Sold into Slavery (12 page)

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Authors: Claire Thompson

BOOK: Sold into Slavery
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Devin made his way to the bar at the back of the room. The bartender was Thai, with longish, greasy hair slicked back from his face. Devin ordered a beer. As the bartender set it before him, Devin put some baht on the bar. “Keep the change.”

Palming the money, the bartender asked, “You want lap dance?” He pointed toward the section of the room that contained freestanding tables, a few of which were occupied by men with naked or nearly naked women sitting on their laps. “You pay me. Girls get the tips.”

“Actually, I’m looking for a particular girl. Her name is Jaidee. She goes by the name of Lotus Flower.” Jaidee was his best hope for pinpointing the actual location of the compound. Assuming Leah was even there. Devin knew his theory was crammed with way too many assumptions, but what else did he have to go on?

The bartender eyed Devin suspiciously. “No Lotus Flower here. You want lap dance? I got lots of girls, best in Pattaya.”

“I’m looking for Jaidee. I just want to talk to her.”

The bartender shook his head. “She no here. No more. I got better girls. Much prettier girls.” He cupped his hands at his chest to indicate gargantuan breasts. “My girls know what a man wants.” He winked.

Devin put his hands on the bar, leaning forward. “I don’t want a lap dance. I’m looking for Jaidee Anantasu.”

“I tell you. She no here.” The bartender started to turn away, a scowl on his face.

Devin reached again into his pocket, withdrawing a wad of baht, which he slapped onto the bar. Forcing himself to speak politely, he said, “Perhaps you have some information that would help me track her down. I would greatly appreciate it.”

The bartender turned slowly back, his eyes on the money. “She quit two months ago. How I know where she go? I don’t own these girls.” He placed his hand over the money and looked at Devin, the scowl now replaced with a smile.

“Maybe you could give it some thought. It’s a matter of the utmost importance. Any help you can offer would be most appreciated.” Devin waited. The man, his hand still on the money, regarded Devin with raised eyebrows.

“I think I might remember,” he said slowly. “It’s been a while though.”

“Perhaps I can help jog your memory.” Devin slid another packet of Thai money across the bar, praying the man had the information he was desperately seeking.

The bartender put his other hand over the second pile of cash and slid both from the bar. “I have maybe something. No promises.” He moved toward the cash register. Reaching beneath the counter, he pulled out what looked like a small, black leather address book, stuffed with loose pieces of paper. Opening it on the counter, he riffled through the pages until he found what he was looking for. Taking one of the scraps of paper, he pulled a plastic pen from his shirt pocket, crossed out whatever was on the scrap and scribbled something beneath it.

Looking at Devin, he slid the piece of paper across the bar. “Last I hear, she at The Blue Dream. Vastly inferior club, over on Second Road. My girls better. You stay for lap dance, eh? No charge.”

“Another time.” Devin took the scrap of paper on which the bartender had written the address of the rival club, clutching it like a lifeline.

~*~

Devin felt as if he were in a kind of surreal nightmare, with this scantily clad girl wiggling on his lap while Leah might already be dead. He’d been at The Blue Dream
for nearly an hour waiting for his turn with Jaidee, who was apparently quite popular.

It was awkward trying to interview the girl from this position, but she’d refused to sit at the table, darting glances in the direction of the bartender, whom Devin suspected was also her pimp. “I dance for you, yes? Make you happy.”

She was a pretty girl, with high cheekbones, large, dark almond-shaped eyes and a pouty little mouth. Devin had been trying for ten minutes to tease any information out of her about her abduction experience, but she either didn’t understand or refused to discuss it. Finally she put a long-nailed finger over his lips. “You want talk, we go to back room for naughty play. Fifteen hundred baht, cheap! I talk dirty to you, yes? You like that?”

She placed a small hand over Devin’s crotch. Devin stood, lifting the girl in the process and setting her on her feet. “Okay, fine. Let’s go to a back room.” He tried to keep the frustration from his voice, aware she was only doing her job.

With a wide smile and another surreptitious glance at the bartender, Jaidee held her hand out to Devin, who took it. She led him through a door that opened onto a narrow hallway with doors along one wall, each painted a different color. She stopped in front of the red door. The small room was decorated rather as Devin had expected, most of the space taken up by a bed, the lamp beside it covered with a red lampshade that cast the room in a pinkish glow. There was a small, rickety looking bureau, over which hung a large mirror that faced the bed.

The girl stood smiling politely, her head tilted as she regarded him. “You please to put the cash there.” She pointed to the bureau. Devin pulled out his wallet, thinking briefly how much he’d spent so far in what he prayed wasn’t a fool’s errand. He set the bills on the bureau.

Devin sat on the bed, suddenly realizing how exhausted he was. He ran his hands through his hair and over his face. His eyes felt gritty and he wanted to take a hot shower and climb into bed, but he knew he wouldn’t rest until he’d found Leah.

Jaidee slid the spaghetti straps of her flimsy sundress from her shoulders. “No, that’s okay,” Devin said, holding out a hand with its palm toward her. “I told you before—I just want to talk to you. I need some information.”

Jaidee moved close to him. She smelled of sweat and cheap perfume. “You want I talk dirty to get you in the mood? Tell you the naughty things I will do to you? Yes, yes. I understand.” She shimmied the slinky dress from her slender body and cupped her small breasts in her hands, leaning forward in what she must have thought was a provocative pose. She looked so young, with her narrow hips and tiny breasts, though Devin realized she was probably older than she appeared. Watching her, he felt more embarrassed than attracted.

“Please,” he tried again, making his tone firm. “Put your dress back on, Jaidee.” He pointed to the dress puddled on the floor, waiting until she bent down to retrieve it. Reluctantly she pulled it over her head, her mouth turned down in a pout.

She crossed her arms, the pout edging into a worried glare. “No money back. You come in room, you pay. End of story, Mister.”

“Absolutely. I understand, Jaidee. The money is yours. And a nice tip, too, if you can help me with what I need. Please,” he tried again, patting the bed beside him. “Come sit down. I want to ask you some questions. I’m trying to find someone. Someone very close to me. You might be able to help me. Please, Jaidee, I need your help.”

Jaidee looked incredulous. “You don’t want naughty play?” Again her small mouth turned into a downward pout and she put her hands on her hips. “My tits not big enough for American man?”

Devin shook his head, a small, exasperated laugh erupting from his lips. “I’m British, not American. And believe me, you’re lovely, Jaidee. If I wanted naughty play, you would be the one I chose. But what I need from you now is your help. A woman’s life may well hang in the balance.”

Looking somewhat mollified, Jaidee finally came to sit beside him on the bed. Satisfied he had her full attention at last, Devin said, “I’m looking for a woman I believe has been abducted.” When the girl looked blank, he added, “kidnapped, taken by bad men.”

Jaidee’s eyes widened and she nodded, though her face had become guarded. Determined, Devin continued, “I know from my investigations you were taken by bad men last year—taken to a place where this woman might be now. I need to know anything you can tell me about it.”

Turning away from Devin, Jaidee wrapped her thin arms around her torso and leaned forward, her hair falling in a dark, shiny curtain over her face. “Please,” Devin said quietly, putting a hand on her shoulder.

When Jaidee looked back at him, all trace of coquettishness was gone and she suddenly looked her age, which he guessed was closer to thirty than twenty. “I was lucky I get free,” she said. “I have friends, men who take care of me. They get me out.”

Devin wondered just how well these men “took care” of Jaidee, putting her to work as a prostitute, but of course he said nothing, waiting for her to continue. Jaidee shook her hair back, meeting his eye. “I no want to talk on this. Bad luck.”

He tried to keep his voice calm, though he wanted to shake her. “I understand, Jaidee. It must be hard to talk about. But I need to find the place. It will be very bad luck for my friend if I don’t find her.”

Reaching again for his wallet, he withdrew more bills, placing them on Jaidee’s thigh. As she put her hand over the money, he said, “I need you to tell me any details you can remember. Something particular or unusual about where you were kept that might help me pinpoint the location.”

The girl sucked on her finger and regarded the ceiling. “Big rooms. Very fancy. Like a palace. I not there long. Lucky me, I not what the big man looking for.” She grimaced. “They take me away, make me lie down in back, my eyes covered with cloth. But they don’t do the cloth tight. I could see little bit from underneath, like so.” Jaidee demonstrated, tilting her chin upward and looking down her nose. “I saw the ocean. And I saw white horses, so pretty.”

“Horses?” Devin grabbed onto the words, something triggering in his memory.

“How you say—statues? They were very beautiful, made all in stone. White stone.”

Excitement gripped Devin as he thought back over the photos of the various locations George had collected in his investigation. What were the odds there was more than one wild horse sculpture garden along the Thai coast? Devin’s heart began to thud. Finally something concrete to hold onto.

Had George known what he had? Devin recalled the investigator’s comment:
I got really close, but I got shut down by officials who didn’t want me to succeed for reasons of their own.
And if Jaidee had been able to identify the location, didn’t that put her in danger as well, as someone who knew too much?

“Jaidee, did you tell anyone else about the horses?”

The girl shook her head.

“Why not?”

Jaidee shrugged. “No one ask.”

Chapter 9

 

“Devin, my boy. I thought you were in Thailand. Is everything okay?”

“I am in Thailand. And no, everything’s not okay. That’s why I’m calling. I need your help.”

Uncle Ron had been more like a father than an uncle to Devin, stepping in to help Devin’s mother after his father had been killed in a car accident when Devin was twelve. Devin sorely hoped his uncle could help now. He was Sir Ronald Lyons, Superintendent at Scotland Yard, with extensive experience in Asian affairs and ties to Interpol, the international police.

Devin began to pour out the story, trying to keep his voice steady as he related the events that had unfolded over the past couple of days.

“What time is it there? It’s late, no?” Uncle Ron asked.

“A little after midnight. I just came from a club where I spoke with a Thai woman who was taken briefly to the compound where I think Leah might be.” He filled in his uncle on the details of his talk with Jaidee.

“Where are you calling from now?” There was an urgency to Uncle Ron’s tone that unsettled Devin.

“I’m on my mobile. I’m back at my hotel.”

“Okay, good. Don’t use any landlines, and don’t talk about this to any of the local authorities. Who have you gone to so far besides this PI of yours?”

“I went to the police when Leah first went missing yesterday evening, but they wouldn’t do anything about it. The concierge at the hotel claimed she checked out and went on to Bangkok, but I know he’s lying. He’s got to be in on whatever is going on. She’s not the first to disappear—”

“Hold on, will you? I need to look something up. I have to boot my computer.” Devin, who had been pacing the room, went over to the bed and sat down heavily. Every muscle and bone in his body ached, but at the same time he felt hopeful. His uncle hadn't dismissed his story, but seemed to be taking it seriously—very seriously.

After a few minutes, Uncle Ron was back on the line. “Devin, listen to me. It’s worse than I feared. You’ve stumbled into something quite dangerous. Interpol is working with the Royal Thai Police. They’ve created a special task force and they’re getting close to a bust. You need to be very careful. They’re aware that an American citizen was recently reported missing. But this is bigger than just some American woman being abducted.”

“It’s not just some woman, Uncle Ron. She’s—I’m—we—“ Though he was alone in the room, Devin felt his face heating.

“You’ve got it bad, huh?” His uncle laughed and Devin could almost see his craggy, kind face. The laughter eased the tight knot in Devin’s stomach, just a little.

“Yeah,” he admitted. “I never believed in that love at first sight nonsense but—” 

“Why ever not?” his uncle interrupted. “When I first saw your Aunt Mirabel my freshman year at Oxford, sitting pretty as you please beneath that old oak tree near the commons, it was all over. Here we are forty-two years later, and I’ve never looked back.”

Devin smiled in spite of himself, having heard the story of his aunt and uncle’s first meeting a dozen times over the years. The fact that Aunt Mirabel had been engaged at the time to another man hadn’t fazed Uncle Ron in the slightest.

Recalling himself, Devin persisted. “I need your help, Uncle Ron. I need to be a part of this. I have to find Leah.”

“Understood. Fax me those files you obtained, and the photos of the property. I’ll coordinate with my contacts at Interpol and see if they can’t use you somehow. Your position with the estate agency might provide just the cover they need to gain access. But Devin, we’re not going to get much done until the sun comes up over there. It’s six o’clock in the evening here, but I’ll see what I can find out on this end, and give you a call first thing in the morning, Thai time. Meanwhile, get some rest, will you? You sound beat.”

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