Grant sniffed it curiously. He preferred his liquor straight. ‘Knock-out drops?’
‘Tangerine, lemon and grapefruit juices in equal parts with Remy Martin, sugar, bacardi and a dash of Angostura bitters.’ A whiff of scent drifted through the suite and Moogie lifted a fan. ‘I like this smell. We buy it locally. It is made from over thirty different flowers and Tom has a machine to pump it in when we need to honour special guests. It is an old Thai custom.’
‘You think of everything.’ Grant understood very well what Krystelle had been organising and was grateful. The news had made him more uptight that he cared to admit, and for the first time in his life he was being motivated by pure hatred. These two dear old friends were crying out for revenge. And they would get it. But he had now begun to think straight and with Krystelle’s help might manage to stay that way.
‘Moogie was first in the shower,’ said Krystelle. ‘So she sleeps in the centre. It would be a pity, don’t you think, to break up the team at this stage? Anyhow I’m off to powder my nose, as they say in England.’
She left Moogie kneeling beside Grant and the girl’s eyes were dancing. ‘Happy?’
‘And thanks for everything. You helped a lot.’
‘Maybe I can help more.’ Moogie looked very vulnerable and inexperienced. ‘Krystelle says we can go to Nirvanah together any time we want.’
Grant knew that Krystelle would do anything for him, but he must have been more uptight than he had realised for her to arrange this. Yet the girl beside him was also important. ‘You help just by being.’
‘You know what I mean,’ said Moogie. ‘Now be really honest. Do you find me interesting?’
The word made Grant laugh. It was about the most unsuitable she could have chosen.
‘Well! You try always to choose the right word in Thai,’ said Moogie sourly. ‘You don’t even know what chun tong karn long means. Or chun reep ron. My English is good even if I did use the word interesting instead of some other noise. But a simple Thai noise like chun cha klub ma eek means nothing to you.’
‘I’m not clever,’ said Grant. ‘But what did all that mean?’
The girl laughed and joined Krystelle in the nearer bathroom. ‘I want you to try it, but I’m in a hurry and will come back later.’
He was lying on the bed, staring at the ceiling and listening to the girls giggling in the distance when the dogs began to bark outside. He didn’t hear them at first. It came as a surprise to remember that he had told a lie. Perhaps, he thought, as he reached for his clothes, his subconscious had been working overtime. If so, something might be important.
Chapter Five – ‘I could do with thirteen million’
Grant could dress in less than fifty seconds and Krystelle in around thirty. Slacks and light-weight turtle-neck sweaters were normal emergency rig but were still with the rest of their baggage at the Inter-Continental.
Another dog had begun to bark.
But Moogie had returned by a roundabout route and there had been one long pause at a vantage point covering a long straight stretch of road. He was convinced no one could have tailed them back from the Erawan.
‘Junior’s nearly ready.’ Krystelle was wearing her new trouser suit. ‘But what the Hell’s going on out there?’
Grant pulled on his bronze slacks. ‘No idea.’
He had picked up a sound which might have been the shuffle of feet, and a whimper which might have been imagination. But there were no guns or knives and he felt emasculated.
He was gauging the weight of a carved ivory tusk when Moogie joined them. ‘Don’t worry about the dogs. I employ three house-boys, one chauffeur, a cook, two gardeners and some young girls who are very strong. Tom posted them around the house when we returned from the Erawan because Mr. Alvis seemed so sure of himself that I felt we should take precautions.’
She listened intently. ‘Thought I heard the alarm. It is a remple bell tinkling. But since there is no wind it won’t ring unless someone moves it. So it makes for an artistic sort of alarm.’
Both Grant and Krystelle were again feeling like amateurs. ‘Looks like you were wise. Or do the dogs bark very often?’
‘No. And only for strange people.’ Moogie lifted a hand and cocked her head to the side. ‘The bell! Maybe you didn’t hear. But my ears are good since I’m still young. We had better go outside. Oh! I forgot to tell you that Tom’s family are also helping, which means five extra men. They move quietly and are good in the dark.’
Grant and Krystelle were almost speechless. The ‘still young’ had got them both on the raw, but they followed her downstairs where Tom was waiting. He had a bruise over his left cheek and his wrists were splotched with blood, yet his eyes were gentle as he reported in rapid-fire Thai.
‘Two men,’ said Moogie. ‘They were trying to break in using master keys and when Tom’s brother saw them at a side door he let one dog loose. It barked when it saw the men and one panicked. He drew a gun but fortunately one of my own men threw a knife before the dog could get hurt.’ She looked slightly defiant. ‘The light was bad and the gunman was killed. Tom has also said that since knives make no noise the second man became scared when he saw what had happened to his friend, and I am sorry, David, but he too pulled a gun.’
Moogie paused and studied Grant carefully. ‘You are getting angry again. And you have that funny look which might make some people frightened. Try to remember you are not in London or some place where you just call up the police and go all conventional. Honest men don’t break into a house like this or carry guns. So my men were anxious for my safety and got excited. Two threw knives at the same time, so the second man also died and we’ll have to get rid of two bodies before morning.’
‘May we see?’ Grant was fascinated to note that the tiny pulse at the side of her neck had never clocked more than around seventy-four per minute.
‘But we’ll move without lights. There may be someone else in the jungle.’
The two men were lying almost on top of one another. They were very dead and strangers to Grant. ‘Get them inside, Moogie,’ he said at last. ‘Difficult to find clues in the dark but at least we can look around.’
The bodies were laid out in a garage and Krystelle helped Grant to search the clothing while two or three girls moved around with the incredible elegance of the Siamese woman’s carriage, fetching essentials, ordered, it seemed, by the men. Pockets were empty except for a 500 baht note and a bunch of skeleton keys which would, Krystelle felt, have opened almost anything except a combination lock. Clothing tabs showed shirts from Singapore, a jacket cut in London and jeans from Paris.
‘What nationality, do you reckon?’ he said to Krystelle.
‘Dead whites all look much the same to me. Dead blacks too for that part. No idea, man. How ’bout you?’
‘One might be British extraction. Something about the skull and hair style. Difficult to be sure.’
‘Forget it, David,’ said Moogie who was sparking with excitement and wearing a loose house-coat which sagged provocatively as she moved. ‘What should we do?’
‘Burn the clothes. Clean up. Dump the bodies in a klang, sure they go in separately, and at least thirty kilometres apart. We want to keep the opposition guessing.’
‘Know something, David?’ said Krystelle. ‘We both still got a hang up from dysrhythia or something. But how did they get here?’ She turned to Moogie. ‘There’s just got to be tracks, honey. Or maybe a car hidden in the bushes. It would be an idea to start the boys off looking.’
Grant suspected that Tom knew more English than he cared to admit. His eyes had been alert while Krystelle was speaking and he only waited word from his mistress before darting into the darkness outside. The whole area was alive with a silently controlled purposefulness which generated a sense of security. The fingers which were washing dried blood away from the throat of one man seemed never to fumble or waste a movement. Tom’s father had already wrapped the other inside a web of palm leaves which, it itself,
was a work of art. The chauffeur had brought the four-wheel drive Land-Rover to a side door and was checking fuel. Yet everything was happening in almost complete silence, and Moogie seemed to be the most self-possessed of all. Krystelle ushered her back into the house and on to a verandah near the front door. ‘Say, honey. Does nothing worry you?’
Moogie’s eyes glowed like opals in the darkness. ‘I am very frightened and we must make no mistakes. But my boys haven’t been trained for this work and I only have my air pistol. Though I gave guns from the dead men to David. They are Black Hawk .44 special Rugers and he took them up to your room.’
‘No spare ammunition,’ said Grant. ‘Only two slugs in one magazine and three in the other. But one thing bothers me a little, how did Tom get that bruise on his face?’
Moogie studied her fingernails. ‘I wish you wouldn’t ask so many questions, David. But the second man wasn’t dead when Tom ran over to see what had happened. He had to choke him a little to make death come more quickly and the intruder managed to strike him on the face. But it was all over very quickly,’ she said. ‘And Tom was excited. He always gets excited if he thinks I am worried about anything, and he didn’t wait to think that you might like to ask the man questions. If you say anything Tom will lost face and be very sad. So you must thank him and be nice. After all he did very well.’
Grant was never able to explain, even to himself, the effect which Moogie had upon everyone around. Her servants moved like a blue streak when she gave the smallest order. Her ability to bluff and control a situation was almost unique. She could organise her forces with minimal fuss and maximal effect without his being aware of anything going on at all. He guessed that she was at least as ruthless in some matters as he was himself and she had inherited her father’s flair for playing the cards close to her chest. He wanted room to breathe and felt that he would say more than he intended if he didn’t quit. ‘Off upstairs,’ he said abruptly. ‘See you later. Want to think.’
A light flashed in the distance and Moogie held out her hand with unexpected emphasis. ‘Then think later. That light means that Tom’s people have discovered a car.’ She lit a cigarette and slipped it between Grant’s lips. ‘Follow me.’
The night was alive with small sounds, creaking twigs, chattering crickets, and low, whispering, noises as they walked in file along a narrow path between low bushes. Grant knew that at least two young men were following behind and guessed that there was at least one in front. Like Krystelle, he was learning that Moogie’s household had been well trained.
She stopped after about four hundred metres by the edge of a swamp. A Honda motor-cycle lay half buried in long grasses and tracks led across country over a paddy field to a minor road, which, Moogie explained, eventually linked with the through-way to Bangkok.
Two cigarette stubs had been crushed on the ground nearby. The pillion seat was well padded, and from the depth of the tracks the men believed that the Honda had carried two people.
Grant took a note of the number-plate but knew that it was a waste of time. The cycle must have been stolen. It would also have been a waste of time to organise any check for fingerprints, because the dead men had each worn skin-tight gloves. ‘Into one of the klangs along with the dead,’ he suggested, and watched, exasperated, as a procession began to form up along the footpath.
Two of Moogie’s boys squatted near the path when the girls saw that he wanted to linger. ‘Protection,’ said Moogie, and swept back to the house. The night was pleasantly cool and very quiet. He began to slip into gear as facts clicked up from his subconscious and a programme began to make sense. Though the attack still bothered him! All things considered it was reasonable to suppose that the affair fitted into the over-all operation directed against ADSAD. And if there was risk of his visit to Alvis being known, then he, too, might be a target.
And whoever was directing operations wouldn’t wait long for confirmation that the exercise had gone according to plan!
It was a cinch that if a message didn’t reach him soon there would be a follow-up before dawn. Which meant another change of address. And fast! Because even with the two Rugers and Moogie’s air pistols they were still heavily out-gunned.
And why waste time trying to pin-point an unknown enemy in Thailand when dividends should surely come from the city where there wasn’t only a clue, but a name and an address? If Tom’s people had taken prisoners instead of corpses matters might have been different. But now . . . finish Thailand!
His mind was made up, although he knew that the Istanbul address also posed problems. According to Alvis two men had entered the house. One had rushed out and died. The second had disappeared. Nothing had been found in spite of round the clock observation and, later, detailed house search. So there could be only one possible explanation. The police and others had failed to discover a secret entrance. Which meant that the sooner they were in Istanbul the better.
Everything now boiled down into a time and motion exercise.
Phone Mr. Alvis and fix a second visit.
Organise equipment for Istanbul.
Take the first possible flight to Turkey.
And decide, finally, about Moogie. She could pull her weight and expected to be taken along. If she was left behind there would be worry about her safety. Rightly or wrongly she must, by now, have become identified with himself. He had a duty to look after her.
It went without thinking that Krystelle would come as well.
But she didn’t want brother Frank or Harry involved. And on balance neither did he unless a more major emergency broke.
He stretched himself and turned towards the house. Given a thin margin of luck they could be organised and away within twenty minutes.
The truck had gone when he returned, and the girls were on the verandah. He didn’t realise that he had slipped into his parade-ground manner, but his personality had changed and told Krystelle that he meant to have action immediate. ‘We’ll be ready in ten minutes,’ she smiled. ‘But Moogie will put you through to the Erawan first. Right?’
‘And the boys will return to their village. I don’t mind if anyone damages my house a little,’ said Moogie, ‘but nothing must happen to my people.’
‘Then organise it,’ said Grant as he lifted the phone and waited for Alvis.
The old man sounded sleepy but crackled into attention when he got the drift of Grant’s message. ‘So we’ll be with you in about ninety minutes,’ he ended. ‘And watch it, sir. Ring for a bell-hop or somebody and keep him around till we come.’
Grant rated the Super Black Hawk Ruger .44 as one of the finest defensive weapons ever made, but had no suitable holster. He handed one to Krystelle when she joined them carrying the small over-night case, and tucked the other into his belt. Moogie showed them her second air pistol and became unexpectedly subdued. ‘I also brought a small temple bell,’ she said. ‘Your rooms belong to what we call suite Temple Bells, because a collection hangs outside and tinkles when there is wind. You didn’t hear them make music because the air has been so still. But maybe another time, and anyhow I would like to take one with us as a good luck charm.’
Grant forced himself to be enthusiastic even if he was still counting seconds. ‘A lovely idea. And I like the name. Suite . . . Temple Bells sounds great.’ He lifted the little bell and listened to the faint, pure, sound with which he had become familiar across Asia from Cambodia to Nepal. ‘Lovely, honey. Really lovely.’
She looked at him very seriously. ‘Please keep it, David. It is wishing you good luck. Wishing us all good luck.’ She chatted for a moment to Tom and then swung out into the darkness. The car was ticking over and ready to go.
Neither Grant nor Krystelle have yet forgotten that evening. Moogie drove the car, forcing suspension to the limit as she thrust over twisted tracks and footpaths across a series of paddy fields. The tracks were usually built up on low dykes little more than the width of the track but well above the level of water gleaming around young rice plants. Twice
they almost collided with a sleepy water buffalo and in one village a dog running round in circles with, Grant suspected, an’ acute rabies, missed death by an inch. She had opted to swing across country to join a different road from that which people normally used going to her house and she did so knowing that they would clock an extra seven miles. But it was less dangerous . . . if there was any danger.
They reached Bangkok in just under two hours from Grant’s having made the phone call and found John Alvis in his suite. He was nursing a .357 Smith and Wesson Combat Magnum and smoking his beloved Larranaga Corona. ‘The whole team!’ He smiled. ‘And probably just as well. But tell me exactly what gives. I was only able to appreciate that you hit trouble and felt I ought to have a gun around.’
‘Moogie’s story,’ said Grant. ‘Since she’s going to be in the team, for this exercise at least, I’d like to hear how she gives reports.’
‘You wish me to speak?’
‘To tell the story, Moogie. And I mean the whole story.’
‘Then I shall sit down. Or had you forgotten that there are chairs?’ She used a basic type of English which matched her short, crisp, sentences and didn’t miss a trick. ‘I am only sorry that my men killed,’ she ended. ‘They didn’t realise the importance of asking questions first.’
‘A-plus,’ said Alvis. ‘Anything to add, David?’
‘Only that I aim to fly out tomorrow. Or today, rather. Turkey has become a priority.’
‘Well, I must add something,’ said Alvis, hesitating. ‘I could have told you earlier this evening but I didn’t want to break the news in case it distracted your attention. And you’ll hear about it pretty soon anyhow. But I figure you should make a will. Fast. Because for sure you are on the list for elimination and the other side seem to have first-hand advice about your movements. And now the way I look at it is this. If they know about your movements they probably know other things as well. So I got no alternative but to wise you up, because that will is important.
Paradise Spells Danger Page 8
