by Lee Weeks
‘You okay?’ He examined Lucas’s face. It looked grey. The blood had left his face and he had messed himself. There was a foul sulphuric smell. ‘Lucas?’ Lucas stood but his legs were buckling. He looked in a lot of pain as he clutched his stomach and turned away to vomit. It was bright with blood.
Weasel picked up another stick and started poking Lucas in his back as he was bent double. When he finished there was blood smeared across his hand as he wiped his mouth. Jake grabbed the end of the stick and wrenched it out of Weasel’s hand. Weasel’s face contorted in anger as he took one long stride to reach Jake and he began to shout, his words a torrent of rage. He spat into Jake’s face as he took hold of his throat and squeezed it, and began whimpering softly like an excited puppy. The expression on his face turned to desire as, with his left hand, he reached down and cradled Jake’s testicles before he began to twist and squeeze and pant like a rabid dog.
Toad finished talking to Saw, then he pushed Weasel away from Jake and stepped between them as he looked down at Lucas. He stared at him and then he said something that made Weasel laugh as he pointed to Lucas. He shouted something to one of the men and the bags were pulled off the mule’s back and it was led forward, its back shining with sweat.
Toad picked Lucas up as if he weighed nothing, although Lucas was a foot taller than him, and he dumped him onto the animal’s back. It stood patiently waiting, taking the opportunity to eat the young shoots that sprung from the forest floor.
Saw was coming up behind them. Jake felt his fingers tingle with adrenalin and his guts twist. Saw stopped at Anna. Anna stared back. Jake admired her for her courage. She was always defiant. Saw walked past Silke and Jake’s breath caught in his throat as he watched Saw pull at her clothing. He saw Thomas twisting the piece of wood in his hand. He hadn’t been able to drop it without attracting attention. Jake looked at him. Thomas glared back as if begging Jake to let him try. Jake shook his head and his eyes dropped to the piece of wood in Thomas’s hand. Thomas let it fall.
Silke flinched away from him and Saw’s eyes rested on Jake. For a minute Jake thought he knew everything. He knew about the failed escape attempt.
Saw spoke to Toad before turning to Jake.
‘Friend?’ Saw gave his men a sidelong glance as he sneered and pointed towards Lucas. ‘Friend?’ He repeated it and pointed again towards Lucas as if the word conjured up a ridiculous image.
Jake nodded. Saw turned to Weasel and grinned. Weasel giggled and mimicked Jake. ‘Friend. Friend.’ He wiggled his hips like a woman.
‘Friend sick—maybe fall from mule, huh?’ Jake didn’t answer. He knew that it was best to keep quiet. Saw wasn’t looking for conversation. Saw jabbed him to make Jake look at him again. ‘Soon, come Steep Pass—only room for one person.’ Saw looked back at his men; he was speaking to the audience, not to Jake. ‘Your friend fall, I think?’ He called to Handsome to pass him some rope. As the mule looked at him incuriously, Saw tied the rope around Jake’s waist and looped the other end around Lucas; pinning Lucas’s arms around the mule’s neck, he secured them together. Jake’s side was pressed against the mule and he would struggle both to keep up and to avoid catching his legs in the mule’s hooves. His body would get in the way on the narrow path. Beside him the steep ravine plummeted and, below, the tops of the teak trees seemed a long way off.
‘He fall—you fall. He friend? You keep him alive.’
Saw laughed and his men whooped and seemed to walk with a new energy as they dragged their captives onward.
Saw stopped by Anna and looked back at Jake and grinned—his mouth dark red, he spat phlegm into Jake’s path. He looked Anna up and down and nodded knowingly in Jake’s direction as if he knew that they were lovers. Saw did know. His animal senses detected every weakness, every failing. His perception of the world was animalistic. He smelt her body on Jake. He smelt her sex. Saw walked back past Jake, fixed him with his black eyes as he grinned, leaned towards Jake as if about to strike him, then slapped the mule hard on its rump.
19
Mann waited whilst Ng ticked off his preferences from the dim sum menu. Bamboo baskets full of steamed dumplings were already arriving before he’d finished his order in the small side street café in Western District.
‘Thanks for meeting me, Ng.’
‘What is it you need, Genghis?’ Ng and Mann had known one another for so many years that Mann had come to regard Ng as his friend, not just his colleague. Ng named him Genghis because in his youth he had looked like a wild man. Nowadays Mann was more groomed but inside he was the same lost soul. Ng was full of wisdom, both street and ancient. He knew the world and its failings. Ng saw the broad picture. He didn’t have Mann’s hot-headed temper. Ng was calm—a deliberator and negotiator. They had seen one another through difficult times. When Mann’s world collapsed after Helen was murdered, Ng was the one who Mann leant on, and when Ng needed back-up Mann was the first to risk his life for his friend. Mann trusted his opinion. Ng looked at him now with his puppy dog eyes. ‘It looks like you haven’t slept recently. You should cut down on the gym and eat more.’
‘I’m all right. I went away for a couple of days. I’ve got jetlag, that’s all.’
‘No, it isn’t. You haven’t been all right for a long time now, Genghis. It is five years since I saw you happy. You need to get yourself a woman. Did you ever get back in contact with that Eurasian girl?’
‘Georgina?’
‘Yes! That’s the girl. She was just right for you.’
‘She went back to England, as you know. She wanted to go home; she’d been through a lot.’
‘You could have stopped her.’
‘Wrong time, wrong place, Ng. Anyway…’ Mann shook his head. ‘That’s what it always comes down to for you—food and females. The last thing I need is someone who needs me, Ng. I can’t give it the time or the dedication. I’m strictly a single man, in love with his work.’ Mann smiled.
‘Huh…I thought being single was supposed to be fun. You don’t look like you’re having fun. You haven’t taken any time off since that investigation in the Philippines, that’s over a year now. Take some time off, go lie in the sun, go wave riding—what’s it called, surfing?’
‘Yeah, maybe you’re right…’ Mann smiled and rolled his eyes in defeat. ‘I’ve had a lot on my mind. Actually, I have put in for some leave starting tomorrow, but it’s unpaid.’
Ng lifted the tops from the dim sum baskets and began piling dumplings onto Mann’s plate. Mann put his hand up to stop him.
‘Eat,’ Ng said, as he filled his own plate. ‘Where are you going? Back to the Philippines?’
‘Thailand.’
Ng looked at him and almost choked. ‘You mad? No one is going to Thailand at the moment. Those kids were kidnapped, they haven’t been released. It’s not safe.’
‘Those kids are why I’m going. I found out something about my father. I got an email from a Dutch woman, Magda. She told me she and my father were…lovers. Not just lovers, they had kids together. One of them is one of the kids who’s been kidnapped. I am telling you this, Ng, because I trust you to keep it to yourself. Mum would hate the whole world knowing.’
Ng looked confused. ‘Did your mother know all this?’
Mann nodded. ‘She found out after my father was murdered, when Deming’s will was read.’
Ng stopped eating, placed his chopsticks on their holder and thought for a few minutes.
‘That’s very sad, Genghis. Sad for everyone. But what does the Dutch woman expect you to do, exactly? Things are kicking off in Thailand and Burma. It’s not a safe place to go right now.’
‘If I go soon, I will be okay. I will always be able to get out overland and by boat.’
‘I read the latest on the kids—they say they are almost certain to have crossed into Laos. It’s a mess out there.’
‘I can at least investigate what actually happened. The parents are being told nothing. I am going to take a day here to get all I n
eed and then I fly to Chiang Mai tomorrow and follow their footsteps until I get to the jungle and then we’ll see.’
‘What do you know about tracking kids through jungles?’ Ng stuffed a dumpling into his mouth.
‘Thanks for the vote of confidence, Ng.’ Mann grinned at his old friend. ‘Don’t hold back.’
Ng gulped down some water.
‘I am just concerned, that’s all.’
‘I know, and you’re right; it’s new territory for me—all of it—but I am hoping to buy myself some help along the way.’ Mann looked across at Ng. He knew by the look on Ng’s face that, although he would always support Mann, he didn’t think Mann should go. ‘In reality, I have no choice. The fact that he is my brother makes this a situation I cannot ignore. I am glad she came to me. It makes me feel somehow good. I can’t explain it—I feel as if I have some purpose to my life again. I might be able to uncover more about my father and I might fill up some of the emptiness I feel inside.’ He smiled, embarrassed. Although he was close to Ng, he wasn’t one for sharing confidences or pouring out his heart. ‘Anyway, I can go out there and talk to people, suss out what happened. I might not be an expert at trekking through jungles but I am sure I can find someone who is.’
‘This is totally out of your depth, Genghis, but okay. You will need help and you will have it. I will get Shrimp working on it.’
‘Thanks, Ng. I knew I could count on you. I need you to do something else for me…I need you to investigate my father. I need to know what he was doing in Amsterdam. I need some closure on all of this, Ng. This has made me realise that I don’t want to spend the rest of my life searching for answers. I want to move on.’
‘You may never know the truth, Mann. Sometimes we have to accept and leave it there.’ Ng shook his head. ‘Life isn’t that black or white. People are not just parents, they are flesh and blood. Men are built to sow their seed.’
‘Maybe, or maybe it was love. The last summer I spent with my father was great. It was the happiest I had ever seen him. He seemed different, quick to laugh. He seemed like he wanted to get close to me. The night when I came back to the house and found him being tortured, when I saw him executed, I accepted that he was a brave man who had died because he wouldn’t pay money to triads. But, do you know what, Ng? I don’t even know who he was. Everything I believed in is gone.’
20
Magda had gone to bed ages before and Alfie was still waiting for Katrien to sign on to her messenger account. He was getting stir crazy staring at the screen. The camera wasn’t a tracker. He only got to see her when she was sitting at the monitor; he was hoping that would be enough. He had sound, he had visual; now all he needed was for her to log on.
At midnight katcream69 was online and typing. She was sitting in her bra and pants. The webcam box was too small for him to see who she was looking at. He couldn’t log in at the same time as her. It would cut her off if he did that. She seemed to be waiting and then she leant forward and looked into the webcam.
‘Have you missed me?’ Her voice was childlike, soft. There was no audible reply. Someone was typing. ‘I know, it won’t be long now, my love, and we will be together, just you and me and everything we have ever dreamed of…nothing will separate us then. No, there isn’t enough money. We need to do this. It has to be this way, believe me, it will be worth it. We all have our part to play in it. You know what yours is, my love. He is coming out to you soon. Watch him, stay with him. Keep in touch. I need to know where he is all the time.’
‘If you have to, yes. You’ve killed before and you can do it again. I was right then, wasn’t I? I am right now too. Remember, you can’t trust anyone but me. I’ve always been there for you. Of course I love you, baby. I love the way you kiss me. I love the way you taste.’
Alfie watched her shoulders rise and fall. She was playing with herself. He couldn’t help feeling that she probably gave herself more satisfaction than any man could. ‘Remember, baby, they’re all against you, it’s just you and me till the end.’ She was getting excited now; Alfie listened to her moaning as she writhed in the chair and brought herself to orgasm. Then she blew a kiss into the webcam.
‘Remember, baby. it’s just you and me against the world, like it always has been, since we were kids.’
As she signed off, Alfie heard her talking to someone else; she was now out of camera range. He heard another voice in the room—it was a woman’s.
21
‘I just want to know, that’s all.’
Mann was waiting for his mother to answer. He made her sit whilst they talked. It was all too easy for her to avoid it otherwise. She sat opposite him in the lounge on the white, French furniture, ornate, never meant to be comfortable. It was nothing like they used to have. She had got rid of all of that. Behind her were photos of Mann with his father on the sideboard in silver frames. Molly had moved into the small flat after Deming died and the furniture from the big house had been culled, but still the room seemed overcrowded and the furniture out of keeping in its new surroundings. Then, Mann hadn’t understood why she had to downscale quite so much; now he did. The whole area had an air of ‘seen better times’ about it. As much as Mann kept nagging her, Molly never once spent the money she had sitting in the bank. Now he knew why.
She did not look at her son. He didn’t mind waiting. He was used to waiting for her to say what it was that was bothering her. He knew this was her least favourite scenario, being forced into talking about a subject she’d rather never mention.
Mann sipped his tea and watched her. Her shoulders were narrow and stiff. Her hair was wound in a silver and pewter coil, and secured with an antique tortoiseshell clasp. She was getting thinner in her old age, but still upright as she sat perched on the edge of the chaise longue, as if there was a rod up her back, but the flesh on her arms was thinned and freckled with the sun damage. Her hands were long and graceful but papery thin. Mann put his cup down on the lace doily on one of a set of three mahogany side tables, and he sat back in the narrow, tall-backed armchair. Ginger, the cat, came to sit in front of Molly, waiting for a sign that it was allowed to jump onto her lap, waiting for her to sit back and make space. Molly put her cup down and gave an exaggerated sigh.
‘I don’t see what the point is in unearthing all these things about your father. He was a man like any other. He had his faults and his virtues. Why do we have to do it now?’
Mann looked at her; he could see she was trembling. He felt sorry for her and he spoke gently. ‘Because it affects us now. Because, if they are not dealt with, secrets have a habit of reappearing, don’t they? Nothing stays hidden forever.’
‘It should have done. Why did we have to know about it? What business is it of ours? Your father made a mistake.’ She was getting prickly. Ginger sensed it and backed off. ‘We shouldn’t let it ruin our lives. He has been dead for nineteen years. You spend too much time thinking about things like how he died. Who ordered his death? You waste your energy on things that cannot be answered and, even if they could, it would make no difference, it would not bring him back. You should stop thinking about these things, son, and move on. Put them behind you.’
‘I won’t give up the search for Dad’s killer, Mum, I can’t do that. I live with the image of his death cemented in my brain. But I realise now that I hardly even knew him. Now it turns out that he had secrets that affect us all and they might explain his death. I need to know them. I have a right to know them—everything, good and bad.’
Mann paused for a minute. He knew he was on tricky ground. If he pushed his mother too hard he would never get her to cooperate. She was better at building walls than any construction worker. She had turned her attention out towards the balcony where a bird had come to feed from the bird table. ‘Mum, I know it’s hard for you but it’s too late to undo what’s done. I don’t know about you but I would rather not sit around and wait for that to unfold. I’m not too keen on surprises.’ He saw her shoulders rise and fall and he knew she was
trying hard to be calm. ‘There was a time, not so long ago, that you wanted to talk about things. You mentioned that your relationship, your marriage wasn’t so good.’
‘That was before all this came up.’ She snapped back. ‘I don’t see why she had to contact us. The children are nothing to do with us.’ There was no anger in her voice, just exasperation and sadness. Mann could see she was upset. She started fiddling with the hem of her beige Marks and Spencer’s cardigan that he had bought her last Christmas.
‘You had no idea that he had someone else?’
She shook her head.
‘You want to know my secrets? Then I will tell you…I was unlucky in love.’ She smiled sadly. ‘I picked the wrong man.’
She got up and went to watch the bird feeding on the crumbs she had left on the bird table.
‘I was pretty. I was wealthy. I was educated. I had grown up with an idea of marrying well. When I was nineteen I got engaged to someone but he jilted me. He never loved me. He broke my heart. He took my father for a lot of money. There was a lot of shame also because I was pregnant. I lost the child. But it was still a huge disgrace and my parents sent me to Hong Kong to stay with a cousin out here to recover.’ She gave a quiet, cynical laugh. ‘They had no idea how the colonials lived out here or what kind of girl my cousin was. They thought she had a decent job out here; in reality, she hardly worked. She spent most of her time partying. She was racy for that time. She smoked, she drank. She was part of the “in set”. I experienced a new type of people and I was introduced to your father. He seemed so quiet and respectful. We courted. I had known him for two months when he proposed and I accepted. I hardly knew him. I certainly did not know what life I would have here. I did not belong to Eleanor’s party set. I was married to a Chinese. It was not right for either of us, not in those days of snobbery and racism; even in Hong Kong both sides kept their distance. It was an insult to be mixed race. I had no idea that my life would be so lonely. When you were born I was so happy, I didn’t care what anyone thought any more. But, so soon, it came to be time to send you to school and your father insisted you went to England.’ Molly sighed heavily. ‘But a part of me died. I felt as if I’d lost you forever. I wanted to go back with you, to England, but Deming wouldn’t allow it. My place was with my husband. My heart broke to let you go. My life was intolerable without you in it. Oh, he was kind enough to me but I was just a trophy wife to him. I had settled for respect, thinking it would become love but it never did. It must have been the same for him. That’s why he looked for love elsewhere, I suppose.’