I sat down on the end of the bed and pulled out another cigarette. Six months of agony to give these up, five days of hell to start again. Mechanically, I tapped the cigarette on the box before reaching for a light. I ripped the cheap cardboard match from the book, last one, damn. The cigarette glowed and I stared at the room. Dozens of cigarette butts scattered around a couple of ashtrays. Glasses and plates sat in unwashed piles on the table. The mini-fridge was open, contents ransacked, along with a couple of full-size bottles of whisky. The bin overflowed with fag packets and take-away boxes. Both the beds were a crumpled mess of twisted, sweat-soaked sheets. I took another drag and pulled the harsh smoke deep into my lungs. I wanted it to fill my mind, cloud my eyes, block it all out.
But nothing seemed to block it out. I pulled the phone towards me by the cord and dialled, ‘Room service; is Pauli there?’
The reply was affirmative and I waited briefly.
‘Yeah, Pauli, it's Bob in 402, bring me some more coffee would you, and some toast or something, oh and a couple more boxes of matches. Leave it outside, same as usual. Thanks.’
Pauli was the only one I'd talk to, and I wouldn't let him in. I was sure I'd lost them when I ran from the drop-off. Christ why had I panicked like that? It was stupid, suspicious as hell. I knew Janac'd think so. Was he out there looking? Whatever, I wasn't taking any chances. I'd registered under a false name, paid cash for a week in advance, spun them a line about working on a project, not to be disturbed - all that stuff. It seemed to have worked. I was still alive.
The panic stricken, logic defeating fear of my flight had slowly fermented into a corrosive, soul destroying paranoia. It was devouring me. Soon there would be nothing left. I had to stop the rot. I went to the shower and turned it on, full blast, maximum cold. I sat on the edge for a while, my back to the torrent, scared of what I would feel when the cold water washed away the numbness. Then I let myself slide backwards into the jet. I gasped, floundering for air. Breath torn away by the chill. But I hadn't the strength to fight it and soon I was quiet. Sitting gazing at the wall, letting the water drive feeling back into my life. Sucking in oxygen, in huge life-giving heaves. I felt so tired. But my mind started to clear a little, pressure was easing, something had cracked and given way and suddenly I felt the exhaustion of the physically driven, not the mentally tortured. I struggled from the shower, pulled off the clothes and left them in the water. I flicked a towel from the rack and tried to find the energy to rub myself down. But it wasn't there. I collapsed onto the bed.
I awoke with a start. Confused, struggling for a time and place. Bright, clean sunlight dazzled through glass windows and doors. A bang on the door, loud. Again. Louder. I tried to speak. I knew I didn't want people in here but I couldn't remember why. The sound of keys, a sudden rush of memory. Flash of fear. I crashed off the bed, scurrying for cover.
‘Jesus wept, what a fucking mess!’ It was Pauli.
‘Get the cleaners up here.’ another voice, ‘No, no, use the phone.’
Slowly I stuck my head up from behind the bed.
‘Mr Smith?’
The speaker was a tall, well-dressed and equally well-spoken man - had to be the manager. By the phone was Pauli. He was a wiry young man, freckles and a cheery smile: an alright kid.
‘I thought I said no one was to come in here.’ I complained, groggily.
‘Hey man, that coffee's been outside there for over twenty four hours, I thought you was dead or something. I had to get the man, I could lose my job.’
Twenty four hours? I glanced at the clock on the bedside table, early morning. Had I really slept for twenty four hours?
‘And,’ the manager was speaking, ‘we don't normally allow guests to er, deteriorate the rooms to this degree. May I suggest that you put some clothes on before the cleaners arrive?’
Pauli fetched a robe from the bathroom and threw it across.
‘I'm sorry about the mess,’ I said, ‘but I had some work to do, it's been a heavy schedule and I must have just crashed out after I delivered it.’ I struggled to think, the manager was scanning the room. There was no sign of any work, of any kind. I looked as suspicious as hell.
‘Mr Smith, this room will be cleaned immediately. May I suggest that you move your luggage across the hall, to room 404. Pauli will bring the key and give you any help you need.’ he snapped his fingers and Pauli trotted from the room. ‘You can remain there for the rest of your stay. I would appreciate it if you could allow the cleaners in on a daily basis from now on. Otherwise we may have to ask you to leave.’ With that he was gone.
Alone again I shut the door and slumped back against it, gazing at the mess. I was attracting attention, not diverting it. But six days now, I was still alive. No sign of them. What the hell was going on out there? I had to know.
There was a bang on the door. I turned and opened it. It was Pauli, he looked apologetic, held out the new key.
‘Hey, I'm sorry man, I really thought something had happened when I came on this morning and saw that food still there.’ his face was creased with a genuine concern.
I smiled to reassure him, ‘Don't worry about it. You did ok, I needed to be woken. Look, I lost my bags on the flight over here, and I guess they haven't found them yet. I have a meeting today. Could you get my clothes washed in an hour or so?’
He smiled, relieved, happy to help, ‘No worries man.’
‘Ok, hang on.’ I went back into the room, found the laundry bag and dumped the sodden mass from the shower into it. ‘There you go,’ I said, handing it over, ‘twenty bucks in it for you if it's done in an hour.’ I glanced at my watch to confirm the time was running.
‘Ok man.’ he was already moving down the hall.
‘Hey, and breakfast, the works, everything, ok?’ I shouted after him.
He turned and waved an acknowledgement, nearly tripping in his haste. ‘Coming right up for room 404.’
I smiled, good kid. I glanced at the key in my hand, and after picking up my passport and wallet, went across the hall and into room 404. I stripped off the robe and stepped into the shower. The breakfast arrived just after I had finished drying, and over a steaming plate of bacon, eggs and the rest, I thought it through. Six days after the drop and no sign of Janac or his men. That meant one of two things. Most likely, they had lost me after the drop off.
They would be looking for me - even if they hadn't found out about the cops possible involvement - my running was suspicious enough for them to want to find me. But it was a big city and I would have to be seriously unlucky for them just to come across me. The second possibility was that they had kept on my trail after the drop-off and were still watching me. Waiting to see if I had run for a reason - or just panicked, which also meant they either didn't know about the cops, or Kate had failed and the cops weren't involved. If they were watching I had to behave as if everything was normal.
The only way to cast any light on this morass of ifs and maybes was to find Kate. I couldn't spend the rest of my life rotting in a hotel room. At least then I could establish whether or not the cops were involved. But I had to be careful I didn't attract any attention to her. If I was going to talk to her I had to do it in such a way that I appeared to be going about my normal business. And it wouldn't hurt to try and be as sure as possible that there was no one watching.
The first step was to get out of this damn hotel, where I was altogether too well known. Pauli was as good as his word. And an hour after he'd got them, he was twenty bucks richer and I had some clean clothes. I left immediately after, without checking out. I had no intention of going back there, but if they were looking for me, I wasn't going to make it easy for them by announcing I had moved on. I left by the back entrance and stepped onto the street nervously. It was already a muggy, cloudy, oppressive kind of day. And it was only ten o'clock. I stood on the steps for a full minute, checking. Only a couple of people walked by, no one in the parked cars, nobody else to pay me any attention. I took a deep breath. It lo
oked safe.
I had got directions from Pauli to the nearest shopping area, and it turned out this was the city centre itself. I headed there ostensibly to buy a few basic things; another map, some more clothes, toiletries and a bag. But it would also give me plenty of opportunity to see if I was being followed. I spent a couple of hours wandering round shops, stopping frequently, checking behind, doubling back, going in front doors and out the side. But trying to do it all in a way that didn't appear as though I was checking. Playing it cool, just out for a little shopping and some air. Nothing. I didn't see or suspect anyone. If I had a tail he was damn good at it. Which certainly hadn't been my experience of the Thai guys before.
Finally I was satisfied. Or at least I couldn't see how any more of it could make me any better satisfied. I found a little pavement cafe and ordered some lunch. Over the meal I found Rushcutter's Bay on the map. It was only a couple of train stops away and I got there quickly, straight after the meal. I walked down the hill and into the park next to the marina. Then skirted round the waterfront till I was on the opposite side of the bay. The park was quiet except for the chirp of insects and the shouts of some children away in the distance. No one around. My head was a little fuzzy, but I felt better than I had for some time, the sleep and a couple of good meals had done the job. I gazed out across the water.
There she was, 'Gold', unmistakeable from the colour. The topsides shimmering in the heat. I found a spot by a tree and settled down to watch. It was a big boat and there were probably twenty people or so on deck. After a while I picked out Kate's mane of hair, the recognition coming with a buzz of pleasure. There had been more than the odd moment when I thought I'd never see her again. The boat was a hive of activity. Stuff being loaded on and off, the deck scrubbed, people working on the winches and gear. Time slipped away. I didn't want to approach in the open unless I had to. I didn't particularly want to talk to her in front of Scott either.
I tried to stay relaxed, lounging against the tree, looking around casually. Smoking the occasional cigarette, just someone enjoying the sunshine. There was no rush, I could afford to wait for the right moment, even if that meant coming back tomorrow. And it didn't look like it was going to be easy to get Kate on her own.
Half an hour later I saw Kate and Scott standing and talking on the aft deck. Hand motions were emphatic, Kate was angry. Some of the others had stopped work and were sitting around drinking bottles. Scott stooped towards an icebox and picked up a can. Kate turned away and, without another word, jumped down onto the pontoon and walked off. Alone.
This could be my chance. I watched her progress down the dock, emerging into the park a couple of minutes later, bag on her shoulder, can in her hand. I glanced back. Scott was sitting with about ten others at the back of the boat, showing no signs of going anywhere. I stubbed out my final cigarette, screwed up the packet and walked slowly across the park, arriving at the road about three hundred yards behind her. She was walking quite quickly, heading uphill, back towards the station. But less than half-way there she turned into the second of a pair of hotels. It was perfect cover. I kept moving and went into the first. Got some smokes from the machine, then made a show of asking about the long-term room rates. Picked up a brochure. Checked the availability. Finally I left and headed next door, she'd had plenty of time. I'd go through the same routine, get the brochure with a phone number, get her room, then call her. But as I pushed through the doors she was only yards away, stalled on the staircase, reading a letter.
‘Martin!’ it was a gasp of total astonishment.
I moved quickly, covering the distance to her in less than a second. I grabbed her hand, pulling her up the stairs and away from prying eyes in the lobby or on the street. ‘Your room, which floor?’
‘This one.’ voice, face confused, ‘Martin, it's...’
‘Let's go. Now!’ I was insistent, electric with the tension.
She hesitated, then turned, we ran down a short corridor and after fumbling with the key and her bag, she opened the door. I hustled her through, slammed it, dropped the dead bolt. I sank my head against the wall. It must be ok, I couldn't be any more careful. But I couldn't stay in here long, I spun round.
Kate was right there, anxious, frightened even, hands to her face, ‘What is it, I thought everything was over?’
It was my turn to look confused, ‘Over, what do you mean?’
‘Alex called a couple of days ago. Said it was alright, you were in the clear, the guys that followed you had lost you, then gone home.’ Understanding came slowly, she carried on, ‘The cops've infiltrated the gang, they don't know where you are, and they don't seem bothered either. I thought it was over. What's happened?’ Her voice was starting to lose its urgency, the fear evaporating, as she saw my face. I was giddy with the relief, unable to believe it was really over, that it could be true. ‘You didn't know?’ she asked.
I shook my head.
Then she was in my arms. Holding on so tight. Words coming in a torrent, ‘God I was so scared for you, I thought I'd never see you again. I didn't realise how much I'd missed you till I thought, I thought...’ a little sob, tears of relief. I still couldn't find any words. The nightmare was finished. We held each other for a long time.
Chapter 11
When she finally pulled away, it was gently, and not very far. She kept hold of my hands. ‘You look awful.’ she said, with an affectionate smile. Then shook her head, ‘I was so scared and worried after that note. It's been impossible to think about anything else. I've just been waiting, hoping you'd get in touch. But terrified every time the phone rang in case it was the police to say...’ she tailed off, gripped my hands tighter. ‘Where have you been? What's been happening?’
I led her over towards the small sofa. She sat down beside me. ‘I've been in a hotel in town, hiding up. I thought I'd probably lost them, so I just kept off the streets.’
‘You look like hell though.’ she laughed. It didn't matter now.
I smiled ruefully, ‘I've been a little anxious.’
She shook her head again, ‘How on earth did it happen, how’d he force you to do it?’
I looked at her carefully, blue eyes unwavering, the blond hair tumbling around a face lit up with concern. I could feel relief being washed away by an incoming tide of new emotions, ‘Oldest trick in the book, used his contacts in the police to set me up on a drugs charge. They came and got me after I returned to my room. I should have stayed away, not gone back there. I just never thought he'd try anything so...’ I shook my head, ‘I had no choice, it was stay there and rot in jail for ever or smuggle the drugs. But after they let me out, the minders were on me so tight I couldn't see how to get help.’ I hesitated, eyes flicking down, it wasn't quite the truth. She'd been the one that changed my mind.
I carried on, staring at the cheap wallpaper, ‘Until I saw you in Bangkok. It was too risky to talk to you, but then I thought of the note. It was my only chance to get a message to the police. I was scared that when I tried to give it to you, I'd have to talk, that the minders would realise I was trying to get you to help. You could have been dragged into it...’
I felt her take my hand again. I looked back at her.
‘It's alright, you did the right thing.’ her voice was soft, sympathetic, ‘We're both here, safe. It all worked, I found the note when we were unpacking. I phoned Alex and he was great, he had it all set-up when I called back. Told me not to worry, I gave him the number here and he said they'd call as soon as they knew anything.’
So they had been there, watching, with cameras and telescopes. And sweaty trigger fingers. ‘And then he phoned again?’
‘Yeah, like I said, told me that the two goons went home.’ she hesitated, ‘He also asked me a couple of times, if you could meet them. They want to ask some questions..’
‘Kate!’ I threw my hands up, anger, but disappointment too.
‘I told him what you said, that there was to be no contact. He said they wouldn't force you to do an
ything. But it would make it a lot easier for them if they could at least take a statement,’ I was shaking my head. ‘What can the danger be now these guys have gone. I don't see why...’ softly, persuasive.
‘No, Kate, you must understand. First a statement, then it's in court, it's public. If Janac ever finds out I've done this he'll hunt me to the ends of the earth. I can't ever see the cops. That was the deal.’
She nodded slowly, but I could tell she wasn't convinced. ‘It's ok Martin, relax, it's over.’ she said quietly.
I swallowed heavily, realising that I'd been shouting, ‘It's over.’ I said it blankly. I shook my head, ‘It's been a hell of a few days. I guess I'm still pretty tense.’ I scratched at my eyebrow, rubbed my forehead. Tried another watery smile.
Slowly, she returned it, ‘It's ok.’ she whispered, ‘it's ok.’
I reached out a hand and stroked a stray lock of hair back behind her ear. It promptly fell loose again. ‘There were a couple of times when I didn't think I was ever going to see you again.’ I said, gently. There was an awkward silence. The only sound was the final sentence of my message to her, creeping quietly closer to the surface. I looked away, staring at nothing. I'd already said it. But I had to say it again, to her face, ‘Kate...’
But she was gone, ‘You need a beer, hey?’ she said, already half-way to the fridge.
I took a breath, the moment lost. Or thrown away. I nodded yes. The top fizzed off, and I took the bottle from her, ‘Thanks.’
She sat down again, but this time opposite me, on the edge of the bed. Legs crossed, beer in her lap, ‘So what will you do now?’
I was surprised. ‘I don't know,’ I shrugged helplessly, lost, ‘I've paid for a couple more nights at the hotel I was at, I guess I can go back there, after that...’ I stopped. I had no idea.
‘I'm going to be pretty busy the next couple of days. But maybe we can get together sometime.’ she said in a neutral voice.
The Defector Page 10