The other three men seated in the room looked to be Thai, except their skin was slightly darker. Perhaps Burmese or Cambodian, guessed Jack. Two of them were dressed in long khaki-coloured cargo pants and wore dark blue golf shirts that weren’t tucked in.

The third man wore black slacks and a white golf shirt. He stood up and the other two quickly followed suit, both of them standing erect, like they were at attention. It was obvious that they worked for the man in the white golf shirt. Something about him seemed odd. Jack returned his cold, hard stare. He knew he was looking at the man with the dead eyes.

“You will accompany Mister Sato into the bedroom,” said Lee. “A table has been set up in there. He has some questions to ask you.”

“I would like to meet your boss first,” said Jack. “There are some things I would like to discuss with him.”

“Please do not delay,” replied Lee nervously. “You must answer Mister Sato’s questions first. I beg you.”

“Laura,” said Jack, “I am sure you do not wish to sit in a bedroom with a bunch of men you don’t know. Go find the lounge and we’ll meet you there for a drink after.”

“No,” replied the man with the dead eyes. “Nobody is to leave this room until we are finished.”

“And you are?” asked Jack.

“Da Khlot. You would be wise to obey.”

Laura took a deep breath and shrugged her shoulders indifferently. “I’ll be okay, honey.” She smiled at Lee while Jack and Sato went into the bedroom and closed the door.

Two of the men took their chairs and moved them between the bedroom door and the entrance door to the room. The third man remained by the window, seated beside Da Khlot.

Laura moved toward the man sitting with Da Khlot and smiled. “May I sit there?” she asked, gesturing with her hand.

The man started to rise.

“No!” ordered Da Khlot, closing the drapes. “You sit on the floor.”

“Up yours,” replied Laura. “I’ll sit where I damn well feel like.”

“Please,” interrupted Lee, looking at Da Khlot. “Do not treat her like a prisoner. Western women are not accustomed to taking orders.” He looked at Laura and said, “Please, sit on the bed with me. We can watch television.”

Da Khlot’s impassive face did not change, but a slight nod of his head gave Laura permission and she sat on the end of the bed between Lee and the man with the yellow T-shirt.

Lee leaned toward the television remote, but Da Khlot said, “Mister Sato said there was to be no television, no radio, and no talking. We just wait.”

Laura waited as the seconds ticked past to eventually become minutes. She strained to listen, but could only hear the murmur of voices from the next room. She could smell the sweat and feel the dampness from the arms and legs of the two men she sat between.

From his chair by the window, Da Khlot continued to stare at her, his face blank as to what he was thinking. It was his eyes that portrayed a sense that he was lacking in any human emotion. What could cause a person to become like that?

Laura did not know about children swinging pickaxes, or screaming people turning into corpses in muddy ditches sodden with blood. If she had, perhaps she would have understood. It would not have eased her fear, but she would have understood the true nature of the man she faced.

At five-thirty, the bedroom door opened quietly and Sato appeared. He shook his head, a sign that caused Laura to speculate on her chances of running and diving into the drapes and through a glass window.

“We are not finished,” said Sato, looking at Lee. “Only the first part. I need to go to the bathroom and then he will be hooked to the polygraph.”

“Is it going well?” asked Lee.

Sato paused, appearing to be in deep thought, but replied, “I do not have an answer for you yet. Nothing definitive. Inconclusive about — well, let me say that we have reached a stage where I can elicit more penetrating questions. You will soon know.”

At six o’clock, Sato abruptly flung open the door and everyone leaped to their feet. He strode across the floor to Lee and pointing his finger back toward the bedroom he said, “That man is either a police officer or is working for the police!”

“No!” cried Lee, as the panic swept across his face. “Maybe you made a mistake?”

“No mistake and no doubt,” replied Sato.

Laura felt like she was drugged. Life appeared in slow motion. She rose from the bed and stepped forward, catching a glimpse of Jack in the bedroom, still sitting in a chair, with a strap around his chest and wires dangling from his fingers.

The two men in front of her pulled pistols from under their shirt and pointed them at Jack. Laura felt Da Khlot’s hand slip over her mouth and the sharp point of a knife on the back of her neck.

35

At four o’clock that afternoon, Sammy realized something had gone wrong. He sent one car racing north while he took the road south, back to Lamai. The van was not located until five o’clock, parked at the Pavilion resort.

Another tense meeting took place in Sammy’s room.

“Goddamn it! Goddamn it! Goddamn it!” Sammy cursed as he paced back and forth. “I knew I shouldn’t have let them do it! It’s my fucking fault!”

“What are —”

“Shut the fuck up,” muttered Sammy to his subordinate. “I’m thinking.” He turned to the Thai policemen and said, “Is there a local police officer you trust completely?”

“Yes, several,” replied the men.

“I want the driver of the van questioned. Find out what he knows.”

“I understood from Jack,” said the LO, “that the driver doesn’t really know anything. If Jack is wrong, then grabbing him would alert the bad guys. Jack and Laura could be killed.”

“Yeah, and maybe they’re already dead or dying,” said Sammy, turning to the Thai policemen. “Use a hit-and-run scenario.”

“Hit and run?” they asked in unison.

“Have the driver interrogated and tell him his licence plate was taken as the result of a hit-and-run accident. Find out everywhere he went today. Please hurry.”

It was six o’clock when the Thai police reported back. The driver had been interrogated.

“He swears he was not in any accident and the only trip he made was to pick up two men from the Pavilion and a man and woman from Bill Resort and drop them all off at the Cliff Bar and Grill a couple of kilometres north of Lamai. He thinks they were getting in another van when he left to return to the Pavilion, but cannot recall anything about it. The police officer who questioned him believes he is telling the truth.”

“Would you like us to have him question the people at the Cliff Bar and Grill?” suggested the other Thai policeman. “He could pretend to be checking the driver’s story that he was not in an accident.”

“Yeah, good idea,” said Sammy quietly. “Other than that, where would you go to dump some bodies?”

“Hey! What’s the fuss?” yelled Jack, still sitting in the chair.

“You lied!” shouted Lee. “You are working for the police!”

“I didn’t lie,” said Jack. “Sato! Do you think I lied?”

“No,” replied Sato, “I could tell that you weren’t lying,” he said, adamantly.

“What?” yelled Lee, grabbing Sato by his arm. “You told me Jack worked for the police?”

“That’s right,” said Jack. “I told him I did. I wasn’t lying.”

“You work for the police!” said Lee, astounded.

“Of course I work with them. You know that,” he chuckled. “So do you. How do you think I learned about Goldie becoming a rat if I didn’t have friends on the inside?”

“Oh, my friend,” replied Lee, shaking his head. “That is not what we were thinking.”

“Jesus! You mean you thought I was really working for them? Christ, what kind of guy do you take me for? Sure, sometimes we have to scratch each other’s back a little, but come on! If you’re trying to find out if I really work for the police, let me prepare a few questions of my own that you can have Sato ask me. They should alleviate any doubt.”