A Different Sky (39 page)

‘How can you encourage Mei Lan in this?' he argued, watching Mei Lan opening the steriliser on the other side of the room and angry that, in spite of the hours she spent with him, she had not told him she was putting her life in danger each day.

‘She feels like I do. You know her brother and grandfather were murdered by the Japanese.'

‘There are informers everywhere; someone will talk.' Howard took hold of her arm, seeing the further danger.

‘We're careful no one sees us,' Cynthia answered.

When Howard arrived at the hospital the following evening he found Mei Lan in Cynthia's small room secretly packing a bag with quinine. At first she was unwilling to tell him where she was going, her complicity with Cynthia made all the stronger by his alarm. He began to argue, but when he looked into her defiant face he was suddenly frightened.

‘The Japanese are everywhere looking for people doing just this kind of thing. It's too dangerous, too great a risk,' Howard pleaded, pulling her towards him, his voice breaking with distress. Mei Lan did not resist but put her arms about him, leaning against him in mute appeal.

‘They killed Grandfather, they killed JJ. I'll do whatever I can to help the resistance,' Mei Lan whispered fiercely, drawing away from him. ‘The communists have a hideout near here. I've only taken medicine
to them once before. This time one of the boys is too sick to get to the hospital. Usually, Cynthia goes but tonight she can't leave the clinic as a Japanese doctor is around.' Mei Lan turned away to add some last items to the bag.

‘I'll come with you, then,' Howard said grimly when he saw she would not be deterred.

Wee Jack sent a boy of nineteen with broken teeth and a scar on his chin to lead Mei Lan to the hideout. Before the war Brokentooth told them, he had worked in a foundry as a welder. Howard took the bag of medicines from Mei Lan, furious that someone like Wee Jack had been able to persuade Mei Lan to risk her life for his men.

They came into a field of
lallang
and skirted a patch of tapioca. The moon had settled behind the clouds, and in the darkness Brokentooth occasionally shone a small torch on the path to point out a rutted area. After some time, they reached an abandoned
kampong
. Mei Lan half stumbled into a shell hole and Howard tightened his grip on her arm. Wee Jack materialised suddenly out of the darkness and they followed him silently up a few rickety steps into the remains of a wooden hut, raised on stilts above the ground. In the beam of Wee Jack's torch they saw two men crouched beside the patient who lay on the floor, moaning deliriously. Mei Lan stepped forward, putting down the rucksack.

‘He's burning with fever,' she said as she knelt to the sick man. Wee Jack shone his torch and Mei Lan gasped in shock.

‘You told me he had malaria but he has a septic bullet wound. I'm not a doctor; I'm not even a nurse. I can give a malaria injection but no more. Quinine is all I have in this bag. You'll have to bring him into the hospital.' She raised her voice angrily, but Wee Jack gestured for her to be silent, and stood listening intently. Soon, they heard the sound of an approaching car, then a slamming of doors and loud voices shouting in Japanese.

‘Get out of here,' Wee Jack whispered hoarsely, running to escape through a back window followed by Brokentooth and his friends. In the corner the wounded man moaned loudly.

Howard pulled Mei Lan with him through a splintered gap of wall, half jumping, half falling out of the hut. They crawled under the house and by the headlights of the military truck, left on to illuminate the area, Howard made out a mound of debris from a collapsed portion
of the house a few feet from where they crouched. As a volley of shots rang out, he pushed Mei Lan behind the pile of splintered planks.

Above them, inches from their heads, was the sound of running feet. The wounded man's screams grew louder and Howard drew Mei Lan close. She buried her face in the crook of his arm. The headlights of the military jeep blinded him, limiting his view of what was happening in front of the house. Another shot rang out, and the sick man's screams stopped abruptly. More footsteps thudded above them. A torch was shone down on to the debris they hid behind, and then it was gone. The soldiers ran out of the house and off into the
lallang
to search for Wee Jack and his friends, their torches spearing the darkness. More gunshots were heard, but at a distance now.

‘Wait,' Howard whispered into Mei Lan's ear; the car with blazing headlights was still before the house.

After a while the soldiers returned, dragging with them one of Wee Jack's friends. The man was thrust into the back of the jeep and the vehicle drove off. Silence and darkness returned.

T
HE FOLLOWING DAY THE
kempetai
visited the house on East Coast Road and took Mei Lan away. Ah Siew could think of only one place to go for help. She appeared at the Joo Chiat Hospital before Cynthia, wringing her hands, her face drawn in fear and anxiety.

‘She has no one but me. Elder brother and Grandfather are dead. Second Grandmother is going out of mind and Third Grandmother only thinking of own children. Half-brother's brain is not correct and Father is staying in Hong Kong. She is always speaking about you. Help her. Please.' Ah Siew prostrated herself before Cynthia in the Emergency Clinic in the early evening.

After calming the old woman and sending her home, Cynthia hurried to Cousin Lionel's house in search of Howard, running part of the way from the Joo Chiat Hospital before she found a free rickshaw.

‘The man the soldiers caught yesterday at the hideout must have informed on her. They probably tortured him,' Howard said, seeing again the soldiers dragging the man into their car. He remembered burying his face in Mei Lan's hair, inhaling the flowery scent as he held her in his arms.

‘Go to that Indian again, the one who got her grandfather out. For God's sake, go to him quickly,' Cynthia told him. Howard needed no prompting; already he was following her down the veranda steps, his heart beating fast in distress.

‘Again?' Raj said irritably as Howard stood before him in Manikam's Cloth Shop. Howard was unable to find a rickshaw and had run the whole distance to Serangoon Road, slowing only when he saw soldiers or had to pass a checkpoint, bowing low before the guard.

‘I cannot keep asking Shinozaki for favours,' Raj frowned as he opened the door. It had been a day of problems, and he had been dozing when the knocking woke him. For a moment Howard thought
the Indian might refuse to help, but with an exasperated sigh Raj searched for his keys, shut the shop and went with Howard to the Toyo Hotel where he knew the diplomat would be. As on their last visit, Shinozaki was at dinner with Colonel Yokota. Once again, as Raj and Howard waited in the foyer, the strains of a lively mazurka from the Hungarian orchestra drifted from the dining room.

‘Again? Shinozaki queried drily when at last he appeared, looking at Howard in unfeigned displeasure as he sat down on the same red plush chair as before. His cheeks were noticeably pouched, and his eyes puffy behind his heavy spectacles.

‘I cannot save everyone from everything all the time,' Shinozaki announced wearily, stubbing out his cigarette before going off to make enquiries about Mei Lan. In a few minutes he returned, a grim expression on his face.

‘It is a serious case of anti-Japanese activities; it seems the woman is a communist. Please understand, it is difficult for me nowadays. I am no longer in charge of the Chinese Overseas Association; Colonel Watanabe is running it now.' Shinozaki's voice trembled with anger at the thought of the many humiliations he had recently suffered at the hands of Colonel Watanabe. Sitting down again he reached for his cigarettes.

‘Colonel Watanabe knows I was trying to help the Chinese people through the Chinese Overseas Association. He has told everyone I am not a suitable man to be employed during wartime. I have even been asked if I am really a Chinese instead of a Japanese, because I am so soft on the Chinese community.' Shinozaki gave a harsh laugh and blew out one of his perfect smoke rings, watching it widen and float away before continuing.

‘Colonel Watanabe and his friends have come up with the idea that the Chinese community must make a donation of $50 million to Japan in apology for their anti-Japanese behaviour before the surrender. Everyone must pay, especially if they are property owners. They say this is a voluntary donation, but I can assure you there will be nothing voluntary about it. I have suffered many humiliations. My voice is no longer heard.' Shinozaki frothed with anger.

‘Can you do anything for Lim Mei Lan?' Howard interrupted, unable to sit through any more of the diplomat's self-absorbed musings.

‘Mayor Odate has understood the difficulty of my position at Defence
Headquarters and has asked me to leave the Military Administration Department and join him in the City Administration Department where I can better help the people of Singapore. Soon I shall move there,' Shinozaki informed them, blowing smoke through his nostrils.

‘Did you find out where she is? You have to get her released.' Howard was unable to control the desperation in his voice. Shinozaki looked at him coldly.

‘Tomorrow you can try going to Orchard Road, to
kempetai
headquarters at the YMCA. They are keeping her there. Ask for Lieutenant Colonel Hirose, you can say I sent you. I can do nothing more.'

The YMCA was a prominent landmark with an imposing portico and a gabled roof. Bamboo blinds shaded its airy balconies. It was now one of the
kempetai
's main centres and used for interrogation. It had become a building to dread. People avoided walking past it; terrible sounds were said to come from its depths and few of those who entered it emerged again in one piece. Howard went there the following morning with Raj. He had steeled himself for the worst, but saw only an innocuous buzz of bureaucracy as he entered the building. It was a busy place with uniformed men hurrying up and down a flight of stairs, carrying files or sheaves of paper.

They were shown into an office on the second floor where they met Lieutenant Colonel Hirose.

‘You realise of course that you have only got to see me because of Mr Shinozaki,' he informed them immediately, his voice smooth and cool as he gestured to the chairs before his desk. He spoke good English; all the top
kempei
spoke English so that the interrogation of non-Japanese could be all the more thorough. They sat down and Howard asked the question he had come to ask.

‘Ah yes. That woman.' Lieutenant Colonel Hirose nodded. ‘There are several serious charges against her. From the beginning we were aware of her anti-Japanese activities with the China Relief Fund but her grandfather was of more interest to us. However, she is now known to be consorting with communists and supplying them with medicines. Her home was searched and documents of an incriminating nature were found.' Hirose reached across his desk for a small cup of Japanese tea and took a sip.

‘What is your relationship with this woman?' he asked, his eyes upon Howard.

‘She has no family to speak for her; that is why I have come.' Howard returned the man's gaze, holding his anger in place, sensing danger.

‘You keep the company of communists? That is most interesting.' Hirose raised his eyebrows above the blue patterned teacup.

‘She is not a communist and neither am I.' Howard could not control the indignation in his voice.

‘Interesting,' Hirose said again, almost under his breath.

Howard had the sensation that he was sinking to the bottom of a great empty space. Then, unable any longer to control his desperation he found himself on his feet, facing Hirose behind the desk. Before he could speak Raj jumped up and stepped forward beside him, bowing to the officer in a subservient way.

‘We apologise for wasting your time. The woman is not related to Mr Burns. He is a kind-hearted man and did not know properly the charges against her. Of course, he now understands your need to keep her here.' Raj bowed low again.

Observing them sourly, Lieutenant Colonel Hirose replaced his teacup on its wooden saucer and with a curt nod of dismissal turned his attention to the documents on his desk. Raj took hold of Howard's arm and hustled him from the room.

‘Why don't you help find out where she is?' Howard burst out furiously as the door shut.

‘Keep your voice down. He will do nothing. I have an idea. I will ask Shinozaki to request them to release her so that she can arrange to make her share of that $50 million donation Watanabe wants from the Chinese community. She cannot make arrangements for this while she is a prisoner. I have heard some prisoners have already been released for this purpose,' Raj said.

As they came down the stairs a guard was ascending with a middle-aged Chinese man, thin as an ancient in filthy clothes, who climbed the stairs painfully beside him. As they stepped back to let him pass, Howard found his mouth was dry and his heart beat rapidly with the thoughts that came to him. Somewhere in this terrible place Mei Lan was incarcerated, subjected to a force of malevolence he had yet to fully comprehend. He wanted to run from the building, but instead made himself walk without haste down the stairs.

‘You have put both of us in danger by coming here,' Raj whispered angrily from behind him.

At last they reached the entrance and passed the guards with bayonets. A thick blade of sunlight thrust into the building as they pushed open the door. Outside in the road, Howard saw a stray dog cock its leg against a tree; a man on a bicycle passed, cars and rickshaws rattled by and he clung to these harmless sights. The menace he felt from the building pressed upon him: he expected at any moment to be apprehended and dragged back into the darkness. Before meeting Lieutenant Colonel Hirose he had hoped someone could be persuaded to release Mei Lan, or take him to her so that he could assure her he would soon get her out. A guard was watching and seeing Howard's hesitation stepped forward, gesturing to him to leave, his bayonet catching the light.