The Hacker Who Becomes a Mafia-Consultant in the Caribbean After a Diamond Coup in Bangkok

by Stieve Adams

some reason, he had been employed at Scotland Yard earlier. Of course, the headquarters wanted to know where I had been, why I wanted to check the Mexican police and more and more, but I referred to myself as a big customer.

  After a much needed shower, we walked out to the telephone booth after a couple of hours and I called the headquarters and confirmed that the name I received was a department head of the Mexican police.

  "OK, Maria," I confirmed"call your boss, but I also want to talk to him."

  Maria is calling and launches her latest adventure in fast Spanish. The person on the other side of the thread does not seem to be completely satisfied with the development, they have a keen discussion about something that I do not perceive. It seems that Maria wants to join me in the continuing treasure hunt but apparently not her boss. Maria will eventually catch me the handset.

  "Do you want to help us to continue looking for the treasure?" Asks the phone voice.

  "No," I say "I've had too much trouble already, I have to go back to selling computers or we will soon be bankrupt."

  "Good," says the voice of voice, "it's usually just a problem with amateurs involved in police affairs. I would be grateful if you spoke of what you know for us, then Maria can return to her role in the suspicious organization."

  "Oh, do you mean you're going to send her back to the goat farm again?" He claimed that they could not have any suspicion that Maria was anyone else than she was.

  For further reflection, maybe it was that way. She could get in touch with the organization, displaying some credible story about her rescue. Of course, she would not tell me I was saved. For a further reflection, I might have disappeared from the Caribbean for a while, I was tired of being chased in one and it was probably not good for the shops either.

  On returning to Island Paradise, there was Valerie and Boy in my room. The look was smooth, but Valerie and Boy looked at Maria almost as if she were a shave worm. Fully understandable, the last time they met when we were locked in a hotel in Antigua.

  I told of my involvement on the boat and how we saved each other so that we landed from the sinking boat. I did not mention that Maria was a Mexican police, I considered it as a business secret for now. I was involved in so many shady shops now that I told you as little as possible for as few as possible.

  "I have received a letter," said Valerie, "from my resident sailor who disappeared. He asks me to send the book he forgot to the place he is now."

  "Hope," I exclaimed, "we are good and greet him." Suddenly, I'm grabbing the treasure hunt, an hour ago, I was prepared to shut up and devote myself to computers instead.

  Valerie suddenly becomes silent and looks mean at Maria. I then tell you that Maria is a Mexican police, which Valerie does not believe a dew until I've told me how I checked the authenticity.

  "Okay then," she says, "he's in Singapore."

  "It was the worst ..." I sigh, "It was a bit away if you want to greet him. And it's not cheap either to go to Singapore," I add as the real Scot I am.

  Maria disappears and comes back a quarter later.

  "I have a suggestion to do," she says, "I've just talked to my boss and he wants to hire Signor Jones and signature Valerie temporarily to look for the Singapore seaman. We pay the trip, overheads plus 150 US dollars a day "Valerie is the only one who knows him and you've worked together with success we've seen before."

  "Am I?" Exclaimed Boy.

  "Not a chance," says Maria, "we can not engage minors."

  Given that the pleasant climate of the West Indies became uncomfortable to me, I called home to the headquarters and suggested that I change my district for a while. Since I was planning to switch to Singapore, there were some questions and discussion before it was decided. I actually called my colleague in Singapore and he thought it would be fun to get to cooler latitudes, as he expressed.

  18. Singapore

  The trip to the other side of the globe went via Antigua and London. I became more and more surprised by Valerie. She seemed rescued and world-renowned in a way I did not expect. From the outset, I had regarded her as a sort of clerk who barely been outside of Leeward Islands, that is, the Caribbean islands on the "league side". The wind is almost always blowing from the southeast, and St. Kitts lies among the islands in the northwest.

  Thirty-six hour flight gave an opportunity to hear about Valerie's background. Certainly, she worked in some kind of office in the state administration in St. Kitts, but she had an academic degree from a Florida university, perhaps explaining that she was a world renowned. She behaved in a different way than before, she was purely business-like and not as kiddie and protective as before.

  Eventually, she realized that she was jealous of Maria, while at the same time feeling like she was using other means of cooperation. But she seemed to trust me completely.

  Although it is relatively spacious in the first class of a jumbo jet, it is stressful to spend one and a half days at airports and in airplanes.

  Singapore was a surprise. I have never seen such a clean and well-kept city. The Caribbean is junk, nobody cares about finding old coca cola or car wrecks. There was not a lot like a cola paper that was rubbish. It turned out to be a big deal of fine if you threw the smallest junk on the street. Skyscrapers and business centers resolved each other. In Scotland, you are building indoor halls for a warmer shopping climate, where you build indoors to cool. Despite the heat, it was surprisingly fresh in the air, it should mean that there was quite low humidity, right now anyway.

  Raffels, the famous hotel from the British colonial era, was fully booked so we entered Dynasty Hotel, the hotel with the strange roof. After breakfast in the hotel's dining room it was time to start looking for our sailor.

  He had not provided an address, but the letter would be sent to a post office in a business center in central Singapore. We started by trying to get information about our sailor, a Swedish named Björn Andersson, at the post office. But the post office was apparently chosen carefully, there was no one who could remember that person among thousands of visitors every day.

  We then did two things to track our Swedish sailor. Valerie wrote a letter to him where she wanted him to meet a friend at a Japanese restaurant that we found close to our hotel. We had put the letter in a big red envelope so we could see it when it was retrieved. In addition, we tried to monitor the post office all day from morning to evening. Valerie had to be there most of the time, but with the help of description plus the red envelope, I should also have a chance when Valerie needed to be away for eating or other natural needs.

  On the third day, when Valerie accomplished some of her other natural needs, I saw the red envelope on my way out of the post office. It was extremely close that I missed it because there was no Scandinavian sailor who picked it up without a Chinese in white shirt. I followed him in the crowd, which was not easy, everybody in the streets was a Chinese in white shirt. Despite its British affection, most of the people in Singapore are Chinese, and there are quite a few Malays and a few Europeans.

  I managed to follow the red envelope and saw that it disappeared on a bus. Before I got there, the bus started, I rushed out into the street and managed to get a taxi.

  "Follow that bus," I hunted.

  The taxi driver turned around and looked at me. He shrugged his shoulders and I thought he was mumbling about crazy English, but I could have heard a mistake. I felt like a crazy shot anyway. Apparently we came further away from the business streets, the houses became lower and soon we were in the Chinese Quarter. The houses were lower and the commerce was in full swing on the sidewalks. That is, here everything was sold from old clothes, cheap jewellery and various dishes most outside the shops. Maybe other things were sold, too, but this was what I saw from the back seat of the taxi.

  My friend with the envelope suddenly jumped off the bus and disappeared into a house. I did the same thing, that is, I paid the taxi and tried to follow the envelope into the house. In central Singapore, I was a businessman in the crow
d, here in the Chinese Quarter I deviate from the amount in a significant way. It also seemed to the surroundings, I was taken care of by the surroundings, especially as I was hoping to get into a house.

  The businessmen did not think I would rush into the house in that way, a few big strong Chinese one hundred kilos giants quickly arrived at me and showed very much that they did not think I would enter the house after the red envelope. I tried to move them aside, but I could as well try to move two elephants.

  I then tried to tell the powerful boys that I was a friend of Björn Andersson and that I thought he was living in this house. They shook their heads and did not seem to understand my English at all. Soon one of the businessmen came up and asked politely what I wanted. I was convinced that I wanted to meet Björn Andersson but without success.

  "But if you see him, you can give him a message. I want to invite him for dinner - eight o'clock tonight."

  The Chinese bowed easily and said he would do this if he probably would appear. It seemed to him as if it was as incredible as to come to the moon tonight. But maybe that was just his way that confused me, what do I know.

  One of the "elephants" was kindness and managed in 10 seconds to make a taxi. The whistle was no whistle but reminded more of the trumpet of an elephant. He not only resembled an elephant, he sounded like one