“Welcome to Sylvia’s,” said a feminine voice behind him in English.
Mike turned to find an elegantly dressed woman about his age. She was an attractive lady with long brown hair that reached the middle of her back. Her white dress was like what any other professional woman would wear to work. What set her apart was the small riding whip she held in her hand. There was no mistake that she was in charge.
“I’m Sylvia, the madam of this establishment,” she continued. “We take cash, Visa, and American Express.”
“You don’t mess around, do you?” joked Mike.
“We always try to clear the unpleasantness of the transaction process early on in our guests’ visits,” she replied, returning his smile.
Mike had hoped that the brothel would be more low-end. Then he could simply bribe the madam to access the video feed. He wasn’t at all sure a bribe would work in this case. He had a feeling that the madam was quite protective of her clients. He would have to change tactics.
“Do I have to pay now?” he asked.
“Yes. There is a flat fee of two hundred and fifty euros. That will buy you seventy minutes with any girl or boy you choose. You can do whatever you want, but violence or gagging is not allowed. For your convenience, if you wish to use a credit card, the billing will appear as though a gift shop had charged you.”
“Very thoughtful of you,” said Mike. “But I prefer to pay cash.”
“Cash is always our preferred method of payment as well.”
Mike reached inside his pocket for the roll of American dollars that Support Five had provided him. He was counting out four hundred-dollar bills when the madam interrupted him.
“I’m deeply sorry, sir. I can only accept euros,” she said.
“Oh,” exclaimed Mike, surprised. “My friend told me that US dollars were fine.”
“Unfortunately, we can’t get a good exchange rate around here. I’m afraid that the mighty US dollar isn’t worth what it once was.”
Mike replaced the dollars and pulled out a small fold of euros from his other pocket. He peeled off six fifty-euro notes, hoping that the extra would help lubricate his mission. He handed them over.
“Have a seat and relax,” she told him. “Your selections will be out shortly.”
“Thank you,” he replied. He took a seat on one of the leather sofas facing a replica of a Picasso painting.
“Would you like anything to drink? A scotch maybe?” the madam asked, letting her right hand brush against his shoulders.
“No, thank you. But may I ask you a question?”
“Especially if it’s a naughty one,” she murmured softly in his ear.
“Do these cameras work, or are they just deterrents?”
His question took her by surprise and broke the sensual aura. She took a step away from him.
“Why do you ask?” she asked defensively.
“Curiosity. Let’s just say that I’m camera shy.”
“Is that so? You don’t look like the shy type to me.”
“All right,” admitted Mike, laughing. “You’re too good. Here’s the truth. My friend came here about a month ago while on a business trip. He had marital problems and decided to blow off some steam by using your services.”
He saw that the madam understood where he was going with this. She resorted to being a gracious hostess.
“You know, that wouldn’t be the first time a married man decided to come here,” she said, glancing down at Mike’s left ring finger.
“I’m sure you’re right. But the twist here is that my friend is now back with his wife and he’s suffering from remorse. He saw the CCTV cameras, and he’s wondering if his visit here won’t end up on the Internet. He’s quite worried, to be honest. The fact that he was with a man isn’t helping either, if you know what I mean.”
“You can reassure your friend that we only monitor this reception area and the stairs that you used to come up. Also, everything is automatically erased after six weeks.”
“Listen,” said Mike, “I don’t doubt for a second that what you’re saying is the truth. I could tell right away that you’re working hard to keep this place safe, and that confidentiality is an important business practice for you.”
The madam smiled warmly in acknowledgment.
“But there’s a small problem,” Mike went on. “My friend is a well-known figure in the United States, and I promised him I would take care of the problem. He hasn’t slept for the last few days thinking about what might happen if his infidelities were to become public knowledge.”
“I don’t know how I could be of service to you,” she said, trying politely to close the subject.
Mike forged on. “I have an idea. One that might be of great benefit to both my friend and you. Would you care to hear it?”
She shrugged, feigning indifference. But Mike could see that she was interested.
“I know that the PSP were here recently and seized some money from you,” he said.
“How do you know that?” she demanded angrily.
“That’s of no concern to you. What I’m proposing is for you to keep the three hundred euros I already gave you, plus I’ll give you a one-thousand-dollar bonus if you help me find my friend on your videotapes and answer a few questions. Do we have a deal?”
“Ten thousand dollars,” she replied after a few moments.
“Three thousand,” he said, knowing he had her.
“Six thousand is my last offer,” she said, crossing her arms.
“I only have five thousand dollars on me, but it’s yours. Do we have a deal?”
“I’ll take five thousand and that nice watch.”
Mike looked down at his wrist. The Tag Heuer watch was the only item he cared about. Lisa had given it to him during their first year of dating. Nonetheless, he removed it and placed it on the table next to him. She’ll be pissed. He took out the wad of American dollars and gave it to the madam, who smiled in return.
“I’ll put this in a safe place, and I’ll be back to help you out in your search,” she said, grabbing the watch off the table as she passed.
She left the room using a door that Mike guessed led to the suites. Once alone, he focused his thoughts on how to hone in on the client who had slipped the hundred-dollar bill to the madam, who supposedly only accepted euros. The whole mission now resided on the madam’s ability to remember who it was.
The door the madam had exited through suddenly swung open. Two goons dressed in tuxedos walked purposefully toward Mike. He shook his head, resigned. He’d hoped to achieve his objective without any bloodshed. It didn’t look like this would be the case after all. Both men were taller than Mike, and both looked menacing. One of them had a shaved head, while the other had a long black ponytail. Standing up, Mike relaxed only slightly when he saw that they had no weapons.
“The madam would like for you to leave now,” said the bald man.
“I am afraid you’re mistaken,” replied Mike, already coiled for action. “I have a special arrangement with her. I’m sure she’ll confirm this with you if you take the time to ask her.”
The two thugs looked at each other as if in pure disbelief that he was talking back to them. Without another word, they approached him from each side.
Mike knew they wouldn’t take a swing at him until they had at least pretended to try to bring him out peacefully. He made his move when the ponytailed man attempted to push him toward the exit by placing both his hands on his back. Mike let his body move forward but pivoted on his right foot while using his right arm to deflect the goon’s hands. Making an abrupt about-face toward his opponent, Mike delivered a devastating left hook that landed squarely on the other man’s jaw. The goon stumbled backward but didn’t go down. Mike, not letting him recuperate, delivered a powerful right jab to the nose followed by another left hook that uplifted the
thug’s chin. This time the man’s legs collapsed under him.
Mike felt the second goon approaching fast and sent a high kick back toward the threat. His heel met the man’s solar plexus, but the bald thug was beefy and the force only stopped his momentum. Mike used the advantage to throw a series of lightning-fast punches that his opponent had difficulty blocking. After a few good hits, the goon became unfocused. Seizing his opportunity, Mike grabbed him behind the head and pulled down hard, using his body weight against his opponent’s height. At the same time, he raised his left leg and delivered a crushing knee strike directly into the man’s face. The impact sent the recipient crashing backward into a mirrored wall, which shattered into a thousand pieces.
Knowing that the madam was watching everything through her CCTV, Mike hurriedly crossed the reception area and entered the door the goons had just come through. It led to a carpeted hallway that had eight doors on the right and three on the left.
Like any hotel hallway, the doors each had a number—except for one. Mike decided that it was the door to the madam’s office. He tried the doorknob, but it was locked. He took a step back, and, using all his strength, he rammed the door with his shoulder. The simple lock gave way, and the door swung open. The medium-size room was sparsely furnished but had a small kitchenette next to an old Ikea-type dining table.
Just as Mike had anticipated, the madam had been monitoring his progress via three small flat screen televisions mounted on the wall. They were connected to a large black computer located on a desk close to the kitchenette. Two of the screens were displaying images of the lobby, while the other one was showing the staircase leading up to the brothel.
The madam had retreated to the corner farthest from the door. She had deposited the whip and was holding a police baton in her steady hands. She didn’t wait for Mike to advance. Showing no fear toward the intruder, she moved toward him holding the baton like a baseball bat. When she was within range, she swung the baton hard, trying for his temple.
Mike ducked the first blow and grabbed her wrists as she was bringing the baton down for another try. He then moved his hands onto the weapon, placing one just above her hands and the other toward the baton’s end. He gave it a good clockwise twist, and the baton slipped out of her grasp. Looking defiantly into his eyes, she reached for her riding whip. But Mike, who’d had enough of this bullshit, took hold of her shoulders and swung her around, sweeping his right arm around her neck in a choke hold. He applied just enough pressure for her to feel the pain and the dizziness of having less blood moving to her brain.
“Enough,” Mike said quietly. “Or I’ll break your neck here and now.”
He wanted to show her who was in charge. He’d tried to play nice, but that had gotten him nowhere.
He felt that she was trying to speak, so he released the pressure by a fraction.
“O-okay…I’ll help you.”
“No more games. If I feel you’re not being honest…”
The madam shook her head vigorously.
“Are you the only one who collects the fees from the clients?”
“Yes,” she murmured.
“If I release you, will you do anything stupid?” he asked.
“I won’t,” she said softly.
Mike knew that tone of voice well. He had heard it many times in the past while interrogating suspects who had lost their will to fight. He let her go.
She turned fully around and looked at him. She didn’t say anything, but Mike could see that she was grateful for her life. She had played a dangerous game and lost.
Wasting no more time, Mike got to the point. “A couple days ago, someone gave you an American hundred-dollar bill. I want to know who that person was.”
“The story about your friend in the US was false?”
“I didn’t say that. Just answer the question,” barked Mike, feeling his temper rising.
“Of course I remember. Our patrons are mostly locals who pay in euros, so I remember when someone wants to pay with US dollars. Before today, the only US bill I’ve seen in the last few weeks came from a foreigner. The funny thing is that he paid his fee in euros, then decided to leave me a hundred-dollar tip on his way out.”
“Is that transaction on camera?”
“Um, yes, it should be. I was in the lounge when he came to me and slipped that bill into my bra,” she said.
“Show it to me,” ordered Mike. “Do it fast and I’ll let you keep my money.”
As the madam busied herself on the large black computer, Mike’s mind shifted to other impending problems. He had to get the information and get out of this place fast. He wasn’t sure how long the two goons would remain unconscious, but it wouldn’t be much longer. He assessed the two monitors showing the lobby to see if they had started to regain their senses. Not yet.
“Here! Look! I found him,” Sylvia said triumphantly.
Mike looked over her shoulder at the computer screen. The video quality was surprisingly sharp, and the CCTV had taken a few good shots of the man slipping a bill to the madam. Mike didn’t recognize the Arabic face but remained confident he had just found a picture of Abdullah Ahmad Ghazi.
“Make a digital copy of that video for me,” he commanded.
Sylvia pressed a few buttons on her keyboard and inserted a flash drive into one of the computer’s USB ports. A few seconds later, she took it out and handed it to Mike.
Not caring if he blew his cover story, he asked, “Do you know what his name is?”
She thought about it for a few seconds. “He was with Olivier. I…I can’t remember his name, I swear,” she insisted.
“Never mind. Just delete today’s recordings. And don’t try to fool me—I know how these things work,” he lied.
After a few seconds, he saw a pop-up window appearing on the computer screen asking if the administrator really wanted to permanently delete all the recordings from the last twenty-four hours. The madam looked at him to make sure he was watching what she was doing. She brought the cursor to the yes icon and clicked on it. A new pop-up window appeared to confirm that all of the day’s recordings had been erased.
“All right, here’s the new deal,” Mike said.
“You told me you were going to leave,” she answered with fear in her voice.
“I will. But there is one more thing you need to do to earn the money I gave you.”
Mike could tell that she expected the worst.
He wrote down a number on a piece of paper and gave it to her. “If this man ever comes back here, you will leave a message at this number as soon as he’s with one of your prostitutes.”
Relieved, she nodded her head vigorously.
“You will not tell him or anyone else that I came to ask you questions regarding this man.”
She continued nodding her head.
“If you do as you’re asked, you will be left alone. If you don’t, your business will be torched, and you and all your employees will be hunted down and killed,” he warned her.
She swallowed hard.
“Is that understood?”
She was too terrified to speak, but he knew he had made himself clear. Of course, he would never dream of doing anything like that, but he needed her to obey.
“One more thing,” he added. “I want my watch back.”
“Ricardo took it,” she replied, looking down at the floor.
“One of those creeps?” he asked, pointing at the heap of limbs on the lobby monitor.
“Yes, the one with the long hair.”
Taking one more look at the monitors, he saw that the bald security guard was starting to move. It was time to leave. As he passed through the hallway, a few of the suite’s doors swiftly closed. Mike realized that parts of his discussion with the madam might have been overheard, but that didn’t change anything. He had accomplished his mission.
Keeping his back to the two cameras in the lobby, Mike approached the two men on the ground. “Don’t even think about it,” he warned the bald guard who was trying to get up. The barely conscious goon obeyed, watching as Mike retrieved the Tag Heuer from his comrade’s wrist. He let the limp arm drop loudly to the floor.
“Buy your own, asshole.”
CHAPTER 58
Mike exited the building without a backward glance by the same entrance he had used twenty-five minutes before. Once on the sidewalk, he placed his right hand in his pocket and scratched his nose with his left index finger. That prearranged signal indicated to Lisa that all was well and that he would meet her later as scheduled.
Mike turned at the next intersection and walked until he was able to hail a taxi driving in the opposite direction.
“The Decorative Arts Museum,” Mike told the cab driver.
Lisbon had a wealth of exceptional museums, from the world-class Calouste Gulbenkian to the outstanding Ancient Art Museum. Mike had always enjoyed exploring museums, but this time he was visiting one for a different reason. They were easy places for someone trying to evade potential surveillance to disappear.
After the taxicab dropped him in front of the red seventeenth-century palace, Mike walked into the lobby to pay the four-euro admission fee. A group of twenty elderly tourists was waiting close to the entrance, next to a single security guard wearing a white shirt and a black tie that was too short. Seeing that Mike was by himself, the clerk pointed toward the group of tourists and inquired if he wanted to join the guided tour that was about to start for an additional five euros. Mike paid the clerk and got his hand stamped as proof of his additional payment.
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