Welcome to Hell

by Colin Martin

  Then he rushed at me.

  All hell broke lose. He threw a few punches at me, then I managed to grab his arm and he wrestled me to the floor. Holdsworth stepped in, but one of the policemen immediately put a hand on his shoulder. He backed off, noticing that the policeman’s other hand was on his holster.

  I belted O’Connor in the face. I wanted to kill him there and then. The bastard had destroyed my life.

  The police had to pry us apart. O’Connor was built like a prop forward and far too strong for me, but I didn’t care. I locked on to him and continued to punch him in the face.

  When I finally stopped hitting him, I noticed that I’d left a slight mark under his left eye, but apart from that he wasn’t hurt.

  He was bloody angry though. I don’t know if it was because he’d been caught by one of his own scams, or if it was simply because he’d been caught, but he was not a happy man. His eyes kept darting around the room and his face was purple with rage.

  The police now spoke and told O’Connor to sit down. Once he was sitting he seemed to recover himself slightly.

  ‘What the hell is going on?’ he barked. ‘I am a businessman. I did not come to this office to be attacked!’

  My police friends told O’Connor that I had made a complaint against him, and then explained what I’d told them. O’Connor said that he didn’t know me and had never seen me before in his life.

  This was all bullshit and everybody knew it. So the police laid it out very simply. He could either admit that he stole the money, or he could go to prison.

  O’Connor thought about this for a minute.

  ‘Wait! Wait a minute,’ he said. ‘Maybe I do remember doing some business with Mr Martin. I didn’t steal any money, but Mr Martin might have lost out on the deal. I’m sure we can come to some agreement. Perhaps we could talk in private,’ he added, looking at me.

  I still remember the look on his face. It struck me for the first time that O’Connor looked on fraud and deception just like any other business. Everything was a matter of negotiation.

  ‘No chance, O’Connor,’ I said. ‘If you want to say something, you can say it here, in front of the police.’

  I asked the police to take him away. The police stepped in and started to cuff him – at which point my wife appeared, with four of her brothers. She had been worried that something had gone wrong, or that O’Connor’s bodyguard had come to the meeting armed.

  In fact, for a bodyguard, Holdsworth had been very well behaved. He’d sat quietly against the wall and hadn’t interfered.

  Nevertheless, Nanglung’s arrival with her four brothers made me feel a bit more relaxed. You can never trust a Thai cop 100 per cent, especially if there’s money involved.

  I told O’Connor there was no deal. He could either return the money or go to prison. To be honest, I would have preferred if he had opted to go to prison.

  For the first time, O’Connor looked worried. He said he’d give me three million baht. He’d stolen about 20 million. I told him to fuck off and not to insult me.

  He then offered to pay me 11 million baht, saying this was every penny he had. Allowing for what he would have had to spend on the con itself and paying off his partners, I figured he was telling the truth.

  Not wanting to sound desperate, I told him that I’d consider dropping the charges but only after he’d returned the money. Of course, I had no intention of dropping the charges, but I knew that if O’Connor ended up in any police station with pockets full of cash, he would bribe his way to freedom.

  Acting all friendly, he said that I’d have to take him to his bank in Bangkok if I wanted to collect the money myself. No local bank would hand out 11 million baht.

  That left me with a problem. I knew the police couldn’t take O’Connor to Bangkok unless they arrested him. As a warrant was supposed to have been issued in Bangkok for O’Connor’s arrest, their superiors would have to notify the tourist police, and O’Connor would to end up in their hands.

  That was the last thing I needed. After three years of lies and bullshit I knew I couldn’t trust the tourist police – and if O’Connor had paid them once he would do it again. I’d have to bring O’Connor to Bangkok myself.

  * * *

  The plan ran into difficulties from the beginning. The bodyguard, Holdsworth, was the biggest problem. I should have refused to allow him to attend the meeting in the first place.

  Now he was putting me in a difficult position. If I let Holdsworth go, he might phone Bangkok and arrange some unpleasant surprises for me. Or he might call the police.

  I’d have to bring him along. But I reckoned that with my wife’s four brothers accompanying me, I would see no trouble out of him.

  This was my biggest mistake.

  I paid the policemen for their time and they left, saying that if there was any trouble I could call them.

  O’Connor had arrived to the meeting in an old American-style car with a full front seat.

  I got into the driver’s seat, and sandwiched O’Connor between me and one of my companions. Holdsworth sat in the back.

  My wife Nanglung travelled in a pick-up truck driven by one of her brothers.

  The first stop was home. We had to drop Nanglung off to take care of my son. The drive home took a few hours.

  We arrived at my house at 4 p.m. which meant it was too late to drive to Bangkok city. I would have to wait until the morning to withdraw the cash.

  There wasn’t much point in everyone sitting outside my house in cars, so I invited O’Connor and Holdsworth inside until I could figure out what to do.

  In truth, I was falling to pieces. I couldn’t think straight. I knew there was no way I could keep O’Connor and Holdsworth in my home until the next day.

  Knowing my luck, he would have me charged with false imprisonment or kidnapping.

  My wife gave me, O’Connor and Holdsworth a beer each and we began chatting awkwardly. I took the opportunity to ask O’Connor why he had stolen so much money.

  ‘Why didn’t you just take the contracts? You’d still have made a lot of money.’

  O’Connor just shrugged his shoulders.

  ‘Surely to God you knew that for almost half a million dollars somebody would come looking for you?’ I continued.

  ‘Why?’ said O’Connor. ‘Nobody’s ever come looking for me before.’

  He was completely shameless. He just didn’t care.

  He explained that I’d given him and his ‘team’ endless headaches. He said they’d had to put a lot of extra work into the fraud. He said that I was a real professional and obviously knew my stuff.

  He then caught me off guard. What he said next really bowled me over. He actually asked me to join him as a partner.

  ‘Think about it,’ he said, smiling. ‘There’s a lot of money to be made.’

  I could feel an immense inner rage well up inside my body. I wanted to smash his head in with my fists.

  O’Connor had ruined my life. I’d lost my business, my house, my wife Paula and my children – not to mention the $460,000. And here was this bastard asking me if I’d like to do the same to other people.

  He knew by the way I was looking at him that I wanted to attack him there and then.

  I couldn’t listen to his bullshit, so I stood up and walked outside to speak with my wife’s three brothers who were waiting outside on the porch. The youngest brother waited inside with O’Connor and Holdsworth.

  I discussed everything with them and we decided that we would go to Bangkok later that night. I didn’t want them near my wife and my baby boy.

  Instead, we’d wait at O’Connor’s house until the bank opened in the morning. Then I’d go with O’Connor, collect the money, give it to my lawyer in Bangkok, then hand O’Connor over to the police. Without the money O’Conn
or wouldn’t be able to pay them off.

  It seemed like a good plan – and anyway, it was the best that any of us could come up with.

  I went back into the house and told O’Connor and Holdsworth that we were leaving for Bangkok in a couple of hours.

  I wasn’t about to ask Nanglung to cook for these bastards, so I told them, ‘If you want to eat, give me the money and I’ll send someone out for it. You can pay for it yourselves. And another thing. I want money for petrol. I’m not going to fork out to take you scumbags to Bangkok.’

  Actually, I wanted to see how much cash O’Connor was carrying. I didn’t want to give him the chance to bribe anybody.

  Nanglung was deeply worried about the whole plan and wanted to drive with us, but I didn’t think that was a good idea.

  This trip wasn’t exactly a family outing. And although I was terrified, I told her that I’d be all right and not to worry.

  At that time, I couldn’t speak any Thai, so I asked Nanglung to explain again to her brothers what they had to do. She told them to drive to Bangkok and make sure I wasn’t attacked.

  We took O’Connor’s car because it was bigger and more comfortable.

  During the journey, the bodyguard found his voice. Up until then, he hadn’t spoken a word.

  ‘I would really think about going into business with Mitch if I were you,’ he said. ‘He knows what he’s doing. Come on, if he could con you he must be good! Together you’d make millions.’

  Holdsworth was really getting on my nerves. I didn’t want to dignify this shit with an argument, so I told him to shut the fuck up.

  O’Connor and Holdsworth next started asking if we could stop for a piss. It was about another hour’s drive to Bangkok, so I said I’d stop at the first service station. But after another ten minutes they started complaining again.

  Some of the brothers mumbled something about needing to go too, so I pulled over onto the hard shoulder.

  Everyone got out and relieved themselves. My wife’s brothers got back into the car and nodded off to sleep, which is typical of Thai people. If they sit still for five minutes, they’re asleep. This gave O’Connor and Holdsworth the opportunity they were waiting for – to attack me and try to escape.

  I can still recall parts of what happened.

  I remember O’Connor leaning against the open front passenger-side door to my right while Holdsworth was on my left.

  Once I was alone, O’Connor shouted, ‘Now!’

  Holdsworth spun around and came at me. He had a knife.

  I took a quick look at O’Connor, then turned to face the bodyguard. He took a step towards me and slashed at me with his blade. When his arm came out for the swing I stepped in.

  I hit him as hard as I could. I knew that I wouldn’t get a second chance; if he brought the knife down I was dead.

  I reached for his arm with my left hand and belted him in the stomach with my right fist. Then I got him with a head-butt. We rolled down the steep embankment at the edge of the road.

  Holdsworth grabbed me by the throat as I was trying to get up, so I punched him in the nuts.

  He was still landing blows on me – so I hit him, and kept on hitting him until he stopped.

  I thought he was going to kill me. I believed I was going to die.

  When he came at me again, I hit him with every ounce of power I had left. When he fell, he pulled me with him. We both crashed to the ground, and it was over. I’d knocked Holdsworth out.

  I fumbled around in the darkness and managed to scramble to my feet. I cursed the ground that Holdsworth walked on, and made my way back to the car.

  5

  The brothers awoke upon hearing the commotion, and one of them climbed down the embankment to help me up. When I climbed back up to the car, O’Connor was smiling.

  ‘You’re a tough little bastard, aren’t you?’ he said.

  I would have loved to have gone over to him and knocked that bloody smirk off his face, but I just didn’t have the energy.

  My body hurt. I was scratched and bruised all over. My mouth was cut, and my nose was bleeding. There were gashes under and over my left eye, and a slash wound on my left arm. My shirt was ripped and cut to ribbons.

  I looked back down the embankment to see where Holdsworth was. But now there was no sign of him. I asked O’Connor what he wanted to do about his friend.

  There was a spotlight in his car that connected to the cigarette lighter. He plugged it in and shone it down the embankment.

  But we couldn’t find him. We flashed the light back and forth for about ten minutes, but we still couldn’t see him.

  ‘Useless bastard,’ said O’Connor. ‘He’s probably run off to hide in the woods somewhere. Leave him. He’ll be all right.’

  I didn’t care. I wasn’t going to sit there and wait for him to come at me again.

  Everybody got back into the car and we drove on to O’Connor’s house in Bangkok without any further problems. O’Connor was quiet most of the way.

  We parked and went up to the one-bedroom apartment that O’Connor shared with his Thai wife. His wife didn’t seem concerned that he had arrived home with five other men.

  I asked if I could go and wash up because I’d had an ‘accident’. I didn’t mention the fight with the bodyguard, and she didn’t ask.

  I washed my face and hands, and the cuts and bruises, then went back to sit down. O’Connor’s wife brought me a beer and gave O’Connor a large whisky.

  The Thai boys said they didn’t want a drink, but would go and get something to eat. I didn’t object. They hadn’t provided much protection so far.

  Anyway, I didn’t think O’Connor would try any bullshit – not in his own house. The neighbours would call the police if he did.

  With the brothers gone, O’Connor sat down opposite me at the table. He handed me three cheques. Two were in sterling for a total of about £16,000, which he said were from a legitimate business deal. The last one was in the name of Brett Holdsworth, and was for a total of about one million New Zealand dollars.

  This, he explained, was O’Connor’s payment for making Holdsworth a full partner. Apparently the bodyguard wasn’t happy with being only a bodyguard. He wanted part of the action.

  O’Connor said I could hold the cheques as a sign of good faith until we went to the bank in the morning. I took the cheques but didn’t have much faith in any of them getting cashed.

  After a while he asked me if I would like to get a hotel for the night and come back for him in the morning. What a bastard. He honestly thought that I would drop my knickers and let him fuck me again. It had taken me three years to catch him. I wasn’t about to leave and come back in the morning to an empty house.

  I told him that I was a big boy. I would sleep on the floor in front of the door. O’Connor’s apartment was on the fourth floor and the balcony was all fenced in with an iron grate. I knew he couldn’t jump out even if he wanted to.

  There’d been no arguing or fighting since we’d arrived at O’Connor’s place. Both he and his wife had been polite, even friendly, so when his wife said that she would go and buy some food rather than cook herself, I didn’t protest.

  She wasn’t a hostage, and she really had nothing to do with my problems. Besides, I didn’t think she was fully aware of what was going on.

  We didn’t have much more to say to each other. The two of us sat there and watched a video. I was glad to have something to take my mind off the situation.

  O’Connor’s wife had been gone 20 minutes when I heard a knock on the door. I thought it was Nanglung’s four brothers. Or maybe O’Connor’s wife had forgotten her key. As I was sitting near the door I got up to answer it.

  It was the police.

  As I opened the door I stepped back a little into the room. Th
e first police officer moved in quickly and punched me straight in the mouth. Two others came in behind him and grabbed me so I couldn’t move.

  O’Connor was shouting, ‘That’s him, that’s him!’ and pointing at me. ‘Watch him, he’s dangerous!’ he yelled. ‘He’s one of the Irish IRA!’

  Another police officer came in with O’Connor’s wife. He spoke good English and asked me what was going on.

  Apparently, after the wife had left the apartment, she’d called the police and said that I was threatening O’Connor and trespassing in their apartment.

  I calmly explained everything that had happened, including the fact that an arrest warrant had been issued for O’Connor already for stealing the $460,000 – or at least, I hoped it had.

  The police listened, then walked over to O’Connor and handcuffed him. They apologised for the misunderstanding, but said I’d still need to go with them to the police station to identify the fraudster officially. O’Connor was led away kicking and screaming, protesting his innocence.

  * * *

  Unfortunately, as the original complaint had been made to the tourist police, and because O’Connor was a foreigner, everything was handed over to them. And that was where my real troubles began.

  We waited at the police station for some time. Eventually, O’Connor was led away and I was taken into the captain’s office. It was the same officer I’d made the original complaint to three years ago. When he saw me he just smiled, smugly.

  I was glad I had a chance to confront him.

  ‘Why didn’t you arrest O’Connor?’ I asked. ‘He never left Thailand. He was living in the same house, driving the same car, even using the same God damn telephone number!’

  His answer was simple.

  ‘Why didn’t you pay me?’ he said. ‘If you’d paid me I would have arrested him.’

  I could have argued that it was actually his job to arrest criminals, but I didn’t think there was much point. He was corrupt, just like the rest of them.