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“I trust you.”
Khin Myat shuffled his feet and looked down, half-guilty.
“I need to tell you something,” he said.
Calvino leaned against the wall.
“What do you have to tell me?”
“I give lottery numbers to Naing Aung in the morning before he sees his first client. Then, when he has a consultation, he has a vi
sion and tells them a number, one that I’ve given him. Afterwards, they come to my table, see the number and buy the ticket. I give him a percentage of the sales.”
“I’m glad you told me,” said Calvino. “I pretty much had Naing Aung’s number from the first time I saw him. Let’s keep our information about the stall between the two of us.”
“Understood.”
Calvino raised the binoculars and scanned the lane. He caught sight of Colonel Pratt walking on the pavement. He saw the Colonel raise his cell phone to his face. Calvino answered the call.
“Turn to two o’clock,” said Calvino. “First staircase on your right.”
Ending the call, he put a hand on Khin Myat’s shoulder.
“You did the right thing telling me, coming clean. Not that I don’t trust Naing Aung, but I don’t want his assignment to start appearing in his dream analysis. That could cause a problem.”
“Investigators are paid to avoid problems.”
Calvino liked the innocent charm of Khin Myat.
“If that shipment of cold pills arrives, I’ll see that you get a bonus.”
“I’ll split it with Naing Aung.”
“That’s up to you. But I ain’t saying anything to him.”
Colonel Pratt appeared at the top of the stairs. His first words were addressed to Khin Myat.
“Are you sure about the address on the box?”
Calvino had gone over the name and address in Thailand several times with Khin Myat, but the Colonel wanted to hear it straight from the source.
“That’s what she said. I didn’t personally see it. Like I told Mr. Calvino, the woman who did see it, my old school friend ever since she was a child, has a good eye for detail. If she says she saw something, I believe it.” He smiled. “But it doesn’t matter whether I believe it. It’s whether you do.”
The Colonel had already had someone pull records of corporate directors and shareholders from the Ministry of Commerce. G.A.J. Electronics Ltd. listed two shareholders connected to well-known names in business and political circles. The proxies never fooled anyone who knew who the proxy stood for. But to be wrong in an accusation of this kind was career suicide. To be right, unfortunately, was even worse.
Colonel Pratt looked at his watch.
“What time does that train arrive?”
“In thirty minutes,” said Khin Myat. “Unless it’s late. Then maybe one, two hours.”
It was the kind of open-ended answer that, like a dream, had many interpretations, and a Thai fully understood that each one was as probable as the next.
EIGHTEEN
Pha Yar Lan Train Station at Scott’s Market
FROM THE NARROW lane leading to the train station entrance, Calvino turned and shielded his eyes as he stared up at the second floor balcony that ran along the side of the colonial-style market building. Khin Myat leaned over the balcony railing, with his own binoculars, watching Calvino standing to the right of a column. Calvino swept the balcony, freezing on Khin Myat, catching a glint of sunrays from the glasses.
