The Ambassador's wife

horrors for Tay, savaging his already fragile sense that he might know anything at all about women.

They talked on for a few more minutes after that, but it was obvious to Tay that Lucinda really didn’t know any more than she had already told him. He was so distracted now anyway that he jumped at the first opportunity he could find to end the conversation and take his leave.

Tay would have to do something to get to the bottom of the story Lucinda had told him, but he couldn’t imagine what he might find when he did. For the moment, all he knew was that Elizabeth Munson’s female lover was a rumor among the ladies who lunch, nothing more than that. Still, something must have started the rumor and, since it had apparently continued to circulate right up to the day that Elizabeth Munson died, perhaps it was really true.

Even if it were true, it probably had nothing at all to do with her murder; but then maybe it did have something to do with it. Maybe, if he looked closely enough, he would even find the seeds of a motive somewhere in what Lucinda had just told him.

Tay sighed heavily. He didn’t even want to think about where that might take him.

IN the taxi on the way back to his office, Tay shook a Marlboro out of the box. Before he could put it in his mouth, the driver began to chant “no, no, no, no,” stabbing his forefinger over and over at a No Smoking sign taped to the dashboard.

He hadn’t even intended to light the damned thing and just figured the feel of it might help him to think more clearly, but he returned it to the box without arguing.

Welcome to Singapore, Tay thought, the country where every man is his own policeman.

He briefly considered asking the taxi driver if, in furtherance of his duty to maintain public order, he might also like to take over the Elizabeth Munson case, but then he thought better of it and said nothing at all.

When Tay got back to his office the autopsy report was waiting on his desk. He read it carefully, but it contained nothing new or unexpected. His conversation with Dr. Hoi had covered everything quite thoroughly.

Tay shuffled the other papers on his desk for a while without any great interest, thinking mostly about what Lucinda had told him. When he suddenly remembered he had more or less promised the OC he would send DeSouza a copy of their case file, it occurred to him he should do it now while there was almost nothing in it. Tay certainly wasn’t going to add anything about his little chat with Lucinda. Perhaps he would leave out the autopsy report as well, at least for now.

Sergeant Kang was out of the office examining the Marriott’s surveillance tapes, so Tay called the secretarial pool and asked one of the girls to take the file, make a copy, and courier it over to DeSouza at the American embassy. Tay briefly considered telephoning Kang and asking if he had found anything on the hotel’s tapes yet, but he decided that was silly. If Kang had found anything, Tay would already know about it.

Around five-thirty, Tay decided he’d had enough. If he left now, he could walk to Harry’s Bar to meet Susan Hoi rather than having to find a taxi. As a rule people in Singapore didn’t walk anywhere, but Tay walked whenever he got the chance.

Tay understood why most people thought he was crazy to walk anywhere in Singapore. It was hot out there, and sweaty. When he walked places rather than taking a taxi, he generally arrived at his destination with his shirt plastered to his back. Still, he thought it was worth it. He would have preferred walking in a cooler place, of course, but then he would not have the warm nights he loved so much, nights when the air itself seemed alive with possibilities. Maybe there was a city somewhere on earth that had cool days and warm nights. If he could find one, he would pack up and move there without a moment’s hesitation.

Boat Quay was a crescent-shaped strip of shophouses nestled in a bend of the Singapore River near the bottom of South Bridge Road. At night, workers fleeing the financial district overflowed its stylish restaurants and noisy pubs, but Tay had never been there before in daylight. He had the impression that during the day the area was frequented primarily by Australian tourists: heavy of leg, loud of voice, and clothed in their habitual uniforms of wrinkled T-shirts, baggy shorts, and flip-flops. Perhaps that wasn’t true, but just the threat of it had so far been more than enough to keep him well clear of Boat Quay whenever the sun was out.

Harry’s Bar was one of the oldest and best known of the pubs in the quay and it had a prime slot right at the beginning of the crescent. When Tay got there, the ground floor was already about half full of briefcase-carrying trendies. He checked the tables outside along the riverbank and then had a quick look upstairs. When he didn’t see Dr. Hoi in either place, he took a stool at the bar close by the front door and ordered a Campari and soda.

Lounging at a bar was an unexpectedly congenial feeling and it made him start to wonder if he really ought to think about getting out more. Had he even been a little unfair to Harry’s perhaps? Tay sipped at his Campari and glanced around, but before he could decide whether or not that was the case, Susan Hoi slipped onto the stool next to him and gave his elbow a little squeeze.

“Sorry I’m late.”

“Just got here myself,” Tay said and raised his arm to attract the bartender’s attention. “What will you have?”

“I’ll have whatever you’re having,” Dr. Hoi said.

Tay wondered if she even knew what he was having, but he didn’t ask. Catching the bartender’s eye, Tay pointed first to his drink and then to the empty space in front of Dr. Hoi, wiggling his finger back and forth a couple of times. It was a bizarre gesture when he thought about it, but it apparently made perfect sense to the bartender since the man immediately reached for a bottle of Campari and began mixing another drink for Dr. Hoi.

They sipped their drinks and talked for a while, altogether pleasantly Tay thought. It was the sort of small talk that two people of opposite sexes made when they didn’t know each other particularly well, but it was nevertheless entirely agreeable. Still, as Dr. Hoi talked about her work and asked Tay questions about his, he grew more and more curious. What was it she wanted to tell him about the Elizabeth Munson case that was so important she had to tell him in person, and why was she stalling now that they were here? He eventually grew tired of waiting to find out.

“You said on the telephone that you had some ideas about the dead woman at the Marriott,” Tay said.

“Yes,” Dr. Hoi conceded, “I did.”

She didn’t say anything else right away and Tay thought she looked as if she had gone utterly blank.

“So what are these ideas?” Tay prodded her.

“None. I don’t have any ideas about the woman at the Marriott. None at all. Not a clue.”

“But-”

“I lied. I thought it would be pleasant to get to know you and that was the first excuse that jumped into my head. So I lied.”

Tay cleared his throat and looked off toward the other end of the bar where the bartender was drawing a draft of Tiger beer.

“Well,” Tay said, “I’m not sure what to say to that.”

“Are you angry?”

“No, certainly not angry. Surprised, I guess. You could have just asked me to meet you for a drink, couldn’t you?”

“I suppose so, but you would have said you were busy, wouldn’t you?”

She had him there, Tay knew, so he didn’t say anything.

“Yes, I thought so,” she went on. “You strike me as the kind of man who automatically deals with every unexpected invitation by saying he’s busy and then wonders later if he should have gone.”

What was that supposed to mean? Tay asked himself.

“I’m right, aren’t I?” she persisted.

“I don’t know,” Tay said. “Maybe.”

“Then I did the right thing,” Dr. Hoi said. “You’ve got to speak up for yourself if you see something you want, not just sit around and hope that it eventually comes to you.”

Tay was so flustered he didn’t have the first idea what to say. This was certainly his day to be set back on his heels by women, wasn’t it? Maybe Lucinda Lim and Susan Hoi were both crazy people. Perhaps that was all there was to it.

No, that wasn’t fair. They both probably thought he was the crazy one. After all, they were both perfectly nice women, young and attractive, the kind of women most men would turn cartwheels in the street to attract. And here they both were making plain their interest in Tay while he had stared back at them with about as much