Mortal Crimes 1

by Various Authors

  Having walked the train a dozen times already, he knew there was a little nook at the backside of the kitchen near the exit to the next car.

  He raced down the passageway, took the sharp left that marked the end of the kitchen, then tucked himself into the nook.

  Five seconds later, Aaron blew past him, then stopped at the car door without opening it. It was easy to imagine what was going through his head. I didn’t hear it open.

  That’s right, Logan thought. You didn’t.

  Aaron’s youth was his downfall. Once he realized he’d been tricked, he whipped around so he could figure out where Logan had hidden. What he didn’t expect was that Logan had silently slipped out of the nook, and was standing two feet behind him.

  “What the hell?” Aaron shouted, jerking back.

  “Aaron Hughes?” Logan asked.

  Aaron’s eyes widened, confirming what Logan had already assumed.

  “Hello, Aaron,” Logan said. “Nice to finally meet you. I’m Logan Harper.”

  Aaron stared at him, confused. “Harper? Harper. You’re…you’re that guy.” Though he had never seen Logan before, he’d obviously heard his name from Ryan or Angie back in Los Angeles.

  “I’m that guy,” Logan confirmed, then hit him in the jaw.

  Aaron stumbled backwards into the wall, and fell to one knee. He wasn’t out, but he was definitely shaken up.

  Logan grabbed his arm and pulled him back to his feet.

  Aaron took a swing, but Logan easily moved out of the way and grabbed Aaron’s wrist, using its momentum to guide the kid’s fist into the wall. There was a satisfying crunch.

  Aaron yelped out in pain, then tried to swing at Logan with his other hand. Logan decided it was time to do him a favor. He twisted Aaron around, then put his arm around the kid’s throat and cut off his air just long enough for Aaron to slip into unconsciousness.

  It really wasn’t a fair fight from the beginning. Logan had had years of military training and experience, plus the element of surprise. Aaron had maybe a year or two as a cocky bastard in high school, and little else.

  It was Aaron’s own fault it had even happened, though. Logan hadn’t wanted to fight him in the first place. Aaron didn’t have to chase him after he’d heard Logan cough. He could have let it go, and assumed Logan was just someone out getting a little fresh air in the middle of the night. It would have sure made a hell of a lot more sense from his point of view than finding the guy who’d been snooping around looking for Elyse back in L.A.

  Logan dragged him down the passageway, and laid him on the floor behind the snack counter. It was only a temporary solution, but it was out of sight in case anyone else came by on a late night stroll.

  He then went and woke Daeng.

  “My turn already?” Daeng said as he opened his eyes.

  “I need your help.”

  “Now?”

  “Yeah. Now would be good.”

  Logan led him back to Aaron. The kid was still lying on the floor, not having moved an inch.

  “Is he dead?”

  “No.”

  Daeng glanced at Logan. “This isn’t exactly keeping a low profile.”

  “I thought we could use this to our advantage.”

  “This should be interesting.”

  “The train’s got to stop again in the next hour or so, right?” Logan said. “I was thinking that might be a good time for Aaron to get off, and forget to get back on. Do you know anyone in this part of the country?”

  “I know people in all parts of the country.”

  Logan had hoped as much. “Someone who could meet us in the middle of the night, and take possession of our friend here?”

  Daeng looked at Aaron for a moment. “That could be arranged.”

  “Excellent.” Between Daeng and Dev, Logan was creating a network of people stashers. Whatever it took, he guessed.

  “His friends are going to come looking for him,” Daeng said.

  Logan shook his head. “Not until morning.”

  “You can’t count on that.”

  “They were drinking, so I gotta think they’re going to be out for a while.”

  “What about him?” Daeng asked. “He wasn’t sleeping.”

  “True,” Logan conceded. “We should put him someplace out of sight until we hand him off. One of the bathrooms would work. And while we’re waiting I’ll see if he’s up for a chat.”

  Daeng let out a quick, low laugh. “I wouldn’t mind having a man like you working with me. Maybe we should talk when we’re done with this.”

  Logan moved around, and got his hands under Aaron’s shoulders. “Help me carry him.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  LOGAN TIED AARON to the toilet with some twine they found behind the snack counter, then closed himself in the bathroom with him. Daeng was still working on finding someone to meet up with them while also standing guard in the passageway in case any of Aaron’s buddies showed up.

  Once Logan was satisfied the kid wouldn’t be able to break his bonds, he slapped him across the face a couple of times. Finally, Aaron groaned, his head lulled back, and his eyes opened.

  When he saw Logan, he tensed. “You have no idea who you’re messing with. Let me go. Now!”

  “You know, Mr. Williams…or was it Mr. Dean? Anyway, one of them said something similar to me when I had them tied up in Santa Monica. And yet, I’m still here.”

  There was a flicker of surprise in Aaron’s eyes.

  “And if I remember correctly,” Logan went on, “your friend Ryan said I should have let him go, too, not long before he died in front of me last night.”

  Aaron couldn’t let that one go. “What are you talking about?”

  Logan shrugged. “He decided not to cooperate.”

  “You’re lying.”

  “Really? Did he show up back at your place on the river after his shift was over? You know the one I mean. That space you sanitized with one of your friends before heading for the train.”

  Aaron stared at him.

  “You left in a cab, dropped your friend off, then took two duffle bags to a deserted building and had them burned. Come on, you remember this, right?”

  Aaron was gaping now.

  “Then that meeting you had in a fourteenth-floor office? And the guy you met with, you know where he went after?”

  “Stop,” Aaron said, his voice a whisper. “They’re going to kill me.”

  “Actually, I’m not going to give them that satisfaction,” Logan told him.

  Aaron stared at him. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean you might die, but it won’t be at their hands. It’s the age-old choice, Aaron. Answer my questions truthfully and you live. Don’t, and I throw you off the train.” Before the kid could respond, Logan added, “You may not believe Ryan’s dead right now, but you’ll certainly believe it the second you’re flying through the air before your head smacks into the ground.” He paused. “Where’s the girl?”

  “I don’t know what you’re—”

  “Don’t be stupid, Aaron. Where is she?”

  Aaron seemed to be assessing his options, so Logan gave him a moment, knowing if he were halfway smart, he’d realize he only had one. Finally, he said, “Chiang Mai. Or should be by now.”

  “How did they get her there?”

  “Drove. By van.”

  That made sense. If they were going to transport her that far, it was the only means they could use that would avoid unnecessary questions. The cleanup crew could just take the overnight train to join them.

  “Why Chiang Mai?”

  Aaron’s mouth twisted like he was trying to keep his lips from parting. With effort, he said, “It’s where the handover is supposed to happen.”

  Logan’s skin grew cold. “What handover?”

  “I don’t know the answer to that. I swear. Mr. Andrews is in charge. I’m just one of the team.”

  Just one of the team. The words made Logan want to belt Aaron as hard as he
could, to hell with whether Aaron would be able to talk again or not. And to hell with whatever damage it would do to Logan’s hand. Aaron was distancing himself from responsibility, and that was something Logan could never stand. But he held it in, pushing his anger down to where he could save it for later, if needed.

  “What time is this supposed to happen?” he asked.

  “Sometime tomorrow…uh…I mean, later today. I don’t know the exact time. We’re getting picked up at the station, and then we’re supposed to go help get things ready.”

  “Where?”

  Aaron shook his head. “Only Mr. Andrews knows.”

  “Where?” Logan repeated, his hand clenching into a fist.

  “I don’t know! I swear to God!”

  As annoyed as Logan felt, he was pretty sure Aaron was telling the truth. “At the meeting on your way to the train station, what did the man give you?”

  “Give me?”

  “Don’t even try to lie. We were watching, remember?”

  “An envelope,” Aaron said quickly. “He gave me an envelope.”

  “What was inside it?”

  “I have no idea.”

  “You didn’t look?”

  “Why should I? It’s not for me.”

  “Who’s it for, then?”

  “Mr. Andrews. I’m supposed to give it to him when I see him.”

  “Where is it now?”

  “In…in my cabin.”

  “Where exactly?”

  “The front pocket of my backpack.”

  Logan made him describe the backpack, then go over everything again just in case he could catch him in a lie or shake something new loose. But Aaron’s answers remained the same. A few minutes later, there was a knock on the door.

  “It’s me,” Daeng said.

  Logan opened it a crack.

  “We’re nearing the station.”

  “You got someone to meet him?” Logan asked.

  “All set.”

  “How long until we get there?”

  “Five minutes.”

  Logan shut the door, and turned back to Aaron. “Sorry,” he said.

  “Sorry about what?”

  A moment later, Aaron was unconscious again.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  THE OFFLOADING OF Aaron went smoothly. Afterwards, Logan and Daeng got a few hours of sleep, then woke early, and were sitting in the dining car just a little past 6 a.m.

  Daeng ordered a bowl of noodles, while Logan went with only coffee.

  “So you still want to try it,” Daeng said, once Logan had gone back over the plan they sketched out after they’d gotten rid of Aaron.

  Logan nodded. “It could be important.”

  “It could also cause problems.”

  “I’m trusting that you’ll be able to keep that from happening.”

  Daeng grunted, but said nothing else.

  For the next half hour, Logan did little more than stare out the window at the tropical jungle that covered the hills around them. The train was moving slowly now, the upward climb a challenge for the engine.

  As he was contemplating getting another cup of coffee, Daeng said softly, “Here they come.”

  Logan casually raised his empty cup to his lips, pretending to take a final drink, while Daeng focused on what little was left in his bowl of noodles. From the corner of his eye, Logan could see two people walking past their table, then suddenly stopping.

  “You’re the guy who helped me last night, aren’t you?” a voice asked.

  Logan looked over. The man who spoke was the guy Logan had helped by playing doorman. Standing next to him was the other member of their group.

  “Hey,” Logan said, smiling. “Beer guy, right?”

  “Yeah,” the man replied, no humor in his voice. “We’re looking for a friend of ours. Wondering if you might have seen him.”

  Logan kept the smile on his face, staying in friendly-tourist mode. “How much did you guys have to drink?”

  “He’s in his early twenties,” the man said, ignoring the comment. “About my height. Short brown hair. White guy.”

  Logan paused like he was thinking. “There’ve been a few people like that in here this morning, but most headed toward the back of the train when they left. Was he traveling back there?”

  “No.”

  “Hmmm.” Logan shrugged. “Sorry. I guess not.”

  “What about your friend?” the other guy asked, looking at Daeng.

  “Oh, uh, I’m not even sure he speaks English.” To Daeng, Logan said, “Do you understand?”

  Daeng glanced up from his bowl. “No speak good,” he said, his accent thick.

  “You see another white guy like me? Younger?” Logan asked.

  “Farang everywhere on train. Many. Many.”

  Logan turned back to the men. “I don’t think he’s going to be much help. Your friend’s probably at the end of the train, hanging out with the backpackers.”

  “Thanks,” the guy said.

  “No problem.”

  As soon as they passed the snack counter and disappeared down the passageway, Logan was up and heading toward the front of the train. Daeng, per their plan, stayed right where he was.

  Logan moved quickly through first class until he reached the door to Aaron’s cabin. There was no lock, so it slid open easily when he pushed on the handle. The curtain was already drawn across the window in the door, so he was able to work without being watched.

  There were only two berths in the room. That surprised him. Counting Aaron, there were three of them. Logan located all the luggage, but there was no backpack. He was sure Aaron hadn’t lied to him about that. So where was it?

  He quickly went through each bag anyway, but the envelope wasn’t in any of them.

  Standing up, he frowned. Two beds, three people, with beds barely big enough for even one.

  They must have another cabin. There was no other explanation.

  He was about to head back into the hallway when he realized there was a door in the sidewall. If he’d noticed it earlier, his mind must have written it off as the entrance to an en suite bathroom. But now, he realized, that didn’t make any sense at all. There was a toilet and sink at the end of every car. Having one in a cabin would take up too much space.

  He tried the door. It was unlocked so he stepped through, and found himself in the neighboring cabin. Here only one berth had been used. And the bag on the floor was a black backpack, exactly like the one Aaron had described.

  As Logan took a step toward it, he heard the front door to the other room start to open. Quickly, he shut the adjoining door, then went to the backpack and zipped open the front pocket. The large, rectangular envelope was right inside.

  Grab it and go! A voice in his mind told him.

  But he knew that might be a mistake. What was in this envelope might not be that important, yet could cause problems if it went missing.

  He shot a quick glance at the door, then unclasped the flap and slipped the contents halfway out.

  In the other cabin, he could hear someone moving around, but no voices.

  The envelope held two packets of papers, each stapled in the top corner. The language the documents were written in used a whole different alphabet than English. And though he’d only been in Thailand a short time, he’d seen enough Thai script to know this document wasn’t written in Thai, either. He looked at the second packet. It was hard to tell for sure, but he got the feeling that it was a duplicate of the first.

  Making a split-second decision, he sealed one of the packets back in the envelope, and returned it to the backpack. The other he kept. He then headed for the door that opened to the public passageway.

  He paused, listening. Whoever was in the other room was still there. As carefully as he could, he slid the main door open and stepped out.

  Two minutes later, he walked back into the dining car. Daeng was talking to the man Logan had helped the night before, but the other guy wasn’t around. Without looki
ng, Logan rolled the document into a tube, concealing the words written on it, and walked up.

  “Find your friend?” he asked.

  The man turned quickly, then relaxed when he saw Logan. “Not yet.”

  “Have you talked to the porters? They could probably help.”

  “Thanks,” he said, in a way that told Logan they’d already done that. The man looked at Daeng. “Thank you, too, for trying to help.”

  “I keep eyes open, okay,” Daeng said. “If see, I tell.”

  “Thanks.”

  The man headed toward first class. As soon as Logan was sure he’d left the car, he said, “I thought you were going to try to keep both of them away.”

  “I’m sorry. The other one shot right past me. I take it he didn’t see you.”

  Logan shook his head.

  Daeng looked at the paper in his hand. “You took it?”

  “There were two. I think they’re the same thing, but I have no idea what they say.”

  He unrolled it, and handed it to Daeng.

  After glancing at the first page, Daeng said, “This is in Burmese.”

  “Can you read it?”

  “Not quickly, but yes.” Daeng scanned it for a moment. “It’s some kind of contract. A lease, I think.”

  “You mean like for a building?”

  Daeng read some more, then shook his head. “Like for oil rights.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

  THE TRAIN PULLED into Chiang Mai at 9:40 a.m. Daeng got off ahead of the crowd and headed straight into the station, while Logan let several passengers exit before he stepped onto the long platform.

  With the population of Chiang Mai nowhere near the ten million that lived in Bangkok, it was no surprise that its train station was much smaller than the one in the nation’s capital. Logan guessed the red-roofed main building would probably fit entirely within the central hall of Hualamphong. But compared to the stations they’d stopped at throughout the night, Chiang Mai’s was huge.