Yesterday's Sins Today's Regrets

By Lawrence J. Marr

Tim Robinson is a very successful insurance broker based in Singapore. His world is turned upside down when he is accused of committing a murder. Banished from the south east Asian city; he returns penniless to England where he is forced to live on the streets as a down and out tramp.
He is pulled into a terrorist plot which leads him into murder, bombings and an anti-American show down on the high seas.
The story moves along at a very fast pace and the reader is compelled to keep turning the pagers to discover the next shocking plot on its way to a remarkable climax.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse UK
• Release date: May 25, 2012
• ISBN: 9781468577563

Lawrence J. Marr

Born in Alnwick, Northumberland, England, Lawrence has lived in Western Australia for the past forty two years. Now retired, his love of writing and painting occupies most of his time when not enjoying family life.

Book preview

Chapter One

Tim Blodger shuffled along the dark alleyway towards a waste bin standing in the farthest corner of the dead end street. London was his city. Large, dirty, overcrowded and dangerous, Blodger knew all of its alleys, streets and squares. He had found out where to find a dry bed and where he could go for food hand outs, or a free meal.

Dressed in a shabby raincoat, woollen beanie hat, a pair of large brown leather boots and carrying plastic bags containing his belongings, he was the classic tramp. Judging his age was difficult as he wore a beard, hiding his face and bright rosy cheeks.

His blue eyes darted from left to right as he observed the darker recesses of the alleyway, keeping a sharp lookout for would be assailants. Through the years he had become very aware of the dangers lurking in the shadows of his lonely world. He had been mugged by young thugs and delinquents looking for money for drugs or food, who didn’t hesitate to use force to obtain their needs.

Arriving at the dump bin, he quickly assessed the contents, picking out aluminium cans, crushing them by foot, and placing them into his plastic bags. There was a small income from the cans and this helped him survive. Old thrown away clothing was also examined and occasionally he would retrieve a valuable article which he placed into a separate bag. Now and then he would find a piece of jewellery, which he would pawn at the local pawn shop. All his income was carefully hidden in a money belt secured below his outer clothing.

Tim Blodger was a victim of the times. No-one knew his exact background, but it was rumoured that he had been a high flying executive with a multi national insurance company. His fall to the streets was unclear, but with all such cases, what was not known was made up and expanded upon. Very soon rumours and innuendoes gave way to legend status, and Tim would never correct anyone who asked him. These included the social and welfare workers, who were constantly sticking their noses into his affairs, trying to help him.

Tim would have none of it and kept very much to himself, with his own thoughts and memories. His past invaded his mind at all times. Gone were the days of ambition and needs. Gone were the days of trying to impress, and gone were the days when he gave a damn about material wealth and status. His was a world of isolation and survival. Squatting down behind the trash bin, he observed the whole alley, the darkness and the people walking past in the street, quickening their pace as they crossed by, furtively glancing into the darkness to see if there was any threat to their progress.

Chapter Two

By the time Timothy Trent Robinson turned twenty two, he had completed a Masters Degree in Social Sciences at Bristol University in England. With A level passes the world was his oyster. His nickname of Blodger had been given to him whilst still at high school, and stuck with him for the rest of his life. Now in 1972 he was ready to spread his wings.

He had offers of senior positions from several large Corporations, including the Universal Assurance Company, located in London. Eager to put to practice the theory he had acquired at University, Tim accepted the offer and was soon working his way upward in the organisation. Tall and good looking with a strong athletic build, he could charm the members of the opposite sex, and never had any difficulty finding girlfriends.

The world of assurance was a long way different from the shelter of University Campus, and Tim took to this life of high finance like a duck to water. Exceptionally clever with figures, he quickly recognised the need for personal contacts, and became a popular member of staff. After two years of hard work, he was asked to spread his wings a little further and was offered a post in Singapore. This is where he really blossomed. He quickly learned that it was not what you knew, but whom you knew, which kept you ahead of the pack. He inherited a position recently vacated by a South African who had left the company to join a competitor, so Tim had introductions to several managers and officers who were familiar with his company.

Unfortunately this also meant that many had not been visited for many months, giving Tim the opportunity to introduce himself, and service the clients in a more personal manner.

Dealing with top corporate executives and large Far Eastern Companies, including Japanese, Australian, Malaysian and Chinese, Tim had so many connections that he soon established huge business trading, which put him way ahead of the other plodders in the insurance field. His earnings skyrocketed and he had a very healthy bank balance.

Investing in stocks and shares on the international money market he was flying high.

He acquired a modern living apartment, just off Orchard Road, in the Cairnhill Crescent area, where many expatriates were domiciled. Decorated in soft, warm colours, and furnished with all the latest designs, Tim created his own little haven where he could relax, listen to his kind of jazz music, and be in contact with the rest of the world via the latest computer technology. His unit was on the seventh floor, where he had a majestic view over the busy shopping centre of Orchard Road, then on down towards Chinatown and the bustling harbour.

Similar to most expatriates living in Singapore, Tim employed a housekeeper, referred to as an armor, who kept his apartment clean and tidy. She came in twice every week and left the place immaculate. Her fees were small but Tim appreciated her attention to detail and loyalty. His laundry was collected once per week; it was always returned immaculate and gave Tim the presentation required for his profession.

Tim Blodger Robinson was soon the toast of the town. He was invited to the top social functions and introduced to the most senior partners in the world of finance and trade. Many cocktail parties were used to enhance his portfolio of clients, and meet the fashionable ladies who were always looking for partners to share their beds and ambitions.

At one of the weekly functions, he met a beautiful lady called Sally Heffernan.

Hi, my name is Tim Robinson, he looked into her sparkling brown eyes, and there was instant chemistry between them.

She smiled, a warm personal smile, I know your name and have heard about you. My name is Sally. Sally Heffernan. She held out a long, slim hand and they touched for the first time.

Tim flashed his broadest smile and held her hand a little longer than usual in an introduction. He felt that he didn’t want to let her go.

Her father was CEO for an American Oil Exploration company, working in the South China seas. She was about five foot eight inches tall, light brown hair and a curvaceous figure. Wearing high heels, her legs appeared perfectly shaped. Sally was wearing a tight fitting, knee length floral dress, with a low cut top emphasising her perfect breasts, her skin tanned to a light brown.

No stranger to good looking women, Tim was so enamoured with Sally’s beauty, he fell head over heels. Yes, he had many girlfriends, some looking for a good time, some too serious and looking for a husband, no matter if they were compatible or not. Tim had played the field and had no thoughts of settling down, but like many a poor sucker, he was, before he realised it, madly in love. They were completely compatible. They shared similar interests, enjoyed the company of their friends and loved the life of expatriates in Singapore.

After that first introduction, they were rarely parted, attending cocktail parties and social functions as the inseparable couple. They became lovers, and spent many hours making love in his apartment.

Sally worked as a secretary in the American Oil Exploration Company’s office in Central Singapore. The company was engaged in contract off-shore oil exploration in the South China Seas. It employed a large staff of geologists, surveyors and rig workers. She had made great friends with several of her co-workers, and in particular Chantelle Cross; an Irish girl whose parents were quite wealthy through breeding and racing thoroughbred horses.

Tim and Sally attended many cocktail parties, where they became well known for their open views on life and sex. True friends were hard to find in an environment of expatriates, who seemed to be moving around the globe, attending conferences or fixing problems within their field of employ. Casual acquaintances were easier to find, and Tim and Sally had a wide list of casual friends, whom they met on a regular basis.

Sally Heffernan had been around the scene for a number of years, travelling from country to country with her parents. She was used to the party circuit and knew the political expediencies required to handle the approaches of crawlers and boot lickers; trying to gain the favours of her father through herself. Handling such people had now become second nature and she quickly shrugged off the whimpering attentions paid by such attention seekers. At the age of twenty five, she had had previous boyfriends, but never any approaching the charm and wit of Tim Robinson.

Chapter Three

Tim Blodger was comfortable sitting on a box, hidden from view behind a skip bin. He relaxed and listened to the sound of traditional jazz music flowing from the Blue Note Club, which had a large rear loading door leading on to the alley. Tim loved jazz. The sounds of improvisation of what he called happy music sent him into a state of euphoria and brought back many great memories.

Tonight the band was belting out a variety of numbers from Oliver and Armstrong to Jelly Roll and Ellington. They were doing a good job and Tim relaxed as he listened to the music drifting on the night air and permeating the dark shadows of the alleyway.

A small noise made him look up sharply and coming towards him was a policeman he recognised as Constable Bert Webster. Bert was an old fashioned copper. Tall, with a barrel chest, he was hard as nails and put up with no nonsense. He was approaching retirement. They had known each other for a number of years and had grown acquainted. Bert was one of the few men to whom Tim had confided his secret existence and even some of his past history. They respected each other and Tim was completely confident that Bert would not broadcast his personal secrets.

How’s things? asked Bert, with a slight Cockney accent.

OK, how’s yourself? replied Blodger. His voice was cultured and smooth.

Bert squeezed down beside Tim and took off his helmet

Not much doing tonight, so far. I’m getting a bit tired of all this, just about ready to retire. I’ve been offered a security job down around Portsmouth and I’m seriously thinking about taking it.

You deserve it Bert, when will you have to go?

In about six week’s time. Must give me notice in first and then find a place to live. The missus is keen to go too. She’s fed up with me shift work and reckons I should retire.

I think you’ll be missed.

Maybe, but with all the drugs and increased violence over the last few years, I’ll gladly leave it to the younger guys.

Just then a commotion broke out from around the corner at the entrance to the club.

Better go and sort this one out said Bert, see you later, take care.

Tim gazed after his friend, as Bert made his way towards the disturbance. He hoped that it was only a minor scuffle. He would not like to see Bert get hurt when he was so close to retirement. Very soon the noise abated and all was quiet again.

Tim slowly walked out of the alley, staying on the opposite side of the road to the club and made his way towards the river, where he had found old, unlocked water pumping tower and where he had spent the past few months in comfortable isolation.

If truth were known, he had actually smashed the lock on the door and replaced it with his own lock. No-one was aware of the access he had gained.

Reaching the water tower, he glanced around to make sure no-one observed his entry as he keyed open the door. Once inside he snapped on the single globe light, which gave an eerie, but sufficient light for his needs and locked the door behind him. Once inside he stripped off his old overcoat, removed his woollen hat and discarded his woollen mittens; revealing a much different Tim Blodger. Gone was the untidy tramp figure and in its place an upright strong looking man, with broad shoulders and a shock of thick black hair. Tim’s outer camouflage was gone, in its place appeared the true man. Here in his private abode, Tim could relax and play his true self.

Here he was happy. No-one hassled him and no-one wanted to solve his problems. Here he lived his life of solitude, where the troubles of the past did not invade his present existence. The building was enclosed so that no light could penetrate either inwards or outwards, yet there was sufficient ventilation to keep the air fresh.

Tim had furnished the room with an old table, two chairs, sofa, cooking utensils and a small television. A single bed occupied a space along one wall and next to it a small bedside cabinet. Most had been acquired from car boot sales and scavenging

The tower contained an old bathroom, where Tim could complete his ablutions and although there was no hot water, an old bath and shower were enough for Tim. He kept it spotlessly clean, always aware of sanitary cleanliness and the prospect of disease uppermost in his mind. Tim turned on the shower over the bath, stripped off his clothing and stepped into the cold water. He was well muscled, a hard, tight body of a thirty six year old man.

Keeping in shape was no problem. Selecting his food carefully and his daily routine of walking all over London, kept him in good shape.

His thoughts returned to the apartment in Singapore some ten years earlier; his time with Sally Heffernan and the dire consequences of their liaison.

Chapter Four

Tim Robinson’s life took a dramatic turn when he and Sally Heffernan met and became lovers.

Tim had never imagined how euphoric love could be. They spent as much time together as work would allow. Every evening they would meet and dine together. Then on to another party or friend’s home, where they would listen to music and drink copious amounts of alcohol, before going on to a night club until the early hours of the next day. Their love making became all-consuming, experimenting in a variety of positions and fantasy. In the hot, humid atmosphere that was Singapore, they would spend hours exploring each others bodies, becoming more and more intense and immersed in sex and their love for each other.

One evening as they lay together, naked and exhausted after making love, Sally said, Remember Lucy Mason we met one night at a party?

Is that the lady who seemed very popular with a lot of male friends? Wears Chinese clothing and her hair styled in the Asian fashion?

Yes, that’s her, confirmed Sally, well! She has asked us to a party next Saturday. Seems like something special. Not many of our friends have been invited but Chantelle reckons that we should go, as Lucy’s parties are really special and a privilege to be invited.

Is it fancy dress, or just a casual affair? asked Tim.

As far as I am aware, it’s casual and we don’t need to take anything except a bottle of wine.

We should give it a whirl then, replied Tim, rolling over and kissing Sally.

I’m heading for the shower. Want to join me? said Tim.

Sure do! Sally swung her legs off the bed and padded, naked, ahead of Tim into the bathroom.

I wonder what’s so special about Lucy’s parties? thought Tim. Perhaps we should ask around in case we are expected to be dressed formally, or prepared for something different?

I’ll ask Chantelle tomorrow, replied Sally, as she soaped her body under the hot stinging water.

Here, I’ll soap your back she said as Tim turned around, close to.

They relaxed under the shower for quite some time before returning to the "bedroom to prepare for a good night’s sleep.

Chapter Five

Only three days to go to Saturday night. Tim was quite excited and looking forward to Lucy Mason’s party. Sally had confirmed that the requirement was casual dress only. She seemed more than keen to get to the party, even though the invite stated around ten o’clock attendance.

They showered and dressed casually in thin summer clothing, ever mindful of the Singapore’s humidity. Sally wore a floral dress, very light and almost see-through.

Her undergarments were lacy and skimpy, her shoes with high heels and thin ankle straps. Tim selected light casual slacks, a floral shirt, not too loud, and leather sandals without socks. Whilst preparing, they sipped on Singapore Sling, a refreshing gin based drink, originally made famous in the Raffles Hotel and sold as a special attraction to the millions of visitors to Singapore.

Very few residents in Singapore owned private cars, due to entry restrictions to the city centre during business hours. Besides, taxis were in abundance and very cheap to use. Most had air conditioning, but when ordering, it was best to stipulate your requirements. Tim had ordered a taxi for nine forty five and it duly arrived on time.

Making sure the security system was turned on, he escorted Sally out to the taxi and they climbed in, giving the driver instructions to Madam Lucy’s home in the district of Jurong. About twenty minutes later they approached their destination. Lucy’s house stood alone in its own grounds. There was a high brick wall around it and iron entry gates. It was an old Victorian house, surrounded by large trees, shielding a shady veranda.

A security man was standing at the gates making sure that persons entering were invited quests and he checked their names off as they entered. Driving towards the house they could see a number of cars already parked and two other taxis making their way back out of the gates. Sally clutched Tim’s arm as they approached. She seemed tense and excited. Tim was apprehensive but looking forward to meeting Lucy.

Tim paid the taxi driver and they alighted from the car. Three steps up to the double door entry, they could see Lucy Mason dressed in a short white dress, welcoming her guests as they entered.

She smiled warmly at Sally and turned her head towards Tim. Sally quickly introduced Tim to Lucy and they were directed into the dimly lit entry hall, with a warm smile, Welcome and I hope you have a lovely evening, said Lucy, please make yourself at home. You will find plenty to eat and drink and I’ll catch up with you later.

The foyer was decorated with marble floor tiles, wood panelled walls and a beautiful staircase carpeted in English Axminster with wrought iron railings and polished timber rail. Off to the left of the foyer was large reception room, furnished in a Chinese fashion with a thick patterned carpet and oil paintings around the walls.

Leading off to the rear of the house was another large reception room which had been set up as a bar and food servery. This room was decorated in the English Colonial style, with a bust of Sir Stanford Raffles (always referred to as "the founder of Singapore) dominating the array of fine English china, displayed in glass cabinets, over which were several paintings of English country scenes. Off to one side, near the rear of the house were a modern kitchen and a smaller dining area.

Tim and Sally walked slowly towards where the party guests were gathering. The rooms appeared to be charged with electricity and the feeling of exotic excitement filled the heavy atmosphere. All the guests had drinks in their hands and as they approached, a young Singaporean girl, carrying a tray, offered them a selection of drinks. Tim took a Tiger beer and Sally opted for a white wine. A voice from behind suddenly made them turn around.

Hello you two, glad you could make it. The voice belonged to Chantelle Cross, a striking blonde, with tanned skin and wearing a short, tight black dress, which showed off her long shapely legs.

Sally smiled and kissed Chantelle lightly on each cheek. This is Tim, Chantelle.

I’m pleased to meet you. Tim glanced appreciatively at the low slung neckline on Chantelle’s dress, which showed off her voluptuous breasts.

I had better tell you the usual format for tonight, smiled Chantelle. First we all have lots to drink and you will find the girls going around offering hors d’eauv, yummy sandwiches and whatever you want to drink. Then when we are all well sozzled, we go into the main attraction, a large room off the side over there, she pointed towards a heavy looking door situated near a staircase.

Because you are ‘first-timers,’ you will not be offered a pick out of a hat. This is a party piece organised by Lucy. Women pick out of one hat and men out of the other. Each person draws a different colour marble and a match made later.

Tim was a bit dubious but Sally smiled and looked at Tim; smiling in anticipation. Chantelle had already explained the procedure of Lucy’s parties, whilst they were at work, so Sally was already prepared for the coming events.

Don’t look so worried, darling. We shall just watch and have a good giggle.

OK, replied Tim, I’m game if you are. He raised his glass to his lips and looked around the room at the other guests.

Chapter Six

There was a cross section of people from all walks of life, about twenty altogether. Tim recognised one or two customers from the corporate side of town and an occasional ex girlfriend who smiled a sweet ‘hello’. Everyone seemed to know someone in the gathering and all were very friendly. In turn they came and introduced themselves. Most dressed similarly to Tim and Sally with one or two starting to look a little inebriated. By now Lucy was circulating and chatting with each group in turn. As she approached Tim and Sally she smiled and laid a hand on Tim’s arm.

I hope you are enjoying yourselves she said later on we have a special treat. I hope you are broad minded as it can get a little risqué.

Sally squeezed Tim’s arm and replied, Thanks Lucy, we are looking forward to it. Do we have to participate?

No dear, just relax and enjoy. If you wish to come again, maybe you will decide to join in, but that will be your decision.

She moved on to chat to the next group. Lucy Mason was a divorcee who had benefited from her split with her husband, acquiring the ownership of his house and half his considerable bank balance. Tim tried to work out how old she was and guessed at about thirty to thirty five years. She had retained her shapely figure and her pale pink rose skin. Tim was trying to work out what sort of ‘special attraction’ was planned, but he didn’t have too long to wait.

Lucy Mason moved over to the stairs and stood on the second step. She clapped her hands to gain attention and asked everyone to be quiet whilst the draw was made. A bag containing coloured marbles was handed to her and she plunged her hand into the bag pulling out a deep red marble.

Laughs and squeals greeted the result. Tim and Sally looked around to discover who were holding the matching coloured balls. Sally grinned broadly when she saw that her friend Chantelle was holding up her marble, coloured deep red. Looking around they discovered a man aged about forty holding the corresponding deep red ball. Everyone laughed as Lucy held up her hand again.

Now we shall allow a few minutes for our lucky couple to go into the dressing room to prepare for their presentation. Tonight the play will focus on ‘the Roman Empire’. Thank you friends and please make your way into the rear bedroom.

Lucy swung her arms towards the rear of the house, past the main staircase, along a passageway and through a doorway which opened into a dimly lit room.

Chapter Seven

After his shower, Tim Blodger dressed in a casual track suit, switched on his stereo player and selected a long playing record by Bix Beiderbeck. Soon his room was filled with exquisite jazz music from the person he considered to be the most innovative and outstanding trumpeter of all time.

He sat down on his old arm chair, closed his eyes and let the music swell over him. Switching on a reading lamp next to him, he settled down to read the daily paper. Everyday, he would find a discarded newspaper in one of the public parks and when he was relaxing at home he would catch up with all the world news.

Tonight was no different. Always aware of the economic and political situations, Tim would read the paper from the front page through to where the sports pages started. He had no interest in the sports pages, but noted the rises and falls of the World Stock Markets. As he turned the pages, several articles and photographs caught his eye, in the ‘Society’ columns.

Leading socialite, Madame Lucy Mason, visits Cartier Exhibition.

Tim sat up with a jerk. What is she doing in London? It had been ten years since he had set eyes on Lucy Mason and here she was, dressed immaculately as always and next to her in the photograph was none other than Sally Heffernan!

The article described how Lucy and her partner Sally had been invited to open the exhibition, as representatives of the Singapore branch of Cartier’s. The event was to take place on the following Friday, in eight day’s time, at Harrod’s store in Knightsbridge. Placing the newspaper slowly down at his side, Tim stared blankly across the room. Questions and thoughts racing through his head.

Ten years ago he had been involved in a drunken party at Lucy Mason’s house in Singapore, with his then girlfriend Sally Heffernan. The memories came racing back to him. The consequences of this liaison were devastating and his life