Angel in the Full Moon (27 page)

“Sir, I was following them and was about to take a picture when they turned suddenly and saw me. I considered it a good response. They'd never suspect the police of doing something like that.”

“Only if they presumed the police were competent,” said Isaac. “This is why the investigation fell flat in Costa Rica! A child was brutally tortured and murdered because of these two men. The same two men you had the gall to tell me weren't worth working on!”

“We didn't know that, then, sir. How was I to know? I believe I made the right decision with the information I had available.”

Isaac rested his elbows on his table, clasping his hands together near his chin as he weighed over the scenario that Quaile had just told him. “I'm going to give this some serious thought,” he said. “You're dismissed ... for now.”

Moustache Pete and Fat Man arrived in their room at the Hotel Happy Holiday as scheduled. Fifteen minutes after their arrival, Sonny took off a set of headphones and turned a dial on a receiver. Both Jack and Laura heard the sound of two men snoring.

“Looks like we weren't the only tired ones,” said Laura.

A light knock on Jack's door was answered by Sonny, who spoke quietly to one of his men. He closed the door and turned to Jack and Laura and said, “When they checked in, they asked to be awakened at nine o'clock tomorrow morning.”

“It sounds like we can all get some sleep,” said Jack.

Sonny dismissed his team after telling them to be back at the hotel by seven in the morning. Laura returned to her own room and Jack and Sonny went to bed while listening to the static noise over the monitor of two men snoring in the room above.

The next day the Russians were awakened on schedule. They took a leisurely breakfast in the hotel while a surveillance team relayed their activities to Sonny, who stayed in the room with Jack and Laura. After eating, Sonny was informed that the Russians had decided to take a dip in the hotel pool.

Jack saw Sonny's face as he wrinkled his nose while talking in Vietnamese over the phone. When he hung up, Jack said, “Let me guess, they both walked to the pool wearing Speedos, black socks, and sandals.”

“You speak Vietnamese?” asked Sonny.

Jack and Laura both laughed and Jack said, “No, only a few words ... but we have seen this unfortunate sight before.” It was not until mid-afternoon and after the Russians had downed several vodkas on ice while sitting in the hotel restaurant before Jack and Laura received some news of interest.

“They've just met a Vietnamese man,” said Sonny. “He arrived in a taxi. They are ordering more drinks.”

Minutes later, Sonny found out that the Vietnamese man had flagged the taxi down off the street. “Don't worry,” said Sonny. We will find out who he is.”

It was early evening when the Russians and their Vietnamese escort left the hotel and crossed a nearby plaza to a restaurant for dinner. After dinner, Sonny reported that the three men had gone to the Thang Long Water Puppet Theatre.

Sonny explained that this theatre was world renowned. He said the puppeteers stood behind bamboo screens in a large pool of water and used bamboo poles to raise puppets out of the water to complete a performance.

Interesting
, thought Jack, but nothing to do with our investigation!

Following the theatre, the two Russians caught a taxi back to the hotel while the Vietnamese man took a taxi elsewhere.

It was ten o'clock at night when the two Russians arrived in the lobby and checked at the desk for messages. There weren't any.

Sonny put on the headphones as the Russians entered their room. “They are angry,” he said. “They expected to receive a message and didn't. Now they are tired and are going to bed—wait they are phoning ... no, they have just asked to be awakened at nine o'clock again.”

An hour later, Sonny took off the headphones and turned up the volume to the familiar sound of snoring.

Sonny received a call on his own phone. When he hung up, he said, “Good news for you. The Vietnamese man went to an apartment. We think it is his place because he had a key to the door. His name is known to us. He is the captain of a boat and has been suspected of smuggling drugs in the past.”

Jack breathed a sigh of relief.
Much better news than hearing they came for a puppet show.

Sonny broke off his surveillance team with the order that they be back at the hotel by seven in the morning as usual.

It was after midnight when Jack was awakened from his sleep by the sound of a telephone ringing. It took him a second to realize that the sound was coming over the monitor and not from his own room. Sonny quickly got up and put on the headphones.

Jack quickly put on his pants and ran next door to summon Laura.

The minutes ticked by as Jack and Laura watched Sonny, who was scribbling notes as he listened. “They are arguing,” he said. “Both Russians have been talking on the phone. They are angry. They are saying to wait until tomorrow. The man they are talking with ... he is speaking English, but his accent is Vietnamese.”

“Maybe the boat captain?” offered Jack.

“No,” said Sonny. “The Russians mentioned having met the boat captain on time tonight. He is asking why this person did not meet them earlier.” Sonny pressed the earphones closer to his head and said, “The caller said it is the same place as last time and that he would meet them out front.”

“Out front of where? Here or the place?” asked Jack.

“I don't know.” Sonny muttered something in Vietnamese and ripped off the headphones. Jack didn't need it translated to know that he swore.

“They're on the move?” he asked.

“Yes ... and I have no team to follow!”

“You have us,” said Jack, grabbing his new helmet. “I'll stoop. Laura—”

“I'll get it,” she said.

“Wait,” ordered Jack. Above them they could hear the sounds of the Russians' voices. “They're already outside their room,” whispered Jack. “Give them a few seconds' head start. If they see us coming out of here at this time of night at the same time as them, the jig will be up.”

When the sound of the Russians' voices disappeared from above, Laura grabbed her conical hat and joined Jack and Sonny as they ran down the stairs. The lobby was empty and they hurried out the front doors of the hotel.

A thick mat of black clouds covered the night sky and pieces of garbage were gusting down the street, still wet from an earlier rain. The hotel was well lit, but, within a few metres, the street disappeared into clusters of dark shadows amongst merging streets and alleys.

Sonny ran toward his car, which was parked nearby. “I'll circle the block,” he said. “You walk, if you see them, call me on my cell or wave me down.”

Seconds later, Jack and Laura saw a taxi nose out of an alley in front of them and they stepped back into the shadows.

“See anything?” asked Jack.

“Not sure.”

The taxi sped off down the street and Jack and Laura saw two figures sitting in the back seat.

“Damn it!” said Jack, watching as the taxi put on its turn signal.

Headlights from another car appeared in the alley and Jack and Laura watched.

“Sonny's got 'em,” said Laura.

Jack saw Sonny zoom out of the alley without stopping
and speed down the street, turning where the taxi did.

The street was now quiet, void of any human activity except for Jack and Laura.

“That had to be them,” said Jack.

“Now what do we do?” asked Laura.

“Back to my room and wait.”

They were just about to enter the hotel when Jack shoved Laura up against the wall and pulled her conical hat to one side as he nestled his face into her neck.

“What the ...?”

“Shut up. It's them,” whispered Jack.

Laura heard the hotel door open and the sound of Fat Man's voice beside her as he spoke angrily in Russian to Moustache Pete.

Laura remained where she was, peeking past the side of Jack's face as the Russians walked past them and stood nearby on the sidewalk. “They're just standing there,” she whispered. “Glancing back at us ... or maybe the lobby. Looks like they're waiting for someone. What should we do?”

“What kind of perfume are you wearing?” whispered Jack.

“You ass!” whispered Laura. “How could ...”

Jack covered his mouth as he sneezed before whispering, “I have allergies to certain cosmetics. Sorry.”

“Oh.”

“Why do you think I asked?”

“Because you're a man—you know why!”

Jack snickered and said, “You're right ... and if I keep standing like this, I'll forget why we're here. Come on, straighten your hat and make a break for the lobby. Just don't look back before we reach the desk.”

Jack and Laura hurried inside the lobby and the desk clerk said, “Please don't use the elevator. It's sticking between floors.”

Jack had no intention of using the elevator and he took out the cellphone that Sonny had provided him and quickly punched in the numbers. “Busy,” he told Laura.

Outside, the Russians were looking down the street and stepped forward as a set of headlights appeared.

Jack hit the redial button again. “Still busy,” he sighed. “Sonny's probably trying to get help. Doesn't know he's on the wrong guys.”

Jack and Laura watched as a taxi drove up, but the Russians waved for it to continue and stepped back.

“They're waiting for someone to pick them up in a car,” observed Jack, heading over to talk with the desk clerk.

“Do you drive a car?” asked Jack.

“No. Motor scooter,” he replied.

“Is it at the hotel?”

“The red Honda Helix parked out front,” he replied, suspiciously.

“I want to rent it from you.”

“No, sorry, I cannot do that.”

“I will pay you fifty American dollars.”

“Fifty! I don't know ... I—”

“That's fifty an hour, I mean.”

The clerk smiled. “Here are the keys. Take your time. There is much to see in Hanoi. May I recommend the lounge at the top of the Sheraton? It has a beautiful view of the city at night.”

Laura tapped Jack on the shoulder and said, “Their ride just arrived.”

As Jack and Laura scrambled onto the scooter, Jack pushed the redial button again and heard the busy tone.

“We're on our own,” he shouted to Laura.

Oh, man ...
Laura wrapped one arm around Jack's waist and, with the other, hung on to her conical hat as Jack gunned the gas and the engine roared to life.

Jack used all his concentration to dart amongst the tangle of pedestrians and traffic as he followed the car onto a busy thoroughfare through the heart of Hanoi and an area that did not sleep at night.

He skidded to a sideways stop to avoid hitting a woman who was carrying two large baskets balanced on each end of a pole as she crossed the street. The woman uttered harsh words at them in Vietnamese. Seconds later, he was once more weaving, twisting, and turning until he was in a position to keep only a couple of vehicles between him and the car they were following.

Eventually the car left the crowded streets and entered an area where homes, apartments, and businesses were in darkness. Jack slowed, dropping farther behind ... and the farther behind he was the more tense he felt. It was a delicate balancing act. Too close and you are spotted. Too far and you lose them.

The car's brake lights came on and it slowed to a crawl. Jack looked for a place to turn off, but there was none and he knew he would have to drive past. Just as he neared the car it turned into a narrow lane.

Jack continued past the lane and was about to make a turn to come back when Laura said, “I saw the flash of the brake lights in the lane. They may be stopping.”

Jack parked the scooter and both he and Laura hurried to the entrance to the lane and peeked around the corner. The street was in complete darkness but they could see the silhouette of a car parked halfway down the lane.

“You going to try Sonny again?” whispered Laura.

Jack looked around and did not see any street signs. “Do you know where we are?” he asked.

“Not a clue.”

“Likewise. Come on,” said Jack, shutting off the phone. They entered the lane, slinking close to the buildings as they moved toward the car. When they got close, Jack whispered, “That's the car, but nobody is inside.”

Laura scribbled the car's licence plate on the inside of her forearm. That way, the information was out of sight and perspiration would not make it illegible later.

Jack glanced around and saw several apartment buildings were crammed into the area where the car was parked.

“Not after all this,” lamented Laura. “You don't happen to have a spare street light in your pocket, do you?”

Jack held his breath and listened.
Let me hear a voice ... footsteps ... the sound of a lock ... anything!
His eyes searched the darkness to no avail.

“Let's try the closest apartment building,” whispered Laura. “If we hurry, it might not be too late to hear a door or something.”

They started toward the apartment as the moon appeared
for the first time that night. Jack felt his pulse quicken and he grabbed Laura by the shoulder. “Over there,” he whispered. “Two—no, three people walking.”

Laura looked where Jack pointed. She saw the targets briefly outlined in the moonlight just before they disappeared inside another apartment building.

Jack and Laura followed and entered the dilapidated building. It was five stories high and built of cement blocks that had never been painted, inside or out. They heard the sound of the Fat Man's voice muttering in Russian from the stairwell leading up.

They crept up the stairwell after them. The scrape of the men's shoes echoed on the steps from above. Jack saw that the stairwell was open to the corridors, with only a single overhead light giving a dim glow from the middle of each corridor.