Singapore Wink by Ross Thomas Read Free Book Online Page A

not very good advertising.”
    Sydney headed for the back shop and Trippet said: “You don’t seem too surprised.”
    â€œI think someone wanted to give me a message. Everything considered, they were more polite than I could expect.”
    â€œWho?”
    â€œI don’t know who did it,” I said, “but I probably know who ordered it done.”
    â€œFriends of yours?”
    â€œNewly found acquaintances. Let’s get a cup of coffee and I’ll tell you about it.”
    We walked around the corner to a short-order cafe that afforded fairly good coffee and after the waitress had served us in a booth I told Trippet about Callese and Palmisano and who they were and what they wanted me to do.
    â€œWhat they did to the Ford and the Jag was just a friendly nudge,” I said. “If I keep on saying no, they might blow up the place or burn it down or something equally unpleasant.”
    â€œAnd if you still said no?”
    â€œThey could get more personal—maybe a broken arm or leg.”
    â€œYou wouldn’t be of much use to them then.”
    â€œI wasn’t talking about my arm or leg, I was talking about yours.”
    â€œCan’t say I fancy that.”
    â€œNo, I didn’t think you would.”
    â€œI suppose we should ring up the police.”
    â€œI suppose so,” I said.
    Trippet poured a small container of cream or milk into his coffee and then reached for the one that belonged to me and poured that in, too. He added three teaspoons of sugar and then stirred it all up together.
    â€œWhat would they do, take fingerprints?” he asked.
    â€œI don’t know,” I said. “Probably ask around the neighborhood to see whether anyone noticed something unusual about three o’clock in the morning—such as somebody hacking away at the tires with a sharp knife.”
    â€œSounds rather useless,” Trippet said. “But we’ll have to call them so that the insurance people will be happy.”
    â€œThat’s true.” I sipped the coffee and it seemed better than usual. “I’ll probably be getting a visit or a call about three o’clock this afternoon from Callese. He’ll be wanting to know what I’ve decided.”
    â€œWhat will you tell him?”
    â€œNo. Or do you have some other suggestion?”
    Trippet leaned against the back of the booth and inspected his coffee spoon carefully. “I’m not unduly upset about the wanton destruction of our private property, Edward. That’s the risk that any entrepreneur takes who ventures into the commercial jungle.” He put the spoon down and looked at me steadily. “I don’t like it, of course, but I’m not outraged—as Sydney is. However, I will not be coerced.”
    â€œThen you agree that I should say no?”
    â€œAbsolutely no.”
    â€œOkay. When we go back to the office we’ll call the police and the insurance company.”
    â€œI’ll take care of it,” he said.
    â€œThere’s one other thing you might do.”
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œCheck to see whether our fire insurance premiums are paid up.”
    The call came from Callese at 3:05 P . M . I remember writing the time down because I thought it might be important. I also took notes on the conversation. I needn’t have bothered; Callese didn’t have anything to say that I couldn’t remember.
    â€œYou can pick up your ticket at the United desk at the airport, Mr. Cauthorne,” he said by way of greeting. “The flight leaves at ten-fifteen tomorrow morning, first class, of course. There’ll also be an envelope with further instructions and some expense money.”
    â€œI won’t be needing it.”
    There was a brief pause, and then something that sounded like a sigh. Or perhaps it was just Callese exhaling smoke from one of his oval cigarettes. “My job is to get you to Washington to see a