Mo turned back to look at Phara. Phara’s eyes said it all, her lip quivering as she nodded, unable to answer. Mo sniffed, wiped her nose with the back of her hand, and looked out on the swirling river that was taking away her daughter’s ashes. Now they circled and swirled as they met with Alak’s and joined. Mo shouted across the wide river, her voice breaking.

‘Listen to me, spirit of the river. I give you my only daughter, Run Run. You keep her safe and you give her all she needs and…’ She bowed her head for a few seconds, her shoulders heaved, then she looked up again and spoke, quieter this time. ‘You tell her to marry her love in the peaceful wash of your moonlit banks. Tell her to be joined forever with Alak. Look after her, river spirit.’

As the plumes of ashes entwined and were swallowed by the rushing water, Mo turned away from the river.

‘Phara…call the women together. We go to war.’

99

Saw tied a rope around Jake’s neck and pulled him on. Jake’s legs stumbled, weak from the exertion and the beating he had taken from Saw. His head pounded and he could not lift his eyes without his vision splitting. He longed to look back at Anna but he could not. He felt useless. He hadn’t managed to protect Lucas. His best friend was gone, dead, and so were Silke and Thomas. Jake did not understand. Why had he kept him and Anna alive? What did Saw want from them? Wherever they were headed, thought Jake, this was the end of the road.

It was well into the next afternoon when they reached the river. Saw left them hidden in the jungle whilst he sent his men to capture a boat. Saw’s men threw the fisherman overboard, along with his catch, and dragged Jake and Anna on board. They pushed off from the jetty and began their journey to Mae Sot.

Jake watched Saw as he stood at the helm, his eyes always looking, his ears always listening like the animal he was, attuned to the jungle. He watched the flashes of gunfire light up the sky. His men sat pensive, quiet as the water lapped against the side of the boat and the engine droned. Saw’s men listened to the boom of mortar attacks and the rattle of automatic gunfire and they looked furtively from one another and to Saw.

Anna and Jake glanced at one another and both knew what the other was thinking. For the first time in two weeks, they could hear the sound of someone fighting. It must be on their behalf, they thought, and so maybe there was hope. They smiled at one another. Maybe there was still hope for them.

100

Brigitte carried on walking all day, pulling down branches from overhead to eat their leaves as she went. Occasionally her trunk came back to investigate Mann. By late afternoon, the sound of fighting drew nearer. The tranquil air was peppered with the rattle and pop of automatic gunfire and the boom of mortars exploding and echoing through the hills. Plumes of smoke rose from the dense teak forests.

‘We are one more day from the river now, my friend.’

Mann looked up through the gaps in the canopy overhead.

‘Why are we headed east?’

‘We must avoid the fighting, we must travel around it. We will hit the river further upstream but it cannot be helped. Mo is busy with the mortars I gave her; we will be caught in it if we are not careful.’

He tapped Brigitte with his cane. She broke into a rolling trot. Mann’s body was still struggling to cope with soaring temperatures and endless muscle pain and fatigue. Now they seemed to be deep into jungle and far away from the river and Mann felt a sense of foreboding.

‘Do you think it is definitely Mo fighting?’ he asked.

‘Yes. I do. Mo is a brave woman. She is also a fearless fighter. She will seek revenge for her daughter’s death. She will keep Boon Nam busy whilst we try and catch up with the young people. He must be trying to head up to the mountains. He won’t escape Mo, she knows every path in these jungles and her women are fearless. I pity him when they catch him.’

101

It was late evening when Saw’s boat pulled up alongside the bank, a quarter of a mile before the bridge. In the distance Jake could see the braziers that lined the start of the bridge and the market. He heard the throng of people doing business.

Handsome dragged Anna and Jake along the rough bank as they scrambled up along the edge of the river towards the market. It was eleven p.m., the night just beginning in Mae Sot. The lights of the market reached them as they entered the outskirts of Mae Sot. A few wary eyes watched the troop pass but none stopped their dealings to comment. Mae Sot had seen every type of creature in human form passing through, selling each other’s souls under cover of night. Saw, his wolf-pack and his two white-faced hostages were just a few more.

102

Magda peeked around the corner of the blind to see who was banging on the door of the PIC. Dorothy was standing outside, looking very upset. Magda let her in and locked the door behind her. Dorothy’s face was flushed with anger.

‘I saw the light on and knew it would be you,’ she blurted. ‘I was looking for you. I want you to come over to the NAP offices. I have something to show you. I cannot believe that Katrien has caused so much misery. It’s all coming out now. We are under an official investigation. It appears that the money from all those people who have been giving so generously over the past two years has been going straight into her own bank account. She’s been buying drugs from her friends in Burma to pass on to all those scumbag dealers here.’ Dorothy suddenly stopped and looked around at the mess all over the floor where Magda had been sorting out the boxes of old papers.

‘Oh God! What has happened here? Another break-in?

‘No, Alfie’s asked me to look into all of Deming’s affairs. He thinks we have something that they want. Something that is connected to Jake and to Burma. I am trying to find anything that might help.’

Magda looked so exhausted and distraught by it all, Dorothy’s eyes filled with concern.

‘Come on. I’ll help you.’ Dorothy slipped off her jacket and put it over the back of a chair. ‘Bring me the papers; I’ll sit here at the desk.’

‘Do you remember a company called the Golden Orchid?’

Dorothy nodded. ‘Deming got most of his merchandise from there.’

‘What merchandise?’

Dorothy hesitated and then shrugged. ‘I have no doubt that he made his money in a dubious way but the invoices all read the same—locally-sourced artefacts for export.’

‘What did that mean?’

Dorothy sighed. ‘He said it was handicrafts, locally-made toys, souvenirs, jewellery, that kind of thing.’

‘You didn’t believe it?’

‘Yes, to a certain extent, but I only saw a small amount of merchandise arrive. There was a massive difference between the value of that and the amount of cash that Deming always had. He bought this place for you with cash. He bought the flat with cash. Plus, at that time, Amsterdam was full of heroin and Chinese businessmen—the two things went together.’

Magda shook her head and closed her eyes for a few seconds.

‘I can hardly believe how bad this all gets. The more I find out, the less I like the man I thought I loved.’