Lost Innocence: The Accused. Part One (5 page)

I picked up my bag at
the door, took a taxi and headed to the address Briggs had given
me. I arrived thirty minutes later at an apartment building on
Thong Lor and after showing my ID to a lady with a glass eye, I was
taken to a small room a few floors up that smelt of salty
glue.

Three guys were sat
on a rug smoking and playing cards. They glanced over as I stood
waiting. One had a slight scar along his left cheek, the second had
a silver nose piercing and the third wore shades.

‘
Where Jay?’
‘Scarface’ asked.

‘
He’s sick,’ I
replied.

‘
Scarface’ stood up
and clapped his hands like a boss. ‘Nose-ring’ and ‘Shades’ sprang
up, stepped over and slipped off my shirt. I was standing in the
middle of the room topless, when ‘Scarface’ turned up with a razor
and started shaving my back. The bastard cut me and didn’t even
care. He laughed, dabbed up the blood with a tissue then carried
on.

‘
Nose-ring’ mixed
something in a bowl, which he plastered on my back. ‘Shades’
pressed the package onto my lower-back and ‘Scarface’ taped it on
tightly with thick, silver tape. My shirt was thrown back on and I
was pushed over to the door.

‘
Good luck. ‘If get
caught, not call us.’

The others laughed. I
didn’t. I stepped over to the door and stepped out. Next stop - the
airport.

Arriving, my nerves
were on edge. I had five kilos of heroin strapped tightly to my
back in a country where the death penalty still applied. I checked
in then stepped over to the security check where three staff
followed their routines of passing luggage through a conveyor,
X-raying it then checking passengers for any metals.

I glanced over at a
guy with a spiked hair. He was facing me through a free-standing
metal-detector, tapping a portable device on his thigh – this was
the guy I had to get to past without sounding the alarm.

I crept up to the
first check, emptied my pockets into a plastic container with my
shoes and belt then stumbled to the second detector. I stopped and
stared at ‘Spike.’ He waved me on. I walked through like a zombie
on crack - no alarm. I breathed a sigh of relief, picked up my
things, slipped on my shoes and belt then strolled away.

‘
Mr Lawrence?’ My
name rang loudly in my ear. I turned back to see a senior-looking
police officer standing before me with two policemen by his
side.

‘
Please come with
me,’ he barked.

I was taken to a room
with a table and two chairs. It smelt of wet paint and dust. The
door was locked; I was alone and couldn’t get a signal on my phone.
I sat back gently on a chair and anxiously waited.

A
farang
with dandruff on his
shoulders
entered in a grey suit and
striped tie. He was carrying a brown folder under his arm. He
pulled up a chair, slipped some photos from the folder, spread them
across the table then picked one out. It showed me standing outside
a building with a Thai lady.

‘
What were you doing
at a drug dealer’s?’

He pulled out some
papers and nudged them over to me. ‘I have these to sign. Take a
minute to read them by all means.’

I didn’t look. He
waited, watched then laughed. ‘This loyalty always amazes me….We
know exactly who you are and who you work for. If you sign you get
full immunity. All you need to do is testify against
Briggs.’

He glared into my
eyes. I held my poker face.

‘
I must warn you that
once I leave this building, the deal is off. I have the police
waiting outside. I wonder what they’d find if they searched
you.’

He slipped out a pen
and placed it on the table. I glanced down at the papers - they
were in English. I tried to read the words but couldn’t take them
in.

‘
If you don’t sign,
then you’ll end up in a prison here, for life. That’s if you’re not
given the death penalty. You have a child on the way, don’t
you?’

My stomach turned -
how could he know that?

‘
Are you still
waiting for Briggs to bail you out?’

I held my breath then
eased it out slowly.

‘
It’s not gonna
happen. I promise you that. This is the only deal and
time
is running
out.’

He rose then stepped
out of the room. I stared at the documents, but still didn’t
sign.

Ten minutes later he
returned, glanced down at the un-signed papers and sighed. He
picked up the pen and pointed it towards me. ‘Last chance
John.’

He waited then
withdrew the pen.

‘
Good luck inside,’
he said, then left.

My heart was beating
off the chart as I sat there waiting for Briggs to save me. A few
minutes later, the two policemen from before rushed in with a
photographer. The camera flashed as I was pulled from my chair,
spun around and bent over the table. They lifted up my shirt;
cheered when they saw the package then ripped it off and laughed
liked they’d won the lottery. The senior policeman strolled in, his
officers handed him the package and they all had photographs taken
with it, then pictures of the three of them pointing at
me.

Once they had
finished, the senior policeman took the package, weighed it in his
hand then wandered over to me. ‘Mr Lawrence. You are under arrest
for trafficking a Class A drug.’

I was handcuffed then
marched out past a crowd of people who stared. Then, crammed into a
car with government plates, I was driven to a police station. I was
allowed to make a call. I tried twice. Nui didn’t answer and
neither did Briggs.

When I appeared in
Court, I pleaded guilty and was sentenced to death. His Majesty
commuted that to a term of life imprisonment, and here I am.
I’ve
served over ten years so far. I’ve
never appealed my sentence, called home and apart from the embassy,
nobody knows I’m here.”

John paused as I sat
there transfixed. His story was so vivid that the prison walls had
gently blurred into my peripheral vision, then returned with a jolt
once he had stopped. I had been so deeply engrossed in his past, so
utterly immersed in his world that for a moment nothing else
mattered.

Grateful for the
distraction, I became acutely aware of my own body and noticed
large beads of sweat forming beneath my temples. I wiped my brow
and steadied myself. “Why have you never called your
mum?”

“
I couldn’t put her
through it, and when Nui didn’t answer, I saw it as a sign that I
shouldn’t tell her. I was ashamed of what I had tried to do and I
couldn’t handle her seeing me in here.

“
What happened to her
father?”

“
I don’t know and
I’ve never heard from Briggs.”

I could see the
remorse and pain in his eyes spiking, so I stopped questioning him,
left him alone and tried to settle for the night.

SIX

MY
DREAMS
continued to
taunt me with images of open fields and lush green grass. It
was heavenly, but only added to the trauma each time I woke up.
“Sleep well?” John asked as I came around.

“
No, and my dreams
seem so incredibly real.”

“
I’ve done ten years
and every time I wake up, I forget where I am. You never get used
to that.”

The bell sounded, the
others packed away their things and we were filed out into the
yard. John handed some coupons to a trustee and we were allowed
access to a food-shed.

Grubby-looking cooks
were busy standing over charcoal stoves and fighting over space,
while other inmates lingered around waiting for their breakfast.
John put our order in; it eventually arrived and was just as bad as
what I’d had before.

After breakfast it
was time to wash. We stepped over to the troughs and stripped off
under the sun.

“
Remember, mate. Keep
your movements to a minimum. It will help keep your body
cool.”

“
The water’s filthy,”
I complained.

As I washed, I felt a
warm tingling sensation on my foot. I glanced down, followed a
stream of water to its source - somebody was peeing on me! I gave
him a dirty look, splashed copious amounts of water onto my feet
then shook them dry. I backed away, dressed then caught up with
John.

“
Where do you get
clean clothes?”

“
The lady-boys
control all that. The washing lines are round the back, but watch
that nobody nicks anything. I stand around and wait.”

John glanced up at
the sun. “What I wouldn’t do for a nice cold beer.”

“
We’ll have one on
the outside, one day.”

Once the day grew
tired, we were taken back inside. On the way back to our cell, John
spoke Thai to a passing guard, a coupon changed hands and I was
taken in another direction.

“
What’s going on?’ I
asked.

“
You’re calling home.
You have a chance to get out, you bloody well take it.”

I was marched down
the corridor and shuffled into an abandoned office by a guard with
a bald head. He handed me an old mobile that felt warm and sticky
in my hand. It worked and after three double rings a soft voice
answered, “Hello.”

“
Mum?”

My throat was dry -
my voice was croaky.

“
Why didn’t you call
me on Wednesday?”

“
How are you, Mum?
How’s the weather?”

“
Never mind the
bloody weather. What’s going on? Why didn’t you call?”

“
I’m
sorry.”

“
You sound funny. Is
everything okay?”

“
No Mum, it’s not.
I’m in trouble.”

“
What
happened?”

“
How’s Dad? Is he
there?”

“
No. He’s at
work.”

“
I’ve been
arrested.”

“
Arrested! Arrested
for what?”

“
It doesn’t matter. I
didn’t do it. It’s a scam.”

“
What were you
arrested for?”

“
I didn’t do it,
Mum.”

“
Michael!”

I paused then the
words finally slipped out. “…For beating and raping an underage
girl.”

She didn’t speak. I
could still hear her breathing heavily down the phone.

“
Mum?”

“
Is this a joke? I
don’t get it - it’s not funny.”

“
It’s not a joke
Mum.’

“
You would never do
such a thing. I raised you better than that.”

“
Of course I didn’t
and you know I never lie.”

“
Well then, what
happened?”

Her voice was not her
own - neither was mine. I could sense a high level of anxiety in
her voice and knew it would only get worse if I didn’t explain. So
I told her of how I’d sketched working girls, how one had framed
me, possibly drugged me, and the mess I was in. Then, when I told
her of my decision not
to plead guilty and
not pay what amounted to a bribe, she predictably hit the roof.
“You have to pay!”

“
I have to do what I
feel is right.”

“
This is not right,
Michael.”

“
They can only hold
me for twelve days. Then they have to charge me with a crime or let
me go.”

“
What if they do
charge you?”

“
The evidence they
have is fabricated.”

“
I’m calling your
father. He’ll come over and you do what he tells you, you
hear?”

‘
Bald Guard’ tapped
on his watch.

“
I have to go,
Mum.”

“
Hang in there. Dad’s
coming.”

‘
Bald Guard’ snatched
the phone from my hand and hung it up. As I was escorted back to my
cell, I could still hear her worried voice in my head.

“
Who’d you
speak to?” John asked.

“
My mum.”

“
How was
she?”

“
Shocked, upset I
hadn’t taken the deal.”

“
So your dad will
come and pay you out.”

“
Probably, but I want
to do the twelve days.”

“
He won’t let
you.”

“
I’ll tell him it’s
the right thing to do.”

“
I’m sure he’s not as
stubborn as you. The police captain framed you and put you in here
- let it go. You can’t beat him. You put yourself through all this,
for what?”

“
I need to show him
that he can’t get away with it. He can’t continue this
scam.”

“
Why you?”

“
I don’t know. It
just feels right.”

“
I don’t understand
you. Is this a British thing, something about pride?”

“
It’s a bit of that
and I don’t want anybody back home even thinking I could do such a
thing.”