He motioned for Quinn and Nate to join him.
“I apologize,” Quinn said once they were all enclosed within the van’s cargo area.
“You don’t bring that stuff to my shop,” Ne Win said. “Police find you in there with that, cause me big trouble.”
“Thought you said the police weren’t a problem for you,” Nate said.
“Not problem if I don’t have guns in my shop. What you thinking?”
“Things have changed. I need a place to stay. Room enough for several people.”
“I don’t run hotel.”
“No, but you can find me something, can’t you?” Quinn said. “I’d prefer an apartment. Something with a private entrance.”
“You want maid and butler service, too?”
“Just the apartment.”
Ne Win’s eyes narrowed. “You going to be a problem for me. I can tell.”
“Maybe,” Quinn said.
Ne Win found them a deluxe “service” apartment in a building frequented by ex-pats. It was across the river, but less than a half-mile from the Quayside Villas. In Singapore, everything was close.
Quinn called Orlando and gave her the address.
“It’s going to look kind of odd for me to walk out alone with all these bags,” she said.
“I’ll send Nate to help.”
A pause. “What are you going to do?”
“Jenny said she’d be here in a few hours. We’ve set up a meet.” There was no need to add he wanted to recon the location first. She’d understand that.
“You shouldn’t go alone,” she said.
“Once you get set up at the apartment, send Nate back to help me.”
“What time are you meeting her?”
“Eight-thirty,” he said, then told her where.
He got the sense she wasn’t happy with the arrangement. But the only thing she said was, “Be careful.”
Four main entrances surrounded the Far East Square, each assigned an element of the earth to “guard” the complex—water, fire, metal, and wood. Quinn checked out the rendezvous point first.
A large wooden arch framed the entrance. Mounted at the top of the arch was a round sign. The words
A stone path led beneath the arch past four pillars of water, two on either side. The pillars were cylindrical Plexiglas tubes, each about a foot and a half in diameter, with bubbling water enclosed inside. The effect was mesmerizing.
The mall buildings were all painted a uniform golden yellow and were trimmed in white and accented by dark red wooden shutters on the windows. There were clothing stores and jewelry shops and gift stores and restaurants. There were also carts filled with wares set at strategic points along the walkway.
The crowd, like Singapore itself, was a mix of Asians and Caucasians. There were the obvious unrefined tourists with their cameras and loud shirts and constant excitement over things out of their norm. And the equally obvious stealth tourist, acting the part of the uninterested local, but blowing it by acting more uninterested than any local ever would. Then there were the locals themselves, those who worked at the mall, those who were doing a little shopping, and those who’d stopped by for a quick meal.
Quinn noticed them all, and considered each a potential adversary until he felt confident enough to mark them off his list. By a few minutes after eight, he’d eliminated all but a handful as potential problems, and even those he felt were very unlikely to be trouble.
He knew better than to wait right at the gate, and instead took up position inside the mall, sitting at a table outside a small restaurant.
On the spare chair, he put the leather bag Nate had been carrying earlier, then ordered a coffee from the waitress and began the waiting. His view of the gate was partially obscured by the shoppers, but he could see well enough.
After fifteen minutes, he glanced at his watch: 8:21. Where the hell was Nate?
Three more minutes passed before his phone rang. Quinn answered without looking at the ID.
“You’re late,” he said.
“Jonathan?” It was Tasha.
“I don’t have time to talk right now.”
“At least tell me if you’ve found her?” she asked, her voice hopeful.
He hesitated for a moment, then said, “Yes.”
“Is she with you now?” Tasha sounded surprised.
“Not yet. Soon.”
