CHAPTER 43
At 5pm Mark Dobson left the hotel to find a taxi to take him to Pattaya.
At the same time, Pascale was still tracking Lester’s rented Toyota Vios as Jeffrey drove. With Jeffrey driving faster than Lester, they calculated they were now within a mile of him but still on the main Highway.
“He’s come off the Highway,” Pascale said at last. “A road called Jalan Pandan.”
“That fits,” Jeffrey said from behind the wheel. “There’s an industrial area nearby that we’ve watched before.”
“He’s turned off, going back under the road, heading north. Jalan Padi Ria Utama. He’s slowing.”
With Pascale giving directions, Jeffrey almost caught up with the Toyota. On the left, near a muddy-looking football pitch, he stopped. The Toyota had turned into the industrial estate.
“Mark and I have been here before,” Jeffrey said. “But there’s nothing much we can do except sit, watch and wait.” He texted a quick update that arrived on Mark Dobson’s phone just as he settled into the taxi for Pattaya.
Mark stared at it for a while, pondering. They still weren’t sure what went on in that factory unit and had no way of finding out yet. The other question was whether Enzo Grassi was also there and why. Only Pascale knew what Enzo looked like. He replied to Jeffrey: “Wait and watch”. Then he called Colin Asher.
It was Ching who answered. “Colin is listening into a phone call, Mark,” she said in her Hong Kong accent. “Mr Lester. I’ll ask him to call you back.”
Five minutes later with his taxi racing along the Bangkok to Chonburi Expressway towards Pattaya, Colin Asher returned the call. “Lester has just finished a call to Enzo. Here’s the recording:
Lester: “Enzo? Where are you? I thought we were meeting. at 5pm.”
Enzo: “Si dispiace, sorry. Molto dispiaciuto. I try many time to call you but your phone not work and I have problem in Singapore. My flight was late and then taxi from Chiangi airport have problem. I am now in JB but it is too late I think.”
Lester: “OK, OK. I had a problem with my phone. You want to meet in JB?”
Enzo: “Si. It is better I think.”
Lester: “The hotel?”
Enzo: “Si, the usual one, the Mutiara, no?”
Lester: “OK. You speak to Valeri?”
Enzo: “Si, si. Valeri is not happy. We talk later, OK? Ciao.”
Mark phoned Jeffrey, briefly described the conversation between Lester and Enzo and ended the call with: “Does the name Valeri mean anything?”
“Mm,” Jeffrey replied. “Could that be Valeri Pavlyuchenko who Sannan photographed in Pattaya a year ago?”
“That was exactly my thinking.”
“But you know what?” Jeffrey went on. “I’m getting confused about how this all fits together.”
“You know what Salvador Dali once said?” Mark replied. “What is important is to spread confusion not eliminate it.”
Mark spent the rest of the taxi ride writing down names, connecting them with lines and arrows. Was it starting to make sense? Well, yes. Some of the lines and arrows were becoming thicker.
Jeffrey, meanwhile, ignored the earlier instruction to wait and watch and sped off to the Mutiara Hotel. “Their marketing manager owes me a favour,” he told Pascale.