Читать книгу Angel in the Full Moon - Don Easton - Страница 11

“You there, Jack?” whispered Laura, from where she sat in the darkened room of the property manager’s corner office. The blinds were open just enough to give her a glimpse of the entranceway outside, as well as a view of the main doors to the party room across the foyer.

Jack was parked out on the street and sat slouched in the passenger seat of the car. From the perspective of anyone walking by, it would appear that he was waiting for the driver to return.

He clicked the transmit button on the police radio and said, “Copy. Go ahead.”

“Moustache Pete and the Fat Man are just opening up the doors to the room. They’re each carrying a case of vodka. Looks like they expect a few people tonight.”

“Ten-four. Over an hour to go before the party is supposed to start,” observed Jack.

Minutes later, Jack watched as a taxi van pulled into the crescent-shaped driveway in front of the apartment building and parked under the awning in front of the main doors. He reached for the binoculars.

“Got it, Jack,” came Laura’s voice. “Can see the plate from here. Oh, it’s a taxi.”

Jack watched as seven young women exited the taxi. They were all smartly dressed and wore high heels. Two of them wore coats that were trimmed with fur. The other coats appeared to be made of wool.

Despite the cool February night, their coats were open and Jack could see that they all wore skirts. They also had something else in common. They were extremely beautiful. Three of them were blondes, the others were brunettes.

Laura remained still and heard the women chatting as they buzzed the intercom.

“There’s no answer,” one woman said.

“Try again. These guys have used our agency before.”

“You’ve worked here before?”

“Oh, yeah. I call them Nikolai and Doctor Zhivago. They like that. Both pigs, but if you make them happy, they’re not afraid to open their wallets wide for a tip. Here, let me try the party room.”

Seconds later the women were buzzed in and Laura saw the two Russians come to the entrance to the party room and wave them over.

“Escort service,” Laura relayed to Jack. “Maybe the party is starting sooner than we thought,” replied Jack.

Laura watched as the two Russians carefully examined the women, before taking one on each arm and heading for the elevator. The other three escorts remained in the party room.

“Our boys aren’t greedy,” radioed Laura.

“How so?” asked Jack.

“They only picked two each and headed up to their room. Must be saving the other three for later.”

An hour later, the entourage from upstairs returned. One woman made a motion to re-button the top of her blouse but the Fat Man playfully slapped her hand away. He laughed and shook his finger and said, “No, no, no. I like to look.”

Laura noticed that both Russians had changed their clothes and were now wearing expensive-looking shoes, slacks, and silk shirts open at the neck.

The next hour went by relatively quietly and a mixture of men and women started to arrive. As this happened, Jack would walk down the sidewalk while using the voice-activated tape recorder in his inside jacket pocket to record license plates. When people entered the apartment, Laura confirmed who was of interest and who wasn’t. In the end, Jack had recorded over two-dozen license plates and he estimated that, with the taxis included, approximately forty to forty-five people were at the party.

Several hours passed and Laura whispered into her radio, “Jack, just to let you know that the apartment above me is being used ... about half an hour at a time.”

“The seven escorts?”

“So far, five of them. Five different guys, too.”

“Special guests getting their treats upstairs,” radioed Jack. “Let me know when they leave. I’ll try to identify them.”

“Getting their treats? Is that what you call it? You must have been very disappointed as a kid on Halloween—stand by! Three of the guys who were treated upstairs are now giving Moustache Pete a hug at the door ... he’s kissing each one on the cheek. The three of them are heading for the entrance now. You can’t miss them. They’re all Asians and looking a little whiskied. Incidentally, all of them preferred blondes.”

Jack had no trouble following the three men and was pleased to see that they each drove away in separate cars. He recorded three licence plates, ones he had seen earlier, as now being of particular significance.

The other two men who had been entertained upstairs eventually left separately. The first one drove away in a Jaguar while the second drove off in a Porsche. Jack didn’t need to double check these plates. He had remembered them from when they first arrived.

It was three o’clock in the morning when Jack dropped Laura off at her car to drive home.

“Something was really out of place at the party tonight,” said Laura.

“That being?” asked Jack.

“All the guests. With the exception of the seven hookers who arrived first, everyone else was either dressed—or acted—like lower-class hoods and gangsters.”

“Hoods and gangsters ... there’s an old expression. You been watching The Untouchables again?”

“You know what I mean. Walking around with real attitude. Wearing too much gold jewellery. Doused in enough aftershave to make you gag.”

“You smelled aftershave? Did you go inside?”

“Didn’t have to. I could smell it coming through under the door.”

“Good. Don’t know how long we’ll be working on these guys. I don’t want them seeing our faces until absolutely necessary.”

Laura nodded in agreement and continued, “I guess all I’m saying is I wonder why the Russians would hang out with these guys?”

“Maybe it’s strictly business? Nothing to do with friendship.”

“Maybe.”

“High-class hookers. I would say it was a corporate party. Likely celebrating something. Wish we knew what.”

“Two of the hookers were never used, although our Russian friends always had one latched to their arm all night.”

“Big egos require a big show. We’ll find out about the guests tomorrow when we run the plates,” said Jack.

It was four in the morning when Jack slipped into bed beside Natasha and gently kissed her on her bare shoulder before pulling the blanket higher. She rolled over to face him and lay with her head on his chest.

Jack felt her hand slowly drift up the inside of his thigh and tilted his pelvis slightly while unconsciously opening his mouth in the expectation of pleasure. She stopped and moments later her breathing indicated that she had gone back to sleep. Jack let out a sigh and tried to relax. It took him over an hour to get to sleep.

It was nine o’clock at night in Hanoi when Bin felt Linh’s skinny arms squeezing his lungs. She was clinging to his waist while he pedalled his bicycle. It made taking deep breaths difficult, but he didn’t mind. They were plenty early to meet the van.

Eventually, Bin pulled up to the appointed location and carried his bicycle up onto the sidewalk while Linh carried the plastic bag containing her clothes.

“Forty minutes early,” said Bin.

“I do not think the American lady will be happy to see me,” sniffled Linh.

“And why not?” asked Bin, although he knew what the response would be before he asked.

“I have no gift to give her.”

“We do not have the money for two gifts. The pearl necklace cost much money. It is worthy of being a gift from the both of you.”

“Maybe Hng forgot to say so.”

“Do you really think she would do such a thing? Leave her little sister out?”

Linh put her head down and said, “No. I do not think that.”

“There is something you have to give that is much more precious than a stone from some oyster,” said Bin.

“What is that?” asked Linh with surprise.

“Your smile, little one,” answered Bin sincerely. “I would not trade your smile for all the pearls in Ha Long Bay.”

Linh tried to frown as she looked up at her father, but there was a twinkle in her eye and she soon smiled and giggled.

At nine years old, some might have found her mixture of baby teeth and adult teeth somewhat less than attractive, but to Bin it was a beautiful smile.