Dans le Murs Part 10

We gathered all our information together as we discussed the possibilities. The meeting with Leubeka had, at least, given us some practice and fixed much of the detail in our minds. After coffee for three there was a ring at the bell and we found a very contrite Leubeka outside. He crawled, scraped, slobbered to try to get us to reconsider but when he heard of our impending meeting with Mrs T he quietened down and accepted the fact. I don’t think he wanted to even think about crossing her. Come to that, neither did I. We parted almost amicably. I reported the further changes back to France by fax to keep them in the picture. Now we had an hour and a half to worry about Mrs T. Nahdya looked lovely and under normal circumstances we would have had sex but nothing would get my penis to rise again that morning. In the event we simply left the hotel and just wandered the locality. Even then I had this nagging feeling that eyes were on us all the time. We returned to the hotel to shower and dress before taking the lift to the foyer just before midday. Almost on the dot one of the Reception staff signalled to me. At the desk she indicated a well-dressed man as my ‘taxi’. He welcomed us with a smile and guided us to a magnificent dove grey Mercedes Benz. We sat in luxury as the car whispered through the congested streets, the air conditioning managing the rising humidity. Fifty minutes brought us to an obviously affluent neighbourhood and a very large set of wrought iron gates that swung open silently as we approached. Cameras followed our every move. The house was magnificent, a blend of Thai and New England styles which complemented each other. On entering we were instructed to remove our shoes and were checked, very thoroughly, for weapons. They even removed my trusty Swiss Army Knife. Then we were ushered into a panelled room with thick carpets and rugs. Air conditioners whispered softly keeping the shelves of books dry in the humidity. Rising from a leather chair was a large, middle-aged lady, about 1m60 but well covered. I would not dare to call her fat! She had wire-framed glasses and was dressed in traditional Thai manner. She approached and held out her hand. “Mister Colin and Ms Nahdya, welcome.” Her grip was cool and she had unusually small hands. “I am Mrs Tharamdapur and you are honoured guests in my house.”

I nodded my head very slightly. “It is we who are honoured ma-am.” I replied, “To be permitted to visit your beautiful home.”
“Sit down and please call me Valentin.” she waved her hand, “If we are to be partners we must also be friends. Tell me, are you a little apprehensive?”
“Apprehensive? Not at all Valentin.” I smiled, “Terrified would be a better description. I am shaking in my shoes. Your reputation precedes you and I am naturally apprehensive.”
She smiled. I guessed she was mid forties with a rounded face but I was not fooled. She was hard and ruthless despite her motherly appearance. “Do not believe everything you hear,” she offered me a cigarette from a gold case, which I declined. “I never eat European men before lunch!”
She lit her own cigarette and blew a plume of blue smoke away from me. 

“You will have a drink, then talk, then lunch then talk again?” she asked. I nodded to Nadhya who asked for a Coke while I fancied a Brandy Sour. Mrs T ordered a single malt Scotch which I thought an unusual drink for a Thai, but then what position was I in to quarrel? While we waited for our refreshments Mrs T took control.
“I said on the telephone that I have respect for your organisation.” she began as she drew on the cigarette, “I do not understand why you chose to deal with that asshole Leubeka, he is less than nothing and exists only because I permit it. Had you contacted me immediately I would save you many wasted hours.” I shrugged. “Still,” she continued with a smile, “we now together so it is good. I control girls, you have technology and marketing; a perfect combination I think. We discuss detail with my specialist.” At this moment our drinks arrived and she spoke to the man. He nodded and left quickly.
“He peddles ‘kiddy’ stuff.” I said softly and inconsequentially. “Personally I feel that is a danger to all of us because it is internationally abhorrent.” I felt that I had to one good thing and if I could protect even a single child from exploitation then I would do so.
“We are aware of that.” she nodded. “You think it not right?

I sipped my drink. “Not right? It morally disgusts me and the corporation.” I said strongly, “But even more important is that police forces across the globe cooperate and are charged with trapping pae-dophiles like him. If he is intercepted, any subsequent investigation could involve you and consequently us.”
“You think he should be ‘removed’?”
“That is your decision of course madam.” I shuddered, “But if you should choose to do so then I would ask for the children to be treated with dignity. They are the victims of his filthy trade and I would like to see them repatriated if possible.”
She inclined her head at my moral stand. “Conscience can be a dangerous thing, Colin deVilliers, but it will be done as you wish.”
She made a note in a small book.
“A moment for my engineer.” she sipped her Scotch. It was literally a moment as a young Thai entered, bowed to Mrs T and sat. “This is Tim,” she waved her hand, “he is specialist in electronics and security. He will talk details.”

For the next twenty minutes or so I explained the security procedures we intended to be set in place to minimise the risk of discovery and prosecution. Tim had an excellent command of English and nodded while making notes. As I finished he consulted his notes and turned to Mrs T.
“It is very good.” he announced, “There is always a chance of the authorities seizing our goods but I believe that there is only a very small chance of discovering the content even though they will suspect. Suspicion is difficult to be brought to a court and they will not be able to stop our business legitimately. There are safeguards for us; it is only our studios that are our responsibility for security. I would recommend that we make business with this group; they have good sense of security.” He stood up, bowed to Mrs T and the both of us then left quietly.
Mrs T sipped her drink and smiled. “It is good.” she said softly, “Tim is very hard to please; if he say that you are secure then it is so. We will eat and speak about ourselves then after we finish our business. Come, we will make our toilet and then you tell me about Colin and Nahdya.”

She stood and directed us to bathrooms to freshen up. Compared to the inefficiency of Leubeka this was 10 star and yet I had a foreboding. I shrugged it off thinking that whatever happened I had enjoyed the best few months of my life and should it end now I could not complain. Outside I rejoined Nahdya and we were guided into a dining room. Here was set a magnificent table, very European style, with silver cutlery alongside chopsticks. Mrs T sat so we followed. She signalled to somebody I could not see and immediately platters of deliciously spicy food began to appear on the table. Mrs T indicated which we should try and we filled our plates. For a wine I chose a dry Australian Cabernet while Nahdya selected a medium dry Californian White. Mrs T had another Scotch.
“A little of your background Colin?” she asked, “How you get part of this; why is this beautiful creature with you?”
Slowly I explained the series of events that had taken me there, l’Ecole, being headhunted by the Greatorix Corporation and not forgetting Simone. How my legitimate purpose was IT and that Nahdya was to be my ‘wife’. At this Mrs T laughed openly.
“And is she a good ‘wife’?” she chuckled, waving her chopsticks.
“I am as proud of her as if she were my genuine ‘wife’.” I said strongly, “She is honourable, loyal, honest and, as you have observed, very, very beautiful.” At this Nahdya blushed.

Mrs T looked bemused. “I think you like her very much.” she said softly, “Even though she not your real wife you speak as if she were. I think Nahdya very good in bed too, yes?”
I nodded while Nahdya looked increasingly uncomfortable. “I reply in deference to our position as guests in your house although it is not a question a European feels comfortable with. Yes, Nahdya is all any man could desire.” I said honestly, “If I were unmarried I would consider it an honour if she agreed to marry me.”
“But you are married?” Mrs T observed, “Where is your wife?”
I smiled and recalled our last time in France. “Tessa is, how can I say, a little conservative.” I began, “She knows nothing of my life with Nahdya or of my employment by the Corporation. She is, unfortunately, very English and an up tight woman and, so far as I am aware, still in England at her mother’s.”
“So you are not together?” came the question.
“We separated.” I replied, “Not legally you understand but I don’t believe I could live with her again after the last months; I have experienced too much.”
Mrs T chewed the tip of a stick. “So, if she not around you marry Nahdya?”
“That is a hypothetical question madam, but I will answer it.” I replied with a wry smile, “On the one hand she is around in a manner of speaking, and on the other it would be up to Nahdya if she would put up with me.”
“So Nahdya my dear,” she turned to her, “speak up. Would you marry this Englishman? Be honest my child; I am sure Colin will not be offended if you are, isn’t that right Colin?”
I nodded wondering what was going on.

Nahdya blushed and looked very embarrassed. “I have not thought so much on this.” she began hesitatingly, “I know Colin is married so I do this as work. He is good man and maybe I marry him if he ask, but he has wife.”
“But if he was free Nahdya, if he had no wife, would it be possible? Look into your heart.”
“Yes, I believe I could.” Nahdya said softly, “I think he an honourable man who would make good husband maybe.”
“Then it shall be done!” Mrs T said triumphantly, “We shall celebrate our contract with a Thai wedding.”
“Whoa!” I shouted at this woman arranging my future in a direction I found very sinister, “I think we are losing the plot a little folks. What I said was hypothetical, I am still married to Tessa whatever I may wish and there is also the question of Simone my ward.”
Mrs T looked very darkly at me. “When it is time to marry Nahdya, your wife will not be a problem.” she said softly.
My mind shrieked. This woman was going to kill Tessa simply to satisfy her perverse arrangements. I knew I could never again be satisfied with her refined sexual manners but that did not justify murder. Now I knew, this woman was more than dangerous, she was unbalanced, even barking mad. She believed that she could do anything, that everything had a price and no price was too high. Somehow I had to stop her and get us both out alive. I stood up, my hands on my hips.

“Okay, stop right there!” I shouted, “If my understanding is correct you intend to remove my wife so that I am free to marry Nahdya? No way!”
Mrs T opened her eyes wide. “But is that not what you want Colin?” her voice was almost slimy, “You say you not want her any more and would like Nahdya, so what is the problem?”
“The problem, dear lady, is that in England we do not simply execute our wives when we fancy a change or get tired of them.”
“But it is so simple.” she continued as if I had said nothing, “You are free immediately, no – how you say – loose ends. One moment a problem then, poof, an unfortunate accident and everything right for you to marry Nahdya. You here, she in England; no connection. Perfect.”
“It is not perfect!” I objected loudly, “Firstly I said I couldn’t live with her again, that doesn’t mean I don’t care for her and wish her dead! Secondly if I marry a few days after her demise, don’t you think that will raise more than a few suspicions? No, if I wish to be free of Tessa I will do it according to the law, not your quick and dirty way. If she is harmed accidentally or otherwise then I will hold you responsible dear lady and there will be an accounting!”
“You threaten me?” her voice was pure evil, “You in my house and threaten me? Who you think you are other than a piece of farang shit!”
“I am an Englishman who is defending another human being as well as an ambassador from a very powerful corporation. I have no wish to threaten you madam but please do not make the mistake of underestimating us, we will seek you out if either of us are harmed.” The threat simply rolled off her.
“Ha!” she threw her head back, “A worthless gesture. Maybe then I not kill your wife; maybe I have Nahdya here instead as you do not seem to want her. Yes, she will be our entertainment and you will be invited to watch.”

I pressed myself to Nahdya who was white with fear. “You will have to kill me first.” I spat.
Mrs T shrugged. “That would be most unfortunate but if you insisted. Bangkok a very dangerous place for visitor, maybe you visit bad place, maybe your taxi not safe; accident often happen.”
I turned to see how far the door was; about five meters. Grabbing Nahdya I shouted to her to run and we both dashed to the door. It was not locked but as we flung it open and pelted through three men blocked our path. At a word from Mrs T inside they intercepted us, none too gently. Nahdya was knocked to the ground by a blow to her head and I was twisted around by the neck and held fast. Another man dragged Nahdya to her feet very roughly, pawing her, his hand squeezing her breasts and ripping her blouse. Mrs T appeared at the door. “Oh very James Bond.” she laughed, “Except this is real and in my house we play by my rules.” She gave commands to the man holding Nahdya who then dragged her away.
“She will be ‘prepared’.” Mrs T grated, “Then you will join me for our ‘entertainment’. I think you might think again about your wife because you might not want Nahdya after all. Maybe she not so pretty or maybe incomplete. I think it will be your choice.”
“fucking bitch!” I whispered through the tight grip around my throat, “They said you were mad and they were right. If Nahdya is hurt I swear you will suffer. Anything you do to her will be visited on you tenfold. You will know pain so that you pray for death but it will not be so easy. My people know we are here; if I do not feed back then they will know you are responsible.”
“Hmmm? Maybe.” she tilted her head, “Or maybe you tell me that to protect yourself and it not true.”
“Try me.” I husked again, “Take the risk. Maybe we will not be around but if there is an afterlife then we will be watching you suffer.”
“Then you will report back now.” she decided.
“Bollocks!” was all I could manage, “Forget it!”
She spoke to the third man who was quietly attending; he spun round and followed the path Nahdya had been taken.
“Nahdya will have her fingers broken.” she said as if commenting on a cup of coffee, “I gave him the option of which hand.”
“You are dead lady!” I growled. Mrs T smiled and moved along the same corridor; I was dragged as well.
“I do not think you in a position to carry that out.” she said, “On the other hand I am. Now come, we will hear your punishment to Nahdya.” 
Suddenly, as we reached a thick door, a piercing scream of agony rippled along the walls and tore at my heart. This was followed by another and then sobs and pleading. 
“Okay, I will report.” I appeared to capitulate but we had a card up our sleeve, “So long as you leave her alone immediately. Now, stop it!”
She hit the door hard; it opened and she shouted in. From inside I could hear Nahdya sobbing and I struggled to go to her. 
“Oh no.” she said, “I stopped but that is all. Later she will entertain us but you will not see her until then. Now we go report success.” The door slammed shut silencing the heart wrenching cries from inside.

I was taken roughly to a small room containing a computer and a fax machine. I was sat in front of the PC and told to write a short report. I began but, as agreed with the Grand Master, included in the preamble was a short greeting. It said, “I greet your Worship with humilty, eloquence, love and prescience” The message was headed, Greatorix Corporation Message #6.10. A simple but effective code we had agreed before leaving France. 
“What is this?” she stopped me and pointed to the preamble. I took a previous message from my case and showed her that it was always there.
“It is a specifically worded greeting with precise spelling errors as a check on the fact that it is genuine. “ I said, “Look, there is no change.”
She looked. “What about this number?” she asked. 
“Another crosscheck.” I crossed my fingers, “This way my masters can be certain the message came from me; remember, Tim said we were very secure.”
She nodded and grunted. I made a suitable report, printed it then, after a long look, she faxed it to the number on the previous fax. 
“It is done.” she said, “Now we meet again later.”
“Yes it is done.” I thought, “I pray that the Grand Master is on the ball and true to his word.”

I was manhandled to a small room, thrown roughly inside and the door locked behind me. This was not good. Here was I, very middle aged, never trained to fight or even protect myself, looking at death and the responsibility of another. I was no James Bond and this wasn’t Hollywood. Even if I managed to open the door I was defenceless and these people did not take prisoners. However my thinking was that if I were going to die anyway then I would prefer to die doing something rather than simply sitting around on my butt. I looked around the room for inspiration. It was an internal room, no windows and one door – locked. From the ceiling hung a fan along with two small lights. In one corner was a soft chair, in the other a small cupboard. Slowly I searched the room for bugs and, more importantly, surveillance cameras. I found none but I did discover that Mrs T had a thing about fire. There was what looked like a smoke detector on one wall. Opening the cupboard I discovered an old newspaper. The beginnings of a desperate plan began to emerge. I upended the chair, which was very old, in the hope that I could locate a spring. Yes! Carefully, scraping knuckles in the process, I removed a spring and tediously began to form a sharp tool. I bent it into a handle that I could hold and left the remainder as a sharp prong, like a garden dibber. I had one chance at this. Next I crumpled the paper under the smoke detector. In their haste the goons had not removed my old lighter I always carried. I did not smoke but it often came in useful. Now it might help me prolong my life. I was shaking and light headed as I flicked the wheel and applied the flame to the dry paper. It took immediately and the dust produced lots of smoke. I dashed to the door and positioned myself. I hoped that the system would direct a goon to my room. Suddenly a whooping siren sounded and I prepared. Running feet stopped outside the door, the key turned and the door opened. In rushed a small man. Without another thought I struck out with the wire prong with all my strength, low down to get a soft spot. The sharp point found his torso just to the left of his navel, penetrated the thin, tropical clothes and slid deep into him.