Passage of Arms by Eric Ambler Read Free Book Online Page A

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.
    It was with this responsibility in mind that Mr. Tan had written his letter. Some weeks earlier he had received one of Yam Heng's periodic requests for money and noted a veiled belligerence in the wording. It had reminded him that the annual audit of the union books was due shortly, and that Yam Heng would soon be making his annual attempt to extort money by hinting at another raid on the union funds. Mr. Tan's nerves were strong, and for the previous three years he had successfully refused to be intimidated; but he knew gamblers, and there was always the chance that one day Yam Heng might become desperate.
    At that moment, in fact, Yam Heng was merely depressed. He had had two small wins in the past two weeks, and a bigger loss which had cancelled out the winnings. His brother's letter annoyed him.
    It contained a polite inquiry after his health, a detailed account of their mother's most recent illness, and a proposal that he visit Kuala Pangkalan at a convenient moment in the near future. It mentioned that the junk Happy Dawn would be unloading in Singapore the following week, and that the Master would be instructed to offer him a free passage. It gave no hint of a possible reason for the visit.
    Yam Heng knew his brother too well to suppose that the visit had been proposed for any social or family reason. Their mother was senile. Her current state of health could only have been mentioned to make the invitation seem logical to some stranger reading the letter. Yam Heng disliked having his curiosity aroused unless he had the means on hand to satisfy it. The offer of the junk passage irritated him also. It was his brother's way of saying that, if he wanted to travel in comfort by train or plane, he could pay his own fare. He considered sending a dignified reply regretting that pressure of work compelled him to decline the invitation; but, finally, curiosity and the faint hope of another loan decided him to accept. He had just enough money for the train fare.
    His brother met him at the station, greeted him warmly and drove him to the ornate brick and stucco house in Willoughby Road. The first evening was spent in celebrating the family reunion. Old Mrs. Tan emerged from her room, an elaborate dinner was consumed, the young children made their Uncle Yam tell them about Singapore, and the eldest son showed his Voigtlander camera and some of the colour slide photographs of birds which he had made with it. Yam Heng found it all very agreeable. His brother remained friendly and courteous. There were no references, oblique or otherwise, to their long estrangement, nor to the reasons for it. He permitted himself a few restrained smiles, some delicate compliments to his sister-in-law, and a joke or two with the younger children.
    It was not until the following day that his brother revealed the reason for the invitation. In the morning they toured the godowns, visited the truck maintenance shed, and watched one of the junks unloading fifty-gallon drums of fuel oil. Then, they went to the office and tea was served.
    "And how," Siow Mong inquired at last, "is the pickle market?"
    Yam Heng gave him an impassive stare.
    "I ask," Siow Mong continued after a pause, "not in a spirit of criticism, but because I want information."
    For one wild moment Yam Heng wondered if his brother were contemplating a foray of his own. Then, he shrugged. "Some make money, some lose."
    His brother nodded sagely as if he had had. a suspicion confirmed. "I did hear," he went on, "that there is another thriving market now in Singapore."
    "There are markets there in most things."
    "Yes. But I heard—I cannot remember from what source—that the market in arms is