Frank Bowen Conspiracy Thriller Series

Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Frank shuffled along the shore from the phone booth and headed to the bus station with his heavy bag in tow. He had decided to travel to Krabi early to check everything out.

Krabi was indeed a quiet town. The streets ran in squares across each other and there was a main road along the riverfront, which moored various tourist boats and a seafood restaurant. Small islands jutted out from the emerald water as reaching for the clear sky. Frank had heard ‘James Bond Island’ was around here where they had filmed ‘Man with a Golden Gun’, but that little excursion would have to wait.

Frank looked at the notes he had jotted down when speaking to Richard. They included the name of the place with a rough map. The guesthouse café had an array of photos of local beach places to stay. There was no sign or mention of this ‘Bird Cage’ place though?

“I want to go the Bird Cage, tomorrow?”

“Bird Cage?” said the jovial, moustached, Thai man. ‘There is a place called the ‘Bird House’ just outside town.”

“Ah right. Yes, that’s probably it.”

“Run by Mr Ron.”

“Uh huh.”

“Do you bird watch?” the proprietor asked, looking at Frank intently through his shades.

“Uh? …oh yes … sometimes.”

The man babbled Thai at a bored looking kid playing the computer game in the corner of the café and then picked up the phone and spoke to Mr Ron. The bored kid strolled past Frank and got onto a scrambler bike, revving the engine impatiently.

“Yes, he take you there now,” the café owner gestured for Frank to jump on the back.

They scooted up through the town and up a steep hill where the countryside began. He busted a left through an open cast iron gate hidden from the road and, suddenly, they had arrived. It turned out Frank could have easily walked there in ten minutes, but at least he now knew where it was. He offered the bored boy a ten baht note, but he just smiled and took off without a word, leaving Frank alone in the undergrowth.

Plants grew high in the small, secluded garden and the grass was badly in need of a trim. Small insects buzzed in the evening ambience. There was a scent of sweet flowers lingering in the air and an old rusty bike leant against a white building that ran parallel to the path. Here were the guest rooms, a line of eight doors and a toilet and shower area at the end. Frank walked past the bike and saw the man sitting on the patio through the gloom.

Mr Ron stood up from his chair, sporting a white linen suit, and greeted Frank. He was average height, but more western looking than most Thais. It was the prominent nose and chin that made him look like an Englishman.

“Hello,” he said, slightly effeminately, “I am Mr Ron. Can I help you at all?”

He seemed surprised at having a visitor but was warm and friendly and spoke fluent English with barely a trace of an accent. Behind him, there was a wide wooden patio with a railing extended over, what seemed like a marshland. The panoramic view extended across the horizon, revealing long grass, palm trees and little shack huts dotted in the distance. Beyond the jungle overgrowth, mountains rose on the landscape; grey hazed mounds for their distance.

“I know it’s out of season and everything, but I wondered if I could hire a room for a week. I prefer a quiet spot like this, to staying in the town,” said Frank as he walked slowly over to the railing, gazing out at the view.

“It is indeed a beautiful spot,’ the Thai man agreed, moving elegantly to what looked like a disused dusty counter at the side of the bar. He took a key from a hook that belonged to pigeonhole shelves and handed it to Frank.

“Somewhere for the birds to come; that’s why we have bird watchers stay here,” he said, smiling.

“Yes, I can imagine.”

Frank paid for a week and, as Mr Ron began to walk away, the Thai turned back to face Frank. “There’s a fridge behind the counter, help yourself. Just write down what you’ve had.”

With that, Mr Ron disappeared on his bicycle down the path, moving awkwardly through the long grass.

Frank had a smoke on the patio and gazed at the view again. Did Mr Ron have a connection with Richard or this Greg character? He was supposed to meet Greg here in five days time, but right now the place was completely dead. There was no one else there at all.

He looked in the fridge and saw a couple of beers and some lemonade Sprites. The bottle tops were slightly rusted and, on closer inspection, all the drinks in the fridge were long out of date. Cardboard boxes filled with old newspapers lay neglected behind the counter. Opposite the bar were more boxes piled up and an old sofa that had definitely seen better days.

He then checked out the room, which seemed clean and in order, then looked in the toilet and showers. Dead leaves fluttered across the pale tiled floor and large cobwebs lurked in the corners. It didn’t look like there had been any guests for some time.

Frank lay on his bed, watching the ceiling fan whip through its rotation, and felt his eyelids flicker as they became heavy.

***

As if it were a harbinger of the death to come, a black crow flew across the road ahead and perched on the dark tree that looked evil to Frank’s eyes. The bird hopped along towards the end of a branch and then suddenly froze as if to watch them drive by.

“You’re driving too fast, Patrick!”

“No, I’m bloody not. It’s a dual carriageway, a 70 miles per hour limit…”

Frank pulled his coat tighter around him as if to blanket out the anxiety.

“It’s still too fast, I don’t like it!” his mother shouted from the passenger seat.

“Stop arguing, I hate it,” Frank whined, his little fingers fidgeting uncontrollably. His father turned his head slightly to address Frank. “Sorry, Frankie. Your mother, she’s…”

“Watch out for that bloody lorry. It hasn’t seen…”

The memory dimmed; time slowed down, taking its toll; spinning and rushing forward into the blackness. And then only a boy’s scream remained.

A light faded into the darkness, circling slowly and then the face of a concerned woman filled his vision. “Are you awake?”

A dull pain on the side of the head helped bring the face into sharp focus. A nurse, with brown friendly eyes, clicked the torch off and stared down intently, brown wisps of hair fell around the back of her ears.

“Can you speak?” she asked.

The boy coughed and mumbled something which the nurse could not hear. “Do you want something to drink?” The boy shook his head.

“Where’s my mum and dad?” he asked before coughing again.

“Shhh. It’s ok. You try and get some more sleep, now.”

***

Frank opened his eyes, his mouth felt like sandpaper and there was a distinct buzzing in his head. He sat up slowly and decided to stroll down to Krabi town for a bite to eat as the contact was not due for a good four hours.

Draining his beer bottle in the empty bar, Frank looked at his watch, a fake Omega he had picked up in Bangkok. Finally, it was nearly time to meet his Greg character.

After a walk back up the hill from the town to sit on the veranda at the ‘Bird House’ and listening to the crickets, Frank watched the odd starling fly across the horizon. He did a batch of press ups to burn off some energy and then paced around the patio.

About an hour later, Greg arrived and shook Frank’s hand. He was French, average height, with a dark ponytail and goatee beard. He wouldn’t look out of place on the backpack circuit. They went to Frank’s room and Greg gave Frank a pack of two hundred cigarettes.

“Thanks. And the gems?”

Greg looked at him quizzically for a moment and then smiled.

“They’re in one of the packs.”

“Gems, not drugs, right? That’s what we agreed.”

The man looked offended for a moment.

“You can check. Definitely not drugs.”

“OK. So where do you want me to go?” asked Frank.

Greg moved to the bed and took out a map of Bangkok, laying it flat on the yellow sheets, and pointed to a street near the Bangkok railway station with a pen.

“There’s a country and western bar called ‘Texan Bill’s’. Richard will meet you there and pay you. Get there for the eighteenth. Seven o’clock in the evening.”

He folded up the map again and put it in his pocket. His eyes flicked around the spartan room as he held out his hand.

“That’s all. It’s a piece of cake. See you again, perhaps.”

Greg left the room and Frank listened to the hum of his car disappear as he stared at the Lucky Strike cigarettes on the bed. He picked them up. They were shrink-wrapped in clear film as if brand new.

The following day, Frank took the overnight tourist coach back to Bangkok. He hardly slept and his mind flipped between Jodie, his new friend Richard and then once again, Maria.

It was a strange way to say goodbye, disappearing like that. Still, she didn’t owe him anything. It wasn’t like they were an item. Frank couldn’t help wondering if he’d see her again. There were so many faces while travelling, he thought, most of the time they turned up again somewhere along the trail.

Frank didn’t intend to hang around Bangkok for long. He wanted to sort out a new passport from the Embassy to replace the stolen one and get his money.

Texan Bill’s was a themed country and western bar, where the waitresses wore cowboy Stetson hats and a small band played bluegrass to the delight of what Frank assumed was Bangkok’s American ex-pat community.

Richard was in a corner booth and waved at Frank.

“Well? Easy peasy, right?’ he said, grinning at Frank as he sat down. Frank had the cigarette pack in a plastic carrier bag and held onto it tightly. Richard nodded, immediately understanding Frank’s expression that told him he wanted to get straight down to business.

“OK, I need to check the goods…in the back.” He jerked a thumb behind him towards the toilets.

Frank hesitated for a moment and then slowly pushed the bag across the table and watched as Richard disappeared with it into the restroom. A waitress took Frank’s order for a beer and then he waited, trying to ignore the growing tension in his stomach. He needed that money badly and as he closely watched the toilet door, began to wonder what would happen if the man called Greg and just given him a normal carton of cigarettes, with no gems. Frank hadn’t checked them. Deep down, he hadn’t wanted to know.

The door opened and Richard made his way back towards him, expressionless. Easing back into the booth, he placed the carrier bag onto the bench next to him. His hand moved under his shirt and he unclipped a shoulder money pouch and handed it over to Frank.

“Sorry about the sweat, mate. But it’s all good. Here’s what we agreed.”

Frank took the pouch and checked the contents under the table. He allowed an internal sigh of relief at the sight of the notes inside.

“Have you ever been to a Thai boxing match, Frank?”

***

The atmosphere was heavy with smoke and the cries of a thousand Thai yelps as the opponents literally kicked the s**t out of each other. Their combination of punching and kicking blurred fast and furious in the caged ring, jabbing at each other like furious cockerels.

Richard turned to Frank, sweat glistening on his forehead. “This is what it’s all about, eh Frank?”

Frank nodded silently, unsure of a reason to argue.

“So, why could Greg or someone else not have brought them up?”

“Simple logistics, Frank,” said Richard. “Yes, any number of people could do it, but people I work with are very busy. Also, I need Greg in the south at all times. Anyway, I trust your face and you’re from the old country.” He patted Frank on the back in a jovial gesture of friendship.

At that moment a short, stocky Thai man came up and spoke to Richard in Thai. Frank couldn’t hear them anyway and continued to watch the match. The man in the blue corner was getting the upper hand and getting kicks and punches through his opponent’s defence.

“Frank, this is Police Lieutenant General Chatri Anuwat of the Thai Royal police, for the Bangkok province.”

Frank shook hands and felt slightly unnerved that Richard was introducing him to a Thai policeman, a very high level one at that.

As if reading his mind, Richard winked at him. “It’s OK.”

The police lieutenant smiled at Frank but said nothing. His eyes studied him for a moment before returning to the boxing ring. He drank some kind of liquor from a paper cup and was approached by another Thai man who took a wad of Thai Baht notes from him. Frank guessed that the police lieutenant was having a fairly hefty bet on the outcome.