Chapter 10
After two weeks, Isaac and Bikie, having collected an ocean of information and analyzed it forwards, backwards and sideways, were still stuck right where they had started. They still have not come up with any theory concerning Link’s whereabouts.
They discussed and argued, trying to persuade each other, but in fact did not make any progress.
Isaac looked at the data they had and summed things up.
“So, our old boy didn’t take many holidays and he loved islands. He was quite fond of Thailand, Corsica and Sardinia, and he had been to China. He visited America too, but mostly on business, for holidays he usually chose the Mediterranean islands. Sometimes he went just for a weekend, sometimes staying longer and, interestingly, often called a Dutch escort service before setting off. Well yes, sitting in the lab for hours on end does make it pretty hard to find a female companion. The rest is general information: date of birth, education – nothing that gives us any insight.”
“Isaac, why are we trying to find him in the first place? Putting in so much effort? Maybe we ought to try studying the actual technology?”
“Intuition, Bikie. If we find him, maybe we’ll find both our question and answer at the same time. In theory, the man who created it can destroy it too. Lots of people who’ve tried to produce the technology have got nowhere and we want to break it. What if we cause some disaster? It’s dangerous. Better let Link stop it when we find him.”
“If he can, and if he wants to…”
“We’ll make him. I’m sure he knows a couple of secrets how to persuade people from downloading.”
“What if he’s a big fan of his eyecandy?”
“Stop cooking Link before catching him. We’ll work it out. By the way, what about the woman he loves? If he’s alive, she’s probably somewhere close by. Analyze her data. Maybe it’s not so secret, and anyway women don’t worry as much about security, or rather, they’re not as careful as a paranoid scientist. If she’s not from scientific environment, she could easily have left tracks.”
“Well that would be a good idea, except that I haven’t really found any personal connections for Link.”
“And what about that escort service? Why don’t you think he could have called and dated the same woman all the time?”
This secret side of Link’s life could turn up some leads. Only they had to take into account that such a service probably didn’t have permanent sites or a permanent telephone number. But they didn’t have anything else, and Bikie started on the analysis.
A few hours later Isaac looked in on his friend, and from Bikie’s excited appearance, he realized they finally had some kind of lead! “I think I know where our pal weaves his nest from time to time.” Bikie was really excited, and Isaac realized he was about to deliver some kind of bombshell. “Every time after he called the agency from this number, there was another call, to a mobile or landline number. The mobile number’s been out of use for a long time, unfortunately, but I wouldn’t have spent much time on it anyway because I came across something more interesting. The landline number is in Amsterdam, it’s listed to an apartment at an address that came up once at the immigration office. So, according to the report on this address, two girls lived there. A certain Yoshi Kato and a certain Hiro Okamoto. So our man was not only fond of his laboratory flasks, he liked a touch of Japanese flavor.”
“Right…”
“After that I came across Yoshi Kato several times.”
“But Hiro not once, apparently,” Isaac guessed with a smile.
“Bull’s-eye! Well done, kiddo, you catch on quick.”
“And I’d even venture a guess that you’ve already gathered the info on Yoshi.”
“Bull’s-eye again!”
“And you’ve found…”
“So far shit-all,” Bikie replied vulgarly. “Apart from the fact that she has a residence permit in England! But hang on; I haven’t been digging for long.”
“Well now, Amsterdam is not Tokyo, we can make an on-site inspection. Link had a cozy set-up, a one-hour flight and no prying eyes. I think I’ll take a flight over there,” Isaac summed up.
Thank God prostitution in Holland was legal, so they had a fair chance of finding the Japanese girl or her friend. Even though Bikie was working away tirelessly and the search for information needed to be continued, it was impossible to stop him from taking a trip to Amsterdam.
“You know that we haven’t got any money to spare, don’t you? I’ll manage on my own,” Isaac assured him.
“I agree to a hotel with a half of a star, I even agree to sleep with you in the same bed, I will not eat or drink, but I’m definitely going to Amsterdam, that’s non-negotiable… Oh, and I’m taking back my vow not to drink.”
Realizing that resistance was futile, Isaac called Peter and warned him they would be going to Amsterdam. Peter laughed and asked on what dates they would be away.
From Monaco to Amsterdam is fifteen hundred kilometers. After a small argument with Bikie, who, having won himself a trip, promptly suggested going on his Harley, the alternative of going by plane won out. Neither a car nor a motorbike was convenient in Amsterdam.
Isaac bought the very cheapest tickets and found a budget apartment with two beds through a mobile phone app.
Bikie was so excited he wouldn’t let Isaac sleep until three in the morning. Although they didn’t really need to discuss their plan further, they talked it through briefly. They would contact the escort agency – there probably weren’t many good ones, and they could not believe that Link had used a cheap one. They would try to find both the Japanese women there.
Assuming that Yoshi had disappeared together with Link, finding her would be no easier than finding the professor. But the other woman, Hiro Okamoto had no reason to hide. They would find her and see where the threads led to from there. Bikie had easily figured out the old address of the two girls’ apartment from the telephone number. The rest they would sort out on the spot.
Amsterdam. Dozens of canals divide the city up into a host of little islands, connected by hundreds of bridges of vastly different kinds. The main, and the most famous canal, is Amstel. Amsterdam is also the city of tulips, but by no means their native land. The flower originally came from the mountains of Asia. The Greeks and the Persians loved them. And there was a “Tulip Era” in Turkey too. It was from there that the Austrian ambassador brought back a few bulbs and presented them to a local professor of botany: they were stolen from him and brought to Amsterdam. Isaac recalled the story of the famous tulip boom that followed these events. At that time you could get a good house for the bulb of a beautiful tulip. Prices soared sky-high and everyone speculated in the bulbs – from bankers to ordinary housewives. Of course, in the end the bubble burst, dragging a whole bunch of people down to financial ruin. Also the boom of Einsteiner popularity will probably fail.
This was the world’s capital of freedom. Hordes of people once used to come here for a weekend to have a good time. There was everything here: the red-light district, loads of clubs and bars, coffee shops. Nowadays they still came here to smoke grass and have fun, although vast crowds were a thing of the past. Isaac had been to Amsterdam three times but his most vivid memory was the King’s Day in the end of April. The streets were transformed into torrents of orange – every single last person was dressed in the national color to honor of the festival. It seemed as if all of Holland had gathered in the streets of the capital. On the canals there were so many boats, large and small, and rafts, that you couldn’t even see the water. And so many people crowded onto the boats, you couldn’t tell where the pavement ended and the water began. Everyone was singing, drinking and dancing. One of the best days in Isaac’s past. He smiled at his pleasant memories as the plane made its approach for landing.
They decided to save on a taxi and took an express train. Half an hour later they were standing in the central station. Bikie was amazed by the size of the bicycle park. There were thousands of bicycle
s, if not tens of thousands, in a three story building. Bikes could be hired for peanuts, but the friends set off for the Old City on foot. Their apartment was conveniently located in the attic of an old house: there was no lift, but that was no problem. On the other hand, bustling, noisy Rembrandtplein was only a stone’s throw away, and they could see a canal with a drawbridge that connected with the Amstel.
“Isaac, let’s have lunch first, the escort agency probably isn’t open so early. I’m sure the girls are still asleep after their working day, or rather night.”
“Okay, let’s do lunch. That smell of pizza is making my stomach rumble. You don’t mind a piece of Italy?”
“I’m all for it,” Bikie answered, stroking his large belly.
In an attempt to justify his presence in Amsterdam, Bikie had prepared very thoroughly. He had studied the five most visited escort agency sites. Only two of them had Asian girls and only one had Japanese girls. He also already knew the location of the apartment where the phone number he’d found was registered.
“The phone number I dug up doesn’t match any of the agencies. It’s been changed since then but one of the sites said the agency has been in business for twenty-five years. I think that’s the one we want.”
Isaac’s call was answered almost immediately by an extremely jolly voice.
“Decided to spend a pleasant evening?” the man’s voice asked jauntily in English with an accent.
“Yes, thank you, but I have specific requests,” said Isaac, feeling a bit awkward.
“Well, bear in mind that our prices are significantly higher than in the red light district. And specific requests will cost even more.”
“No, no, I don’t mean that. I’m interested in oriental girls.”
“Well that can easily be arranged.”
“Not just any, but Japanese girls. That’s essential for me.”
“We don’t have Japanese girls. Only Thai and Chinese, and a Filipino girl. There’s a young Russian with slanting eyes, very beautiful.”
“No, only Japanese girls. And you know, a bit older. Over thirty if possible.”
“Listen, this isn’t a supermarket, we don’t have that kind of choice, but you won’t regret it if you choose a Chinese girl, we do have one a bit older, if you like. A very sexy and exotic woman.”
“I want a Japanese woman,” Isaac insisted.
“Are you a Japanophile or what? Or Japanese yourself?”
“No, I’m a European. It’s just that I was here a few years ago. And I was with this girl. I want to see her again.”
“Sorry, lad, I’ve never had any Japanese girls here. If you want someone else, call us…” – the dial tone sounded in Isaac’s ear.
“No luck,” said Isaac, turning to Bikie. “I’ll take a breather and call the other number.”
“Hello,” Isaac heard the same familiar voice say.
“Uhmm, this is me again…” Isaac hadn’t expected that the different telephone numbers could belong to the same agency.
“You’re a persistent lad. You must have had a really wild time back then,” the agency manager laughed.
“But it says on your site that you have a Japanese girl.”
“If you were drug-fuelled and I brought you a Chinese girl, you couldn’t tell the difference. Anyway, I don’t have any Japanese, and I never did. But I’ll look for one. Do you remember the name of your Kamasutra? They often disappear, you know. I mean, they go away. Some guy like you gets stuck on a chick or gives her so much money, she doesn’t need to work anymore, sometimes they even get married.”
“It’s not a matter of Kamasutra. I don’t remember her name exactly. Maybe Yoshi Kato, maybe Hiro Okamato or something like that.”
“OK. If I find her, I’ll call. What hotel are you in?”
“The Grand Hotel de l’Europe,” Isaac lied. He didn’t give the real address in case the deal broke down. It was better to play a rich customer.
Chapter 11
With nothing in particular to do, Bikie suggested they should take a ride to the building where the girls have lived. They decided to go on the bus, in case everything worked out with the escort agency – since there was so little money.
The Japanese girls’ apartment was located in a pleasant looking district, although not in the center. Unfortunately they couldn’t find any cafes nearby that they could have used as an observation post. The building had no concierge, and the residents’ names were on the buttons of the entry phone. There was no tab for Kato or Okamoto, but they found the name Akiyama.
“Look, Akiyama. Could that be our Japanese rose?”
“Let’s check right now,” said Bikie, pressing the call button.
There was no response for a long time, but eventually a soft, mewing voice answered. The friends didn’t know what a Japanese accent sounded like, but it could easily have been one.
“Can I speak to Yoshi Kato,” Isaac asked diffidently.
“I’m sorry, there’s no one here by that name.” There was a brief pause and some bustling in the background. “Who’s looking for her?”
Bikie jogged Isaac with his elbow. Isaac leaned towards him and Bikie whispered that if they didn’t know that person here they wouldn’t have asked who was looking for her.
“I’m an old student of Professor Link’s. I’d like to talk to Yoshi. Are you her friend, Hiro Okamoto?”
There was rustling sound in the entry phone and a different voice answered:
“Wait.”
Bikie uttered a soundless “Yessss!” and slapped Isaac on the shoulder so hard that he winced in pain. When they were in the lobby, Isaac twirled his finger beside his head and told Bikie what he thought of him.
“Ouch! You’re crazy? That hurts.”
“Sorry,” Bikie muttered guiltily. “I was so excited.”
The girl, and it was Hiro indeed, proved to be very nice and hospitable. She didn’t know where Yoshi had suddenly disappeared to. But she showed them a photo and also said she suspected an elderly Englishman. So the most valuable thing the guys learned was what Link’s girlfriend looked like. Hiro asked to let her know if they find her former friend.
They left feeling a bit disappointed though. They hadn’t got anything new apart from confirmation of their guess that Yoshi was probably with Link. And it had been pretty clear that the two were together anyway. No leads yet again.
“Let’s go have a beer at Smokey,” Bikie suggested. “Evening’s coming and I need to relax my nerves.”
Isaac agreed. This was Amsterdam after all. And Smokey was right on Rembrandtplein.
No sooner had the friends drank a mug each, than Isaac’s phone rang. The number was not displayed, but he recognized the voice.
“I’ve found your Japanese girl, where shall I bring her?”
“Mmm, don’t bring her to the hotel, we’ve rented an apartment.”
“We?” the caller asked in surprise. “That’ll cost extra.”
“No, no, I’m the only client,” Isaac clarified.
“OK. I’ll be there in forty minutes.”
“OK,” Isaac replied uncertainly and hung up.
“What crazy shit is this?” asked Isaac, looking at Bikie.
“I don’t know. Maybe Hiro was jerking us around.”
“It didn’t seem that way. But who can tell? Let’s meet her, it can’t do any harm.”
At the agreed time a car drove up to the building. The manager introduced himself as Paul, gave the building a disgusted look and suggested they go upstairs. In the apartment he looked around, sent a text, and soon a woman of about forty came up.
“Here’s your Yoshi,” Paul said with a broad smile. “Give me the money.”
“Do you know Hiro Okamoto?” Bikie asked the woman, smelling a rat.
She looked at Paul inquiringly, but still shook her head.
“It’s not her,” said Bikie, annoyed.
“How do you know if it’s her or not? He’s the one who fell for the Japanese girl,” sa
id Paul, pointing angrily at Isaac.
“But it really isn’t her,” said Isaac, trying to explain.
“I got you what you wanted, and she’s got the right name! Isn’t that right?” said Paul, starting to get angry. “What’s your name? Yoshi, right?” he asked, giving the woman a stern look.
This time she nodded.
“So let’s have the money, guys, and she’s yours. And no tricks. Don’t even think of scamming unless you’re looking for really big trouble.”
Bikie jumped up off his chair with his fists clenched.
“Who’s trying to scam here?”
“Look, lad,” his opponent told him in an icy voice. “I’ll leave calmly right now. And then I’ll come back up and you’ll leave here for the hospital.”
Paul looked very confident and quite menacing, it obviously wasn’t his first time doing this, and Isaac was frightened by Bikie’s quick temper.
“Wait. This is a misunderstanding. We wanted a different Yoshi. Let’s settle this peacefully.”
“Money on the table,” Paul said quietly, calling a number on his cell phone. “We’ve got a problem here,” he said to someone.
Bikie kept on crowding him.
“Don’t give me this bullshit. I’ll call the police and they’ll stick you behind bars before you can even let out a peep. And then they’ll download you dry. No one will let you rip off tourists. This town lives on them, and you’ll get such a kick in the ass, you’ll forget your name.”
Isaac was already standing shoulder to shoulder with Bikie, feeling that a fight was inevitable.
Paul backpedaled with this rush. He lowered his voice and started making excuses.
“I looked for the one you wanted. Hassled people and found you a Japanese girl. You guys are setting me up. I already owe the middleman.”
“Do I kick you out, or you just leave by yourself?” asked Bikie, a genuine bar bouncer seething up inside him.
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