“You pig, you fucking pig!”
Ava walked into the kitchen to find one of the Captain’s men throwing paper towels at Seto’s feet, where an impressive pool of urine had gathered.
“Couldn’t you just take him to the bathroom?” she said.
“He didn’t ask.”
Patrick wandered in from the den, wiping sleep from his eyes. “We can’t leave him like this. He’ll stink up the place.”
“I’ll get the woman,” Ava said. “Give me the keys for her handcuffs.”
When she entered the bedroom, Anna was asleep. There was dried blood on the side of her head from the blow Patrick had administered. Beneath it Ava could see the beginning of a hell of a bruise. She touched Anna’s arm, not wanting to alarm her. The woman woke with a start anyway, fear leaping into her eyes.
“Anna, I’m not going to hurt you. I need your help downstairs with Jackson. Just wait here a minute.”
Ava went into the bathroom and wet a facecloth. The woman was struggling to sit upright but was having some difficulty because of the tape that bound her legs together. Ava peeled it off Anna’s ankles and told her to turn around. “Now please, don’t do anything stupid,” she said as she unlocked the cuffs. She handed her the cloth. “Here, wash your face. There’s some dried blood on your right cheek and ear.”
Anna winced as she dabbed her face.
“Do you need to pee?” Ava asked.
“Badly.”
“Go and use the bathroom. Just leave the door open.”
Anna staggered slightly when she stood up. Ava could see that she was completely deflated and wasn’t going to cause trouble. “Wash your face a bit more as well, if you want,” she said to her.
It took about five minutes for Anna to sort herself out in the bathroom, and by then Ava had made a mental list of everything she wanted her to do. “Let’s go downstairs,” she said. “Your boyfriend peed himself. I want you to bring him up here and wash and change him. One of the boys downstairs can supervise.”
Patrick and the cops were sitting at the kitchen table with disgusted looks on their faces. “Take the tape off his ankles,” Ava told the woman. She could have taken the handcuffs off too, but she didn’t want to lessen his feeling of helplessness. She didn’t want him to think for even a second that there was any chance of a reprieve.
“Patrick, the woman is going to take him upstairs to wash and change. Go with them, will you?”
He looked as if he wanted to argue with her. She turned her back on him and spoke to Anna again. “Do you have a passport?”
“Yes.”
“Where is it?”
“Upstairs in my dresser.”
“Where is Ng’s passport?”
“He keeps it in his room. I don’t know where.”
“Now listen to me. When you finish with your boyfriend, I want you to pack a small suitcase for him. His toilet kit, change of underwear, shirt, and whatever he sleeps in.”
“You don’t have to go into the bathroom,” she said to Patrick as they started up the stairs.
“Thank you, boss,” he said.
She found Anna’s passport in the top drawer of the dresser. It took her a bit longer to find Ng’s, which was hidden under his mattress. She tore all the pages from both of them, ripped them to shreds, and threw the scraps into a garbage can in Seto’s office. Those two wouldn’t be leaving Guyana for a while.
She checked her emails. Derek had sent his itinerary. She then signed on as Seto on the off chance that Bates had responded. Nothing. Seto did have about thirty unread emails. She saw the one she had sent from the Phoenix. There were also two from George Antonelli. She opened them; they contained details about a tilapia deal they had been offered.
Seto was standing in the middle of the bedroom. Patrick had removed one of the cuffs and Seto was holding his hands up so Anna could slip a clean shirt on him. He was incredibly skinny, bones protruding through skin. When he was dressed again, Patrick re-cuffed him.
“Do I have to tie you up again?” she asked Anna.
“No… please don’t.”
“We’ll leave him here with you. You can take the tape off his eyes when we’re gone. There will be someone outside the door and someone else downstairs, so don’t get creative. I don’t want to see you hurt anymore, and there is nothing, absolutely nothing, you can do to help him. Is that understood?”
“Yes.”
“They should be okay till morning,” she said to Patrick. “Can you drive me back to the hotel?”
While Patrick told his men what was going on, she gathered up her notebook and kitbag. A quick check showed that Seto’s passports, driver’s licence, and Hong Kong ID card were still in the bag.
“I assume from the conversation in the house that you’ll be leaving us tomorrow?” he said as they began the drive back to the Phoenix.
“That’s the plan.”
“And you’re taking him with you?”
“I am.”
“Do you need any help when you’re there?”
“The Captain asked me already, and the answer is no.”
“Too bad. Not much travelling in my job.”
“Travelling is overrated. After a while the planes, hotels, and restaurants all become interchangeable.”
“This must have been different,” he said.
She smiled. “Different is a good way to describe it.”
Patrick’s phone rang. He looked at the incoming number. “It’s a call from the house,” he said.
“I hope nothing’s happened,” she said, slamming herself for having let the woman stay with Seto.
She could hear the cop’s voice but not what he was saying. Thoughts of disaster began to creep into her head.
“No, leave them alone. What’s done is done,” Patrick said finally, and ended the call.
“Is everything all right?” she asked.
“My guy heard noises from the bedroom, so he opened the door. The woman was giving Seto a blowjob. I guess the handcuffs were a turn-on.”