So all this had been about nothing. He felt a sharp wave of relief. He had known all along that Jennifer would never—
“Her boyfriend might have come home and caught her.”
Michael thought he must have misunderstood. “Her boyfriend?”
“Yeah. The guy Miss Parker was livin’ with there.”
The words hit Michael in the stomach like a sledgehammer. He lost control of himself. He grabbed Walter Kawolski by the lapels and jerked him to his feet. “You stupid cocksucker! I asked you if—what was his name?”
The little man was terrified. “I don’t know, Mr. Moretti. I swear to God, I don’t know!”
Michael shoved him away. He picked up the newspaper and pushed it under Walter Kawolski’s nose.
Kawolski looked at Adam Warner’s photograph and said excitedly, “That’s him! That’s her boyfriend.”
And Michael felt the world crashing down around him. Jennifer had lied to him all this time; she had betrayed him with Adam Warner! The two of them had been sneaking behind his back, conspiring against him, making a fool of him. She had put horns on him.
The ancient juices of vengeance stirred strongly within Michael Moretti, and he knew he was going to kill them both.
54
Jennifer flew from New York to London to Singapore, with a two-hour stopover in Bahrain. The almost-new airport at the oil emirate was already a slum, filled with men, women and children in native garb, sleeping on the floors and on benches. In front of the airport liquor store was a printed warning that anyone drinking in a public place was subject to imprisonment. The atmosphere was hostile, and Jennifer was glad when her flight was called.
The 747 jet landed at Changi Airport in Singapore at four-forty in the afternoon. It was a brand new airport, fourteen miles from the center of the city, replacing the old International Airport, and as the plane taxied down the runway Jennifer could see signs of construction still going on.
The Customs building was large and airy and modern, with rows of luggage carts for the convenience of passengers. The Customs officers were efficient and polite, and in fifteen minutes Jennifer was finished and headed for the taxi stand.
Outside the entrance, a heavy middle-aged Chinese man approached her. “Miss Jennifer Parker?”
“Yes.”
“I am Chou Ling.” Moretti’s contact in Singapore. “I have a limousine waiting.”
Chou Ling supervised the storing of Jennifer’s luggage in the trunk of the limousine, and a few minutes later they were headed toward the city.
“Did you have a pleasant flight?” Chou Ling asked.
“Yes, thank you.” But Jennifer’s mind was on Stefan Bjork.
As though reading her thoughts, Chou Ling nodded to a building ahead of them. “That is Changi Prison. Bjork is in there.”
Jennifer turned to look. Changi Prison was a large building off the highway, surrounded by a green fence and electrified barbed wire. There were watchtowers at each corner, manned by armed guards, and the entrance was blocked by a second barbed wire fence and, beyond that, more guards at the gate.
“During the war,” Chou Ling informed Jennifer, “all British personnel on the island were interned there.”
“When will I be able to get to see Bjork?”
Chou Ling replied delicately, “It is a very sensitive situation, Miss Parker. The government is most adamant about drug use. Even first offenders are dealt with ruthlessly. People who deal in drugs…” Chou Ling shrugged expressively. “Singapore is controlled by a few powerful families. The Shaw family, C. K. Tang, Tan Chin Tuan and Lee Kuan Yew, the Prime Minister. These families control the finance and commerce of Singapore. They do not wish drugs here.”
“We must have some friends here with influence.”
“There is a police inspector, David Touh—a most reasonable man.”
Jennifer wondered how much “reasonable” cost, but she did not ask. There would be time enough for that later. She sat back and studied the scenery. They were passing through the suburbs of Singapore now, and the overwhelming impression was of greenery and flowers blooming everywhere. On both sides of MacPherson Road were modern shopping complexes alongside ancient shrines and pagodas. Some of the people walking along the streets wore ancient costumes and turbans, while others were smartly dressed in the latest western styles. The city seemed a colorful mixture of an ancient culture and a modern metropolis. The shopping centers looked new and everything was spotlessly clean. Jennifer commented on that.