[Quinn 02] - The Deceived

“Last time her friend order a dress, she come in after I’m almost done, have me change everything. Not my fault. I do exactly what she wants. So she change, I charge her. She mad, but so what? Not mad enough she not come back, eh?”

They opened their beers and knocked them together in a silent toast.

“You want good work, you have to pay for it,” Quinn said, then took a drink.

“Damn straight,” Ne Win said.

Quinn laughed. That was a phrase Quinn had taught him.

Ne Win lifted his can to his lips and took a deep drink. “Your friend want a beer?” he said, nodding his chin toward Nate.

“He’s fine,” Quinn said.

“Maybe I have seamstress make the dress a centimeter or two too small. Tell her she must have put on weight since I measure her.”

“You’d do that, wouldn’t you?” Quinn asked.

“Hell, yes. Done before. Very funny.”

They both took another sip of their beers.

“How’s business?” Quinn asked.

Ne Win shrugged. “Everyone always wants dress. Just some don’t want to pay big store price, huh? My dresses better anyway.”

“That’s what I’ve heard.”

“Who you hear that from?”

“Well... actually I heard that from you.”

Ne Win huffed a mock laugh, then brought the can back to his mouth.

“I’m in need of a few items,” Quinn said.

Ne Win continued to hold the beer to his lips, allowing the amber liquid to trickle into his mouth, his expression unchanged. Except for his eyes. They seemed to take in the whole room before focusing on Quinn. The old man lowered the beer, then shook his head once in each direction, the movement all but unnoticeable.

“I don’t make men’s shirts anymore,” Ne Win said, his voice the

same as it had been before. “I have friend, though. Very good.” “That would be great,” Quinn replied. “Is he here in the building?” “No. No. Down the street.” Ne Win set his can on top of the

cooler and turned to Quinn. “I show you, okay?” “What about the shop?” “My daughter watch. She work next door.”

Ne Win was silent until they were on the sidewalk walking west along Orchard Road. “Everywhere someone listening, you know?” Ne Win said, voice

low. “Never know when someone put bug in my shop.” “You don’t do a sweep?” Nate asked. Ne Win narrowed his eyes, giving Nate the up-and-down. “Stupid

question.” “This is Nate,” Quinn said. “He’s my apprentice.” “Ah, explains it. Well, Mr. Apprentice. Do I check for bugs? Of

course. Do you think I’m stupid? Every morning. Every night. I still

find them. Couple times a week.” “Who’s putting them there? The police?” Nate asked. Ne Win blew out a loud, dismissive breath. “Police don’t touch me.” Nate looked confused. “Competition. Young guys, you know. Work out of Geylang.

Want to find out who my clients are.” “Why don’t you just stop them?” Nate asked. “That’s enough questions,” Quinn said. The old man smiled. “Someday when I’m bored, I take care of it.” It never mattered what day it was, as long as the shops were open,

Orchard was crowded. Like a lot of Singapore, it was a mixed crowd— Chinese, Caucasian, Malay, Indian, and all combinations in between. And those were just the residents. There were tourists also— Europeans, Japanese, Australians, and a few Americans—all enjoying a little bit of Asia lite.

They passed two women pushing baby carriages, then stopped at a corner to wait for the streetlight to change.

“The usual?” Ne Win asked. “To start,” Quinn said, knowing the old man knew about his preference in firearms. “Something for him, then?” Ne Win’s gaze flicked toward Nate. “You sure you can trust him with weapon?”

Quinn smiled. “He’s all right,” he said. “There’s a few other things I’ll need.” He pulled a list out of his pocket and handed it to the old man.

Ne Win looked it over, then nodded. “Easy, easy.” The light turned green and they began to cross. “There’s something else,” Quinn said, getting to the other reason

for his visit. Quinn’s supplier tensed. It was subtle, but Quinn had seen it. “What is it?” Ne Win said. “I’m looking for someone.” “Good luck. Singapore big city.” Quinn paused. “Someone you know.” “I know lots of people.” Quinn looked over at the old man. “It’s Steven Markoff.” Ne Win smiled at a passing woman, but said nothing. “Have you seen him?” The old man took a deep breath, then said, “He not here. Was, but

not now.” “When was this?” They reached the curb and stepped up onto the sidewalk. “Don’t re

member. One week, two weeks, a month? Don’t know where he is now.” “He’s dead.” Ne Win reacted a moment too late. “Dead?” “You knew that, didn’t you?” Quinn said. Ne Win looked at Quinn. He didn’t appear to be scared, just annoyed.