Read Online THE GIRL IN THE WINDOW (The Inspector Samuel Tay Novels Book 4) by Jake Needham - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Jake Needham
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your life, keep your mouth shut and listen. You’ll find out everything you need to know, and nothing you don’t.” And then Goh winked at him, actually winked . “That’s what need to know means.”
Tay gave a little wave with one hand that could have meant almost anything. Then he leaned back, folded his arms, and waited.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
“AS ALL OF you already know,” Goh told the room, “we have intelligence Abu Suparman has either already slipped into Singapore or soon will. We’re going to take him down the moment he shows his face, and you’re the people who are going to do it.”
No one said anything or offered any obvious reaction to Goh’s announcement. There was no applause, certainly no pumping fists. These people were all far too professional for that. But there was electricity in the air, and Tay could feel it.
“We’re setting a trap for him,” Goh continued. “His sister has been diagnosed with third-stage breast cancer. Her doctor in Indonesia recommended a radical mastectomy and the surgery is scheduled here in Singapore on Saturday. Even with the procedure, she has only been given a fifty-fifty chance of survival. We are therefore certain that Suparman will try to see her sometime before the surgery.”
Suparman was a dangerous terrorist and taking him out of circulation was absolutely necessary, Tay knew, but going about it this way gave him a moment of pause. Using a man’s sister who was dying of cancer to lure him into a trap? Somehow that didn’t seem decent.
The lights in the room abruptly lowered and a large screen on the wall behind Goh came alive. A photograph of a pleasant but unremarkable looking middle-aged woman appeared on the screen. Tay thought she looked Malaysian or Indonesian.
“This is Atin Hasan,” Goh said. “She is Abu Suparman’s sister.”
The woman was of medium height and slightly plump with the chubby red cheeks of a healthy baby. She had on a dark red hijab with strands of black hair peeking from beneath it and was wearing jeans and what looked like a man’s shirt with the tails hanging down over her waist. The woman had a white plastic carrier bag in her left hand and on it Tay could just make out the Cold Storage Market logo. The photograph had the oddly flattened look of one taken through a long telephoto lens.
“Atin Hasan will be arriving at Changi Airport from Jakarta around eleven-thirty this morning. We will have eyes on her from the moment she leaves the airplane. The intelligence we have now is that she will be staying at the Temple Street Inn in Chinatown until Friday, when she will check into Mount Elizabeth Hospital for her surgery on Saturday morning. Because of her condition, we assume she will go straight to the hotel on arrival, but if she goes anywhere else we are prepared for that, too.”
“Do we know who she is traveling with?” The question came from a Caucasian man on the left side of the room and Tay thought he detected traces of an Australian accent.
“Our information is that she will be alone,” Goh said.
Tay raised an eyebrow. That didn’t feel right. Who traveled by himself to another country for medical treatment when you had only a fifty-fifty chance of survival? Surely the woman must have family who could give her help and support at such a time. Why would she be in Singapore alone unless…well, unless what ? Tay couldn’t come up with anything at all.
“How solid is this intelligence?”
The question came from a tall man with a Chinese face sitting in the second row. Tay assumed he was probably ISD. The man looked to Tay to be no more than twenty-five or thirty years old. People around him seemed to get younger and younger every year.
“This intelligence is as solid as intelligence gets,” Goh answered.
Tay snorted, but he did it quietly. If that was the best Goh could do, he figured they were in trouble.
Tay worked on the basis of facts; things he either knew to be true or had good reason to
Tay gave a little wave with one hand that could have meant almost anything. Then he leaned back, folded his arms, and waited.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
“AS ALL OF you already know,” Goh told the room, “we have intelligence Abu Suparman has either already slipped into Singapore or soon will. We’re going to take him down the moment he shows his face, and you’re the people who are going to do it.”
No one said anything or offered any obvious reaction to Goh’s announcement. There was no applause, certainly no pumping fists. These people were all far too professional for that. But there was electricity in the air, and Tay could feel it.
“We’re setting a trap for him,” Goh continued. “His sister has been diagnosed with third-stage breast cancer. Her doctor in Indonesia recommended a radical mastectomy and the surgery is scheduled here in Singapore on Saturday. Even with the procedure, she has only been given a fifty-fifty chance of survival. We are therefore certain that Suparman will try to see her sometime before the surgery.”
Suparman was a dangerous terrorist and taking him out of circulation was absolutely necessary, Tay knew, but going about it this way gave him a moment of pause. Using a man’s sister who was dying of cancer to lure him into a trap? Somehow that didn’t seem decent.
The lights in the room abruptly lowered and a large screen on the wall behind Goh came alive. A photograph of a pleasant but unremarkable looking middle-aged woman appeared on the screen. Tay thought she looked Malaysian or Indonesian.
“This is Atin Hasan,” Goh said. “She is Abu Suparman’s sister.”
The woman was of medium height and slightly plump with the chubby red cheeks of a healthy baby. She had on a dark red hijab with strands of black hair peeking from beneath it and was wearing jeans and what looked like a man’s shirt with the tails hanging down over her waist. The woman had a white plastic carrier bag in her left hand and on it Tay could just make out the Cold Storage Market logo. The photograph had the oddly flattened look of one taken through a long telephoto lens.
“Atin Hasan will be arriving at Changi Airport from Jakarta around eleven-thirty this morning. We will have eyes on her from the moment she leaves the airplane. The intelligence we have now is that she will be staying at the Temple Street Inn in Chinatown until Friday, when she will check into Mount Elizabeth Hospital for her surgery on Saturday morning. Because of her condition, we assume she will go straight to the hotel on arrival, but if she goes anywhere else we are prepared for that, too.”
“Do we know who she is traveling with?” The question came from a Caucasian man on the left side of the room and Tay thought he detected traces of an Australian accent.
“Our information is that she will be alone,” Goh said.
Tay raised an eyebrow. That didn’t feel right. Who traveled by himself to another country for medical treatment when you had only a fifty-fifty chance of survival? Surely the woman must have family who could give her help and support at such a time. Why would she be in Singapore alone unless…well, unless what ? Tay couldn’t come up with anything at all.
“How solid is this intelligence?”
The question came from a tall man with a Chinese face sitting in the second row. Tay assumed he was probably ISD. The man looked to Tay to be no more than twenty-five or thirty years old. People around him seemed to get younger and younger every year.
“This intelligence is as solid as intelligence gets,” Goh answered.
Tay snorted, but he did it quietly. If that was the best Goh could do, he figured they were in trouble.
Tay worked on the basis of facts; things he either knew to be true or had good reason to
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