“Let’s call the police,” she suggested. “They’ll rescue her. And now that her parents are safe, he can’t get back at them.”
John paused and looked over at Adriana, considering her idea. After a moment, he pulled a face, shaking his head.
“I saw Hassan the other night, drinking champagne with a senior police officer. I think it’s too risky. Yes, the local guys can get her out, but one call from Hassan to his friend and she will be given back to him. Imagine how her life will be then.”
“But once the police release her from the apartment, we can hide her.”
“Think about it. They will probably take her away for questioning, to find out what happened, so we won’t get to her. If they don’t and release her to us, they’ll want to know who we are, then our names will be on the record for Hassan’s contacts to find. If she disappears, the police will come looking for us. And not just them, Hassan or his trafficking cronies will come after us as well.”
“Do you really think they would worry about us?”
John looked at Adriana, at the beautiful woman he had just found. The woman whose life he wanted to be a part of. He was scared to lose her and wanted to have as little to do with the police as possible. Too many things had happened in his past, and he wanted to remain under the radar as much as possible. Who knew where things could lead once the police started looking at him?
“Adriana, do you really want to take the chance? There is so much money involved in human trafficking. If Hassan is involved, he won’t want to let this go. He will want to set an example. Even if he does nothing himself, if he is as connected with the police as I think he is, do you want the police to start poking around in your life?”
“But I’ve done nothing wrong,” Adriana protested.
“That’s irrelevant. They could trump up charges, you could lose your job.”
“That’s okay. I can get another.”
“What if they cancel your visa? You would have to leave immediately. You could never come back to Thailand, and it will be on your record as having been deported. It could affect you in other countries.”
“Do you really think it would be that bad?” Adriana made a face. “Not all police will be corrupt.”
“No, most won’t be, but we don’t know who we can trust. I really don’t want to take the chance.”
“So, what do we do? Just leave her there?”
John shook his head. “No. I gave her my word. I’ll get her out.”
30
John stood with his hands in his pockets, staring out across the roofs of Thonglor, his mind turning over possibilities. A hand on his shoulder brought him back to the present. He turned and took the proffered mug of coffee from Adriana’s hand.
“I thought this would help you think. It might be a long night.”
John smiled and took a sip.
“You’ve been to his apartment. Describe it to me.”
“Well, based on the size of the living room, it’s huge, must be a few thousand square feet. It’s on the top floor. I only saw the living room though, so I can’t tell you much more.”
“Do you know if it was alarmed?”
“I have no idea, but I doubt it. Most apartments don’t have alarm systems because they have security in the building. There’s a guard at the front gate, and there will be cameras too.”
John nodded.
“Let’s say you get into the building. How will you get into the apartment? It will be locked.”
“I don't know.”
“Do you know how to pick a lock?”
“Nope.”
Adriana moved away and slumped onto the sofa.
“So, we’re stuck then.”
John watched her as he drank his coffee, feeling the hot liquid slide down his throat.
“I think I can get into the building easily enough. As a white guy, if I walk in confidently, most guards won’t stop me. They’re often scared of confrontation, especially if they speak little English.”
“Okay, but you still can’t get into the apartment.”
“No.” John chewed on his lip. “But I might have an idea. It’s the top-floor apartment you said?”
“Yes.”
“Can I use your laptop?”
“Sure.” Adriana stood up, walked into her bedroom, coming out with her laptop. Setting it down on the dining table, she opened the screen and entered her password. John walked over, placed his coffee mug on the table, pulled out a chair, and sat down.
“What is the name of his building?”
“Arunraj Mansion.”
John typed the name into the search bar. He scrolled through the results, then clicked on one of the links. A picture of the building opened on the screen.
“This the one?”
“Yes, that’s it.”
John zoomed into the photo and studied it. It was a twenty-four story building of concrete construction, painted white with large curving balconies wrapped around all sides. From some levels, cascades of red bougainvillea spilled from planter boxes on the balconies and others were filled with ferns and palms. He pointed at the screen.
“So, it will be this apartment here, I assume.” He clicked back on the search results. “There must be a floor plan here somewhere on one of these real estate agent’s websites. Ah, here we go. There’s an apartment to lease.” He clicked on the description and enlarged the floor plan. “Look at this. It’s not the same apartment though. His must take up the whole upper floor.”
Adriana leaned forward and studied the screen over John’s shoulder.
“Yes, his living room is much bigger, and the entrance door is over on this side.”
John sat back in the chair, an idea forming. He looked up at Adriana, a smile on his face.
“What is it?”
“I know how to get in.”
31
“Sawasdee kaa,” the young lady greeted them with a big smile and raised her hands in the traditional wai. John and Adriana smiled back and pressed their hands together in front of their chests, returning the greeting.
“Pleased to meet you, Khun Steven, Khun Mary. First time you come to Bangkok?”
“Yes, our first time.” Adriana tucked her arm inside John’s and pulled him close. “We are excited to move here.”
“Thank you for agreeing to see us at such short notice, we are in a hurry to find something,” said John
“It’s my pleasure,” the young lady smiled. “Please, look at the brochure. This building is very nice. A lot of my clients have rented apartments here. Let me show you inside.”
She led them off the street, nodded at the security guard behind the guardhouse window who buzzed them in, and pushed the door open, waiting for them to follow her through. John angled his face away from the security camera pointed at the entrance and whispered to Adriana. “Keep your face down, away from the cameras.”
Adriana looked at him in surprise, then did as instructed. They followed the estate agent across the lobby and into the waiting lift. Pressing the button for the tenth floor, she stood back and smiled at them.
“There’s gym and pool on the fourth floor, but I’ll show you the apartment first, ka.”
“Okay, thank you,” Adriana smiled at her.
They rode the lift in silence, not wanting to talk too much, then waited as the estate agent searched through a set of keys outside the apartment on the tenth floor. Finding the correct one, she unlocked the door and pushed it wide for them to enter. Adriana walked in while John hung back and took a quick look at the door lock as he walked through. It looked strong, and he didn’t think he could break it. He assumed all the apartments would have the same locks.
The estate agent was already in full sales mode, explaining the layout to Adriana and waving at the view. John followed behind, nodding here and there, pretending to be interested. They walked into the kitchen and looked around, John noting the layout and where the maid’s room was located. Hopefully, the layout of Hassan’s penthouse
kitchen would be similar, but if not, it wouldn’t be a major problem. The main problem would be how to get in. The estate agent led them out and across the living room and into the master bedroom. She pointed out the en-suite and followed as Adriana walked inside to have a look.
John crossed to the French windows that opened out onto the balcony, flicked open the lock, slid the door open, and stepped out. The balcony ran the width of the apartment and wrapped around the corner, giving all the bedrooms and the living room access through their own doors. He leaned over the side and looked up. The balcony layout seemed to be repeated all the way up and down the building. He turned and looked down at the ground. Even on the tenth floor, it was a long way down. He gritted his teeth—maybe his idea wasn’t such a good one. Adriana and the estate agent joined him on the balcony, and he pretended to look out at the view. The sun had set, and the lights of the city spread out before them.
“The view is very nice, ka.” The agent pointed enthusiastically. “I think you will be happy here, Khun Mary.”
“Yes, I think so,” Adriana nodded and smiled back, then turned to John. “What do you think, Steven?”
“Yes, very nice.” He frowned and pulled out his phone, looking at the screen. Looking up, he said, “I’m sorry darling, something has come up. I have to go back to the office. Do you mind seeing the rest of the apartment and the building on your own?”
“Oh, no. Yes, of course. I’ll see you later at the hotel?”
“Yes, I’ll be back as soon as I’m finished.” John turned to the agent. “Khop khun kup. Thank you.” He raised his hands in a wai, gave her a big smile, and walked back into the apartment. Letting himself out the front door, he walked over to the lift and pressed the button, waiting for it to arrive. Stepping inside, he pressed the button for the twenty-fourth floor.
32
John stepped out into the twenty-fourth-floor lobby and looked around. Directly ahead of him was the entrance to Hassan’s apartment. He had called Amira earlier, and she confirmed she hadn’t heard Hassan return and assumed he was still at the restaurant. John walked over and tried the door handle on the faint chance it was left unlocked but was disappointed. He looked under the doormat for a key, but there was nothing. He stood back and examined the door, then ran his fingers along the ledge above the door frame. Still no key. Dammit. He wasn’t looking forward to Plan B.
John turned, looked around for the emergency exit, then walked over and opened the door. He walked through, then climbed the stairs to the roof. Pushing the door bar down, he unlocked it and walked out.
Walking over to the edge of the roof, he looked over, and a wave of vertigo swept over him. He stepped back and grabbed the wall to steady himself. Shit. This wouldn’t be easy. He leaned over again. Fuck! Best not to look down. He had to get on with it. He looked left and right until he located the external service duct containing the water pipes, he had noticed when studying photos of the building earlier. Closing his eyes, he inhaled fully. His pulse was already climbing in anticipation of what he was about to do, and he needed to calm himself. Taking another full breath, he opened his eyes, and stepped forward. Throwing his leg over until he was sitting astride the wall, he reached for the large water pipe which ran down the center of the duct. His heart was hammering away, and he took another couple of deep breaths. Did he really want to do this?
Closing his eyes again, he remembered Amira sobbing in the park. He imagined Hassan beating her and how scared she must be. He had to try. Opening his eyes, he hooked his toe on the bracket holding the water pipe to the wall, tested his weight on it, then swung his other leg over the wall, pulling himself close to the water pipe. The pipe was iron and around eight inches in diameter. He couldn’t get his hands all the way around it, it was too close to the wall, but it gave him a reasonable handhold. The toes of both feet were now resting on the thin metal bracket, and he prayed the bolts attaching it to the wall would hold.
Trying not to look down, he released his right foot and slid it down the pipe feeling for the next bracket. He couldn’t find it, and his left foot started slipping. He gripped hard with his fingers and pulled himself up until both feet were back on the bracket. He had to rethink this. He was breathing hard with tension, and his face was wet with sweat. He released one hand and wiped it on his shirt before doing the same with the other. He didn’t want to, but he had to look down.
Once again, he gripped the pipe tightly, then leaned out a little and looked down through the gap between his arm and his body. He could see the bracket, but it was just out of reach of his leg. Fuck! What could he do? He grimaced. Shit, shit, shit. Okay. Taking a deep breath, he gritted his teeth and slid his right foot off the bracket again. Gripping the pipe with his fingers, he hugged his elbows in until they were squeezing the pipe, then released his left foot and quickly squeezed the pipe with both thighs and the side of his feet. He started sliding, slowly at first, then picked up speed. John closed his eyes, his face screwed up in terror, but he squeezed the pipe with all his might, trying to arrest the slide until bang, his feet hit the next bracket, and his elbows hit the first bracket. The second bracket shifted slightly under his weight, but it held.
John realized he had been holding his breath and expelled the air forcefully before sucking in another full breath. The brackets were about five feet apart, so he figured he would have to slide down once more until he was level with the balcony of Hassan’s apartment. Shit. He had to do it again, there was no other way. He couldn’t go back up. At least this time, he had a bracket he could hang onto with his fingers.
Hooking his fingers over the top of the bracket, he closed his eyes, gripped the pipe with every part of his body he could and released both feet. He knew what would happen this time, but it didn’t make it any easier. Again he slid, but he could control the speed with his hands and arms. However, by the time his arms were at full stretch above him his feet were still nowhere near the next bracket. Shit, he hadn’t thought it through. He would have to release his grip of the bracket and instantly grab the pipe beneath it with his hands. John exhaled repeatedly in short, sharp puffs of air, inhaled fully through his nostrils, hugged the pipe with his knees and thighs, and released his grip on the upper bracket. He slid, his palms now slick with sweat, doing little to arrest his slide. He pressed them against the pipe as hard as he could, increasing the friction until with a thud, his feet hit the bracket below. His left foot slipped off, and John scrabbled to regain his footing, finally making himself somewhat secure.
The second bracket was now at chest height and slowly, one hand at a time, he lowered his arms until he was gripping it with the fingers of both hands. Blinking the sweat from his eyes, he looked to his left. He was almost there. Taking another deep breath, he took his left foot off the bracket and stretched his leg out until it found the top of the balcony railing. He shifted some of his body weight onto it, then reached out with his left arm until his fingers found the corner of the wall and pulled himself over.
He was now spread-eagled across the face of the building, twenty-four floors above the ground, his left foot on the stainless steel railing which ran along the top of the balcony wall while the toes of his right foot were perched on a thin piece of metal. With his left hand, he gripped the corner of the wall as it turned inside the balcony and pulled more of his body weight toward the balcony, took what might be his last breath, then pushed himself off the water pipe with his right hand and foot. His left foot slipped off the railing, and he fell.
33
John gasped for breath, his left leg hooked over the railing as was his left arm. When he fell, he had thrown his arm over the balcony rail, and now hung there, half astride the railing, gripping it for all his might with his left armpit and the inside of his left knee. He closed his eyes—not wanting to remember how high up he was—then gently slid his right hand up until he could grip the railing and pulled himself up and over, collapsing on the floor of the balcony. He lay there panting, shaking with the adren
aline racing through his body, his muscles quivering with the forced exertion. He breathed deeply until the terror he had felt moments ago slowly left his body, replaced by relief, then elation.
He grinned, then chuckled until he laughed out loud. Fuck me! He waited until his breath was almost normal again, then rolled onto his side and pushed himself up. His hands were stinging, the palms scraped and scuffed from the slide down the pipe. Dust and flakes of paint covered his shirt, and he dusted it down, wincing at the tenderness in his palms. He stood, feeling a little shaky on his feet, his inner thighs still quivering from gripping the pipe. He was halfway done. Now, he had to get into the apartment.
John was gambling on one of the glass sliding doors from the apartment to the balcony being left unlocked. He often forgot to lock his, and he was hoping Hassan did the same. He walked along, checking each door and window until he had covered the entire length of the wraparound balcony, stretching the whole two sides of the apartment, but they were all securely fastened. Shit! He would have to break a window. The glass doors were too big and would make too much noise, so he walked along the balcony to find a suitable window, small enough to break easily but large enough for him to get inside.
Next to the sliding doors, into one of the bedrooms, was a set of windows divided into three panels. The middle and top ones could be opened. If he could break the glass of the middle panel, he could reach inside, open it, then climb in. John looked around for something to break the glass. Spotting a fern in a large clay pot, he walked over and picked it up, hefting it in his arms; it was heavy enough. Walking back to the window, he raised it up, then threw it at the windowpane. The glass shattered, and the plant pot flew inside and broke into pieces all over the bedroom floor. John paused and listened, but the noise of the traffic on the street below and the constant hum of air-conditioning compressors seemed to have covered the noise of the breaking glass.
A New Beginning Page 8
