by DV Berkom
She stowed her carry-on bag in the closet and stopped to check behind the nightstand next to the bed. As expected, she found a package taped to the back. She slit open the wrapping to reveal a 9mm semiautomatic with two full magazines. Slipping the gun into the front of her waistband, she took the elevator to the lobby and headed for the hostel where Kylie had been seen last.
Leine walked into the bright, air-conditioned entrance of the Happy Day Hostel and was greeted by vibrant green and pink painted walls and dozens of potted tropical plants sprawling across the large picture window. A bookcase overflowing with paperbacks ran along one of the walls, and a huge corkboard sprouted dozens of pushpins holding up business cards, colorful flyers, and handwritten notes.
An older woman with short gray hair and dangly earrings looked up from behind the desk and smiled. “Welcome to Happy Day. May I help you?”
She had a British accent and intelligent brown eyes. Her name tag read Wilma. Leine returned the smile.
“Leine Basso. I’m a friend of Kylie Nelson’s family. I believe Mindy Nelson told you I’d be coming?”
Wilma’s expression turned somber, accentuating the slight etching of crow’s feet surrounding her eyes.
“Yes. We’ve been expecting you.” Wilma turned toward the open doorway behind her. “Alak,” she called. A young, dark-haired man stuck his head through the doorway and smiled.
“Yes?”
“Would you mind watching the front desk while I take Miss Basso back to look over Kylie’s things?”
Alak’s smile disappeared and he nodded. “Of course.” He looked at Leine, concern evident on his face. “We worry about Kylie. She not be here for many days.”
“Thank you, Alak.” Wilma came around the side of the counter and motioned for Leine to follow her.
“How long has Kylie been gone?” Leine asked as they walked down a long hallway, past several rooms. Some had bunk-style beds, while others had one or two singles. Everything was clean and bright.
“Since the first,” Wilma replied. “Which wouldn’t be unusual, except that she left all her belongings.”
They passed one room with a heavily tattooed man lying on a cot. Heavy metal music blasted from a small speaker connected to his iPhone. Wilma rapped on the open door and he glanced up, startled.
“Angus, remember what we talked about?”
Angus nodded, a sheepish smile on his face as he plugged in his earphones, silencing the music.
Wilma smiled and continued down the hall. “We’ve had a few words with him about the volume of his music. Otherwise, it’s quiet here. Our guests are normally quite accommodating and polite.”
“How was Kylie before she disappeared?” Kylie’s mother had mentioned the young woman’s change from a vibrant, witty, smart-aleck to a depressed and sullen loner after her brother died. Leine supposed suicide was a possibility, but the idea didn’t feel right.
“Oh, you know. One day she was a complete chatterbox, and the next she would hardly leave her room.” Wilma shook her head. “We stayed up talking late into the evening a day or two after she’d arrived. I know about her brother and why she chose to come to Thailand by herself. The day before she vanished she seemed to be doing well.”
They stopped near a door marked Lockers. Wilma opened it and flicked the light on, motioning for Leine to walk through. The walls of the narrow room were lined with brightly painted metal lockers, each with a padlock. A long bench dissected the room.
“When Kylie didn’t return after a week, I gathered up her things and placed them inside a storage bin.” Wilma pulled a keychain from her front pocket as she walked over to one of the lockers, inserted the key, and snapped the lock open. Removing it, she swung the door wide and stepped back, giving Leine access. “I went over the security tape for that night a dozen times. Two sisters from New Zealand came back around five in the morning. There was no sign of Kylie.”
Leine methodically looked through Kylie’s things, pausing when she found something interesting—a postcard of a temple in Bangkok addressed to her parents, and a small notebook with several handwritten pages that she assumed was a diary. She placed everything in a shopping bag Wilma provided and shut the locker.
“Did she hang out with anyone in particular, or was she more of a loner?”
“That depended on how she was feeling. The night she disappeared, she was with the twin sisters from New Zealand I mentioned earlier, although they’ve moved on. I believe they left a forwarding address. I can find it, if you’d like.”
“That would be helpful. Anyone else?”
“I believe Charlie was there that night, too. Oh, and of course Alak.”
“Charlie?” Leine asked.
“He’s a local tour guide we often recommend. And you met Alak out front.”
“I’d like to speak with both of them, if possible.”
“Certainly. Charlie’s giving a tour at the moment, but he’s due back in a couple of hours. You’re welcome to speak to Alak right now. The girls from New Zealand mentioned they saw Kylie leave the bar with him.”
Wilma led Leine back to the lobby and introduced her to Alak. Leine asked him if he’d like to grab a drink and he agreed.
They found a quiet sidewalk café not far from the hostel. Leine ordered a club soda with lime and Alak ordered a Singha. Leine made small talk with him until their drinks arrived, all the while surreptitiously sizing him up. On the surface, he appeared calm and friendly, but Leine sensed a jumpy undercurrent. Maybe he was nervous in the company of strangers, but she didn’t think so. He lifted the beer to his lips and his hand trembled. It wasn’t much, but coupled with his nervous energy it was enough to take seriously. Leine studied him for more tells and at the same time tried to put him off balance.
“Wilma said you left the bar with Kylie. Where did you and she part company?”
Alak took a long pull of his beer before answering.
“We take taxi back. She got out and I not tired, so I decide to party at friend’s house.”
“How did she seem to you?”
“What you mean?” he asked. He had another drink and set the bottle down in front of him. His leg jiggled under the table.
“I mean, was she drunk? Having a hard time walking?”
Alak nodded, concentrating on peeling the label off his beer. “She had much alcohol.”
“Then why didn’t you help her back to her room? Seems it would have been the gentlemanly thing to do.” Leine watched him closely.
A flicker of anger crossed Alak’s face. “She not ask me for help.”
“If she was obviously impaired, I’d think you’d want to make sure she made it back all right.”
“She did.” Alak glared sullenly at the tiny pieces of foil on the table. “I see her.”
“Wilma said there was no evidence of Kylie returning to the hostel. The security cameras only show the sisters from New Zealand coming back around five that morning.”
Leine kept her gaze steady. Alak returned the look. This time the anger in his eyes was unmistakable.
“I not know what happen. Like I say before, I go to party at friend’s house.”
Alak’s demeanor had changed to one of suspicion, and his command of the English language appeared to be degrading. She was beginning to get to him.
“You know what I think happened? I think that you helped her into a taxi with the intention of having sex with her, but when she refused you had the driver stop and then made her get out.”
“No,” Alak shot back, shaking his head. Tiny beads of sweat appeared on his upper lip, which he wiped away with his shirt sleeve. “That—that not how it happen.” He took another swig of his beer and set it down with a little too much force. Foam bubbled over the top of the bottle and dribbled down the neck. He crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair.
“It’s what I’m going to tell the police when I file the report. In fact, I’m so convinced that you were the direct cause of Kylie’s disappearance th
at I’m going to offer your name as the main suspect.” Leine held his gaze.
Alak broke the stare first, his left leg bouncing as he looked everywhere except at Leine. She slid the gun from her waistband and, keeping her hand under the table, casually aimed it at his groin. His gaze cut to the barrel and he visibly blanched.
His expression was a marquee of emotions as he fought the inevitable—doubt, fear, anger, finally settling on fear. A few minutes passed before resignation took fear’s place. His shoulders slumped forward.
“My friend drive taxi…” he said, his voice low.
Leine moved closer so she could hear him.
“He pay me to find girls.” He glanced at Leine, a confessor’s guilt on his face.
“He pays you to put something in their drink, and then you offer to help them?” Right into your friend’s waiting cab. Leine inhaled deeply to eliminate the urge to wrap her hands around his neck. And what would choking him accomplish? Nothing. It would create a scene, and he’d need medical attention, delaying her meeting with the taxi driver. Might even involve the police, depending.
Calm down, Leine. He’s not worth it.
“I only deliver. I no sell. No illegal activity,” Alak said, his conviction obviously genuine.
Leine nodded at the gun in her hand and leveled her gaze at him.
“Well, then, I won’t kill you, just shoot your balls off. What do you think? Would that still count as illegal, or do you think I’d get away with it?”
“You can no—”
“Yes, I can. And I will unless you cooperate.” She raised an eyebrow as she brought the gun closer. “I need your friend’s contact information.”
Alak covered his lap with his hands, the whites of his eyes showing. Beads of sweat rolled down the sides of his face.
Leine smiled as she leaned forward and encircled his wrist with her fingers. He tried to wrench free, but her grip proved too strong. His expression changed from anger to fear as he realized that things were going south.
“I need your friend’s information. Now,” she repeated calmly.
Distress plain on his face, Alak feverishly scanned the café and their surroundings. Finding no one sympathetic to his plight, he returned his attention to Leine. Leine tightened her grip and his hand started to turn white. He stared at his fingers and then at her. Something in his eyes changed, and Leine knew she had him.
“His name Sam. But he not tell you who he work for.”
“Oh, I think he will.” Leine released her grip and he straightened, rubbing his wrist.
“Then he know it me.”
Leine shrugged. “And I care because…”
“Many people die.”
“I’m only interested in Kylie. If you give me what I want, then no one has to die.”
Alak nodded, and glanced to each side as though making sure no one was within hearing distance. “Sam sell girls to man name Victor Wang. This all I say. I not know where find this man, and Sam no know. I find girls, Sam drive them to arrange place, and someone else pick them up. I no meet Wang. Sam only meet once, when he apply for job.”
“Give me your cell phone.”
Alak crossed his arms. “Why you need?”
“Give me your phone,” Leine repeated, stretching her arm across the table.
By the look on his face he was battling whether to give up his electronic lifeline, not sure what the crazy-ass woman across from him was going to do with it. After a brief pause Alak reached into his pocket to fish out his phone, and laid it on the table. Leine was glad to see it was a well-made knockoff and not a cheap burner phone, easily discarded. She had him tap in his security code and then open his contacts. She jotted down Sam’s number along with the numbers Alak called the most often and his contact information. Then she downloaded a simple tracking program and gave it back.
“If anything you’ve told me isn’t true, then I will find you.” She stood up and threw a few baht onto the table. “You don’t want me to find you.”
Chapter 7
Leine returned to her hotel around five and headed to the bar for a drink and a light dinner. Her interview with the guide, Charlie, didn’t turn up anything new, and the Kiwi sisters hadn’t responded to her calls. Sam the driver wouldn’t answer his phone, and Leine didn’t bother leaving a message. She’d find a way to contact him if she ran out of options. She powered on the burner phone she’d picked up at the airport, and while she waited for her drink to arrive called a number she hadn’t used since the last time she’d been in Bangkok six years before.
“You will find good fortune at the Golden Dragon,” a man’s voice said in Thai.
“And it rains long in the mountains,” Leine answered with the prearranged code in the same language, then switched to English. “Please, may I speak with Kavi if he is available?”
The man on the other end paused briefly. “One moment.”
The bartender brought her a Sazerac and Leine signed for the drink. A few moments later Kavi came on the line.
“Is this the dear friend who promised to call whenever she had the good fortune to arrive in this beautiful city of treasures?”
Leine smiled at Kavi’s words. He’d been her regular contact whenever she had a job in Southeast Asia, and they’d spent many a night drinking and commiserating in his office overlooking the Chao Phraya River. Kavi was married to a sweet Thai woman named Phan, a diminutive lady with an amazingly fierce temper, which Kavi refused to bait. “I tested her patience once and only once. I will never do so again,” he’d said solemnly during one of their many shared meals. His expression had been so grave Leine didn’t press for details.
“It is. And is this the most precious friend I had the fortune to meet many years ago in this, the beautiful city of treasures?”
Kavi chuckled. “It is good to hear your voice, my friend. What brings you to Bangkok?”
“I am in need of your services. Is there somewhere we can meet?”
“Of course. Tonight?”
“If it wouldn’t be a problem, yes.”
“I will text you a location and meet you in one hour, if that will suffice.”
“Perfect.”
***
Kavi hadn’t changed at all in the years since she’d seen him. Apparently, most Thais knew the secret to staying young, even when they’d reached octogenarian status. Kavi was probably closer to forty than eighty, but even if he were the latter, she knew she’d see the same unlined, peaceful face.
Kavi’s mouth split into a grin when he saw Leine, and he stood up to greet her, his eyes sparkling. Leine brought her hands up in prayer pose and bowed.
“Sawadi ka,” she said, greeting him in Thai.
Kavi returned the bow. “Sawadi kap,” he replied, waiting for her to take a seat across from him before joining her.
“I took the liberty of ordering for you a Singha.” He pushed the beer toward her and had a sip of his own.
Leine brought the bottle to her lips and let the cool liquid slide down her throat. Placing the beer on the table, she felt herself relax for the first time since the flight from LA.
“You’re looking well,” Kavi observed as he settled back in his chair. He’d chosen the food court of an air-conditioned mall not too far from Leine’s hotel. There were several people still shopping at the exclusive stores, which suited Leine.
Safety in numbers.
“I heard you left.”
Leine nodded, took another drink of her beer. “My conscience wouldn’t let me sleep. Especially after Carlos.”
“I, too, have ended my tenure with our former employer,” Kavi said, his mouth pulling down at the corners. “There are rumors that it was your hand that ended Eric’s life.” Kavi watched her intently, his expression unreadable.
“You can’t believe everything you hear. My understanding is that he was in the wrong neighborhood at the wrong time.” Leine shrugged. Kavi didn’t need confirmation that she had eliminated her ex-boss. He probably guessed she h
ad. Besides, his own code of honor would demand the death of one who initiated such a betrayal.
“Either way, it is good that such a man is dead.”
Preliminaries out of the way, Leine pushed a photo of Kylie across the table toward him. Kavi leaned forward in his chair and glanced at the picture.
“I’m looking for a girl who was last seen at a hostel downtown. Her family is worried something’s happened to her.”
Kavi shook his head. “Bangkok is filled with such girls. I will need more information than that.”
“I have a name. Victor Wang. Ring any bells for you?”
Kavi frowned. “Chinese.”
Leine nodded.
“Triad, then.”
“I suspect they are involved, yes. How deeply, I don’t know.”
Kavi sighed. “I can check with my contacts, although I can’t promise anything.”
“I realize that. But if anyone can tease a flower from a closed fist, it’s you.”
Kavi gave her a wry smile. “Finding your Kylie will be like looking for a drop of water in the sea.” He paused, focusing on the photograph. “She will appeal to a specific segment of clientele—most American and European men prefer Thai women, so that will narrow it down a little. I will be the essence of discretion so that it does not raise suspicion. It could stir up a nest of vipers, otherwise.”
“I have every confidence in your abilities, Kavi. Thank you.”
Kavi inclined his head and toasted her with his beer. “For you, my friend, anything.”
“How is Phan?”
“She is quite well, thank you. She sends her best.”
“What are you doing now that you don’t work for our former employer?”
Kavi frowned, shrugging. “Oh, this and that. Not anything exciting, I’m afraid. And you? Are you a friend of the missing girl’s family?”