Death Trip

‘Whereabouts in Burma?’

‘The mountains in the north.’

‘You’re from one of the hill tribes?’

‘Very good.’ For a second he saw a hint of a pro position in her eyes. This could get interesting, he thought.

‘The Karen?’

‘No. I am a member of the Lisu tribe.’ They went cold again.

‘Sorry. I only know the Karen.’

‘Everyone only knows the Karen but there are five others: Akha, Hmong, Lisu, Lahu and Yao, each with its own culture, religion, language. Not all of us want the same things as the Karen.’

‘What about the civil war? Doesn’t that affect you?’

‘My tribe is a farming tribe. The Burmese junta leave us alone; we leave them alone.’

‘Magda Cremer isn’t being left alone, is she? What’s she got that you want?’

‘Excuse me?’ She fixed him with a stare that could have cut diamonds.

‘Why are you having her followed?’

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‘You expecting a demand for ransom to come directly to them and you want to be able to handle it, maybe? Take your cut? Or perhaps you just don’t trust them, is that it? Look, I’m impartial here,’ he lied. ‘I am just one of the people trying to help free the kids. Do you think they are hiding something from you?’

‘That is ridiculous.’ She studied his card. ‘I don’t know what you want, Inspector…’ she placed it on the desk ‘…Mann. But we are already cooperating fully with the Dutch and Thai authorities. I am not sure how we can be of help,’ she said, looking him straight in the eye.

‘It doesn’t seem to be getting the kids freed though, does it? It’s been two weeks since they were last seen, since you sent them into a war zone.’ She blinked; otherwise her facial expression didn’t change.

‘It is unfortunate—an unforeseeable turn of events. We are doing everything we can. I can tell you that they were going to work for five months in an established long-standing refugee camp set up to help the Karen. It is on the River Mae, west of Bangkok. Their job was to help build a new school and to teach the children basic woodwork, literacy, that kind of thing.’

‘You send people all over Asia?’

‘Only to Thailand.’

‘Why only Thailand?’

‘We specialise. We are a small charity. We prefer to build up relations with the local people where we go. We like to keep it personal.’

Mann resisted his urge to smile. God help anyone who got the personal touch from her, he thought.

‘What happened this time?’

‘They were kidnapped after a wave of unrest. Karen freedom fighters. Their ringleader has been identified as a man named Alak. He is responsible for the attack.’ She didn’t hesitate with the answer. She didn’t fluster, she was reciting rather than reasoning, thought Mann. She had learnt her lines well. She watched and waited for a response from him, which he didn’t give. She was definitely an ice maiden. ‘I don’t know whether you are aware of the problems the Burmese and Thai authorities have with these rebels?’ she said with a flicker of scepticism in her eyes and a curl of cynicism on her burgundy mouth. Mann looked suitably perplexed. ‘They have used the unrest to attack the Burmese government.’

‘Why is that, do you think?’

‘I can’t answer that. The Thai government has been very supportive to the displaced Karen villagers for many years; they have housed them in refugee camps. The Thai government is not wealthy—it is a great burden for them—but they are magnanimous and kind to these people. But the people in the refugee camps still support the rebel freedom fighters.’

‘So you think they want the money to use for arms to carry on the civil war and fight the Burmese junta?’

‘I think it’s likely.’

‘What is the latest?’

‘They have disappeared into the hills. The Burmese army are doing all they can to track them.’

‘Captain Boon Nam?’

‘Yes.’

‘What does Captain Boon Nam think is going on?’

‘He thinks that, as no ransom was raised by the government or the parents, they are headed north.’

‘To where?’

‘He thinks they will be handed over to a second group of rebels who have a foothold in the mountains of northern Burma.’

‘On the border with Laos and Thailand?’

She nodded.

Mann looked at her coldly.

‘You know as well as I do, if they go into the Golden Triangle, they won’t come out alive.’

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‘The Golden Triangle is merely a name for an area that spans four countries: Burma, Laos, Vietnam and Thailand.’ Katrien’s facial expression didn’t change.

‘Tell that to the heroin addicts of the world. Next to Afghanistan, it’s the world’s largest supplier of illicit opium.’

‘The Burmese government have done what they can to eradicate it.’

‘Bullshit. It’s their biggest export. The money from it is laundered into hotels, utilities, banks. The whole of the Burmese army is funded by it.’

She rose from her chair. She was clearly agitated. ‘I cannot answer any more of your questions. I simply don’t have the answers. We are cooperating all we can. We hope it will be resolved soon.’ Mann guessed that meant his time was up. He stayed where he was.

‘Okay.’ He eyeballed her. ‘Let’s understand one another. I want an exact—an exact—printout of their itinerary before I leave these offices. I want to know where they were going at every stage of their journey and who they were going to meet. I want numbers, addresses—everything you have. And I mean everything.’

She stared back at him, her eyes getting colder by the second.

‘Is that understood?’