The Solitary Man (9 page)

The stewardesses rattled a trolley down the aisles, handing out 64 STEPHEN LEATHER trays and pouring drinks. Hutch always hated eating on planes. The prearranged trays, the casual service, the steel jugs of coffee all reminded him of prison meals.

He closed his eyes and rested his head on the back of his seat. In his mind he replayed the video that Winter had shown him. His son, the boy he hadn't seen for more than seven years. The last time Hutch had seen him he'd been a babe in arms. If Winter hadn't pointed the boy out, Hutch doubted that he'd have recognised him as his son. Kathy had refused to send him photographs of the boy, hadn't even replied to his letters. For a wild moment Hutch wondered if Winter was lying, if the boy in the video wasn't his son, but just as quickly he realised he was grasping at straws. There was no need for Winter to bluff. It wouldn't have been hard for him to have tracked down Kathy.

The flight to Bangkok took a little over two hours. Winter and the rest of the first and business class passengers were allowed off the plane first, and Hutch didn't see Winter again until they were in the Customs hall. Neither had suitcases, only hand luggage, so they walked out into the arrivals area together. There was a long queue in front of the desk where passengers booked taxis to the city, but Winter ignored it.

A broad-shouldered Thai with a thick gold chain tight around his bull neck stepped out of the crowd, grinning at Winter. They shook hands. The Thai was wearing a solid gold Rolex, studded with diamonds, and several large gold rings. He had a thin scar that ran from the top of his left ear to the side of his nose.

'This is Bird,' said Winter, patting the Thai on the shoulder. 'Bird's on the firm.'

Hutch forced a smile but made no move to shake the Thai's hand.

'Bird's going to look after you,' said Winter. 'He'll take you for a look-see at the prison.'

'Where are you going?' Hutch asked.

'The Oriental,' Winter answered. Hutch had never stayed at the Oriental, but he knew of the hotel. On the banks of the Chao Phraya River, it was consistently voted as the best in the world, with prices to match its exclusive reputation. Whatever Winter was doing these days, he was clearly not short of money.

'What's going on?'

'All in good time, old lad. All in good time.'

Winter walked away. He stopped in front of a white-uniformed driver who was holding a cardboard sign and said something to him. The man smiled and nodded and took Winter's bag from him, leading him to the exit.

Hutch looked at Bird, who grinned and asked, 'First time in Bangkok?'

Hutch shook his head. 'I've been here a few times.'

'Pat Pong, huh? You come for the girls? Thai girls are very pretty.' I 'Where is the prison?'

'On the way to the city. About five miles. The car's this way.'

Bird took Hutch to the multi-storey car park close to the terminal and unlocked the door of a bright orange Ford Capri with a black vinyl roof. Bird saw the look on Hutch's face and mistook it for admiration. 'It's a 1968 two-litre Capri.'

'So I can see. I bet there aren't too many of these around.'

Bird nodded proudly. 'It's a classic'

Hutch tried to suppress a grin. 'Oh yes, Bird. One of a kind.' He expected to see a pair of fluffy white dice hanging from the rear-view mirror but was only mildly relieved to find a garland of white and purple flowers. The dashboard had been lined with fake brown fur and a gold Buddha in a clear plastic case had been glued to the ashtray.

Hutch sat in silence until they were driving along the expressway. 'You work for Billy?' he asked.

'We're partners,' said Bird.

'In crime?'

Bird laughed, a deep-throated roar that almost deafened Hutch. 'Partners in crime,' Bird repeated. 'That's English humour, huh?'

'Yeah. Sort of.' Hutch settled back in his seat. The air conditioning was on full and cold air blew across his face. Hutch had been hoping that Winter was working alone, but if Bird and Winter really were partners, then maybe Bird, too, knew where a football-loving nine-year-old went to school. Hutch was running out of options.

Bird switched on the radio and flicked through the channels until he found one playing a Thai pop song. 'You like?' he asked Hutch, nodding at the speaker.

Hutch shrugged uninterestedly and looked out of the window. He knew nothing about the prisons in Thailand, other than that they were hellish places and that drug smugglers were given as long as fifty years. He wondered why Winter thought that Hutch would be able to get his friend out. It would have made more sense to use someone local. Someone like Bird.

'What's the name of the prison this guy's in?' Hutch asked.

'Klong Prem.'

'Have you been inside?'

Bird grinned. 'Not yet,' he said.

'How many prisoners?'

'Fifteen thousand or so.'

Hutch raised his eyebrows in surprise. 'What sort of security is there?'

Bird pursed his lips as he stared at the road ahead. 'I'm not sure,' he said eventually.

Hutch had expected Winter's partner to be a bit more forthcoming. 'You don't know?'

Bird shrugged noncommittally. 'That's why you're here,' he said.

'Bloody great,' sighed Hutch. 'Haven't you tried bribing one of the guards for a plan of the place?' Another shrug. Hutch shook his head in disbelief.

The Capri hit a traffic jam which seemed to stretch as far as the horizon. Bird resigned himself to a long wait.

Hutch closed his eyes. He was starting to get a headache and he massaged his temples, trying to rub away the pain.

Bird misunderstood the gesture and switched off the radio. 'You want to sleep?' he asked.

Hutch shook his head, his eyes still closed. Sleep was the last thing on his mind. He felt as if he'd boarded a roller coaster and was slowly being dragged up to the first peak, with no way of getting off, no choice other than to hang on and see what the ride held in store for him.

The traffic began to move again. Bird drove off the expressway THE SOLITARY MAN 67 and then made a right turn, heading west, cutting across the railway line that connected the airport to the city. The Capri rattled over the crossing and down a reddish dirt road lined with trees.

'The prison's over there,' said Bird, nodding to their left.

Hutch peered through the window. Through the trees, less than a hundred yards away, was a white-painted wall, and in the distance he could make out an observation turret, four-sided with large windows, topped by a radio mast. There were piles of dirt and stones at the edge of the road as if there was construction work in progress, but there were no labourers around. A driveway led from the dirt road to the main entrance of the prison, marked by a red, gold and blue insignia and four flags atop white poles. Inscribed in gold on a block of granite, underneath some Thai script, was written, in English, 'Klong Prem Central Prison'. Bird pulled hard on the steering wheel and headed towards the prison.

'Whoa!' shouted Hutch. 'What the hell are you doing?'

'It's okay, it's okay,' said Bird. 'Many visitors go to the prison.'

Hutch sank down into his seat. Ahead of them was a guardhouse, but its red and white barrier was raised and the brown-uniformed guard didn't even give them a second look. To the left of the driveway was a white structure that looked like an outside lavatory. Written on the side in large blue letters was 'ATM'.

'Is that a bank machine?' Hutch asked.

Bird nodded. 'Yes, so that visitors can send in money.'

Hutch's jaw dropped. This appeared to be like no other prison he'd ever seen, and he'd been in half a dozen in England. Behind the ATM stood a single-storey modern building with huge glass windows that revealed displays of gleaming furniture. The driveway curved either side of a well-tended circular garden, in the centre of which fluttered a red, white and blue Thai flag from a towering flagpole. There was a car park to the left and Bird brought the Capri to a halt next to a brand new minibus.

Hutch climbed out and wiped his forehead with the sleeve of his shirt. 'That looks like a furniture shop,' he said, nodding at the building.

'It is,' said Bird, locking the car doors. 'They make it in the prison factory.'

Hutch went over to the showroom and peered in through 68 STEPHEN LEATHER the window. There were tables, chairs and cabinets, all of a quality he'd expect to see in a Hong Kong department store. A middle-aged woman appeared out of the shadows inside the store, smiling broadly in anticipation of a potential sale. 'Does everyone work in the prison?' he asked Bird.

Bird shrugged his massive shoulders. 'I think so, but . . .'

'You don't know for sure.'

Bird avoided Hutch's look. Hutch shook his head and went after Bird, who was walking towards the main prison entrance. Two guards were lounging either side of an archway wide enough to admit a double-decker bus. They watched Bird and Hutch uninterestedly, and didn't appear to be carrying weapons. Hutch had the feeling that he could walk straight into the prison, right up to the huge white-painted metal gates that led into the secure area, but he stayed where he was and waited for Bird to join him.

'Visitors go there,' said Bird, pointing ahead. It was the first factual information that he'd supplied, and Hutch pointedly ignored him. This wasn't a briefing, it was a farce.

Hutch looked up at the observation tower. From a distance it had appeared to be glass-sided, but now that he was closer he could see that the windows were also barred, though they were open in places to allow in fresh air. He shielded his eyes with his hands but couldn't see anyone inside. They walked away from the archway, along a dirt road that followed the perimeter wall, though it was separated from it by a line of trees, a strip of ground-hugging < vegetation and an area of bare earth.

On the right-hand side of the road a group of young men in Tshirts, jeans and baseball caps were sitting astride motorcycles, talking and smoking cigarettes. They paid Hutch and Bird as little attention as the guards had. Beyond them was a line of modern houses, painted the same white as the perimeter wall and with grey roofs. Ageing cars were parked outside several of the houses and washing blew on lines. Homes for the prison guards, Hutch guessed.

On the perimeter side of the road, in front of the line of trees that shielded the prison wall, an area had been cordoned off with white railings and inside was a large ornate shrine, bedecked with offerings of fruit and flowers. Two men in tattered white shirts tended bushes around the base of the shrine.

Hutch pretended to watch them, but his eyes roamed over the perimeter wall. It couldn't have been much more than twenty-five feet tall, with suspended wires running a foot or so above the top of it. The wire didn't appear to be electrified, nor was it barbed. Probably an alarm system, nothing more. Midway along the wall was a watchtower, open to the elements but with a circular metal roof held up by three legs. It was unoccupied. Nor did there appear to be any surveillance cameras. If it hadn't been for the sign at the entrance to the compound, Hutch would never have known it was a prison.

The base of the watchtower protruded from the wall and at the bottom of it there was a barred doorway. Hutch couldn't see whether the bars formed a gateway or a permanent barrier. He wished he could have a closer look at the barred doorway, but he doubted that he'd be allowed to walk unhindered across the bare ground to the base of the wall. Hutch shaded his eyes and examined the vegetation.

Something glittered in the sunlight. It wasn't earth, he realised. The wall was surrounded by a moat. 'That's water,' he said to Bird.

Bird nodded. 'It goes around three sides of the prison.'

'How deep is it?'

Bird shrugged carelessly. 'I don't know.'

'Hell, Bird. That's important. Can we wade across or would be have to swim?' Bird shrugged again and looked away. Hutch made a clicking sound with his tongue as he scrutinised the moat. He doubted that it was to stop prisoners escaping. It was far more likely intended to be a barrier to prevent vehicles getting too close to the walls.

Inside the wall was a building, possibly three hundred feet long and at least two storeys high, possibly three. Hutch could see the grey-tiled roof and just over half a floor. All the windows were open and he couldn't see any bars on them. It could have been an administration building, but it appeared to be unoccupied. Next to it was an equally long building, but it was lower, and all he could make out was the top of the roof. What Hutch really needed to make any sense of what he was looking at was an aerial plan of the compound, but he knew that there was no point in asking Bird if 70 STEPHEN LEATHER he had one. From where Hutch was standing, it looked as if the road ran the full length of the wall, and then branched off to the left, following the wall around.

It was too hot to walk, and Hutch's cotton shirt was already drenched with sweat. They went back to the car, past the same two bored guards. Two camera-bedecked tourists, Germans judging by their accents, arrived in a taxi and went over to the furniture store. Hutch guessed that the store, if not the prison itself, was on the tourist trail, which might account for the guards' lack of interest in visitors.

Bird drove slowly down the dirt road. At the far corner of the perimeter wall was a larger watchtower, with a searchlight. It had a similar barred doorway at the bottom. A hatless guard was smoking a cigarette, looking back into the prison. Hutch squinted, trying to see if the guard was armed. Bird groped under his seat and pulled out a pair of green rubber-covered binoculars and handed them to Hutch. Hutch took them gratefully and focused them on the watchtower. The guard wasn't holding a weapon, though that didn't mean he didn't have one close by. Hutch examined the doorway at the base of the watchtower through the binoculars. He could just about make out a lock, though he couldn't see what type it was.

Bird turned left, dropping down into first gear and slowing the Capri to a crawl. The perimeter wall was a different colour, beige rather than white. Ahead of them was a large shed, little more than a metal roof held up by white-painted steel beams which sheltered a line of grey and white coaches. The side windows were covered with thick wire mesh and Hutch realised they must be used for transporting prisoners. There were eight in all, and several other vehicles, mainly jeeps. There appeared to be no one around so Hutch told Bird to stop the car.