Passage of Arms (5 page)

"If your friend respects my wisdom," he remarked, "he must also acknowledge my discretion."

Girija's smile went back into place and his eyes met Mr. Tan's. "Of course. But he is a nervous man. You will see why when I explain." He paused to choose his words before going on. "It appears that some years ago during the emergency, when the terrorists were bringing in arms from the north, my friend found some of these arms—rifles, machine-guns, ammunition." He looked up to see how Mr. Tan was taking this.

Mr. Tan smiled; but very faintly. "And so he turned them over to the police?"

"That, of course, is what he should have done." Girija shrugged. "But, as I said, my friend is a nervous man. He did not wish to call attention to himself. At the time, it seemed best to do nothing. Now, he is in a difficulty."

"Yes?"

"My friend is in need of money. He thought of these arms. If he told the police about them now, there would be questions and trouble. But if a buyer for the arms could be found, perhaps his debts could be paid, and no one would be the worse. The emergency is over. No harm could come of it, only good for my friend."

Mr. Tan sat very still. "You wish me to advise your friend?"

Girija nodded. "That is what he hopes you may do, sir. Yes."

"He should still take the matter to the police. It would be very wrong to try to sell them. He need not say that he found them long ago, but he should certainly go to the police."

Girija spread out his hands. "But, sir, my friend has debts."

"It is better to go to a money-lender than to risk going to prison."

Girija smiled triumphantly. "That was exactly my own advice to him, sir. To risk going to prison for a few hundred dollars is the act of a fool. I told him so."

Mr. Tan hesitated. The agreement baffled him. He knew instinctively that somewhere, somehow, he had mismanaged the conversation. He knew that he was left with only one question to ask, and that when he had asked it he would have lost a battle of wits. But he also knew that his curiosity would have to be satisfied. Mentally he shrugged off the humiliation.

"And what was his reply?" he asked.

Girija's hand went to the row of ball-point pens in his shirt pocket, and drew from behind it a folded sheet of paper. He opened it out and handed it across the desk.

"This paper, sir," he said; "my friend gave me this paper."

Mr. Tan took the paper, spread it out on the desk in front of him and looked down. It was a typed list with the word 'INVENTORY' at the head of it. He read on:

Description
              
Type
      
              
Quantity
              
Today's Free

Market Value

($Straits)

Rifles
    
              
.303 Military S.A.

Belge
       
              
              
54
          
              
16,000

.303 Ammo
              
For above
    
              
5,000 rds
         
6,000

 
Machine pistols
  
Schmeisser
        
              
25
          
              
18,000

.300 Ammo
              
With magazines

for above
              
8,000 rds
         
7,000

Bazookas
              
U.S. Govt. pattern
              
4
            
              
6,000

Ammo for same
  
“
       
“
       
“
         
              
35 rds
   
              
1,000

Grenades
              
Mills unfused
                

Fuses
    
              
for same
                             
              
100
       
              
2,000

Land mines
              
Teller
    
              
              
40
          
              
4,000

                             
                             
                             
              
--------

                             
                             
                             
              
60,000

                             
                             
                             
              
--------

Equals £(Sterling)
              
21,000

Equals $(U.S.)
              
              
75,000

Note: All items in brand new mint condition in original mnfrs. packings, containers, etc.

Prices: All prices f.o.b. vicinity Kuala Pangkalan.

Terms and Conditions: Items sold separate subject 20% increase.

Mr. Tan looked up.

"You see, sir?” said Girija softly; "I was wrong. It is not just a matter of a few hundred dollars, but of many thousands."

Mr. Tan pretended to read the list through a second time in order to give himself time to think. He had little doubt that the 'friend' for whom the clerk claimed to be acting was non-existent. The Indian must have been desperate for money to take the risk of approaching a comparative stranger in this way; or very sure of himself as a judge of character. Mr. Tan had an uneasy feeling that the latter explanation might be the more likely. The fellow looked confident enough, and not at all desperate. Of course, he could be lying, and the whole story could be a mere trick to get money; but Mr. Tan did not really think so. In any case it would be simple to find out. He looked up again and met the clerk's eyes.

"My friend," said Girija, "would be willing to pay a commission of fifty per cent to anyone who found a buyer, and who would take delivery of the goods."

Mr. Tan shook his head. "But this would be a serious criminal matter. Does your friend not understand that?"

"That was my first thought, too," said Girija approvingly; "but he did not agree. This is not stolen property, he says. It has no owner. If it should leave the country the police would have no interest in it. The emergency is over."

"But the laws remain."

"That is true." Girija nodded thoughtfully. "You think, then, sir, that I should tell my friend that you advise him to go to the police?"

"I think you should tell him to put the whole matter out of his mind." Mr. Tan paused and then added: "Perhaps later the law will not be so strict."

"Yes, that is so."

"Such merchandise as this is always saleable." Mr. Tan looked down again at the list. "Have you seen any of these items?"

"My friend is naturally careful."

"But do you believe him? You say he wishes to find a buyer. A list is not proof that there is something to sell. Could he produce samples?"

"He would be more than ready to do that, sir."

Mr. Tan refolded the inventory. "I know little about these matters," he said; "but I have heard that buyers in this market are not easy to reach. Contacts must be found. Time must be spent. There can be no urgency."

"My friend is very patient."

"Then, do as I suggest. Tell him to forget for a while." He looked up at Girija. "You agree?"

"Of course, sir."

Mr. Tan held up the list. "And I may keep this paper?"

It was a test question.

Girija smiled. "My friend will be happy for it to remain in such wise hands, sir."

He rose. The interview was over. When the usual courtesies had been exchanged, he left.

Mr. Tan watched him walk away across the yard, then sent for the Chiang Thye Phu Syndicate estate's files.

The first thing was to find out whether the clerk's discretion and sense of self-preservation were as lively as they had appeared to be. If he had been foolhardy enough to type out his list on Mr. Wright's estate office typewriter and then leave it with someone who could, if it seemed advantageous, go to the authorities and gain credit by reporting the incident, Mr. Tan wanted no more to do with him and would burn the paper at once. If, as he suspected, the young man had been careful to leave himself in a position to deny effectively all knowledge of the conversation they had just had, and of the list, then something might be made of the situation.

He looked through Mr. Wright's office consignment notes and compared the typing on them with that of the list. It was obvious that the list had not been typed on the same machine. So far so good. He read through the list once more and then locked it in his private office safe.

Later that day, when he had had further time to think, he wrote to his brother in Singapore.

II

Tan Yam Heng was the disreputable member of the family. Such, at least, was the view of his brothers in Kuala Pangkalan and Manila.

He was one of the founders of the Singapore Democratic Action Party and organiser of a waterfront trade union which, though small in membership, had sufficient nuisance value to levy tribute on two of the bigger stevedoring companies. As the fruits of these negotiations were always handed over to him personally, privately, and in cash, he did not consider it necessary to report their receipt either to the union auditors or the income tax authorities. He had no time to waste on the pettifogging rituals of accountancy and other hindrances to social progress. He saw himself as a man of power, a manipulator of puppets, choosing to work behind the scenes until the strategic moment came for him to step forward and lead his party on to victory.

If that had been all there were to say of him his brothers would have been content. His political pretensions they could ignore and, devious men themselves, they did not seriously object to his methods of augmenting his income. What they did object to, strongly, was what he did with it.

Most Chinese like to gamble, and with some this liking becomes an addiction as compulsive as those of drugs or alcohol. Yam Heng was a gambler of this kind. Moreover, he was a stupid gambler. Games of chance are at least subject to the law of averages, race horses do sometimes run true to form, and skill can often qualify bad luck at poker; but Yam Heng'
s
conceit and fantasies of omnipotence had in the end demanded more esoteric gratifications. He had taken to gambling on the 'pickle' market.

This unofficial market in raw rubber is conducted by freebooters operating outside the respectable Singapore brokerage houses, and they are speculating on small price fluctuations over short periods. On the pickle market a consignment of rubber in transit may theoretically change hands several times in the course of a day. Large sums of money are made and lost on feverish, bull-and-bear transactions. The successful speculators are Chinese with great experience, cool heads and reliable intelligence organisations. Much use is made of the time differences between the London and Singapore markets, and a few minutes' lead on a piece of cabled information can make thousands of dollars for its possessor. It is the efficient who generally win; the gamblers who generally lose.

The pickle market was no place for Yam Heng. The acquaintance who had introduced him to it was one of a syndicate of small men, and they had been perfectly willing to let an outsider buy in; the stronger the syndicate the better; but his arrogant impatience with their wariness and caution had soon antagonised them. Soon, he had taken his money out of the syndicate and started to plunge on his own.

If he had immediately and heavily lost, the blow to his self-esteem might have caused him to think twice about continuing. Unfortunately, he had won. After that, it had been too late.

His early appeals for loans had been received by his brothers with fraternal tolerance, and responded to in the belief that the money lent would be repaid. They had known, of course, that he was over-fond of gambling, but had believed his profligacy in that respect to be confined to horse-racing or fan-tan. The discovery of the true nature of the 'investments' they were so innocently subsidising had been a disagreeable shock; so had the realisation that Yam Heng had been deceitfully making his applications for loans simultaneously, and in identical terms, to both of them.

There had been worse to come. In the face of their joint refusals to lend him another cent, Yam Heng had blandly informed them that the various union funds in his charge were some thousands of dollars short, and that unless the shortages were made good before the annual audit, the consequences for the Tan name might be serious. There had been hasty consultation between Kuala Pangkalan and Manila. The brothers had paid up in the end; but only after both of them had been to Singapore and personally checked the union books. The days when Yam Heng could be trusted had gone. Thereafter, he had the status somewhat of a poor relation; a responsibility to be discharged as inexpensively as possible.