to put him at his ease. ‘My wife and I have an offshore investment portfolio; it’s spread around the world, but quite a chunk’s in Far East markets. We’re thinking about backing off a bit, though: it’s just a wee bit unstable politically for our liking.’
‘That might not be a daft move,’ Sammy suggested. I made a mental note to talk it through with Susie and our broker when I got back.
‘So what’s to do in Singapore?’ I asked. ‘We’ve only just got here.’
‘Ah could tell by the eyes. Guys that have just got here all look a wee bit like it’s still yesterday. First time here?’ We both nodded. ‘Well, you’re pretty much doin’ what there is tae do in Sing, partyin’. No’ that this bar here is the end-all. It depends what you’re lookin’ for. If it’s women, no problem here: there’s a hell of a lot of them pass through this place.’
‘That’s not on my agenda, thanks. How big is the city in population terms?’
‘Four million plus, they reckon, and growin’. The island’s probably smaller than Glasgow, but it’ll soon have more people than Scotland. That doesnae count the tourists either. Ah reckon there’s more of them, especially Aussies, since the Bali bomb and the tsunami. If the casino happens, Christ knows how many there’ll be.’
‘Casino?’
‘Aye, the Yanks want to build one, if they can persuade the government to let them.’
‘And will they?’
‘Hard to say. There’s resistance, but they’re talking about three billion US. It’s hard to turn that doon, even here, in the richest place in South East Asia.’
‘What’s the cultural side like? I’m an actor, remember, so how’s the theatre side of things?’
‘Loads of it. There’s big visitin’ shows, like The Sound of Music, and there’s local outfits that are producing here all the time, mostly in English but sometimes in Chinese. This place is Chinese, Ah mean the whole culture is Chinese, don’t make any mistake about it; that’s why it’s no’ in Malaysia.’
Sammy seemed to be an interesting guy, now that we’d got over the initial nonsense, and not nearly as pissed as I’d thought at first. I’ve observed that sometimes the Jock abroad feels he has to act out the stereotype.
‘Ever heard of an outfit called the Heritage Theatre Company?’ I asked him.
‘Heritage? Heritage? Heritage?’ He scratched his head hard, as if he was shaking up its contents. ‘The name’s familiar. I’ve seen it on posters advertising things on the Esplanade, I’m sure.’
‘The Esplanade?’
‘Big new complex down on Marina Bay, across frae where Ah work. They have all sorts of venues there.’
‘Mmm, I must check it out.’ I waved at a waitress. ‘Eric’ (or maybe it really was him: the voice said it might be) was taking a break and glasses were being refilled all over the place. ‘Two more pints of Tiger, please. Sammy, want another Heineken?’
He beamed. ‘Aye, thanks, Oz.’ You’d have thought I’d offered him another Rolex.
I gave the girl fifty dollars. She came back two minutes later with three beers and not a lot of change, then she asked for my autograph. Great, I thought, as I signed. Word will get around: not what I wanted.
‘Are there many of us here, Sammy?’ I asked.
‘Us?’
‘British people.’
‘Not just Jocks, you mean? Aye, lots. Most of that crowd at the bar for a start. Half the guys Ah work wi’ are Brits, and there’s others in advertising and construction. The truth is they need us to make this place tick. It’s a good deal for us: the money’s good and the tax is a lot less than in Britain. Then there’s the weather.’
The humidity had kicked in with nightfall, even on the riverfront. ‘Does it ever change?’
‘Oh, aye,’ said Sammy. ‘Sometimes we get monsoons.’
19
We chucked it after another couple of beers; Sammy insisted on getting another round in so he could tell his pals at the office that he’d bought Oz Blackstone and his mate a Tiger.
Before we gave in to the need for sleep and went off to kidnap a taxi, we arranged to meet Sammy next day, for a walking tour of the city centre. He suggested the Long Bar in Raffles, but I reckoned it would be a lot harder to get out of there than to get in, so I told him instead to meet us in the foyer of the Stamford. That prompted him to suggest that, there and then, we should all go to the New Asia disco on the seventieth floor, but I got out of that one by telling him that it sounded like no place for a thirty-eight-year-old father of three to be found.
(We didn’t tell Sammy afterwards, but we did sneak a look when we got back to the hotel. I left quickly, though: all we could see were long legs in black dresses, and I realised straight away that I could have got into serious trouble there. Normally that wouldn’t have stopped Dylan, but by then he was too dazed and confused to remember which name he was using, so he bailed out too.)
The melatonin did its stuff: I popped another couple and was asleep by one and awake by eight. The hotel gym opened early, so I went down there again and did a quick aerobic circuit topped off by some sets of serious weights, then swam a few widths of the circular pool, which was deserted, save for a couple of British Airways flight attendants in bikinis. I had just come out of the water and was towelling myself down when one of them came over and asked me to sign her trip schedule. I might as well have issued a press release, I thought.
It got worse. I was barely back in my room before the phone rang: a programme assistant from a local television station was put straight through by the hotel operator to ask me if I’d do a drop-in on a chat show at seven that evening. I lied again (I was becoming uncomfortably good at that) and told her I couldn’t be certain that I’d be in Singapore by then. She sounded so crestfallen that I gave in and agreed to do it. I figured that if it was general knowledge that I was on the island there was no point in trying to hide.
When I hung up, I noticed that a red light was flashing on the phone, signifying a message. I called it up, and heard Primavera; she’d phoned the night before when Dylan and I were out on the town.
‘Oz,’ she began, ‘I hope to God they’ve put me through to the right room. I’m at Dad’s and I’ve spoken to my sister and brother-in-law about the surprising development with Mr Luker. As you can imagine it came as a hell of a shock to them both, but I’ve managed to persuade him that Benny wasn’t personally involved in the difficulty they had and that the other man was almost completely responsible. They’re okay to go on with the project, on the basis that they don’t have to see Mr Luker at any time. Give me a call to confirm that you’ve received this, and get in touch with them whenever you can.’