Cambodia Noir by Nick Seeley

Author:Nick Seeley [Seeley, Nick]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Noir, Mystery, Thriller
Publisher: Scribner
Published: 2016-03-15T03:00:00+00:00

WILL

OCTOBER 9

On a bike, city sliding by. I look back: Am I being followed? In dark streets, there’s no way to tell. One arm around the driver, I fumble the phone out of my pocket, break it open, and toss the pieces into the night. Pop another of Gus’s Dexedrine. Try to keep breathing.

I came out of the hotel with the crowd; grabbed the first moto I could find. The drivers saw what was happening: five times the fee to get me to Martini’s. Not too many places crowded at this hour of the morning, but the taxi-girl clubs are still going. I hand him his money before we’ve even stopped.

Martini’s isn’t packed, but there are still bodies at the tables: middle-aged men, the ones who can’t quite commit, nursing drinks as they try to find something to talk about with girls in cutoff shorts and bra tops, pretending they’re here for more than a commercial exchange.

I make a beeline for the bar, wary of my incongruous backpack and roadkill eyes. I stand out. Get a drink and down it, always watching the door. No one suspicious comes in, so I head for the bathroom and change my shirt and pants for the spares in my bag. Slip out the back, down an alley, listening for footsteps, or bike engines gunning.

Nothing.

I walk a long way to another big street, flag a moto, and stumble over what to tell him. I can’t go home. Can’t go to the river, or the Heart: places someone looking for me would go. But I need people around: another nightclub. Can’t think of a name, not sure where I am, what time it is—late or early, who can tell?

“Dancing. Take me to dancing. With girls.”

The driver nods.

What went wrong? Were we set up? But if someone was onto us, why didn’t they know I was there? It doesn’t make sense. I’ve been trying to flush a tail, but there’s no point: if the guys who got Charlie and the Aussie knew about me, they’d have killed me in the hotel.

My hands won’t stop shaking.

We pull up to a club I don’t recognize: run-down, set back from the road behind a fence. A dirtier, less prosperous version of the semi-brothel I just left. I offer the driver another 250 riel to make a call on his mobile. Senn’s phone is off, so I send a message:

GET OUT.

I take another Dexedrine and head for the bar. Buy a drink from the girls, then another. They ignore me: they can see there’s no business there.

Whatever happened, this town isn’t safe. I still have the other half of the Aussie’s money—enough for a plane ticket. I could go, grab the next flight to anywhere—

“Airports kill me.”

I look up, half expecting to see June leaning over me, trying to open me up with those cold, inquisitive eyes—

“Do you like what you’ve found of me so far?”

Get out of my head, June. This is it: I’m in too deep, and so are you, but you’re on your own now.

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