“I can’t promise you anything until I hear what you’re going to tell me.”
Keshar obviously didn’t care very much for Tay’s answer and it showed on his face, but he knew he had already said far too much to turn back now.
“About a year ago the man I report to at Marriott’s head office in the United States came to see me. He told me that I might get a call from someone at the American embassy here in Singapore and, if I did, I was to cooperate with the caller in any way he asked. I asked what that meant and was told I was to arrange off-the- books accommodations and confidential access to the hotel if I was requested by the embassy to do so.”
“And this was for anybody at the American embassy?”
“Oh no. Just for this one person.”
“Who was it?”
“Well…” Keshar hesitated. “I’m not sure I know.”
That answer didn’t make any sense to Tay and his puzzlement was no doubt evident to Keshar.
“What I mean to say, Inspector, is that I was given a man’s name, but I don’t think it’s a real person. I think it was just a name.”
“And what was this name?”
“Washington. Mr. Washington.”
“Does Mr. Washington have a first name?”
“Not that I was told.”
Tay mulled that over while Keshar watched him.
“Have you ever heard from Mr. Washington?” Tay asked after a few moments of silence.
“Yes, five or six times.”
“And what did he ask you to do?”
Keshar fidgeted for a moment and Tay, waiting patiently, let him.
“Each time he made the same request. He asked that two suites close to each other on an upper floor be closed off and that he have access to the suites for forty-eight hours.”
“So you gave him the fourth security card.”
“Yes, but he always returned it the following day.”
Keshar cleared his throat.
“Look, Inspector, I can see where you’re going with this, but it won’t do you any good. The fourth security card is in my safe right now and nobody has asked for it in at least six months. There is absolutely no chance that card was used when that poor woman came into the hotel and was murdered. None.”
“Unless it was copied on a prior occasion before it was returned to you.”
“Our systems are installed and serviced by Chubb Security, Inspector. I assure you no copies have ever been authorized and it is absolutely impossible for one to be made without going through Chubb. The built-in encryption is unbreakable.”
Tay’s view on that was somewhat less sanguine. In his experience, what one man could build, another could tear apart. The resources required to do it might be considerable, or they might be closely held, but for the right people with the right access, nothing was ever impossible. Still, Tay saw nothing to gain by arguing the point with Keshar right then so he let it go.
“What does this Mr. Washington look like?” he asked instead.
“I don’t know. I never saw him.”
“Then how did you give him a security card and get it back?”
“One of our couriers delivered it in a sealed envelope along with the numbers of the suites I had blocked. Another courier returned it to me the same way.”
“Where did you deliver it?”
“To the American embassy.”
“Addressed to Mr. Washington?”
“Yes. That’s right.”
A small silence followed while Tay struggled with the implications of what Keshar was telling him.
“Look, Inspector,” Keshar interrupted his reverie, “I should never have told you any of this. I’m sure it’s got nothing to do with your investigation and I was instructed never to mention it to anyone. If head office hears I told you, I don’t know what will happen, but I like my job and I want to keep it. I’m asking you, begging you really, please tell no one that you heard this from me.”
“I’ll do my best, Mr. Keshar, but if the matter becomes relevant to my investigation, that may not be possible.”
Looking unhappy, Keshar waggled his head back and forth. What that was supposed to signify, Tay had no idea.
Tay was too absorbed in what he had already heard to ask any more useful questions and, even if he had, Keshar was so worried he had already said too much that he wouldn’t have offered any useful answers. That meant it was not long before the conversation died altogether, no doubt having bored itself to death.
“That business with the American embassy really can’t have anything to do with that poor woman’s murder, Inspector,” Keshar said yet again as they stood and shook hands.
Tay nodded. He noticed that Keshar’s palm was slightly damp. He examined Keshar’s face closely and saw the tentative look in his eyes, so he said no more. He merely nodded again, left the office, and closed the door quietly behind him.
SEVENTEEN
The American embassy had always looked to Tay like a combination of a Japanese warlord’s castle and the elephant house at a very prosperous zoo. The low-slung building was constructed entirely of giant blocks of stone that made the whole structure seem massively oversized. It sat well back from Napier Road atop a small, doubtless artificial rise and the grassy expanses surrounding it were a peculiar contrast to the uncompromising gray stone.
There was a security post out on the road built of glass and more gray stone. Beyond it, the only approach to the embassy was up a long, exposed concrete ramp. Tay figured its purpose was to give them a good opportunity to shoot you if the security post made a mistake in letting you in.
“Yes, sir. May I help you?”
To Tay’s surprise, the security guard behind the glass appeared to be a Singaporean, not an American.
“I’m Inspector Tay, CID-SIS.” He held up his warrant card. “I have an appointment with, ah…”
Tay hesitated. He suddenly realized he couldn’t remember Cally’s last name, but under the circumstances using her first name seemed unreasonably familiar.
“…your security officer,” he finished, thinking as he did how lame it sounded.
“Yes, sir.” The guard inspected Tay’s warrant card through the glass with obvious care. “We were told to expect you.”
There was a loud clunk and the glass door popped ajar. Tay tugged it open, surprised at its heft, and entered the security post.
“Are you armed, sir?”
The question came from a different guard, also apparently a Singaporean, and it took Tay by surprise. No one had asked him that in so long that he couldn’t remember the last time. He almost never bothered to carry a weapon anymore. That was a couple of pounds he hadn’t had any trouble losing.
“Only with a box of Marlboros,” he said.
Tay smiled, but no one else did.
“There’s no smoking here, sir,” the second guard said.
Tay abandoned the smile and nodded as soberly as he could. He also tried to mix into his expression enough embarrassment and contrition to cover any possible expectations the security guards might have along those lines.
“Cell phone, sir?”
