Death Trip (9 page)

Alfie raced back to the flat. It looked as if a tornado had passed through; the place was turned upside down, pictures smashed, sofas slashed, plant pots tipped upside down. Magda stood in the middle of it, holding the dead cat in her arms. She turned as Alfie came in and his heart broke as he looked at her face.

‘I found it nailed to the door. Who would do that?’ She bowed her head and started sobbing.

He stepped over the debris, glass crunching beneath his feet.

‘Come here, Magda. Come.’ He held on to her and the cat.

He could feel her bones. Every time he held her she felt thinner. He didn’t like it. She had never felt small in his arms before. It didn’t feel like his Magda. She was dying and in so much pain; she missed her sons so much, and now she had all of this too. Alfie was so angry he knew that he would happily kill the person who had done it.

‘It’s all right, Magda, these are only things. We can
buy new things. It will give us the chance to get rid of some of this clutter.’

She leaned back to look at Alfie. ‘I can’t find any of my precious things, the mementoes from when the children were small—it’s all gone. They went into the boys’ rooms and wrecked them. They tore Daniel’s surfing posters off the wall. Why did they do that?’

Alfie swallowed hard and held her tightly. She sank into his chest and hid her face as she sobbed. His shirt was soon wet from her tears.

‘You cry as much as you need to, Magda.’ He soothed her and patted her back. ‘We can buy the same poster again. I will put it back as it was.’

‘The poor cat. Jake will be so sad.’

‘We will tell him it stopped coming and we don’t know what happened to it.’

She pulled away and looked at him. ‘We can’t do that, Alfie. I want him to know it never forgot him. I am going to take a photo for Jake. He’ll want proof.’ Magda handed Alfie the cat whilst she went off to look for the radiator sling that Jake had bought for the cat. She returned, picked the cat up and put it in the sling.

‘It just looks as if it’s sleeping now,’ she said as she disappeared again to look for the camera.

Alfie smiled at her. Once she was out of earshot, he phoned in to work.

‘Double the surveillance, but keep it covert—someone broke into the flat. They turned the place upside down but didn’t take things like an expensive camera.’

Magda came back in the room, sniffing and wiping her eyes with her hanky.

‘I tell you how this makes me feel, Alfie.’

Her face was blotchy from crying. Alfie’s heart sank. He didn’t know how much more of this either of them could take. He knew Magda was so afraid of dying, but she didn’t know how terrified he was of losing her. Every day she slipped further from him. He felt powerless.

‘It makes me feel like fighting harder than I ever fought in my life. I am damned if I’m dying till I get my son back and till I put a stop to all this, Alfie. I won’t do it.’

Alfie’s eyes filled with tears for the first time since Daniel’s death.

Magda stared at him. ‘Alfie, I’m sorry. I didn’t realise how much it was all getting to you.’ He put up a hand to stop her.

‘No, Magda, it’s not that. You just made me so happy. I have got my Magda back.’

Sometime after they had eaten, Jake saw headlights on the approach to the farm. Saw stood and watched the jeeps approach. He nodded towards Toad who turned and slipped out of sight. Jake and the others sat blinking in the glare of the headlights. The jeeps came to a stop and cut the engines. Four bodyguards jumped out from the first vehicle and then a short bald man in his early sixties stepped out with a younger man from the second.

‘Welcome, Saw. It’s been a long time.’ The older man spoke. Saw nodded.

‘Welcome, Kasem.’

The whole time Saw’s eyes scanned the newcomers.

‘You remember my son, Tai?’ Kasem gestured towards the younger man who stood beside him grinning, his gold teeth flashing and his slicked black hair shining in the glare of the headlights.

‘Turn off the headlights,’ said Saw.

Kasem nodded towards the bodyguards. They killed the lights and now just the full moon and the firelight illuminated the meeting. The woman and her children
edged away and hid around the side of the house. Saw’s men moved stealthily around in the shadows until they surrounded the newcomers. The four bodyguards formed a ring around Kasem and his son. One of them held a 9mm Sterling sub machine gun, the others semiautomatics. Their weapons shone in the firelight.

‘I have brought the westerners. We have a deal. Now the land is mine.’

‘Let me see them.’

Saw signalled to Handsome to fetch the five. Handsome cut the ties around their feet and pulled them up by their bound wrists. He dragged them over and made them stand in front of Kasem and Tai. Kasem looked them over one by one and Tai stood nodding and grinning as he stared at the girls. He tried to kiss Silke. She squirmed out of his reach. Tai stepped back, laughing.

‘Please excuse my son,’ said Kasem. ‘He is short of company up here in the mountains. But…’ He turned to Saw. ‘The deal has changed. We take the girls in exchange for a shipment of opium. That is all.’

Saw’s eyes were bright and menacing as he answered.

‘You take them all. You give me the land; I can grow my own opium.’

Kasem shrugged. ‘Take it or leave it. The buyers I had lined up for them are no longer interested. They can’t afford to hold on to them until things quieten down. They are not worth anything to me any more. I will take the girls and do you the favour of shooting the boys.’ Tai nodded in agreement with his father as he grinned at Silke and grabbed at her breasts. Jake looked around.
He could still see the knife, its blade just visible behind the cooking pot. He looked back to Saw and the discussions going on. He did not understand their words but he sensed trouble in the air. Saw’s men were becoming jittery. There was movement in the shadows.

Kasem’s bodyguards edged forward.

‘The girls will provide a few weeks’ sport for my men, nothing more. Then I will kill them.’ Kasem turned his head left and right. He too knew the signs.

‘No deal.’ Saw looked across at Handsome. Toad was nowhere to be seen.

‘Then you’ve wasted your journey. That is all I can offer you.’ Kasem held up his hand in a gesture of dismissal and turned back towards the car, anxious to leave.

‘Let’s go,’ he said to Tai.

But Tai was used to getting what he wanted and he didn’t understand why they didn’t just take the girls. He hadn’t the experience of his father. He didn’t know how to judge the situation and he didn’t know Saw. Instead, he glared at his father. Kasem glared back and his tone changed even though he maintained his frozen grin. He edged backwards towards the jeep.

‘Get back in the car.’ There was an understated urgency in it that Tai didn’t pick up on until he saw that the bodyguard with the Sterling was waiting for him to get safely out of the way before he opened fire.

But he waited too long. He never had a chance to hone his intuition skills, Toad had already stabbed him in the back and through the heart.

Mann was waiting at the airport when he got the text from Alfie to tell him about the burglary. Mann was about to phone him back, but he decided to call his mother first. He took a deep breath.

‘I understand that you must feel bitter about things.’

Mann waited on the other end of the line. There was no response.

‘Maybe that’s why you haven’t used the money Deming left you. But I want you to use it now. I want you to give me the money to put up a ransom.’ He could hear the silence and an intake of breath. He waited; she wouldn’t be rushed.

Then, ‘Yes,’ came the answer, strong, decisive. It was as if Mann had offered her some way to move on and to forgive.

‘I’ll see you when I get back, Mum.’

‘Take care of yourself, son.’

Mann phoned Alfie. He filled him in on the burglary.

‘How is Magda?’

‘She is mad, that’s a good thing.’

‘Do you think they got what they wanted, Alfie?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘We can’t afford to wait and see. Let’s make it interesting. Contact Katrien and say you have a chance of getting hold of two million US to put up for their safe return.’

‘Yeah, but we haven’t.’

‘Yes, you have. My mother has put up the money from Deming’s estate. But don’t let’s give it to her on a plate. She has to prove to us she can deliver. I’m still going out there.’

There was a pause; Mann could hear Alfie dragging on a joint. ‘Good. That is a good thing she does. Please thank her from us.’

‘It’s the right thing, Alfie—for everyone. Two million should prove tempting for anyone. Plus it’s enough to make someone careless. Katrien would cut herself into a slice of that, and she’d come out of it looking really good. Now we get to see what kind of a negotiator she really is.’

‘Oh, I already know what kind of negotiator she is. It takes a lot to afford this girl. She does deals with high-earning businessmen. Check this out—the Bitch is either a highly-paid call girl, or a dealer, or both.’

‘Who are her clients?’

‘I am in the process of trying to tap into her emails. She has contacts far afield, they cross many countries. Put it this way, I’ve seen the video footage—she doesn’t have boundaries.’

Jake grabbed the knife from behind the cooking pot and the five ran for the cover of the poppy fields, frantic to get away as the fight turned into a bloodbath and automatic gunfire rattled above their heads, leaving their trace in the night sky just metres away. They used the knife to cut their bonds and then they crawled on their hands and knees across the dried stony earth of the poppy field and headed towards the track at the far side. They crouched in the cover of the poppies.

‘We have to run for it,’ Jake whispered as the gunfire stopped. ‘Head diagonally across to the track and into the woods at the other side. We might have a chance in the dark. Thomas, you go the other side of Lucas, we’ll run together. Anna, hold Silke’s hand. Stay together. Ready?’ They all nodded. ‘GO!’

Lucas staggered to his feet and under the shadow of darkness they galloped and smashed through the poppy heads. Jake looked behind them. He could see the jeeps coming, their headlights searching across the field, heading straight towards them. In the darkness he dropped the knife.

‘Keep running,’ he shouted. The darkness made it impossible to see where the poppy field ended. The yelps and howls of Saw’s men went up around the field. Then, ahead, Jake saw the trees rising black and blocking out the stars.

‘We’re nearly there! Quick!’ They ran on.

The forest was half cleared at its edges: sawn trunks and discarded branches tripped them as they ran. They could hear the sound of Saw’s men howling to each other and the jeeps’ engines chewing up the poppy field. Jake looked across—for a second he couldn’t see Silke, and then he saw Anna helping her up. She had fallen.

‘Run, run…’ Jake shouted across to the girls. Silke looked behind and gave a small cry of fear. Weasel was within ten metres of them. His long legs were flying over the fallen trunks and the sawn stumps, his head held high like a cheetah, intent on its prey.

‘Thomas, take Lucas,’ said Jake. Thomas held on to Lucas. Jake turned back to the girls and he picked up a thick branch. The girls ran past him and he didn’t wait for Weasel to get to him—he sprang at him as he was running full pelt and smashed the wood in to Weasel’s skull. Weasel staggered under the blow and crashed noisily to the ground. Jake threw down the piece of wood and turned to catch up the others but he was blinded by car headlights. The others were on their knees, guns to their heads. Saw was standing over them, laughing. The next thing Jake saw was a flash of light that accompanied the sharp pain in the side of his head as Weasel knocked him out.

Nothing was moving out of Bangkok airport: the place was overrun by anti-government protesters. The prime minister was in hiding up near the old capital of Thailand, Chiang Rai, just a few hours north of Chiang Mai. Mann knew he was likely to remain there for a while until his safety could be guaranteed. The Thai military would have to do their best to see to it that the northern airports remain open the longest.

Mann flew direct to Chiang Mai. For one nasty moment, he was kept waiting for his luggage by airport security and he thought they had discovered his shuriken concealed in the lining of his case. He didn’t dare risk losing his entire armoury to a nervous customs officer so this time he had hidden it. He also didn’t want them to look him up and thus announce that he was coming. He was lucky, it was just a random security check and they let him through without a thorough search. The whole airport had turned into a protest centre with people camping everywhere. Their eyes
were not focused on foreign threats, they were on the brink of civil war.

‘First time in Thailand, sir?’

The taxi driver turned and grinned at Mann. He handed Mann a mock leather folder full of glossy photos: elephant treks, river rafting, snake farms—details of unmissable trips. Mann idly flipped the pages as they drove away from the airport and then set the book down beside him on the battered leather seat of the old Saab.

‘No, it isn’t.’ Mann settled back to survey the scenery. There were no seatbelts but he was used to that. Hong Kong taxis never had them either. Mann would have said that he’d been there before, even if it had been his first time. He’d learned a long time ago never to tell taxi drivers this was your first time anywhere unless you wanted to see how long they could take to drive you the shortest distance and charge you double for it. But he wasn’t lying, in any case. It was seven years since Mann had visited Thailand. Last time he came it was on vacation with Helen. It was there she had cured him of his fear of talking and had undone the legacy of a childhood spent in a boarding school.

‘You here on business, sir? You come far?’

‘Yes, business. I came from Hong Kong.’

‘Ah…Hong Kong…great place, lovely city. No time for relax here, sir, take a trip? Buy umbrella to take home?’

Mann shook his head wordlessly.

‘Please, take a card, sir,’ the taxi driver said when they reached the hotel. He fumbled in the dashboard
and extracted a business card. ‘Maybe you find time for a trip. Relax.’ He turned and presented the card by holding it between the tips of his fingers and giving a small bow as if it were made of gold. Mann thanked him and took it with both hands—just the way he would have done in Hong Kong.

‘See the orchids. Touch the sleeping tigers, I will take you.’

‘I don’t need a trip, but I might need to take a taxi to Mae Sot.’

‘Mae Sot, Tak province, sir?’ He studied Mann in the mirror. ‘Very far, sir, over mountains. Take maybe six hours. I cannot go there. This car is too old for those roads. What you make there? That place not for tourists. Mae Sot very dangerous place right now.’ He looked at Mann; he wasn’t smiling. ‘All bad things come to Mae Sot, sir.’

‘How much would it cost?’ Mann asked but the taxi driver was already out of the car, Mann’s luggage in his hand, bowing low.

‘To get to Mae Sot? Many miles to Mae Sot. Cannot go. Apologies. Mae Sot is not good place for me.’

Mann walked inside the hotel and across the expansive airy foyer, which was decorated with tropical planters and now eerily quiet. He was checked in by three bowing receptionists wearing matching cheongsams, all very eager to make themselves indispensable as they floated gracefully back and forth behind the desk. Nice room, he thought, as he tipped the porter. He left his case locked for now, whilst he studied the five’s itinerary.

The first thing on their list was to meet up with an American, Louis King, the official tour guide:

…
where they will get acquainted with the spiritual aspects of their trip and spend an afternoon at the Enlightenment Centre, meeting the monks and learning about Buddhism, one of the three main religions in the camps.

Mann had already emailed Louis and he was going to be waiting for him inside the yoga centre where he worked.

Mann checked his email. One from Ng updating him on the situation.

Your father seems to have documents scattered all over Hong Kong. He had more than one accountant, and what appears to be several solicitors, still holding personal and business documents. It’s not going to be possible for me to access those, you will have to do that when you come home. I will pursue the Amsterdam connection and hope it will be more transparent. Good luck, Genghis.

He had another from Shrimp to say that he had been on the last flight allowed into Phuket before it was shut down and that he’d get back to Mann in a couple of days once he had the situation sussed. Now the shut-down had begun in the south. They were all marooned until it was settled one way or another. He left his room and went out in search of a tuktuk. He didn’t have to look far, there were several parked at the entrance to the hotel.

‘Drop me off near the temple…and the Enlightenment Centre.’

The tuk-tuk belched smoke and shot off into the traffic. The pollution snatched at the back of Mann’s throat. Tuk-tuks weren’t equipped with suspensions: they bumped and grated and jolted their passengers and the fumes choked them as they sat in the traffic. They were the biggest death traps imaginable. If they were hit it would be like squishing a pea between fingers, but it was the fastest way to get up any alley or down busy main roads and, besides, it provided a few thrills. It wasn’t long before they pulled up at the side of the high wall of the temple.

The tuk-tuk driver dropped him off and Mann walked through the crumbling entrance. Inside the courtyard everything was gold and beautifully ornate. What was referred to as ‘the temple’ was actually three temples of various designs, a small park, and a golden obelisk pointing towards the azure blue sky. At the far end of the park was the Enlightenment Centre where he was due to meet Louis in ten minutes.

Mann stopped outside the first temple and took off his shoes. He placed them on the steps next to a flailing Buddha who was being eaten by a goggleeyed dragon. Mann had been brought up with the teachings of Buddha. His mum was a Catholic, his Dad a Taoist. Often in Hong Kong, Taoist and Buddhist worshipped at the same temple. Sometimes he had accompanied his father to the temple. Mann had never found comfort in religion, though it was a fascinating obsession for others. But he loved the
peace, the tranquillity and the beauty of religious buildings. Ahead, the altar gleamed golden and red and around the walls were carvings and tablets and open, glassless windows. The stone floor was cool underfoot. Mann approached the altar.

An old monk was sitting to his right, his legs tucked beneath him on a bench. He was writing in a notebook. His head was shaved. His orange robes were wrapped around him and caught over one shoulder, then tucked between the legs to give him trousers. He looked up and studied Mann as he entered. The monk remained still as Mann went to the altar and stood in reflective contemplation.

‘What is it you are seeking?’ The monk spoke in good English.

Mann turned towards him and inclined his head in deference as he answered: ‘Five young people came to this temple six weeks ago. They came to learn about Buddhism, to learn about the culture.’

The old monk did not answer for a few minutes; he remained passively staring out and Mann turned back to the opulent altar with its young-faced, slim Buddha smiling almost smugly back at him. Then came the noise of a shower of sticks falling onto the stone floor. Mann turned back to see the monk studying the formation of the fortune sticks that he had dropped.

‘The five volunteers who have been kidnapped?’ the monk asked, as he bent over the sticks to examine them. ‘It was I who taught them about the writings of Lord Buddha, here at the temple. I spent two days with them. They were willing students.’ He looked up and smiled.
‘I learned a lot from them also. I pray for them every day.’

Mann walked over to the monk and sat on the mat beneath the bench. It was customary to keep your head below that of the monk’s out of respect. The old monk was looking at the sticks, lifting them each individually.

‘Did anything happen here that could explain why they were taken from the refugee camp?’ asked Mann.

‘Even before they came here, their fate was decided. Where there is cause there is effect. It is the Buddhist belief. Some bad deeds have been done in the past. Now these young people must pay.’

‘What do you mean?’

The monk opened his palm and showed Mann the sticks. ‘I read it in their fortune. I saw it in their fortune sticks. Bad deeds were done, not in their life but in another’s. Those deeds have come back to be paid now.’

‘What were the deeds?’

He shook his head slowly, deliberately. ‘I know only that they are joined on a path that has no end and it was not of their construction. I knew you were coming, the sticks spoke of it. And now I see them again.’ He looked at the sticks and nodded his head as if he had seen something crystal clear. ‘I see that your death is joined to theirs.’ He looked at Mann and his eyes seemed to stare into Mann’s soul. ‘Where is your faith?’

‘I lost it a long time ago. I trust no man or god. I believe in people and their power to do good if they choose. There is no heaven and no hell, only the mark we choose to leave on others.’

‘Neither fire, nor wind, birth or death can erase our good deeds.’

‘What about bad ones?’

‘Do not dwell on the past; do not dream of the future, concentrate the mind on the present moment. Where the circle begins, so shall it end in the place where all life and death is represented. In the place where men buy and sell each other’s souls. I see you standing in the centre of your circle, surrounded by Death. I see you surrounded by the five young people. If they die, so will you.’