Death Trip (28 page)

Saw tied a rope around Jake’s neck and pulled him on. Jake’s legs stumbled, weak from the exertion and the beating he had taken from Saw. His head pounded and he could not lift his eyes without his vision splitting. He longed to look back at Anna but he could not. He felt useless. He hadn’t managed to protect Lucas. His best friend was gone, dead, and so were Silke and Thomas. Jake did not understand. Why had he kept him and Anna alive? What did Saw want from them? Wherever they were headed, thought Jake, this was the end of the road.

It was well into the next afternoon when they reached the river. Saw left them hidden in the jungle whilst he sent his men to capture a boat. Saw’s men threw the fisherman overboard, along with his catch, and dragged Jake and Anna on board. They pushed off from the jetty and began their journey to Mae Sot.

Jake watched Saw as he stood at the helm, his eyes always looking, his ears always listening like the animal he was, attuned to the jungle. He watched the flashes of gunfire light up the sky. His men sat pensive, quiet as the water lapped against the side of the boat and
the engine droned. Saw’s men listened to the boom of mortar attacks and the rattle of automatic gunfire and they looked furtively from one another and to Saw.

Anna and Jake glanced at one another and both knew what the other was thinking. For the first time in two weeks, they could hear the sound of someone fighting. It must be on their behalf, they thought, and so maybe there was hope. They smiled at one another. Maybe there was still hope for them.

Brigitte carried on walking all day, pulling down branches from overhead to eat their leaves as she went. Occasionally her trunk came back to investigate Mann. By late afternoon, the sound of fighting drew nearer. The tranquil air was peppered with the rattle and pop of automatic gunfire and the boom of mortars exploding and echoing through the hills. Plumes of smoke rose from the dense teak forests.

‘We are one more day from the river now, my friend.’

Mann looked up through the gaps in the canopy overhead.

‘Why are we headed east?’

‘We must avoid the fighting, we must travel around it. We will hit the river further upstream but it cannot be helped. Mo is busy with the mortars I gave her; we will be caught in it if we are not careful.’

He tapped Brigitte with his cane. She broke into a rolling trot. Mann’s body was still struggling to cope with soaring temperatures and endless muscle pain and fatigue. Now they seemed to be deep into jungle
and far away from the river and Mann felt a sense of foreboding.

‘Do you think it is definitely Mo fighting?’ he asked.

‘Yes. I do. Mo is a brave woman. She is also a fearless fighter. She will seek revenge for her daughter’s death. She will keep Boon Nam busy whilst we try and catch up with the young people. He must be trying to head up to the mountains. He won’t escape Mo, she knows every path in these jungles and her women are fearless. I pity him when they catch him.’

It was late evening when Saw’s boat pulled up alongside the bank, a quarter of a mile before the bridge. In the distance Jake could see the braziers that lined the start of the bridge and the market. He heard the throng of people doing business.

Handsome dragged Anna and Jake along the rough bank as they scrambled up along the edge of the river towards the market. It was eleven p.m., the night just beginning in Mae Sot. The lights of the market reached them as they entered the outskirts of Mae Sot. A few wary eyes watched the troop pass but none stopped their dealings to comment. Mae Sot had seen every type of creature in human form passing through, selling each other’s souls under cover of night. Saw, his wolf-pack and his two white-faced hostages were just a few more.

Magda peeked around the corner of the blind to see who was banging on the door of the PIC. Dorothy was standing outside, looking very upset. Magda let her in and locked the door behind her. Dorothy’s face was flushed with anger.

‘I saw the light on and knew it would be you,’ she blurted. ‘I was looking for you. I want you to come over to the NAP offices. I have something to show you. I cannot believe that Katrien has caused so much misery. It’s all coming out now. We are under an official investigation. It appears that the money from all those people who have been giving so generously over the past two years has been going straight into her own bank account. She’s been buying drugs from her friends in Burma to pass on to all those scumbag dealers here.’ Dorothy suddenly stopped and looked around at the mess all over the floor where Magda had been sorting out the boxes of old papers.

‘Oh God! What has happened here? Another break-in?

‘No, Alfie’s asked me to look into all of Deming’s affairs.
He thinks we have something that they want. Something that is connected to Jake and to Burma. I am trying to find anything that might help.’

Magda looked so exhausted and distraught by it all, Dorothy’s eyes filled with concern.

‘Come on. I’ll help you.’ Dorothy slipped off her jacket and put it over the back of a chair. ‘Bring me the papers; I’ll sit here at the desk.’

‘Do you remember a company called the Golden Orchid?’

Dorothy nodded. ‘Deming got most of his merchandise from there.’

‘What merchandise?’

Dorothy hesitated and then shrugged. ‘I have no doubt that he made his money in a dubious way but the invoices all read the same—locally-sourced artefacts for export.’

‘What did that mean?’

Dorothy sighed. ‘He said it was handicrafts, locally-made toys, souvenirs, jewellery, that kind of thing.’

‘You didn’t believe it?’

‘Yes, to a certain extent, but I only saw a small amount of merchandise arrive. There was a massive difference between the value of that and the amount of cash that Deming always had. He bought this place for you with cash. He bought the flat with cash. Plus, at that time, Amsterdam was full of heroin and Chinese businessmen—the two things went together.’

Magda shook her head and closed her eyes for a few seconds.

‘I can hardly believe how bad this all gets. The more I find out, the less I like the man I thought I loved.’

Dorothy reached over and squeezed Magda’s hand.

‘But the main point of this story is that Deming changed. I always suspected it was after he met you. He gave away a lot of his money to charities like drug rehabilitation units.’

Magda pulled out the photo of Deming with the dark-skinned Asian man.

‘I found this photo amongst the papers. Do you know the man in the picture, Dorothy?’

‘I haven’t seen him for years. He was involved in the Golden Orchid. His name is Gee.’

‘Who was he?’

‘He was an ex-addict that Deming liked. Deming handed over his share of the Golden Orchid to him and helped him with ideas for advancing the handicrafts. He set him up in a shop here. It’s in Chinatown—Gee’s cousins run it.’ ‘So that was the end of Deming’s involvement with the Golden Orchid?’

‘Yes, as far as I know. Of course, he still owned all the land and the buildings that were registered to the company.’ Dorothy paused and looked up at Magda. ‘You do know that, don’t you?’ Magda shook her head. ‘Well, that was one of the last things I did for Deming. I liaised with the solicitor when Deming had the land transferred into the boys’ names. Jake and Johnny Mann must still own all the two thousand acres of land in Burma.’

Mo’s eyes were bright and burning with an unearthly sweat of exhaustion and of satisfaction as she approached Boon Nam. They had fought solidly for twelve hours and now just a handful of Boon Nam’s army remained. She stood over him as she watched him being tied to a tree by Phara and the others.

‘Boon Nam, every soldier deserves to die an honourable death.’ He looked at her in the dusk, his eyes defiant. He was ready for death. She pulled his trousers down and held his penis in her hand and began to work it. Boon Nam became semi-hard. Just at the point that his eyes began to take on a new look, a hopeful look, that, despite the terrible predicament he found himself in, he might just be about to get laid, Mo smiled at him.

‘But you are no soldier; you are a murderer of women and children and a rapist…’ She got her knife and sliced it right through at the base of the shaft. Boon Nam screamed in agony as his body convulsed in pain and shock.

‘Bring me a cooking pot, girls,’ Mo shouted. ‘Meat’s
on the menu tonight.’ She looked him in the eyes. Boon Nam’s face contorted with agony as he fought against the pain. ‘Let your death be without dignity and let your spirit roam forever.’

Shrimp caught a domestic flight up from Phuket to the small airstrip two hours outside Mae Sot. Then he caught a taxi to Mae Sot and checked into Mary’s before walking the few doors up to King’s bar. ‘You have a bag for me?’

Eric was reading a magazine and listening to ‘Stairway to Heaven’ on the juke box. He stopped and looked up as Shrimp approached him. He did not seem fazed by Shrimp’s battered face—a mixture of fresh swellings on old bruises. He studied him and smiled.

‘My name is Li,’ said Shrimp. ‘Johnny Mann left something for me.’

‘Ah yes,’ Eric replied. He disappeared out the back and came back carrying a bag. ‘Your friend said you would come for it and he said you would pay me well for looking after it.’

‘Of course. He is a good judge of character.’ Shrimp smiled to himself. If Eric had known what was in it, he would never have held out for the two hundred US dollars. As he was leaving the bar Eric called after him.

‘Where is your friend?’

Shrimp turned in the doorway.

‘On his way back.’

‘And you, are you staying here long?’

‘Just passing through.’

Eric nodded.

‘The whole world passes through Mae Sot. It is like a Stairway to Heaven is it not?’ he nodded towards the juke box and grinned. The music changed. AC-DC came on. ‘Or maybe it’s a Highway to Hell,’ said Shrimp as he left.

Shrimp went back to Mary’s to wait. He rang Ng.

‘NAP’s prints are all over some big deception cases in Patong. They’ve been making money-brokering deals between local corrupt officials and foreign investors.’

‘Yes. We know. Alfie’s found the evidence in her emails.’

‘Keep it all for me, Ng. I intend to help these people.’

‘I will. Katrien’s been doing the deals and pocketing the money. She’s been using it to bring in large drug shipments. She’s been trying to buy her way into the big league in the world drug trade.’

‘What do you want me to do, now?’

‘We dare not risk Katrien finding out Mann has backup; she may decide it’s not worth the risk of getting caught. Stay where you are till we know what’s happened to Mann.’

‘How was he the last time you spoke?’

Ng paused. ‘He was very sick. If he doesn’t make it, if something has happened to Mann, then we have to hope she will contact you through Magda or Alfie. She is not going to want to say goodbye to that money.
She will want it, whoever she gets it from, and that might well be you.’

‘I’m not giving up on Mann, Ng.’

‘I know, but you might have to.’

Shrimp hung up and texted Mann again

I’m here, Boss. Have the goods, awaiting instructions, Shrimp.

As soon as Alfie got the call from Ng, he went back to the shop in Chinatown. He knew he was out on a limb—he should have applied for a search warrant—but if he did, he knew the shop would be emptied before the warrant was issued. Ng had said there was a link between Deming and the Golden Orchid and Burma. Right now that felt as good a link to getting Jake home as Alfie had had so far. He wasn’t about to let it slip through his fingers.

Alfie went into the shop opposite to watch discreetly. A young designer had taken advantage of the space and low rent; Alfie was standing in the doorway of a young woman’s passion for plastic baby dolls and rubber handbags. He watched the activity opposite. He saw the same man as last time, the owner, hovering just inside the doorway and watching Alfie. Alfie paid for the bag he had bought for Magda and looked tentatively around as he crossed the road. The ache in his side reminded him that he was still strapped up from the wound and the stitches were not due out for a few more days. But the panic he felt in his lungs and his
heart told him he had to risk it—they didn’t have a few more days. They had waited too long to act as it was. At least these people would realise he was a problem that wasn’t going to go away, if nothing else.

As he reached the shop doorway, he flashed the owner a big broad grin and the man nodded, looking puzzled, and stepped aside for Alfie to enter. Inside, there were three men, swarthy, tricky-looking types, sitting on boxes that looked like newly arrived stock. They were drinking small shots of strong coffee. The owner closed the door behind Alfie.

‘This is the policeman I told you about,’ he said. The men stopped drinking coffee and stood up with knives in their hands.

‘She is in so much trouble, and that dirty little receptionist as well. She’s been helping Katrien to cook the books.’ Magda and Dorothy sat in Katrien’s empty NAP office and Dorothy opened a drawer hidden on the underside of the desk. ‘She thinks I don’t know where she hides things but she forgets how long I have been here. This is what I wanted to show you.’ She pulled out a folder about the history of NAP. She turned the plastic sleeves until she found what she was looking for—an article about the missionary couple who had rescued Katrien from Burma when her village had been destroyed.

Magda took the article out and opened it out fully. Dorothy explained.

‘When the couple tried to legally adopt her they ran into problems. She had a relative who wanted her back. The couple insisted that she had been living with them for three years and she should stay. They even went back to Burma to try and sort it out. In the end, the relative was outvoted and the girl was allowed to stay with the missionaries in Amsterdam. But it was the
beginning of the trouble for them. She spent a lot of time out there. I suppose it was only natural…he was her brother. But the story doesn’t end there.’ She dug deeper into the drawer and pulled out a packet of old photos. She handed them to Magda.

These were photos taken when Katrien’s village was destroyed and she was rescued. ‘There she is…see?’ Dorothy pointed to a small child in the arms of her rescuer.

‘I see.’

‘But do you see who’s holding her?’

Magda peered closely and recognised him.

‘It’s Deming.’