“No. But I can’t talk about it,” Tiffany said primly.
“Why not?” Lunging forward, Jeff kissed her suddenly and passionately on the mouth.
“Thomas!”
“He obviously wanted me to know. Come on, I won’t tell. What’s he got stashed in there? The world’s biggest bottle of Viagra?”
“Don’t be mean.”
“A toupee spun from threads of pure platinum?”
“Stop it!” Tiffany giggled. “If you must know, it’s some sort of statue. Between you and me, it’s quite hideous. It was a gift from a grateful Iraqi gentleman, after the liberation. Apparently it’s very old and very rare.”
“Just like Alan’s erection,” Jeff couldn’t resist saying. “Look. It’s the boat tour of the River Kwai this afternoon.”
“I know.” Tiffany sighed. “The general’s an expert on World War Two history. I’ve been hearing all about it since Singapore. He really is an incredibly learned and eminent—”
“Get out of it. Say you’re not feeling well.”
“But he knows I’m—”
“Fake something. Come on, Miss Joy. Live a little! I’ll make sure your boss and I are on different boats. Then I’ll duck out early and come and take a look at the general’s priceless treasure.”
“I assume you’re referring to the statue, Mr. Bowers?” Tiffany threw back her hair coquettishly.
“I’ll show you what I’m referring to this afternoon, Miss Joy. Enjoy your breakfast.”
IT WAS A HUNDRED degrees and a hundred percent humidity at the River Kwai. Dressed in khaki slacks and a linen shirt, and carrying a small rucksack, General Alan McPhee was sweating like a pig.
“You must be used to these sort of conditions, General. What’s your secret?”
General McPhee scowled. He disliked Thomas Bowers. The man was too handsome by half, too smooth, too full of himself. Bowers looked immaculate as ever today in a white shirt and shorts, and if he was feeling the heat he didn’t show it. Bastard.
“No secret, Mr. Bowers. Just perseverance.”
“Very admirable. I notice your secretary isn’t with us. Military history not her thing?”
“Miss Joy isn’t feeling very well. I believe she’s resting in her cabin.”
The E&O passengers were divided into two groups and herded toward separate rafts. The Asians were directed toward the vessel with a Japanese-speaking guide, and the Europeans to one with an Australian ex-serviceman providing the commentary.
Jeff made his way toward the Japanese raft. He was immediately accosted by the train’s chief steward, a look of panic on his face.
“No, no, Mr. Bowers. For a tour in English, you must join the other line.”
“Thanks, Helmut. But I prefer this one.”
Jeff pushed forward.
“Please, Mr. Bowers, it is most important. We ask all our European visitors to board the other raft.”
“I’m sure you do.” Jeff smiled. “But I’m taking this one.”
Noticing the minidrama being played out behind him, General McPhee came over.
“What’s the matter, Bowers?”
Jeff whispered in the general’s ear. “I heard they give very different versions of the tour on the Japs’ boat. Apparently they tell them about how brave and noble their soldiers were, and how their mistreatment of the Allied prisoners of war was exaggerated. I’m curious to hear it.”