"OK. Question answered. Where are you?"
"I'm sitting in a children's playground with a cigarette."
"You don't smoke."
"I didn't say I was smoking it. I'm just holding it near my lips so that from the police station opposite it looks like I'm smoking, and therefore I have an excuse to be out of my office."
"You're hiding."
"I've reached my limit. I'm imagining all the things I'd do to him if I were four times the man I am."
"You want revenge?"
"Absolutely."
"Good. You remember his address?"
"I've driven past it several times and thrown imaginary Molotov cocktails."
"Do you feel like going inside?"
"That would be what we policemen refer to as breaking and entering?"
"That's the one. I bet you're good at it."
"And what, apart from the stimulating rush of adrenaline, would be my motivation?"
"We're going after the slavers. Even if we get them, we still wouldn't have any evidence that Egg was involved. There's nothing incriminating in his files. We need something that ties him to this whole slavery thing. And we need to know what other police are involved."
"Other police?"
"The Burmese they've taken today were picked up by uniformed police."
"Do you have an actual witness this time?"
"We have seventeen of them. But they're on their way to the deep ocean. We're going to bring them back."
"Do you have a plan?"
"It's complicated."
"You don't have a plan."
"I do. It's coming. And your breaking and entering is a part of that plan."
He was quiet.
"Are you thinking?" I asked.
"I'm posing elegantly with my cigarette between two fingers as I consider the humiliation of being discharged from the police force."
"It can't be any worse than the humiliation you've suffered by being in it."
Another silence.
"You're right."
"So, you'll do it?"
"Nobody bullies big Chom and gets away with it."
12.
I Was Feeling Kinda Seasick, hut the Crowd Called Arthur Moor
(from "Whiter Shade of Pale" – PROCOL HARUM)
The small vessels generally set out for sea from Jamook Prong harbor, but this day Ed's new seven-meter squid boat was parked directly beside the Honda. The tide was full and the sea was once again nudging the cabins. I'd avoided eye contact with Ed, even while briefing him on piracy matters. I was impressed at how readily he'd volunteered himself and his boat. He'd brought along a friend, plastic awnings salesman and part-time private investigator Meng, to act as crew. I knew that with every new recruit there was one added chance of a double agent sneaking in. There was a lot of piracy bribe money going around. But I'd had dealings with Meng, and he appeared to be the type who found it hard to tell a lie. At 150 centimeters and 40 kilos, however, I didn't see him wrestling many armed guards to the ground.
"So, exactly what is the plan?" Ed asked.
I almost looked at him.
"I can't really tell you just yet," I said. "I'm waiting for the last piece to slot into place."
"So, you haven't, as yet, got one."
"I've got one," I began. "I just can't-"
"Ho, ho, what do we have here then?" came a booming voice.
Across the littered sand marched Bigman Beung in what could only be described as an admiral's uniform. It had more ribbons and twirls than a rhythmic gym club. It was lousy timing. The last thing I needed was drama with our sleazy headman.
"Beung," I said, "what are you doing here?"
"What are you doing here is a more likely question," he said. "And I must say I am very fond of the way your wet T-shirt adheres to your little brassiere, by the way."
I was still damp from my attempt to rescue Grandad Jah. That and sweating, and I'd probably end up with pneumonia. I fluffed out my T-shirt, but his gaze remained on my chest.
"We're having a launch party for Ed's new boat," I lied. "Grandad's gone to fetch the firecrackers. The monk's just left."
I looked over my shoulder, expecting to see Ed and PI Meng backing me up, but they were off along the beach having a stroll.
"Is that so?"
"Yes."
"Odd, that, considering we already had a launch ceremony for him three weeks ago."
"Yeah, right. But this is a private, family celebration. To thank him for all the good grass cutting he's done for us over the past year."
"Is that so?"
"Yes."
My breasts were heavy from his gaze, so it was a relief when he finally looked me in the eye.
"You shouldn't lie to a village headman, little Jimm."
"I'm not exactly-"
"Why do you suppose I'm here?"
"I don't know. To inspect the latrines?"
"Now, does this look like a sanitation uniform to you?
He was right. It certainly didn't. It looked like a Gilbert and Sullivan costume.
"I'm here for the voyage," he said.
"Where are you going?"
"Where are we going?"
I shook my head.
"Captain Kow phoned me," he said.
A chunk of meteorite fell from space and landed in my stomach.
"W-why?"
"Don't look so surprised, honey. Me and the captain are like this."
He wound his fingers around each other like a nautical knot. I suddenly hated Captain Kow. In one foul phone call he'd doomed our project to failure. I was ready to call it off there and then. To make matters worse, Beung took my hand in his. His fingers were greasy.
"I'm the main man in these parts. Don't forget that. Me and the captain have been keeping our eyes on those deep-sea vessels."
"You have?"
"We may look like a disorganized rabble, but the Maprao Coastal Watch has its finger on the pulse."
His thumb caressed my palm.
"And?"
"We've long suspected foul play out there. Your findings have proven us correct. But we knew that we would be up against influential figures. We weren't certain how to progress. We lacked a solid plan."
I knew what was coming next.
"What's our plan?" he asked.
"I don't exactly-"
There was a scream from up the beach. Mair came running toward us, waving both arms at the same time, as if scaring off imaginary birds. All the crew members gathered around her, waiting for her to catch her breath. When her voice arrived, it did so in a conspiratorial whisper. We couldn't hear a word.
"Mair, speak up," said Arny.
She looked back toward the shop.
"I can't speak too loud. He might hear me."
"Who?"
"Him. One of the body snatchers. The bombers. The rats. He's back. He parked up on the road, and he's sneaking down the pathway. But I saw him. Father, get your gun. Let's show this motherf-"
"Mair," I shouted. "Calm down. Are you sure it's him?"
"I'd recognize him anywhere."
There was no time for the gun. We all ran up the beach, grabbing whatever weapons we could find among the debris: bamboo, shoes, used hypodermics. We took up positions behind walls and huts and waited. And waited. I was just about to step out and take a look when a stocky man in an airport baggage-handler's uniform walked brazenly across the car park.
"Get him," shouted Grandad Jah.
We charged, mindlessly, and the man put up his hands and dropped onto his back with his legs in the air like a submissive dog. Recognizing the signs, Sticky reached the intruder first and, without a second of thought, ripped the mustache clean off the man's face. There should have been blood, but I saw none. The victim did, however, give out a high-pitched scream that I recognized immediately.
"Hold back, everyone," I shouted. "It's a relative."
"Sissi?" said Arny, and rushed over to help his ex-brother to his feet. They hugged. I joined the
maul. Mair was a little slow on the uptake.
"Who is that in there?"
"Hello, Mair," said Sissi.
It was obvious why we hadn't recognized my sister. Apart from the large baggage-handler overalls, she wore a peaked cap and, until recently, an orange mustache. To anyone who didn't know her as Miss Pattaya World 1992, she was all man, complete with a John Wayne walk and a mas-caraed five-o-clock shadow.
"Somkiet?" yelled Mair and rushed to her first-born. She ripped her daughter away from me and Arny and cried all over her.
"Somkiet. You've come back to us."
The plan was complete.
"So, where should I set up?" Sissi asked me. "And are you planning to wipe that silly smile off your face anytime soon?
"I'm sorry," I said. "I just think it's frogging hilarious."
"You'd prefer I'd turned up in redneck central, wearing high-heels and a bust-revealing halter neck?"
"Hmm, perhaps you're right. Where did you put them, by the way?"
"Strapped down, reluctantly."
"I hope they don't burst. You're a sight for sore eyes. Mair's so happy you're here."
"She looks healthy. All this sea and simplicity's good for her."
"Good for her body, anyway."
We were on my veranda, having a very hurried reunion before my boat sailed. Sticky sat at our feet, gnawing on the mustache. I'd told Sissi about the problem we had with the Noys and the Special Branch and that setting up her equipment at our resort might not be such a good idea. We didn't want them coming back to find a computer operation going on.
"Well," I said, "if you need other computers, the Internet shop in Pak Nam's the only place. If you're lucky, you might get there before all the high school gamers arrive."
"And why would the owner let me take over his shop?"
"We have a sort of…understanding. He thinks we're Internet police. You shouldn't have any trouble. Mair can show you where it is."
She reached into her gym bag and produced what looked like a slim slab of plastic slate.
"All right," she said. "Here's the beast. Treat it lovingly."
"That's it?"
"It's a heavy-duty XR2 double-"
"All right. Enough with the specs. I like it."
"You should. The Navy Seals use it on missions. It's bulletproof."
"Really? I don't suppose you've got one about my height and width?"
"I didn't have time to get you external cameras or mikes, so you'll have to do your commentary directly into this little hole here. You'll get fourteen hours on the battery, but here's a back-up just in case you're shipwrecked or cast adrift."
That thought appalled me more than catching a bullet.
"And that's all I need?"
"No. What do you think I was doing on your boat just now? I've attached one other slice of magic. It's a lightweight Explorer 700 with-"
"Just tell me what it does, all right?"
"It connects to satellites. That's not so easy on a boat because the receiver usually has to be stable. Close to shore you might have got away with using a cell-phone signal. I didn't know how far you'll be going out to sea. But that beauty should give you an unbroken signal from wherever you are."
"Great, Sis. Thanks. I see you got along really well with the baggage handler?"
"What do you mean?"
"You got him out of his uniform."
"No. Not my type, as it turned out. He had a spare uniform. But talking about getting along…"
"What?"
"Ed?"
"What about him?"
"He could shiver my timbers anytime. I can see why you've got a thing for that lean machine."
"I do not have a thing for him."
"Oh, good. I'll have him then."
"Good luck. I've heard he's really turned on by mustachioed airport workers."
"You wait till he sees me out of drag."
"I'll do my best to keep him alive for you. Time to go."
We hugged but didn't say goodbye.
"Are you sure all this is going to work?" I asked.
"The technical side I can guarantee. All that other stuff- the boating and the shooting and the rescuing and the drowning-that's up to you lot."
I walked along the beach. Everyone was on the boat waiting for me. Seven long faces. I was the team leader, and I didn't want them to see how hopeless I thought this all was. I waded out to them with a hopeful expression. I'd remembered to bring a change of clothes in a plastic bag, even though the standard squid boat didn't come complete with a changing room. Captain Ed the grass cutter leaped from his little boat into the chest-high water. The waves didn't appear to buffet him.
"We ready?" he shouted.
The water was already up to my neck. I had the computer and the plastic bag on my head. Ed waded toward me. I knew his intention.
"I'm perfectly capable of getting into a boat without being manhandled," I said.
I thought there might have been a little ladder somewhere, perhaps a crane. But there was merely a sheer wall of timber. I couldn't even reach the top of it with my hand. "Sorry," he said. "But you aren't." He ducked beneath the water, put his arms around my upper thighs and lifted me as if I weighed no more than a large herring. Apparently the effects of the antidepressant hadn't quite worn off. Grandad Jah and PI Meng took my belongings, then grabbed my wrists and hoisted me up. In one effortless move, Ed was on the deck at the same time as me. He primed the motor, weighed anchor, and we were off with only a slight bump of the Honda. I wondered how that would look on the insurance claim. Mair stood on the beach waving a discarded plastic bag.
DEAR CLINT. THE FOLLOWING ACCOUNT OF THE SEABORNE QUEST AND THE SIMULTANEOUS LAND INVESTIGATIONS HAVE BEEN TRANSCRIBED FROM LIVE INTERNET FOOTAGE AND INTERVIEWS. IN THE M APR AO CRIMINAL JUSTICE SYSTEM, THE PEOPLE ARE REPRESENTED BY TWO SEPARATE YET EQUALLY IMPORTANT GROUPS-THE STAFF OF THE LOVELY RESORT, WHO INVESTIGATE CRIME, AND THE FEW STRAIGHT COPS OF THE PAK NAM STATION, WHO MAKE ARRESTS AND OCCASIONALLY PROSECUTE THE OFFENDERS. THESE ARE THEIR STORIES.
Sissi and Mair left the dogs to guard the Lovely Resort and headed off to Pak Nam in the Mighty X. They stopped off at the post office and collected Mair's cell phone and an apology from Nat the manager for giving away her personal address so recklessly.
Back in the truck, Mair used her phone to call Meaty of the DSI.
"What?"
"My name is Mrs. Jitmanat Gesuwan. I am the proprietor of the Gulf Bay Lovely Resort and Restaurant in Maprao."
There was nothing but silence from the other end.
"It was me who kneed you in the bollocks this morning. I m-
"I remember. What do you want?"
"Shortly after you left, a man arrived to look at the Honda. He didn't say anything. He was short-haired and sour-looking, so I thought he was one of your men. He played around with the engine and somehow got it going. My father was impressed. Next thing you know, it was gone."
"Someone took the car?"
"It wasn't you?"
"No."
"Then my neighbor might have been right after all. She said she'd seen two women driving away from our resort in a silver car. That must have been the women you were looking for. I bet you they hired a mechanic. And that would also explain why I found a plastic bag hanging in the carport with a large sum of money in it. It more than covered what they owed. I should think they're-"
"What time was this?"
"Ooh, I don't know. About two?"
"And what direction were they headed?"
"South. Although they could easily have-" He hung up.
"Job done," said Mair, and took her son's hand. "It's nice to have you home."
"You're really something," said Sissi. "Thank you, child. At last my family's all together. My dream has come true."
Live Internet feed. 5 P.M. Gulf of Thailand (CAMERA-CLOSE-UP OF JIMM JUREE)
JIMM: I am reporting live to you from an unstable squid boat rocking perilously in the Gulf of Thailand. Thi
s is a live feed. English is not my native language, so please forgive my accent. We are heading out to deep water where at least seventeen Burmese are being held captive as slaves on three forty-meter fishing boats. The slaves are most likely being held at gunpoint. We have no idea how many guards there are or what weapons they're using. We are one small boat against three large ones. We are a crew of eight with only one handgun between us. Among our number are old men, an engaged couple, and a woman with a fear of water. None of us knows if we will make it back alive. We have no plan other than to find the ships and rescue the Burmese. And, yes, as I speak a fine rain has started to fall. (CAMERA-NOTEBOOK TIPS UP TOWARD THE GRAY SKY. A BLOB OF RAIN HITS THE LENS.) Are we in for another blustery-storm to make our venture even more difficult?
I am your reporter Jimm Juree and I intend to stay here talking to you online until the matter is resolved-one way or another. Will we save the lives of our abused neighbors, or will we be cut down in a hail of machine-gun fire? Only time and the intervention of Mazu, the Chinese goddess of the sea, will tell.
"She looks fat on this thing," said Mair. She was leaning over Sissi's shoulder as they watched the live feed.
"She is a bit overweight," said Sissi.
"But not fat, son. There isn't an ounce of fat on her. She's solid, I'll give you that. A good solid Chiang Mai girl. Look at her. She's so pretty. Wouldn't it be wonderful if someone saw her on this and took a liking to her? Do you think anyone's watching?"
"So far…two thousand seven hundred."
"Two thousand seven hundred what?"
"People…watching."
"No."
"I swear. Look at the counter. This is the number of real-time viewers."
"That's people?"
"Sure is."
"But how did they know? We've only just started."
"I've been putting up links all over. Advertising on Web sites. Facebook. Twitter. Next thing you know, it goes viral."
"That sounds unpleasant. So you think there might be more?"
"I'm sure of it."
"Oh. Then there's certain to be someone out there who likes her, isn't there?"
"A lot of weirdos on the Internet, Mair."
"Don't be cruel. She's a very attractive girl with a lovely personality and a good sense of humor. Perhaps you could just make her look a little slimmer?"
Grandad, Thereэ's head on the beach jj-2 Page 18
