The Assassin on the Bangkok Express Read online

  ‘Of course, I do. But Jacinta, it is not as if I ever asked you to do this before.’ He glanced over her shoulder at Cavalier. ‘Look, as I told you, if you do this I promise you a nice extra bonus.’

  Jacinta stood and towered over Azelaporn.

  ‘Go and play with your whores!’ she said with a fierce glare. Azelaporn rubbed his face. His bullying had never worked when dealing with her. He had never pushed her too hard. He was intimidated whenever he shoved her to a brink and she answered back. Azelaporn had witnessed many times her demolition of men twice her weight in the Muay Thai boxing ring, and the ferocity of her attacks on all opponents. He turned and marched out of the bar.

  Jacinta asked Cavalier if she could join him. He bounced up and in halting, yet confident Franglais ordered her a glass of Champagne.

  ‘My boss suspects you and the Indonesians,’ she said quietly in Thai. ‘He wants me to be close to you; as close as I can.’

  ‘I am sure that is not necessary.’

  ‘I agree,’ she said, holding up her glass to him, ‘but I may have to do what he wants.’ She sipped the Champagne and leaned in close. ‘He has had your cabin searched.’

  Cavalier could not quite hide his concern. His forehead stretched. He was not always at ease masquerading as other people and this was another vulnerable moment.

  ‘My cabin?’ he asked.

  Jacinta nodded.

  Cavalier was relieved. He had moved all his notes and his backpack of rifle pieces into the presidential suite.

  ‘Hmm,’ he mumbled, ‘did he find anything?’

  ‘Apparently not. But he is set against you for some reason.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Perhaps because you are a good-looking Frenchman. He hates farang.’ She looked away and then locked eyes on him. ‘He wants me to take action.’

  ‘What “action” exactly?’

  ‘Sleep with you. What do you think of that?’

  ‘Might be the beginning of a beautiful friendship, or the end of one.’

  ‘He suspects you of something,’ she said.

  ‘Of what, I wonder?’

  Jacinta gestured helplessly. ‘He is a supreme ass-hole,’ she said softly, ‘a dangerous man. He is whimsical and paranoid.’

  ‘What really made him suspicious about me?’

  ‘Well,’ she said slowly, and began counting on her fingers, ‘one: you are travelling alone; two: you are not in the same age bracket as most of the retirees; three: you look very fit, four: an out-of-work teacher could not afford the trip, and five …’

  ‘What do you think?’

  ‘I think you are not who you purport to be,’ Jacinta said with a cunning look. ‘You can drop your pretence with me. It is an impressive image, but it did not take me long to work it out.’

  ‘What gave it away? My removing the beard?’

  She shook her head. ‘Your mannerisms.’

  Cavalier half-smiled. It made him nervous once more, although he had trust in her not to disclose his identity.

  ‘Also the way you walk,’ she added after some thought. ‘You still have that slight limp from your Achilles problem.’ She sipped her drink. ‘With those things in mind, I began to study your face, your body, your hand movements, your manner. You are not a great actor. A good one maybe, with your French gestures and accent, but not a great one.’

  ‘Third-rate, I’d say.’

  ‘No one can cover up everything.’

  Cavalier felt vulnerable. He sipped his drink and changed the subject: ‘What do you think about the Indonesians?’

  Jacinta shrugged. ‘They could have been just nosey. They might be doing some industrial espionage to copy the train’s design. Then again, they had maps. They could simply be tourists.’

  ‘Unlikely,’ Cavalier said. ‘Gregory had them under surveillance in Chiang Mai.’

  ‘For what?’

  ‘Terrorism. They had been plotting something in Australia. What if they learnt of the bullion?’

  ‘Go on?’

  ‘ISIS and its affiliates in the south—the Malaysians, the Philippines and Indonesians—would love to put their bloody paws on such booty.’ Jacinta stared. ‘The oil situation in Syria and Iraq is an issue. The fields are being bombed out of existence. If they haven’t got it, they can’t sell it. ISIS is on the way to defeat and running out of cash.’

  ‘Now you have me concerned,’ she said. ‘What would they be up to? Destroying the train? Stealing the bullion?’

  Cavalier sipped his drink as the pianist played ‘As time goes by’.

  ‘Suppose you were running an ISIS affiliate and your brothers in the Middle East put pressure on you to aid the cause.’

  ‘They are already robbing banks.’

  ‘Right. ISIS is also stepping up its hostage-taking. They could obtain a reasonable haul on the Express …’ He paused. ‘Imagine these two Indonesians were doing the reconnoitring for an attack.’

  29

  COWBOY AND CHAOS

  Hinkley returned to the bar with Cowboy, who had a bandage over the corner of his mouth. Cavalier, concerned, stood and enquired about his condition.

  ‘He’ll be okay,’ Hinkley said. ‘Just a small cut. See you at dinner …’

  Cavalier returned to his chair next to Jacinta, just as Dr Makanathan and her husband joined Hinkley and Cowboy at the bar.

  ‘Huloton seated those four at dinner last night,’ Jacinta said. ‘They hit it off. Three specialist doctors: one in psychiatry; one formerly in heart surgery; the third in DNA. They joked that they might write a book together: The intersection of the mind, heart and DNA.’

  The train manager took the microphone and announced that the second dinner sitting was ready. The guests began filing into the three dining rooms. Jacinta and Cavalier found their cubicle for four. Hinkley was already seated with Cowboy, who didn’t seem thrilled that Cavalier was joining them, although he was soon glued to Jacinta. Introductions were made just before the overweight, over-refreshed French chef, Monsieur Bonnet, appeared. He enthused about his concoctions, beginning with warm goat cheese soufflé with asparagus and a delicate Thai curry bouillon. Cavalier’s approving comments indicated he might be French. This triggered the chef into waxing lyrical about the main course of grilled snowfish with vegetables in a vermouth and soya sauce. He was interrupted by Cowboy, who brought his fist down hard on the table.

  ‘Monsieur,’ Hinkley said, ‘my son wants his fish and chips.’

  ‘Now?’ the chef asked more than a little miffed. ‘He does not want to try the soufflé?’

  ‘He will not eat goat.’

  ‘Madame, it is fromage!’

  ‘I appreciate that, but my son does not.’

  The chef was affronted and stormed off just as Azelaporn arrived in an excited state and whispered in Jacinta’s ear: ‘The Muslims have disappeared! They are not on the train!’

  ‘You’ve searched everywhere? The Mexican carriages too?’

  Azelaporn, still wearing his mirror-glasses, nodded vigorously.

  ‘Calm down,’ she said, staying composed herself, ‘if they have left …’

  ‘They didn’t return to their cabin after Kanchanaburi,’ Azelaporn said, raising his voice.

  ‘Your raid would have caused their departure.’

  Azelaporn went red and was about to abuse his deputy when he noticed everyone staring at him.

  Cowboy was disturbed by Azelaporn’s anger. He began swinging his left arm into the window frame: bang! bang! bang! Azelaporn glared at Cowboy and left. Cowboy farted, loudly enough for the next cubicle to be disturbed again. The smell caused Jacinta to cover her mouth.

  ‘Pardon-moi,’ Cavalier said with a grin as if he had been responsible, ‘I am sorry!’

  ‘You are so gallant,’ Jacinta said with a wry smile at Cavalier.

  ‘Oh shit!’ Hinkley said. ‘He hasn’t had his medication!’

  Cowboy kept up the steady hammering on the window and wall. Hinkley wrinkled her nose at
the strong smell while fiddling in her handbag. She took out pills. ‘He does that banging all night, every night. We have loud fans in the house at home to drown it out. The rest of my family can’t sleep otherwise.’ She lifted a glass of water to Cowboy’s lips, popped one pill in his mouth and urged him to swallow his medication. ‘He has broken stuff wherever we are,’ Hinkley said, ‘if I miss his medicine by even an hour.’ She gave a short laugh. ‘We are banned from two of my local cafes in Brisbane.’

  Cowboy kept up his window abuse as he swallowed two more pills. People in the next cubicle courteously said nothing.

  Huloton stood by their cubicle wringing his hands.

  ‘Your boss is in a terrible mood over the “departures”,’ he said to Jacinta. ‘He says he will fire you.’

  ‘He won’t. Let him simmer down. I shall attend to the issue when I am ready.’

  Huloton dropped his voice to a hoarse whisper: ‘But Madame, what if they ’ave placed a bomb somewhere?’

  ‘You’ve searched their cabin thoroughly, and the rest of the train?’

  ‘Oui, of course!’

  ‘Then you have done all you could.’

  Huloton retreated, dissatisfied. After a few minutes, Cowboy seemed to have settled with his medication. His mother noticed he was staring at Jacinta.

  ‘Don’t stare, Cowboy,’ she said, and turning to Jacinta added: ‘I’m sorry. I don’t think he has ever been close to someone as beautiful and elegant as you.’

  ‘Nor have I,’ Cavalier remarked, raising his glass to Jacinta.

  ‘No, seriously, he is intrigued, I can see it,’ Hinkley said ‘I’ve never seen him this way before.’ She chortled and said to Cavalier: ‘He is not happy with you; although you passed the Cowboy test.’

  ‘Oh?’ Cavalier said with a pout, ‘and what is that?’

  ‘When he struck you.’

  ‘Oh, it was nothing, Madame.’

  ‘Maybe. After something like that, people never come near us again!’

  Cavalier smiled politely. Cowboy didn’t seem to approve of the comments. He bashed the table, causing drinks to spill. A steward attended to the mess before the entrées were served.

  ‘You communicate with Cowboy well,’ Cavalier remarked. ‘How do you manage it?’

  ‘I use a special computer software package of words and pictures. He responds by pressing keys.’ She turned to Cowboy. ‘You’ve written some wonderful poetry, haven’t you Cowboy?’

  He looked blank, turned his head away and went on hitting the window.

  ‘I recall reading something about that,’ Cavalier said.

  ‘It was in the Australian papers,’ Hinkley said, ‘where did you read it?’

  ‘It was on a French news service,’ Cavalier said with a pretend frown, ‘on the Internet, I believe.’

  ‘Oh, I didn’t know that,’ Hinkley said, pleased the story about her son’s poetic skills had made the international news outlets. Cavalier tried to divert her from his faux pas. ‘It was quite beautiful if I recall. Something lyrical about him being lost in a void, or the world …’

  ‘Yes, yes,’ Hinkley said, brightening, ‘you have an excellent memory. And so does Cowboy. He will recall frightening detail about everything on this train and everything at all stops. He’ll recall even the positions of pot plants and rubbish bins.’

  ‘Does he know you are talking about him now?’ Cavalier asked.

  ‘He has an idea. He tunes in and out. Once he has seen or noticed any object, he can bring it back. It is a feature with some autistics, but not all, and it is confused by his Down syndrome condition.’

  When Hinkley turned her focus to spoon-feeding Cowboy, Jacinta rolled her eyes at Cavalier.

  ‘Maybe you are more a second-rate actor, after all,’ she whispered in his ear.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Your enthusiasm for information on him nearly blew your disguise. But you recovered well.’

  30

  JACINTA’S APPRECIATION

  Jacinta walked Cavalier back to his cabin after the meal.

  ‘Are you going to invite me in?’ she asked.

  ‘If you like; a nightcap perhaps?’

  Jacinta locked the door and approached him. Cavalier was surprised at her seductive manner. He was concerned not to antagonise or upset her in any way, given that she was the one person in Asia who could expose his double ‘game’. In effect, she held a life or death power over him, if she wished to exercise it. It made him wary and keen to avoid intimacy. So far, Jacinta had repeated her approach to the Mendez assignment by remaining a passive supporter, who had let Cavalier use his ingenuity and experience in challenging situations.

  ‘This is where I must find out what you are doing,’ she said, ‘who you really are.’

  Cavalier undid his bow tie and the top button of his shirt.

  ‘Hmm,’ she said nodding to his chest hair, ‘reminds me of an Australian with a similar chest full of hair.’

  ‘Yeah, well I used to wear a gold Buddha chain around my neck to show me where I should stop shaving.’

  Jacinta half-smiled. ‘You’re not that bad. Your chest is hardly a mohair sweater. I only saw this Australian naked once, or nearly so—in the dark at a hotel pool in Bangkok,’ she pulled at his shirt and exposed his scars from bullets. ‘And I never saw evidence of his past—like these.’ She ran her hand over the scars.

  Cavalier removed his jacket. He fixed them both a double malt whisky and ice. He saluted her as they sat on the plush sofa.

  ‘This is what’s called a “steadier”,’ he said, his expression more serious.

  They sat in silence, listening to the train’s beat before Jacinta remarked: ‘This is where I am under orders to find out about you.’

  ‘A gentle, seductive grilling, perhaps?’

  ‘I know this expression. I think it is better to say a “slow pan fried”.’

  ‘There is not much of interest really. Just a simple French peasant family from outside Montpelier.’

  ‘No French Foreign Legion?’

  ‘You know about the Legion?’

  ‘You were in it, Monsieur Claude?’

  ‘I wish I had been, for a short time at least.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘The experience.’

  ‘You like to work alone, no?’

  ‘I prefer it. I’ve known a few members of the Legion. They were spirited, devil-may-care.’

  ‘Doing France’s dirty work in North Africa?’

  ‘That is the downside,’ he said, ‘the reason I never bothered, although I was invited to join, twice. Similar to the CIA, the Legion wouldn’t give me clues as to what I’d be doing. I rejected their offer.’

  ‘When did the CIA want you?’

  ‘When I was a journalist in Melbourne. I was twenty-four. That was the first time. One of their reps in Australia had heard about my capacities other than in journalism. Without specifics for the job, I couldn’t judge what would be expected of me. Money was enticing, though—three times my newspaper salary. The downside was that I would not have my job in journalism. I needed more experience in the writing business.’

  ‘Did you ever find out what they wanted you for?’

  ‘I did, actually. It brought me to Chiang Mai for the first time.’

  ‘For what?’

  ‘Did you ever hear of the Handy Nugget Bank?’

  ‘Not really.’ Jacinta frowned. ‘Although the name is familiar. I think Azelaporn may have had a link to it, a long time ago.’

  Cavalier looked out the window again.

  ‘So what about this bank?’ she asked.

  ‘I’ve said enough.’

  ‘You see,’ Jacinta smiled mysteriously, ‘I have learnt something I did not know about you.’

  ‘True,’ he said. He reached and pulled a curtain across to reveal a blur of jungle in the darkness. ‘Is the train speeding up?’

  ‘Maybe,’ she said, reaching in her handbag for her phone and checking the time, �
��it’s not yet eleven p.m. Can’t be in the territory yet.’

  ‘What territory?’

  ‘Extremists’. The train doubles its speed and more through the south of Thailand.’

  ‘Why? Fearing an attack?’

  ‘The Express takes no chances. It would be hard to stop it at top speed.’

  They sat in silence for a few moments.

  ‘I don’t know how you plan to do it,’ she whispered.

  ‘Do what?’

  ‘Please, Victor, don’t play games.’

  Cavalier did not answer. He sipped his drink and looked out the window.

  ‘You know that there is a guard outside your door all the time?’ she said.

  ‘It’s a problem, I admit,’ he said.

  ‘Do you have help on board?’

  He stared out the window without answering.

  ‘You’re not thinking of—’

  ‘There are footholds and handgrips on all the carriages.’

  ‘You’ll be spotted and shot!’

  Cavalier pointed to the roof.

  ‘You are not going on top!’ she protested, ‘if we go under a bridge …’

  ‘There are two tunnels between here and our destination. Neither would cause a person to be struck if he was prone on the roof.’

  Jacinta looked concerned. ‘You’ve done your homework. But someone is going to recognise you,’ she said. ‘You really should escape. The Americans will deal with Cortez.’

  ‘Maybe they won’t. In any case, it’s my daughter I want to save. That’s the main priority.’

  ‘It’s all too dangerous,’ she hissed. ‘Azelaporn is suspicious. Remember, he saw the real you in Bangkok at the Satan’s Cave bar.’

  ‘And he came to a cricket match in Chiang Mai last year. I was playing and he wanted to interrogate me.’

  ‘Something will click in his mind. Especially if he does some recognition work. He did that last year when you escaped Thailand. He was smart enough to compare photos of you, and the Swede you impersonated. If he does that again, he will know it’s you.’

  ‘I’ll take the chance.’

  ‘Your disguise is good,’ Jacinta persisted. ‘However, if someone focuses on comparisons with real photos of you, they will make the link.’