The Trafficked (21 page)

Read The Trafficked Online

Authors: Lee Weeks

Tags: #Suspense, #Fiction

52
 

Becky and Mann had finished looking around the beach property that they had agreed to view at four—it was a bit dilapidated but ripe for conversion into a small hotel—and were now waiting for the owner to return. He had disappeared to consult his partner about the price. Becky had a message alert on her phone. It was from Alex…

Hi Baby. Sorry keep missing your calls. Reception crap.
Am fine. V busy here in Hong Kong. Will call you in a
cuppla days. Love Al. Xx

She was in the middle of texting him back when her phone went.

‘Hi Jimmy? Anything wrong?’

‘I think so. I’ve just been around to your flat and there was a woman there. She said she was a friend of a friend. Said she’d been told her that you were thinking of renting the flat out and that she was given the key to come and have a look whilst you were away. I told her who I was and she gave me back the key and left. She definitely didn’t like me finding her there, Becky.’

‘I don’t have a clue what that’s about. Did she give you a name?’

‘No.’

Becky finished the call and went to rejoin Mann.

‘Anything wrong?’ He looked at her face and saw that she was troubled.

She frowned. ‘Not sure really. Is the phone reception in Hong Kong bad?’

‘The best there is—we practically invented it, for Christ’s sake. Why?’

‘It’s just that Alex has been trying to get through. He says the signal’s bad there.’

Mann shrugged. ‘I’ve never known it to be.’

‘And there was something else strange going on back home…but I’m sure it’s nothing…Jimmy’s looking into it for me.’ She gave a flicker of a smile but Mann could see she was worried.

Becky didn’t want to say any more. She had to try and work out what it meant. Why was there a woman in the flat? The owner returned with his brother-in-law.

‘We are sorry, sir, but we have already sold the house. It is no longer for sale.’

‘You have had an offer?’ asked Mann.

‘Yes—a very good offer.’

‘Who made you that offer?’

The two men looked at each other and spoke in their dialect.

‘A Chinese man.’

‘The offer was made today? Did he come here?’

‘No. He made the offer by phone.’

‘And you accepted it? He could cheat you. I can give you a payment right here.’ Mann pretended to fish in his pocket.

‘No, no…’ They shook their heads and looked decidedly edgy. ‘We know this Chinese man. He has made a good offer. We accept.’

‘You have done business with him before?’ They nodded. ‘Okay. No hard feelings. I bet you’ve had a lot of interest in this house, huh?’

The men looked at one another and held out their palms in wonderment. ‘We could have sold this house three times today—any price. But we only have
one
house.’

‘Lucky Chinese man. What’s his name?’

The two men sensed a trick. They shook their heads and started to walk away.

‘Just Chinese, that’s all. Bye bye.’ They waved and walked back into the house.

Becky looked at Mann.

‘Stevie Ho?’

‘It could be elusive Stevie, who suddenly has enough money to buy the world it would seem. But they did the transaction by phone. The man must have wanted them to know he was Chinese. I am not convinced they have done business with him before; they looked like they were saying what they thought I wanted to hear. We need to get a better look at those westerners you saw. I’m thinking of sending you in, under cover. Could you work the bars, do you think?’

‘Yeah, that’ll work!’

‘Hey, look…a woman has a lot of pulling power here. Especially a western woman—they’re going to think all their Christmases came at once.’

‘Yeah, right! They are going to think
reporter.
They
come here to escape women like me, not have sex with them. Anyway, we’ve been seen as a couple.’

‘Just winding you up.’ He grinned. ‘But can I just say—if it was me, I wouldn’t have a problem with that.’

She thumped his arm. He ducked out of the way to answer his phone, It was Shrimp.

‘You all right? What happened? David White emailed me. He said you were both set up.’

‘It was nothing, boss. I dealt with it—a couple of wanksters—would-be gangsters. Basically I kicked ass.’

Mann knew that Shrimp had come off well but not unscathed. He was a great martial arts expert but he wasn’t used to having to protect at the same time. He had had a hard job defending David White and fighting, but he’d done it well.

‘Who were they?’

‘White Circle. They told me before I kicked the shit out of them and sent them away crying.’

‘We can’t move without them knowing.’

‘There’s something else Boss—Micky’s missing.’

53
 

‘You have a party of westerners here—with a little girl and a young woman? Must have been, what, four or five of them altogether. I met them by the pool earlier. I’d like to invite them for a drink, can you tell me what name they are booked under so that I can say hello?’

The girls exchanged glances. Mann was standing in reception. He picked out the one who hadn’t taken her eyes off him and flashed his most charming smile. ‘I know they are staying in the villa by the pool. We talked for ages but I forgot to ask for a name.’

‘Do you mean the three men; one man is with his daughter and another girl?’

‘Yes. That’s the one.’

The other two receptionists flashed her a look. A momentary look of concern crossed her face. It disappeared as Mann leaned across the desk. ‘I don’t want to appear rude, but I have never seen such pretty receptionists.’

She smiled and lowered her chin, batting her eyelashes at Mann.

‘It’s booked under the name of Mr Reese Pearce, from Angeles.’

Becky was waiting for him in their room. It was furnished with rustic touches. It had rattan cabinets either side of the French doors that led to a small balcony. Above the bed was a tapestry—a native scene with coconuts and volcanoes.

She watched Mann finish unpacking his bag and hang up his clothes in the white louver-doored wardrobe.

‘What do you think I should wear?’ she asked.

He answered without thinking about it. ‘Cut-offs. Flat shoes, nice top—chic casual—the purple silk top, that’s nice.’

‘How come when I ask you that, you have an exact image in mind? Most guys would just say “Put anything on”.’

‘Because it’s important, we want to look right. We don’t want to stand out too much, but we want to look moneyed. We want them to believe that we are a newly married couple used to exotic holidays.’

Becky was still sitting on the bed, surrounded by the spewed-out contents of her fake Louis Vuitton holdall that Ponytail had thrown in with the handbag deal.

‘Whatever you wear you’ll still look as sexy as hell. Someone with your looks can’t help it.’ Mann disappeared into the bathroom with his toiletries.

She looked at him curiously when he came back into the room. ‘You actually mean that, don’t you?’

‘Of course—bound to get told I’m a lucky man more than once tonight.’

She shook her head in disbelief. ‘That’s the nicest thing anyone’s said to me in a long time.’

Mann turned around to see if she was joking and realised she wasn’t. He was about to add that it was a privilege to be seen out with her, but he could see that he had probably said enough—she was busy over enthusiastically tidying her things away.

‘What’s the plan this evening, Mann?’ she asked, not looking at him.

‘We will have to split up for the first part of it; strangely enough, you wouldn’t be that welcome in the girlie bars, I am going to look for Fat Harry. He owns a few of the most expensive bars here.’

‘Why do you think he’s involved in the new society?’

‘Because David White mentioned him and both Ng and Shrimp say his name has cropped up with any new ventures of the seedy kind with Stevie Ho. Besides being a bar owner he is also the appointed head of the local “Trade Organisation”, which exists solely to protect the other western perverts who set up businesses here. I remember years ago, he was in the news in Hong Kong, and David White pointed him out. He had some connection to a syndicate that owned taxi firms. He escaped charges then, when he paid off the parents of three juveniles he’d been overly friendly to. He’s a big enough fish to have been at least courted by the new gang.’

‘What do you want me to do?’

‘Find an Internet café and get in touch with the
team. See if they’re getting any further with finding Amy Tang; see if Micky has turned up. Ask around here—see if anyone knows anything or has seen anything that can help us. But be careful, journalists die at an alarming rate here. Questions will not be welcomed. However, as a woman, you can move around easily; the Filipino men are very respectful. It’s only the westerners that you have to watch out for, but then you know all about that…On that vein—first, let’s see if we can find your poolside friend—Mr Reese Pearce and co.

54
 

Reese focused on them from far away. He could tell when people were new to the Philippines. They smelt different. Their clothes didn’t have the smell of dust and damp. He recognised the woman from the pool, hard to forget. It had been bugging him for the last few hours. He had hoped their paths might cross again. He hardly saw western women any more. Becky’s blonde hair made him nostalgic for home. She looked like a surfer girl. His eyes focused on her and he nudged Terry, who was, as ever, on his laptop.

‘There’s that woman I told you about—the one by the pool. I’m going to introduce myself. Maybe I can interest them in a guided tour or some such crap. Maybe they want to stay in one of the houses?’

Terry looked up from his work. ‘They’re just a young couple. Do you think we need any hassle right now? We have enough going on with the Teacher and…’

‘Why isn’t he out here now? He spends his whole time locked away in that villa. What does he do, just sit there and drink beer and stare at the walls?’

‘He says he’ll come and find us in a minute.’

‘He can take all the time he wants—miserable bastard.’

Becky looked up and saw Reese staring at her.

‘Think that’s him,’ she whispered, whilst pretending to whisper something nice in Mann’s ear. ‘At one o’clock, he’s at a bar table with another man. He’s seen me.’

‘He hasn’t seen
me
,’ Mann said under his breath, and grinned. ‘He can’t take his eyes off you.’

‘Let’s mill around, take our time to work the street. Let him get a good look at you. Let’s look in doorways, pretend to shop.’

He steered Becky towards the T-shirt souvenir shop. She thumbed through the racks of innuendoes and slogans, mainly referring to a diver’s prowess in the sack, and looked over to see Reese grinning at her.

‘It’s definitely him,’ she said to Mann, who was looking through a rack of leather-thonged shark’s-tooth necklaces.

Mann looked over at Reese and Terry. They were sitting at a bar on the right side of the beach bar, outside a small hotel. He could see that Reese was still watching Becky’s every move.

‘Let’s head for the bar opposite them—and be nice, let him down gently—he obviously likes you.’ Mann held up a T-shirt in front of his face as he grinned at Becky. They made their way across and perched on stools at the end of the small bar just ten foot away.

Terry looked up and followed Reese’s gaze across the lane to Mann and Becky.

‘Stop leching after every piece of ass, especially some white woman’s who’s with her big boyfriend. The last
thing we want is trouble.’ Terry tapped away on his keyboard.

‘No trouble.’ Reese picked up his drink and sauntered over. Terry stayed where he was.

‘Evening, folks. Just off the boat?’

Becky giggled.

‘How can you tell? We were just about to order. Can I get you a drink?’ asked Mann.

Reese kept his eyes on Becky as Mann was speaking. Becky smiled coyly back.

‘Sure can.’

‘What about your mate over there? Would he like to join us?’

‘Terry!’ Reese called over to him. Terry looked up and Reese beckoned him over. He shut his laptop and sauntered across.

‘Hope my friend’s not bothering you.’ Terry rolled his eyes Reese’s way. ‘What brings you two here?’

‘We are on honeymoon, actually. This is my wife, Lucy, and I’m John.’

Reese let out a whoop, did a panting-dog imitation and then wet his lips as he winked at Mann. ‘Lucky bloke. Honeymoon, huh? I could do with one of those. Tell me, young lady—is he everything he promised he would be?’

Becky giggled. ‘I am a very satisfied customer, thanks for asking.’

Reese burst out laughing.

‘Good answer,’ Terry said, grinning as he sat down on the stool next to Mann.

‘And what about you gents? What brings you here?’ asked Mann.

‘A bit of property acquisition,’ answered Reese before Terry could respond. ‘Show them the pictures, Terry. Terry has lots of places to look at. He’s downloaded photos of houses, I’m sure John here would love to see them, wouldn’t you?’

‘Love to.’

Terry wasn’t best pleased with Reese’s ruse to chat up Becky unhindered, but he guessed it wouldn’t do any harm. He turned his laptop towards Mann and showed him some of the beach-front properties available. There were several on the screen.

‘How do you scroll down?’ asked Mann as the waiter arrived with their drinks.

Before they had time to drink them, Terry got a text. He read it, knocked back his whisky and got off the stool.

‘Drink up, Reese, we’re gone.’ He took his laptop back from Mann, closed it and tucked it under his arm. ‘Let’s leave these nice folks to enjoy the evening. Reese…let’s go.’

‘Huh?’ Reese was extremely disgruntled at having his flirting interrupted, just when he was about to try his hand on Becky’s leg, although he would only have done it the once. Becky was fast losing the smile cemented to her face.

Reese took her hand and kissed it. ‘Till we meet again…’ He drank up and followed Terry, who was already several feet away. When they were out of earshot he hissed:

‘What the fuck is wrong with you?’

‘I just got a text. It’s the Teach. We have to go. He
wants out
now.
He’s not looking for excuses, move your ass.’

‘Why? Thought he was on the way here?’

‘Not now he isn’t.’

‘What the fuck is the matter with him? He was supposed to be on the way to come and find us for a beer.’

‘He was, apparently; he turned back for some reason. Fuck knows! He’s shitting himself about something. He says we have to leave
now’

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