Captured (14 page)

Neil ushered him out of the room, placing moderate pressure on his shoulder with a large hand. “We’ve got fourteen hours to talk about it on the plane. We’ll get to the bottom of it.”

Neil’s bike was parked a few doors down. Heathrow airport was fifteen miles away, but the powerful Honda made light work of the London traffic. They made it to Departures with twenty minutes to spare. As they walked through the revolving doors, Simon grabbed Neil’s arm, his fingers digging into its flesh.

“What’s wrong?” Neil turned back to face him.

“Your passport, have you got it? We booked the flights in my house and never went back to get it, in all of the confusion we didn’t think to go back.”

“It’s fine. I had it biked over. You go and join the queue and I’ll pick it up.”

They’d gone straight from security to the gate, no time or inclination to browse in the numerous duty free outlets. The flight was already boarding. They shuffled along at the back of the queue, exhausted. Once they took off, there would be little they could do for fourteen hours. As soon as they sat down in their comfortable lounger seats, Neil turned to Simon, who was staring out the porthole window.

“Why would he hack your computer?”

Simon turned around. “I don’t know. It’s not like I’m a threat to him.”

“You said there was something else he had on you to keep you quiet.”

“He does,” Simon said, “but I don’t want to talk about it.”

“So there can be no doubt in his mind that you’re not a threat to him.”

“No.”

“He could have planted the bug to be sure of that. But it doesn’t explain why he went to work at the bank. He could just as easily have kept an eye on you from afar.”

Simon scoffed. “Who are you, Dr. Phil? I thought IT was your domain.”

Neil looked at him, careful to keep his tone level. “Do you want to find Kirsty?”

Simon shook his head quickly, then nodded. “Sorry, of course I do. I just don’t have an answer for you. I grew up with him, but it turns out I didn’t have a clue what he was really like. I just don’t think we’re going to be able to just snap our fingers and work out what he’s thinking.”

“I don’t care what we do if it helps me find Grace,” Neil shot back, before regaining his cool. “It’s too much of a coincidence that he stalks you and then ends up shagging your girlfriend.”

Simon winced, but Neil continued.

“Maybe he’s playing with you. Using her to get to you.”

Simon sighed.

Neil looked at him. “Look I’m sorry. We should get some sleep. Here, take one of these, I had them sent over with my passport. It’ll knock you out. Don’t worry; you’ll be fresh as a daisy when we land.”

Simon swallowed the pill dry and settled back against the cushioned headrest, hoping its effects would kick in soon.

Neil took his phone out and tapped away until the stewardess came and leaned down to speak to him.

“I’m afraid you need to turn that off now, sir,” she smiled, standing up again.

“No problem,” Neil smiled back. “Would you mind waking me in five hours?”

“Of course.”

Five hours later, Neil awoke with a start. The stewardess smiled apologetically.

“Thanks,” he whispered, stretching expansively. He ignored the entertainment unit in front of him, instead standing up and walking to the front of the cabin. He spoke with the stewardess a moment, then took the phone into the bathroom, locking the door. Simon sat sprawled in his seat, snoring.

“Mike, any news?” he whispered, just loud enough for his friend to hear him in Bangkok. The plane was somewhere over central Asia; still several hours to go before they landed, and even longer before they made it out of the airport and into central Bangkok.

“No, sorry man,” his friend’s voice crackled down the line. “I’ve got some guys scoping out the apartment and I’ve had no word from them either.”

Neil sighed. “You know what to do if–”

“Yeah. Don’t worry.”

“How can I not worry Mike? I’ll call you again in a while.” He ended the call and returned to his seat.

Grace opened her eyes slowly and with great difficulty. She had no idea how long she’d been asleep. Her mind felt like it had been filled with cement, and she struggled for several minutes to make sense of her surroundings and the pain that emanated from... everywhere.

Slowly it trickled back and she willed herself to stop crying: she could barely open her eyes as it was. What was in those pills he’d made her swallow? She tried to sit up but felt resistance when she tried moving her arms even slightly. She started to turn her head slowly, trying to block out the pain that now shot through her skull.

Facing slightly left now, she took in her surroundings. She recognised the curtains. Grey. She was still in the apartment. Groggy, she slowly spread her fingers, touching the surface beneath her. It was soft: fabric. This must be the second bedroom. She bit her bottom lip with difficulty, realising that her mouth too was grossly swollen, and tried to sit up once more. Whimpering with pain, she found that she still couldn’t move.

Making one last herculean effort, she lifted her head clear off the bed and looked down. Ropes covered her body, from her chest down to her ankles. There was nothing else in the room apart from a pile of black bin liners in one corner. Her head flopped back on to the mattress as she tried to get away from the pain.

Grace opened her eyes again; the pain came flooding back when she did so. Her eyes felt less swollen now, but the unnatural pain in her head hadn’t subsided. As her vision cleared she heard a voice in her right ear.

“Feeling better?” She couldn’t see his face but she recognised the voice immediately: the cold, indifferent tone was ingrained in her mind forever now, it seemed.

She stayed silent, not knowing what to say; worried that she might enrage him if she answered incorrectly.

He appeared not to notice. “You were supposed to die,” he said matter-of-factly, as much to himself as to her.

She closed her eyes slowly and remained silent, desperately willing back the tear she felt inch its way to her right ear.

“I’m sure I gave you enough pills,” she heard his voice rise in inflection, as if he was smiling now. It was impossible for her to be sure without turning her head. She didn’t want to look into those cold eyes again. “Even looked it up online. From an internet cafe, I don’t know, do they trace web searches related to suicides?” he trailed off, paying her no attention to now, but the smile had stayed in his voice.

He’s amused
, she thought.
Psychotic bastard
.

“I’m going to have to go back and check again, make sure I get it right this time.” He stopped abruptly. She could feel his eyes boring into the side of her head. “Get well soon Grace, I need you strong enough to swallow the next lot
yourself
.”

She allowed the tears to flow when she heard the door close.
So he’s not going to murder me, I have to do it myself.
Her tears were unstoppable now as she imagined her parents’ reactions. Her devout catholic mother’s devastation would be compounded further by the fact that she’d died at her own hands: a mortal sin in the eyes of the church.

Her tears dried up as she railed against that thought. Her mother had worked gruelling hours when Grace was a child, supplementing her husband’s earnings to ensure that there was always food on the table, and enough money saved to send Grace to university. How could Grace let her down by simply allowing this pathetic madman to determine her fate? She had to think of way out.

Grace awoke. The throbbing in her head was still there now, but seemed less severe that it had been earlier. It was impossible to keep track of time in the dull room; the heavy curtains must have been lined with black-out fabric, as she never had any idea whether it was night or day. It seemed to her that the horns beeped and the people yelled nonstop throughout the days
and
the nights. She had no idea how long she’d been strapped here, but she was thankful for the outside noises, keeping her in touch with a world she had no intention of leaving any time soon. She wished it was slightly less noisy though: it was impossible to hear what was going on outside of the door to her room.

She had had no luck so far in trying to work her arms or legs free. Daniel had done an excellent job of securing her to the bed without causing any marks that might make her death look suspicious. But she hoped to change that. Biting her lip, she used the little leeway she had at her ankles to rotate her feet as quickly as she could: away, together. Away, together. She could feel the skin start to heat again; reopening the wounds from her previous work. The smell in the room was unbearable now; he had obviously expected her to die right away, and had made no allowances for her bodily functions.

Would anyone else miss her before she was due back at the office? Her mother knew that she was in Thailand, and had never called on her mobile phone before because she hated the ‘godforsaken, cancer-causing things’. Her father? She couldn’t remember the last time they had spoken. The hotel would just keep adding extra nights to her bill. It was up to her to get herself out of this mess. But what was she going to do? Fight her way out? She stared at the ceiling, thinking.

Simon and Neil stepped off the place and took deep breaths. Even the mix of air-conditioned air and aircraft fuel beat the stale air they’d been stuck with in the cabin.

Neil hit the call button a second time. Mike hadn’t answered on his first try. 

This time, Mike answered on the second ring. “Lennox. You land okay?” Mike knew there was no point in attempting pleasantries.

“Yeah. Any update Mike? Tell me the trace has gone through.”

“It’s some sophisticated equipment they got Lennox,” Mike answered, defensively. “But I broke through eventually. Your guy’s phone is rerouted to a number in Bangkok. It’s registered to the apartment.”

“And the CCTV?”

“Dead end. The building’s old, and there are some cameras set up in the building, but they’re duds. It doesn’t even have security.”

Neil thought for a moment. “Any chance of reactivating the cameras?”

“About the same chance you’d have with toy cameras.”Neil heard the smile in his voice. “They’re shells with no working parts.”

“Right.” Neil held the phone to his chest. They had reached the immigration counters. He elbowed Simon and pointed to the far corner, before resuming the conversation. “And your people at the apartment?”

“They haven’t seen a thing so far. They have copies of the pictures you emailed me.” Neil had sent photos of Grace and Kirsty from Grace’s birthday party that year, as well as the portrait shot of Daniel from the bank’s corporate directory. “I only confirmed the address a short time ago. What do you want to do big guy?”

“Where are you?”

“At home. A buddy of mine has a place in Sukumvit, near the apartment. I’ll text you the address and wait for you there.”

“Great.” Neil hung up and took out his passport.

Simon looked at him expectantly as the queue for foreign passport holders snaked forward. 

“He’s definitely been at the same address. There’s been no further activity on Grace’s phone, so I’m inclined to assume that something’s gone wrong.”

Simon frowned, affronted. “Of course there’s something wrong. The guy’s a psychopath!”

Neil nodded, only half paying attention. He handed his passport to the immigration official, smiling politely. They breezed through customs, having brought minimal baggage.

The wait for a taxi seemed interminable. Each had already disclosed all of the pertinent information they had, or, at least, all that they were willing to share. Neil wondered what Daniel’s secret ammunition against Simon could be: he knew it must be pretty severe in order to scare him this much. His opinion was changing: he had never liked Simon. He had always struck Neil as being so shrewd and careful. Now he knew what had caused it, he felt sorry for Simon, although the other man’s passivity was beginning to tire him.

“Do you think she’s already dead?” Simon’s question came from out of the blue, even though they had both asked themselves that question several times since they left London.

Neil looked at him. It was one thing to think it, another to say it. He was saved by the arrival of three taxis all at once, which propelled them to the front of the queue. They were faced with a podium, behind which sat an angry-looking woman wearing a blue uniform, who quizzed them about their destination.

An hour later, the cab spat them out in front of a nondescript apartment building. Neil paid and sprinted to the door, and pressed a doorbell.  The door clicked open.

They entered the lift and ascended in silence, and were greeted by Mike on the fourth floor. Mike was short, squat and pot-bellied. He looked like a child beside Neil, but the larger man winced from the strength of his friend’s handshake.

“Hey man, come inside. Sorry about your girlfriend. Nice girl.”

“Ex,” Neil corrected, looking around. The front door opened straight into a large open-plan living room. The glass coffee table was spread with mobile phones, two laptops and a tangle of wires. “Any developments since we spoke?”

“Nada. What do you want to do big guy?”

Neil sat down on one of the white leather couches and exhaled loudly. He glanced at Simon for an instant before turning to Mike, who was flanked by two other men, neither of whom Neil had met before. “I don’t know. We’ve moved out of my area of expertise.”

One of Mike’s acquaintances stepped forward. “Neil. Mike tells me you’ve helped him out a lot in the past. I’m Paul.” Paul was a giant; taller than Neil by almost a head. He wore a close-fitting black t-shirt, which drew attention to his bulging muscles and grey combat trousers. If it wasn’t for his hair, Neil would have put him down as a mercenary. Messy light brown waves escaped from his ponytail and fringed his face. It was an incongruous sight, and made him look more comical than menacing.

Mike raised his eyebrows, gesturing his head towards Paul, as if to say ‘see?’

Paul continued. “Mike called me yesterday and filled me in on your situation. I’m happy to help.”

“Paul and Aaron here have been down to your apartment building and had a look around. Security’s pretty lax,” Mike said. “You said you don’t want to involve the police. So I think we should get down there as soon as possible. How well do you know this guy? How many people do you figure he has working for him?”

Neil nodded his agreement and looked to Simon to answer.

Simon cleared his throat and looked around the room. “I’ve known him for years. I wouldn’t put anything past him. He’s–” He spoke hesitantly and looked at the corner of the room, as if he was struggling to find the right words. The four men waited. “He’s unpredictable. I wouldn’t put anything past him. And he’s rich. And used to getting what he wants.”

Aaron, not as tall as Paul, but similarly bulky, looked at Mike impatiently. He was dressed more formally, in a straining blue-striped shirt and beige chinos. Mike didn’t respond, either pretending not to notice or absorbed by Simon’s answer.

“Well, we’ve had someone watching the building for nearly twenty four hours now, and they haven’t seen anyone enter or leave,” Aaron cut in.

Mike listened to him, nodding. “You want to get this over with then?”

Neil nodded. “Let’s go.”

The apartment building was just over a mile from the one where they had met Mike. They crammed in the lift and descended to the basement car park. Paul and Aaron walked ahead, simultaneously opening the driver doors of two gleaming black SUVs. Mike gestured Simon and Lennox into Paul’s vehicle.

When they had driven through the gate and onto the street above, Neil leaned forward. “Where did you get these guys?” he murmured to the headrest in front of him.

Paul was focussed on the gridlocked traffic in front of them, seemingly not listening. Mike turned around as much as his seatbelt would allow and inclined his head further to the right. “I’m surprised you have to ask Lennox. Let’s just say I’ve met a very diverse group of people since I left the insurance company and went freelance. It’s worked out in your favour, no?”

Lennox smiled. “Definitely. I really appreciate this, Mike. It would have been much riskier if it was just me and Simon here.”

Mike laughed. “Thank me later. Now. There are two guys at the building already. One in front watching the main entrance, and one in back watching the fire stairs. I know that makes a lot of us, but I’m not – and I can see that your friend’s not – much of an action man.”

“So we gotta aim for the element of surprise, Aaron says,” Mike continued. “We’ll–”

The car swerved violently around a corner; they were all thrown to the right.

Paul smiled back apologetically.

Mike threw him a foul look. “Lennox, you’ll go in with Paul and Aaron. Me and Simon here’ll wait with James out front.”

Simon spoke for the first time. “I know him. I’ll be able to–”

“He’s right. We need to be as undetectable as possible, Simon,” Lennox cut in.
We can do without your emotional agenda.

“We’re here, the building is just down that street,” Paul announced, opening his door.

They bundled out of the car. Aaron was already out of his and walking towards them. “Mike fill you guys in? Keep your phones on. Lennox, you come with us.”

They sauntered around the corner onto a quieter street. Luckily for them, the entrance to the building was as close as Paul had promised. The street was lined with multi-storey apartment blocks like the one they were about to enter: hundreds of eyes could have been watching them at that moment. Mike and Simon had hung back, not wanting to make the already prominent trio even more conspicuous. Paul broke off and hurried to the stairwell door as Aaron and Daniel walked quietly through the shabby lobby to the lifts.

On the third floor, Aaron peered out cautiously when the doors opened. Paul, waiting outside, gestured that it was safe for them to leave. The short walk down the corridor felt like an eternity for Neil, especially when their silent journey on tiptoe magnified the unnatural silence in the corridor. The rest of the city was a melting pot of sounds; this was pure buzzing silence.

They reached the door of 305. Neil looked at Paul quizzically. They hadn’t discussed this part. Heart pounding, he hung back. Surfer hairstyle aside, he seemed to have this in hand.  Paul rapped on the door sharply.
What the hell is he doing?

“De-liiiiiv-r’y,” he shouted, somehow pitching his voice several frequencies higher than the gravelly bark Neil had come to expect from him – and in a very passable accent.

Aaron appeared not to have noticed, but Neil couldn’t stifle a smile.

They waited.

Paul tried again. “De-liiiiv-r’y. Yo’ foo’ ready,”

Nothing.

Paul glanced backwards at Aaron, who nodded. He removed a small wallet from a pocket on his trousers and fished out a sliver of metal. His face screwed up in concentration, he leaned down awkwardly and silently inserted the tool into the lock. Paul stood up a moment later and turned the round handle. He glanced around at the others again and tilted his head slightly towards the door.

This was it.

Daniel’s train of thought was destroyed by a low, insistent buzzing thrumming from his laptop. He launched off the couch onto the floor in front of the table and swung the laptop around to face him. He typed furiously for a few seconds, then paused and scanned the screen, eyes darting.

The seventeen inch screen was split into six identically-sized rectangles. Each displayed a different scene: currently on display was a view of the lobby, the corridor outside the apartment, the stair-well, both lifts and an outward-facing shot from the front of the building. He pressed ‘F1’ and the display switched. The lobby and corridor views remained, but were now accompanied by a shot of the back entrance, the two corridors below and a view of the front of the building.

Three men he didn’t recognise had tripped the sensor he had affixed to the front door of the building. He watched their progress across the lobby and rubbed his beard thoughtfully. Every day he looked more like one of the hippy backpackers he saw walking around the area. His newly bleached blonde hair added to the effect.

Although it was practically empty, the building still had other tenants. Their movements triggered the numerous motion detectors he had secreted around the building, causing him to rush to check the cameras. This time, instead of recognising a fellow tenant or service person from their demeanour, he could tell something was wrong. Particularly when they split up and one of the men moved swiftly to the stairs. There was also their size and dress to consider: two looked like mercenaries – one appeared to be wearing a wig, but this did nothing to detract from his suspicion. The other man was large too, but seemed different to the other two. He was surprised at Simon’s bravery. Where had he found this lot? Or was Simon even behind this? His mind wandered as he toggled the camera view again.

He had picked up the cameras and sensors for a pittance in a little shop in the city. He now appreciated the fact that one could acquire
anything
in Bangkok, usually with no questions asked.

He watched the man in the stairwell sprint up the steps, two at a time, constantly looking around as he approached the camera. He would never see it: it was scarcely larger than a pin head. Daniel had hid it within the instructions on the fire alarm casing.

Something else caught his eye. He clicked on one of the images to zoom in, and squinted. He smiled. It was Simon alright. He had walked along the street with a fat man, and was now climbing into the back of a car parked across the street. Daniel smirked. He had seen the car before and had suspected that its occupant had been watching the building. A western man sitting in a parked car was conspicuous enough, but this one had been working in shifts with another man. He wouldn’t have noticed them without the cameras, he conceded.

He closed the zoom view. Simon wasn’t his primary concern. He saw the man from the stairwell pass the lifts. He stopped and waited. Moments later, the two other men left the lift. The cameras weren’t wired for sound, and the picture wasn’t good enough for him to be able to read their lips. They crept along the corridor. Towards his apartment. He watched as the tall one signalled to the others before bending to work on the lock. His eyes flicked to one of the other views. The other men were still in the car across the street from the building. They probably had someone stationed at the back entrance too, he supposed, although he hadn’t seen anyone there. He looked at the other image again. The three men were still outside his apartment.  The tall one stood and straightened. He looked back at the others with his hand on the handle. Daniel watched as each one nodded briskly. He held his breath.