The Half-Child (19 page)

‘
Jing reu
?' she said, a useful Thai expression that could mean either ‘is that so' or ‘bullshit', depending on the context.

‘I'm not talking about baby selling. I'm talking about baby
laundering
: taking children placed in institutional care and transforming them into orphans without consent.'

She paused to let it sink in.

‘So, notwithstanding the Thai government's excellent policies and safeguards, is it possible that criminal elements could arrange for the necessary paperwork to be forged?'

Another pause.

‘Very difficult,' Wichit said slowly, ‘but not impossible.

What evidence do you have for this baby laundering?'

‘No evidence yet, just a hunch. I'm working on it.'

‘Be careful, Jayne. For an operation like that to succeed it would need the support of powerful people with connections both inside and out of official channels. Make sure you don't tread on any toes.'

She liked the way the Police Major General translated English idioms into Thai.

‘I'll do my best. One last thing, what sort of time is involved in taking a child out of the country once it's been adopted?'

‘Again, it varies. For American citizens, assuming all the paperwork is in order, there's a wait of about a week while the immigration visa is issued.'

‘And that can only be done at the US Embassy in Bangkok?'

‘Correct.'

‘Thank you, sir.'

‘
Mai pen rai
,' Wichit said. ‘And, Jayne, if you do find any evidence of adoption fraud, I urge you to contact me immediately.'

‘Very well, Major General.'

‘I mean it,' he said.

Jayne read back over her notes. Conjecture. Guesswork.

Pure speculation. She wasn't lying when she told Police Major General Wichit all she had was a hunch. She lit a cigarette and started jotting down ideas for evidence.

Signed confessions from Frank Harding and Doctor Somsri: strike that. Copy of the baby's medical records: might be useful, worth considering, not sure how she'd get her hands on them. Copy of birth and death certificates: perhaps she could get these from Mayuree. Jayne could take a statement from Mayuree, too, about Kob's health prior to his being pronounced dead. Then again, no one would believe the word of a bar girl over Doctor Somsri. And was it fair to involve Mayuree in her investigation when there was still a possibility Kob was in fact dead?

She tapped the ash from her cigarette and closed her notebook labelled ‘Maryanne Delbeck Case'. She was working on Jim Delbeck's time. Could she justify pursuing an investigation that seemed tangential, at best, to his daughter's death? She flicked through her earlier notes and found her hastily scrawled reminder to follow up with Mayuree about Maryanne. Finding out what happened to Kob gave her the chance to get close to Mayuree, and she was sure Mayuree knew more about Maryanne than she was letting on.

Jayne took another drag of her cigarette and returned her thoughts to the conversation with the Marines. Tommy had taken pictures with his camera at the ceremony where Leroy and Alicia collected their baby. If Jayne could get her hands on those photos, at least she'd know if she was on to something.

24

T
ommy and Mitch were not at the B-52 Bar. She recognised Jerry and Earl from the previous evening, but they failed to recognise her. She nursed a beer for nearly an hour. When there was still no sign of Tommy and Mitch, Jayne tapped the redhead on the shoulder.

‘Hi,' she said. ‘Remember me?'

Jerry grunted.

‘The other guys who were here last night, Mitch and Tommy, you wouldn't happen to know where they are?'

Both men frowned.

‘M'am?'

‘The Marines,' she tried again, ‘the other guys whose asses I whipped on the pool table? Do you know where I might find them?'

‘Darn, you mean Mitch and Tommy!'

He pronounced Mitch as if it had two syllables, and Tommy to rhyme with army.

‘Blue Lagoon A-Go-Go.' He jerked his thumb northwards.

‘Thanks,' Jayne said.

‘Say, m'am, where're you from?' the redhead asked.

‘Australia.'

‘
Australia
? —Man, you got the strangest German accent I ever heard.'

Jayne mulled over this surreal exchange as she went in search of the go-go bar. She hoped for her country's sake the redheaded Marine was never at the receiving end of an order to bomb
Austria
.

The brisk walk to the Blue Lagoon was enough to make Jayne break out in a sweat. To the left of the entrance was a stage the size of a card-table where a dancer wearing a strategically draped lei of silk flowers and a grass micro-miniskirt was admiring her moves in a full-length mirror framed with plastic shells. Jayne peered around the woman's legs to check her reflection.

Her red face and messy hair put her at a disadvantage, given what she had planned. She couldn't explain her investigation to Tommy and Mitch. Leroy was Tommy's cousin and she doubted they'd conspire against him. She'd have to try and rekindle Tommy's interest of the previous evening and, when his guard was down, get her hands on his photos. What it might take to have him drop his guard made her nervous.

For once Jayne welcomed the icy blast of air-conditioning.

She paused in the doorway, allowing the sweat to evaporate and the heat subside while she scanned the crowd for Tommy and Mitch.

She saw them but they didn't see her, distracted by their drinking companions: two Thai women wearing the same costume as the go-go dancer at the door, only with smaller leis and skimpier grass skirts. More women, some topless, danced on stages in each corner of the room, mirrors capturing their every angle. Jayne could always pick the newcomers as the ones who made an effort to look erotic. The old hands just looked bored.

Tommy and Mitch had a bottle of Johnnie Walker Red Label whisky, a bucket of ice and a collection of mixers in the middle of their table. Their hostesses took turns to top up their highball glasses after each sip and at the rate they were going, the whisky wouldn't last the hour.

Jayne summoned Tommy's companion over and offered the woman one thousand baht of Jim Delbeck's money to change places with her. The waitress raised her eyebrows, shrugged and accepted the money without comment. Jayne strolled over to the table. Tommy's eyes lit up when he saw her.

‘When you didn't show up at the B-52 Bar I thought you'd left town,' she said, taking a seat and nodding at Mitch.

‘Now I see you got a better offer. Am I that expendable?'

She held her cigarette towards Tommy in a way she hoped made her look more
femme fatale
than wanker.

‘No m'am,' Tommy said, flicking open his Zippo.

‘It's no big deal.' She drew back on her cigarette and blew the smoke over his head. ‘Just don't call me m'am, okay.'

Tommy grinned and signalled for a waitress to bring a fresh glass. He poured three fingers of whisky.

‘Coke?'

‘Soda.'

He added ice, handed it to Jayne, leaned close. ‘I hope it's not too strong for you.'

His breath in her ear raised the hairs on the back of her neck. Role-playing was Jayne's favourite part of detective work, but on this occasion she wasn't sure what she was playing with.

She leaned back and inhaled deeply on her cigarette.

‘So, have you printed that picture of me for your locker yet?'

‘Yes m—Jayne. I got it here. You'all want to see it?'

Tommy unzipped his brown leather money belt and took out an envelope of photos. Jayne was relieved: this meant she didn't have to steal his camera.

‘Can I see?'

‘Jus' you wait a minute.' Tommy shuffled through the prints. ‘Here it is.'

Jayne usually didn't like pictures of herself but this wasn't a bad shot. Leaning against the pool table with a winning grin on her face, pool cue in one hand and cocktail in the other, she looked locker-worthy.

‘What else have you got in there?' she nodded at the rest of the photos.

‘Oh, nuthin,' Tommy said, ‘nuthin' interesting.'

Jayne sensed his discomfort and it piqued her curiosity.

‘Have you got a picture of your ship?' She leaned towards him.

‘Yes m'am—I mean, Jayne.'

He leafed through the pile again but held it too close to his chest for Jayne to see.

‘There you go: my home away from home.'

‘It's big, isn't it.' she said, then realising how pathetic that sounded, quickly added, ‘So what exactly is your mission in Thailand?'

‘Oh, this is jus' a social call for me, though Mitch here's been working with Full Accounting.'

‘What's that?'

‘The Joint Task Force. You know, bringing them home, all the MIAs and POWs. From Vietnam. Laos, too.'

Jayne nodded, although she struggled to see how they could really believe US soldiers were still being held prisoner in Southeast Asia more than twenty years after the war. Had everyone in America seen too many Chuck Norris movies?

‘So you here for much longer?' she said, still eyeing the packet of photos.

‘We ship out tomorrow.'

To her dismay, Tommy stuffed the envelope back into his money belt. He put his hand on her thigh and nodded at the shot of the frigate she was still holding.

‘Why don' you keep that one there as a souvenir.'

He licked his lips, just as he'd done the night before.

Jayne drank a large gulp of whisky and reached for another cigarette. Tommy took the opportunity to lean over and kiss her lightly on the mouth. His lips felt like velvet pillows.

Jayne returned the kiss, drawing it out while she felt for Tommy's money belt. He tasted of scotch and Coke. Warm, sweet and bad for you. The money belt was zipped shut.

Tommy's lips moved from her mouth to her ear. ‘Let's get outta here,' he whispered.

‘W-what about the bill?'

Things were moving too fast. She'd planned to pick up where the bar girl left off, get Tommy and Mitch so drunk they got careless with their belongings, steal the photos, make her getaway. Tommy had other plans.

‘This one's on Mitch,' he said, nodding to his companion who high-fived him with the hand that wasn't up his consort's grass skirt.

‘Your place or mine?' Tommy said, putting his arm around Jayne's waist.

‘Yours.'

Her stomach fluttered with whisky, nerves, lust. Tommy's arm felt like steel as he led her off the beach road and down a
soi
to the sort of guesthouse that rented more rooms by the hour than by the night.

He steered them into an elevator. As the doors closed, he took both Jayne's breasts in his hands, squeezed and kissed her. She broke into a renewed sweat and tried to plot an escape route. When the elevator doors opened on to the first floor, they spilled into the corridor. Tommy clamped Jayne to him with one arm, his free hand unzipping his money belt and fishing for his room key. He opened the door and carried Jayne inside.

She felt him unclip his money belt, heard it drop to the floor. Next he slithered out of his T-shirt and started unbuttoning her blouse. She could see his cock straining at the crotch of his jeans. He saw her notice and ground his pelvis against hers, while kissing the side of her neck. When his hands slid under her bra and pinched her nipples, she gasped and pulled away.

‘What's up, honey? Tommy jus' a little too fast for you'all. I'm sorry.'

He took her hand and pulled her back close to him, planting kisses in a line from her exposed shoulder to her ear.

Jayne failed to suppress a moan.

‘No i-i-t's not that,' she stammered. ‘It's j-just that I really need a shower. I'm all hot and sweaty and—'

‘Don' you be worryin' yourself about that.' Tommy inhaled deeply against her neck to prove his point.

She pulled away again. ‘Tommy, sweetie.' She took his face in her hands. ‘I know it's a hang-up, but it would make me feel so much more
relaxed
if I could have a shower.

Please?'

Tommy shrugged. ‘Okay, okay, honey, whatever. Why don' we take a shower together?'

‘Great.'

Jayne wracked her brain for a way to stall him. Tommy took off his jeans and started on her belt.

‘Ah, Tommy, I—I need to do something
private
first.'

‘What's that?'

He undid her belt buckle.

‘It's to do with…um…contraception.'

‘Don't you worry none about that. I got rubbers.' He reached into his jeans back pocket. ‘US Army issue.'

‘That's great,' she said, kissing the closely cropped hair on the crown of his head as he fumbled with the button on her jeans. ‘But I use a diaphragm as an added precaution.'

Tommy looked up from his work with raised eyebrows.

‘Why don' you'all just go on the pill?'

Because then guys think they don't have to bother with condoms
.

‘Makes me sick,' she said.

He squatted back on his haunches and shook his head.

Nothing like talk of contraception to dampen a man's ardour.

‘Why don't you get started,' Jayne said, ‘run the shower for us and get in. I'll only be a couple of minutes.'

To her relief, Tommy nodded and headed for the bathroom.

‘Don' be long now, honey,' he called over his shoulder.

Jayne snatched the money belt from the floor, whisked out the photos and stuffed them into the waistband of her jeans.

She didn't stop to do up her belt or blouse, but clutched her handbag to her chest for cover. As soon as she heard Tommy step under the running water, she headed for the door.

‘Just a minute,' she called.

She took the stairs, pausing when she got outside to fasten her buttons. A mistake.

‘Hey!'