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“You were running pills before your old man turned you down for the loan?”
“One run before. Two runs after. Yadanar Khin’s old man had the power to lift the phone and get Wai Wan out with one call.”
The beef with his old man hadn’t been the only reason Rob had run away from Bangkok. The old man had no idea. The young man that his father thought of as a street entertainer had been walking the shadow line, looking for the fast, easy money.
Rob had hit the usual dead end. He wanted out in a line of work where “no way out” was the rule.
“But a problem came up when they wanted you to make one more run.”
“It was more than that. I saw someone I shouldn’t have seen.”
“Who was that?”
Rob took another drink and stretched his arms, folding one around the Black Cat’s shoulder.
“Yeah, I ran into a guy named Narit, who used to hang out at the Black Cat Bar in Bangkok. I met him there once. His old man had an import/export company in Bangkok. Something to do with electronics for car transmissions assembled at some industrial estate on the Eastern Seaboard, in Chonburi Province. He also had an uncle who was on the board of a hospital and just bought an S-Class Benz. The night I met him, his uncle had let him borrow the car and we walked out front, where he’d parked it, and he took me for a ride on Sukhumvit Road. After that, Narit had a few drinks and bragged about the important people he was connected to, and told me that if I ever had a problem, I should let him know.
“On my last run, it’d been arranged for me to pick up the suitcase at the usual place here in Rangoon. I go there and I run into Narit. He’s not happy to see me. In fact, he’s pissed off, asking what the hell am I doing there? Was I following him? Looking to make trouble?
“And I said, ‘Man, I’m just picking up a case and taking it to Bangkok. What are you doing here?’
“And Narit says, ‘I think someone told you I’d be here, and you’re playing me for a fool. You think I’m stupid?’
“It got heavy. Narit pushed me hard, almost knocked me down. I recovered and pushed him back. He bounced off a shelf of pills, knocking off a dozen boxes. It made him lose face.
“He pulled out a knife, and I said, ‘Hey, man, what are you going to do with that?’ And he said, ‘Tell me why you’re setting me up.’ And I said, ‘You’re prasat daek. Shit crazy. I had no idea you’d be in Rangoon. How would I know that, man?’
“And he said, ‘Exactly how did you know that?’
“Finally I turned and walked away. He said, ‘Hey, I thought you came for something?’
“And I said, ‘I changed my mind. I got the wrong address. See you around.’”
“What was the address?”
“I heard you on the phone tell my father that my case was closed. So why do you want to know about this, man?”
Calvino looked hard into his eyes.
“I’m square with your father. But you’re not square with me. Last time I remember, you were in the back of a Lexus with a couple of heavies who looked like they had some serious plans to cause you a universe of pain before they finished you off. And it ain’t over. Unless you want to spend the rest of your life in this room eating what someone slides under the door, you need to keep me on your side.
“You want to go back. But right now you can’t. Narit’s told you that if he finds you back in Thailand you’re a dead man. If I’m wrong about that, you don’t have to give me the address.”
“The covered market at 27th Street. Stall number A782. That makes us square,” said Rob.
Calvino leaned forward from the edge of the twin bed, his face a foot away from Rob’s, and said as his cell phone rang, “I’ll get back to you on that.”
It was Jack Saxon on the line, though he didn’t give his name.
“Richard Smith, you should come over and let me buy you a drink. Sulking alone in your room is no way to spend time in Rangoon.”
Saxon had started the conversion without any introduction, jumping in midstream and expecting Calvino to follow.
“I’m a little busy, Jack.”
“Did you make it to Cherry Mann?”
“Yeah, Pratt and I found it.”
