by Ian Andrew
“Did you ‘ear wot I said son?” Tommo asked as he puffed and struggled to sit down on one of the futons, which, even as a two-seater, barely managed to fit his bulk.
Jacob pulled his gaze from the gardens. “Yeah, I know. Ge-,” He stopped himself. “One of the people on the Path, told me how it was.”
“An’ wot you ‘fink of it?”
“I think it’s a good thing. Makes perfect sense. You never know what the police are going to try and pull, so I’ve no problems with it.”
“Good. Good lad. Well said. Anyways, you shouldn’t ‘ave long to be nurse-maid’ed by Mutt and ‘is mates. Jus’ don’t go pissing ‘em off. They’re not what you’d call civilised.” Tommo let out another laugh, then raised his hip and let out a long fart. While still up on one buttock he took out his cigarettes and lighter again. “You might wanna fuck off to yer room before I light up ‘ere. That ripper could blow the ‘ouse up.” Tommo started laughing and coughing again as he waved him away.
Jacob couldn’t imagine a more obnoxious clash than the slob that was Tommo, sitting in this beautifully cultured villa with its wondrous gardens and pool. He forced a laugh and turned to find Mutt standing by the door. Without a word, the security man walked into the hallway, turned right and made his way through to the rear entrance. He stopped and unlocked the door, allowed Jacob to step out, then relocked it.
“Are all the doors locked all the time?” Jacob asked.
Mutt spoke the first words Jacob had heard since meeting him at the airport, “Yes. You heard what Tommo said. While you’re on probation, this place is locked down.”
Mutt’s soft Southern Irish lilt, caused Jacob to reflect on how many nationalities were involved in this network. It sickened and saddened him that humanity could have sunk so low, with the failings so widespread.
The entrance to the next villa along was not quite as elaborate as Tommo’s but it wasn’t shabby by any means. Mutt unlocked, then relocked the door before stepping ahead of Jacob. He walked through the opening to the right. “Lounge, almost the same as next door. Smaller dining table, not as much nice art. No booze. You can ask me to get you some,” Mutt said like a bored tour guide.
Walking to the far side of the room, he approached what Jacob at first thought was a gloss-white recessed panel in the wall. Mutt flipped a cover to access the handle of what could now be seen was a cleverly concealed sliding door. He eased it backwards to reveal a kitchen. Jacob ducked his head into a medium-sized space which looked to be equipped with the basics, but high-end basics. A stainless steel double fridge with built in water and ice dispenser, a dishwasher, four-slice toaster, matching kettle and a block of dimple-handled, single mould, chef’s knives he recognised as being of top-quality Japanese design.
Mutt pushed the sliding door shut and led Jacob back into the hallway. Three doors faced the lounge entrance. Opening each in turn from left to right, Mutt said, “Bedroom with its own bog and shower, main bathroom with another bog and finally, another bedroom. Any questions?”
Jacob looked back into the lounge and through to the pool.
“Am I allowed to go for a swim?”
“Yeah, during the day when me or Bonce or Nasti are with you. Or anytime if Tommo and the others are around.”
“The others? Are the rest of the villas occupied?”
Mutt turned away, “Nah. No one but you and Tommo here now. But when they have their parties, then most of them get full. Anything else?”
“Where do I eat?”
“There’s snacks in the kitchen, but there’s breakfast, lunch and dinner provided by the staff Tommo has come in.”
“How do I get over there?”
“Easy, you just ask me, I’ll be in here,” Mutt said pointing to the bedroom on the right. “Well, me or one of the others. We get to babysit you until Tommo says you’re good.”
Jacob nodded, “Right. I see.”
“Anything else?”
“No, I think that’s it for now.”
“Right, well dinner’s at eight,” Mutt checked his watch, “That’s eighteen minutes, and you’re invited.”
Jacob felt awkward, given who these men were, but he figured he better check, “Is there a dress code?”
Mutt gave a wry smile and pointed down to his T-shirt, shorts and sandals, “Yeah, this is considered formal.”
“Fair enough. I might just go and grab a shower.”
“Okay, but don’t be late. Tommo doesn’t like his meals delayed.”
Jacob took himself and his bags into the main bedroom. He wandered around the room like he was admiring the fixtures, but despite his best efforts, he couldn’t be totally sure there were no surveillance cameras. He decided to leave the phone where it was. Better that than give himself away. He lifted his washbag from his case and went for a shower.
Chapter 30
Eugene dropped down a gear and pulled in just past a bend in the road. Killing the engine but leaving the parking lights on, he joined Dan on the other side of the road. The moonlight, battling the increasing storm clouds, still managed to turn the world pewter.
“We’re not particularly equipped to go dancing into danger,” Eugene said, moving cautiously. The single-width road was lined with a strange mix of grass, trees, dense bush, the occasional shack with corrugated shutters and directly opposite where Dan and Eugene stood, a beautifully ornate medium height wall, in a much sounder state than the dilapidated white one they’d passed. The wall had an intricately carved archway that allowed them to see through to an inner courtyard, gardens and a central building only just visible as the clouds won temporary ascendency against the moon.
“What do you reckon?” Eugene asked.
“Temple maybe. Some of the background Tien sent through had pictures of places like that. Anyway, not going to be an issue, we’re up here,” Dan said and pointed away from the temple, to a dark laneway at their backs.
The narrow road, hemmed in at first by the walls of some adjoining buildings, then by thick clumps of trees and denser bush, was humped in the middle with indented tracks running either side. Its surface was crushed gravel and a thin ditch, filled with rubbish, ran along the right-hand side.
Eugene led off. The lane ran straight for two hundred metres then turned in a relatively sharp left-hand bend.
“Here,” Dan said, pointing across the road to the apex of the curve.
Eugene looked to where his brother was indicating. Apart from having to negotiate the rubbish filled ditch, the lane was now exclusively lined with thick-set trees and low bushes.
“How far on the other side?”
“About thirty metres, maybe forty. Then you’re through to tended lawns and a swimming pool. But that’s all based on the Google imagery and it could well be out of date. According to it, there’s four houses clustered around the pool. The bigger one has the driveway going up to it.”
“How far down the lane till you get to it?” Eugene asked.
“As far again as we’ve just walked. It bends out and around before coming back in on itself.”
“Do you want to try pushing through these trees and see what we can see?”
Dan considered it then shook his head, “No. We’ve no idea how thick this gets and we could end up creating more noise than a rampaging bull. We also have no real idea what’s on the other side. The phone location shows him roughly in that group of houses. Actually it shows him in the middle of the swimming pool, but I guess it’s not that accurate.”
“Okay, so now what?”
Dan checked his watch, “It’s almost nine, Kara and the rest of them are due to arrive in a couple of hours. I reckon we go and book a hotel somewhere close to here and wait for their call.”
ɸ
His dinner plate was taken away by one of the two elderly Balinese ladies who worked as Tommo’s cooks and maids.
“Thank you,” Jacob said.
“Welcome,” the lady said in a sing-song lilt. “I go now Mr Tommo. Wayan will draw your b
ath and tidy up.”
Before she had made it back into the kitchen, similar to the one in Jacob’s villa but much larger, Tommo said, “I told you mate, you don’ need to keep ‘fanking ‘em. They get well paid to be ‘ere. I’m far too generous, if I’m ‘onest. Probably fuckin’ up their whole economy by paying what I do, but it’s all cash, so no tax to worry about. Know wot I mean?”
Jacob fought the desire to tell Tommo to go fuck himself and managed to give a light laugh, “Very good Tommo, nice one.”
The big man reached forward for his cigarettes and lit his third since he’d been at the table. A ring of carelessly flicked ash surrounded a metal ashtray to his right.
“You sure you don’t want one Jakey?”
“Nah I’m good. Maybe see how I feel after being here a while.”
“Good lad, that’s what I like to ‘ere.” Tommo pushed back his chair and looked about the lounge. “So, do ya like me gaff then?”
“I do mate, love it. Must cost a fortune.”
“Nah. cheap-as mate. Well, cheap-as if you know the right people and can slip a few quid their way when you need somefink sorted. Get me drift?”
“Yeah, but still, must have cost. Can I ask you?” Jacob stopped.
Tommo, cigarette halfway to his mouth, frowned, “Ask me wot?”
“How’d you get your money? How’d you manage to get set up here?”
“Aww that? Fuck yes mate, I’ve no secrets. Well, that’s not true now, is it?” he laughed loudly and ended it in a fit of coughing. Jacob waited.
Tommo sniffed and rubbed his arm across his nose. “Nah, it’s okay, I’ll tell ya. I ‘ad to get out of England back in the nineties. Very dodgy goin’ ons so there was and a whole lot of us nearly got snaffled up by the old bill. Flying Squad an’ all sorts came in on it. Like a fuckin’ episode of the Sweeny,” Tommo stopped talking and studied Jacob. “You’re too young to ‘ave watched the Sweeny, ain’t you son?”
Jacob nodded, “Yeah, but my old man told me about it,” he said.
Tommo laughed again, “Ha, very good. You’re all right boy. I ‘fink me an’ you’ll get on like a fuckin’ ‘ouse on fire… Anyways, the old bill did a roundup and I got out to Spain. But I ‘ad names and numbers of a good few people and they was all getting a bit squeaky bum time. There weren’t no Internet nor nuffink back in ‘em days, so they was keen to see me get rid of all their details. Said they could get me out and far away if I’d clean ‘ouse for ‘em. Lose all their information.” Tommo took a long drag on the cigarette and blew the smoke up towards the ceiling. Jacob’s gaze followed its rise and saw the woven ceiling just at that spot was stained a dark yellow.
“So I says,” Tommo continued, “yeah ‘course I will and they puts me in touch with this old geezer in Paris. Long story short turns out he, Serge was his name, fuckin’ dead now like, but back then, turns out he was in charge of this ‘fhing called Flight Paf’. Not only in charge, but Serge was the fuckin’ founder of Flight Paf’ weren’t he. Said he’d set it up back in the seventies to ‘elp some of his mates fuck off after a couple of girls died. Wasn’t like it is now. Back then there was all border patrols and Iron Curtains and the Ruskies gonna nuke everybody. Moving people out of Western Europe was very dodgy. Expensive too. So the Flight Paf’ was like for all the snobs and toffs who could afford it. No way could I get on it normally, but ‘em same type of fuckin’ toffs back in London, wanted me to do ‘em a favour, so they paid. See?”
“Right,” Jacob said, not sure Tommo had managed to answer his original question. He was going to push it, but Tommo stared talking again.
“So I’m there and old Serge says to me that he needs someone at the Asian end of ‘fhings. Says he ‘ad a fella running it out ‘ere but he went and died on ‘im. Says he wanted someone wif’ a bit of street smarts but all the people who used the Flight Paf’ weren’t the right sort.” Tommo took another drag on the cigarette.
“But you were?” Jacob said, as upbeat as he could.
“Yes mate. See, I’d been banged up for bein’ a bit naughty wif’ me fists. I know, I know, you’re ‘fhinking, that fat bastard, really? But see I was a bouncer down in the East End. Fuckin’ very tasty I was. Mutt and his boys are good, but I’d ‘ave skinned them in my day. Fast I was. Still am under all this,” he said and clapped himself on his chest, sending ash flying from the end of the cigarette.
“Anyways, Serge says I’d be set up in a villa. Lump sum cash to get started and I’d be paid for every person comin’ ‘fru on the Paf’. Seemed okay to me. I mean, wot the fuck’s not to like eh?”
“Fuck yeah. Sounds sweet,” Jacob managed to sound envious.
“So, that was me, I was in. But, before I even got a chance to say yes, he says that I’d also ‘ave all the girls I can ‘andle. Free perk. He had lots of contacts up north and over east. Said when they got girls, I’d get sent some. Fuckin’ sweet, like you said. I was in. Been twenty-two years now. Still fuckin’ sweet. Got a bit fatter though. All this good livin’ I’m doin.” He took a last pull on the cigarette and crushed it out in the ashtray.
“Wow! That’s fuckin’ awesome Tommo. You lucked in there didn’t you?” Jacob enthused and then added, “I don’t get it though. You mean they get girls from up north of England and ship them out here?”
Tommo looked perplexed. “Nah, ya daft bastard. Up north of ‘ere. On the island. Over east too. Real fuckin’ remote areas. Couple of head-honchos in some of the villages set up a steady supply. They takes the little fuckers from the families when they get ripe, if you know wot I mean. Still going now all these years later, passed down from father to son like a weird brown mafia. Mind you, no fuckin’ wonder it’s still goin’ ‘cos they use real extreme methods to keep the rest of their people schtum. Makes the Krays look like fuckin’ pussies.”
“That’s some life you fell into, ain’t it?” Jacob said, feeling sick at the sound of it.
“It is and now you’re out ‘ere too you’ll get to reap some of the rewards me old son.”
“But I’m not sure how all of it’s going to work. I mean, I don’t have unlimited cash.”
“Don’t you worry about that Jakey. We ‘ave a whole circle of us out ‘ere. We all ‘elps and we all contributes. We ‘ave some lucrative little sidelines. I mean, you don’t ‘ave to go and work a nine to five nor nuffink. You look like a big boy that can ‘andle yourself. We ‘ave need of that. Sometimes, some of our little dalliances gets out to the public. Police and judges sometimes can’t be bought off, so we need to remind anyone that might be ‘fhinking of telling tales, that talking can be bad for their ‘earts. And their fuckin’ ‘eads.” Tommo leant his bulk on the table and pushed himself up. “But no bovver Jakey. You’ll get to meet all the lads soon enough. But for now, I’m goin’ to go and have me a baff. Always ‘ave one, every night. Add peppermint oils to the water. Lovely. Ever tried that son?”
Jacob stood and shook his head.
“Nah, ya see, more stuff you’ll ‘ave to try out ‘ere. Okay then, fuck off and I’ll see ya tomorra’. MUTT.”
Mutt appeared in the entrance to the hallway.
“Take our boy back to his room.”
ɸ
With the lights off, Jacob folded the duvet back and raised the side of the mattress. The bedframe consisted of a series of bowed slats, tensioned by virtue of being held in slots at the sides and in a central stave that ran the length of the frame. He lifted the mattress onto his shoulder. The iPhone fitted on the central stave and couldn’t fall through the tightly packed slats. He checked the battery and saw it still had 46% showing. Then he gently lowered the mattress back down and got into bed. He tried to close his eyes but the thoughts of the last few days were spinning in his head. He knew that using the phone would decrease its life but he decided it was more important to get the things he’d seen and heard recorded.
Slipping back out of bed he recovered the phone, opened up the notes app and began to type. It was almost two in the mornin
g by the time he’d finished. Detailed descriptions of all the people he had met, the route from Singapore airport to Gerard’s safe house and every detail he had learnt about the operation of the Flight Path. Lastly he added everything Tommo had revealed tonight.
He replaced the phone and lay down. The full implications of what Tommo had said about the remote villages and how they supplied children into a network of vice, played over and over in his mind. He saw his nephew and nieces, happy in their safe and protected childhood. Unless they ever came into contact with men like Tommo, or Gerard or women like Kelsey. For the first time in as long as he could remember, he cried himself to sleep.
Chapter 31
Saturday 28th November.
Kara and Tien were in the back of a second Toyota Kijang. This one, black and newer than Dan and Eugene’s, was parked behind the brothers’ light-golden model. Both cars were two kilometres from the laneway that led down to where the ‘find-my-phone’ app said Eugene’s iPhone was located. Sammi was in the passenger seat and Chaz was behind the wheel. Dinger and Toby were in with the O’Neills.
Tien tested the comms and boosted the amplifier that sat on the third row of seats behind her, “All callsigns, I have it as 03:40”
A series of clicks acknowledged her.
The Gulfstream had touched down at 23:05, slightly later than estimated due to strong headwinds, but the team had arrived completely refreshed. During the flight, the on-board attendants had laid their seats down into fully horizontal beds, dimmed the cabin and nurtured them like they were children in a nursery. After a solid eight hours, they’d been wakened, fed, and allowed to indulge themselves with the in-flight entertainment systems. Sammi had summed up the whole experience most simply by saying it had ruined normal air travel for her, forever.
They’d phoned Dan and Eugene on landing, rendezvoused with them at the hotel Dan had booked them into and spent the last few hours getting ready for what was coming. Toby had inconspicuously distributed the necessary equipment between the two cars so that when they had walked out of the hotel lobby they looked like eight friends, dressed for a night out in the clubs of Kuta.