Lost Innocence: The Accused. Part One (10 page)

“
How much do the
guards get paid?”

“
Between four and
eight thousand a month.”

“
So how much should I
give him?”

“
Five thousand. Then
another five next time.”

“
Is that enough?
That’s nothing.”

“
It’s enough in
here.”

“
Where did you find
the last girl you sketched?”

“
At the same bar
where I found all the girls. Her name is Mia.”

“
So it was Mia who
accused you of raping her?”

I nodded.

“
Your mother said she
was a
working girl
.”

“
She was, but I
didn’t touch her.”

“
She said you never
slept with any of the girls, you only sketched them. Is that
right?”

I lowered my
eyes.

“
I wouldn’t blame you
if you did, Mike. There are some real beauties here.”

I nodded my head. “I
thought about it but never did. What can I say - the art took
over.”

“
I can
imagine.”

“
I never raped Mia.
You believe me, right?”

“
Of course I believe
you. I’ve been to the studio and seen what you’ve done. Great work,
but right now I need the name and location of the bar.”

‘
Bald Guard’ leaned
in and rapped his knuckles on the door. I quickly told my
grandfather what he needed to know, then watched as he was escorted
back to what I used to know as freedom.

THIRTEEN

STAN
WAS
lying in bed like a dead cockroach.
His left leg was raised and his right arm was up while a nurse
wearing a tight white uniform and a tantalizing perfume checked his
blood pressure.

“
How are you
feeling?” she asked as she bent over, showing a bright orange bra
stretched over a couple of cupcakes.

“
A little better now,
thanks.”

She finished her
routine, smiled then left. Stan thought of his father. He was
embarrassed at what had happened on his night out, but nobody
needed to know the truth about that. He had to think of a less
incriminating story.

He flicked through
the channels on the small television, but the only English options
were BBC World News or MTV, neither of which grabbed his interest.
He was about to check his email, when a short Thai man wearing
tight trousers strolled in.

“
I think you’ve got
the wrong room.”

‘
Tight Trousers’
stepped out, checked the number on the door and returned, “You Mr
Stan?”

“
Is that for me?”
Stan asked, catching sight of a bulging plastic bag.

“
Have fruit,” the
Thai replied, handing it over.

“
From my
father?”

He nodded as he
watched Stan pull out an apple and take a bite. “…Where is
he?”

“
He at
hotel.”

“
Why doesn’t he
come?”

“
I not
know.”

Stan removed a
magenta-coloured fruit. “What?”

“…
That Thai
fruit.”

Stan held it under
his nose. “And you are?”

“
I am
Pang.”

“
Pang... Sounds more
like a noise effect from the old Batman TV show. How did you get
that name?”

“
My father give
me.”

“
Fair enough. Are you
from the hotel,
Pang
?”

“
No, I am taxi
driver. I work for Mr Nigel.”

Stan lowered his
voice.

“
I see,
but
‘Are you talking to
me?’ ”

Pang didn’t know the
movie quote and stood there with a blank expression.

“
Can you bring me a
DVD player so I can watch some movies? I will pay you for your
trouble.”

“
You want me to buy
you DVD?”

“
Yes. You need
money?”

“
Will look first,
check price, you can pay later.”

“
Can you buy some new
movies in English? And tell my dad to get his arse over
here.”

FOURTEEN

THE BANGKOK
sun had set,
it was seven-thirty in the evening and Nigel was singing a ropey
rendition of ‘New York, New York’ in the shower.

Once dried and
dressed, he slid into a pair of leather loafers and left the hotel.
Pang was leaning on his car, wearing an old blue suit with the
usual tight-fitting trousers. Nigel appreciated the effort but
cringed. He waved him over. “You saw Stan?”

“
Yes I give him
fruit. He ask when you come.”

“
Later. We need to
find this girl.” Nigel showed Pang the picture he had taken at the
studio.

“
That girl from
before?”

“
That’s right, but
first I should tell you why
we need to
find her. Join me for a beer?”

Pang nodded then
followed Nigel into the hotel.

They were sat facing
each other sipping beers at a candle-lit table. It was romantic,
but it wasn’t meant to be. Pang listened as Nigel finished
explaining what had happened to Michael.

“
That’s pretty much
it, Pang. My son Stan came here first, but was hit by a Tic
Tac.”

“
You mean Tuk
Tuk?

“
Whatever, so here I
am.”

“
Should be father
take care.”

“
I know.”

“
Bad things happen
here. Foreigner cheated, they pay, go home sad, but that better
than prison.”

“
I get what you’re
saying Pang, but Michael wants to do this the hard way. I need to
find this girl. Can you help me?”

“
Can, but not easy.
Have many girls in Thai.”

“
I’ve
noticed.”

Nigel paid the bill,
then stepping out onto the street he saw some stray dogs that
looked like they’d crawled to hell and back. He bought a hundred
baht’s worth of cooked pork from a street vendor and laid it out.
They crept over and lapped it up.

Despite having the
name of the bar, Pang still took a while to find it. He finally
pulled up outside a little hostess bar where several girls were
sitting outside in short, sexy dresses. Their focus turned to Nigel
as he climbed out of the car.

“
Welcome, handsome
man,” shouted one. Nigel read the name of the bar: this was where
Michael had found his girls.

It was a seedy place
with a low ceiling and smelt of stale smoke. Scantily-dressed girls
sitting around tables talked, waiting to be picked out by a
stranger.

“
What you want
drink?” a short waitress with a silver ring in her right eyebrow
asked.

“
Does it hurt?” Nigel
asked, pointing at the ring.

“
Only if you pull
it.”

“
We need to speak to
the manager.”

“
Boss called
mamasan,” Pang broke in. “Maybe better I talk to her.”

“
Thank you Pang. You
want a beer?”

“
Does a bear
sit
in woods?”

“
That’s ‘shit’ in the
woods,” Nigel corrected Pang, then smiled at the waitress. “A
couple of Changs please and where is the mama’s boy?”

“
Mamasan,” Pang
corrected Nigel.

The waitress pointed
to a lady standing by the bar. Pang nodded, approached her and
started another long-winded conversation. Nigel followed Pang and
found himself listening, despite not understanding a word. His eyes
wandered around the room taking in the many young, beautiful girls.
At a break in the conversation, the mamasan looked over at Nigel.
“You like come back-room?”

“
You speak
English?”

She nodded. Nigel and
Pang were led to a small room that doubled as a laundry and a
kitchen. There were bed-sheets tied up in balls in one corner and
staff sat eating on a rug. The mamasan pulled out some folded
chairs and offered a seat. Her staff picked up their plates and
hurried out.

‘
Eyebrow Ring’
returned with a couple of beers and handed them over. Nigel thanked
her, took a sip then showed the mamasan a picture of
Mike.

“
You know
him?”

“
Are you his
father?”

He smiled. “No, I’m
his grandfather, Nigel.”

“
Hello Nigel, I am
Mon.”

“
You know my
grandson? You know Michael?”

“
Yes I know. He take
girl, make picture.”

Nigel showed the
picture of the sketch of Mia.

“
This is the last
girl he did. Can I see her?”

She peered at the
picture, “I not know her.”

He looked into her
eyes. “Take another look.”

She looked again.
“Not my girl.”

She began to edge
away as Nigel glanced at Pang then pointed with his eyes at the
door. Pang rose and blocked the exit.

“
What you want? I not
know her.”

“
I know you sent her
home with Michael. You persuaded him to take Mia, didn’t you? She
drugged him then he was arrested the next day for raping her. He
was asked for a hundred thousand. How much of that was your
cut?”

“
I told you I not
know her.”

“
My grandson is
rotting in prison. I want him out. Where is she?”

“
Why he not
pay?”

“
So you do know
her?”

“
Some girls not stay
long time; hard to know.”

“
I bet it
is.”

“
I not know
her.”

“
Think carefully,
Mon.”

He leaned in to break
her, but then tensed up, breathless and red-faced.

“
Are you all right Mr
Nigel?”

Pang rushed over; the
exit was now clear. Mon rose and stepped towards the
door.

“
You will bring Mia
to me,” Nigel wheezed with the little breath he had
left.

“
I don’t know her!”
Mon cried then walked out.

“
What wrong?” Pang
asked.

“
I have a heart
condition. I need to rest.”

“
Where you want to
go?”

“
Back to the hotel.
Help me up and take me to the car. We can try this again
tomorrow.”

FIFTEEN

STAN STIRRED
from his sleep, stretched awkwardly and yawned.
His breakfast tray was on the side table and a quick scan confirmed
what he already knew, mango and sticky rice, again. It may have
been
de rigueur
in these parts, but he would have killed for an English
breakfast. His stomach rumbled and so transferring the tray to his
lap, he began to munch through his breakfast.

Startled by some
heavy footsteps, he glanced over at the door and saw a
rough-looking lady with heavy hips and thick, fat lips. He wasn’t
sure where he’d seen her before, but it seemed that she knew him.
She strode over, clanking her heels, then stopped, towering over
him. “Hello, Daddy.”

The tall figure was
heavily made up with bright red lipstick plastered over rubbery
lips. Horrified, Stan realized who she was and flashed back to that
fateful night near Soi Cowboy. He almost choked on his mango. “What
do you want?”

‘
She’
pulled out a bar bill, handed it over and sat on
the edge of the bed.

“
How did you find
me?”

“
I send you here
after you have accident.”

Stan couldn’t take
his eyes off her huge lips that he’d kissed; the same lips that had
been wrapped tightly around his member. Her hands were huge and her
feet were bigger than his!

“
So I pay you and you
go away?”

“
You pay bar and you
owe me for upstairs.”

“
What’s the
total?”

“
Six thousand
enough.”

Stan frowned, reached
for his wallet and was leafing through some notes when two men
strolled in without knocking. One was his father!

Nigel’s gaze focussed
on the strange looking lady sitting on the bed. Stan ignored ‘her’
and forced a smile for his father. “Hello Dad.’

“
Stanley. Are we
interrupting something?”

Stan glowered at the
lady-boy. “Get out!”

Nigel looked on with
sympathetic eyes as Pang frowned, Stan blushed and the lady-boy
blinked.

“
I come back when you
not busy.” ‘She’ rose from the bed and stepped out. Stan ignored
the noise of her clanking heels. “So dad, how are you?”

“
One sec, Stan.”
Nigel followed ‘her’ out into the hallway. “Excuse me.
Does he owe you money?”