[Adam Park 01.0] The Dead and the Missing by AD Davies

Author:AD Davies [Davies, AD]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Mystery, Thriller
Amazon: B00XNZ0IZQ
Goodreads: 25675510
Publisher: Crater of the North Publishing
Published: 2015-04-22T06:00:00+00:00

A twenty-minute walk away on Nguyen Hue Boulevard, The Rex Hotel was the focal point for American and western journalists during the war, and the scene for regular press briefings by the US military. As the war progressed and the briefings bore less and less resemblance to facts relayed from embedded journalists in the field, the sessions became known as “Five O’clock Follies.” The rooftop bar would serve GIs and war correspondents during downtime, where they could enjoy a beer or cocktail whilst observing the flash of artillery ghosting over the horizon. Today it is a five-star establishment with around three-hundred rooms, two ballrooms and swimming pools, a gym, spa and six restaurants. The hostesses who greeted me in the lobby were pristinely garbed in red and gold, with perfect hair and jewelry. Figuring I needed some sort of base from which to operate, I saw nothing wrong with a little luxury, so checked in to a standard room and dumped my bag, before heading straight back out.

The rooftop bar presented a bird’s-eye view of the surrounding streets. The traffic’s raging torrent had calmed to a steady stream, but the horns still tooted merrily twelve stories up. The Saigon đêm aside, everything seemed so relaxed, despite the cacophony of noise. Even the hawkers acted friendly more than pushy. The beer itself was another testament to communist imagination in that it was titled Saigon Beer, but it was as nice as any Budweiser or Heineken and so refreshing after an hour or so traipsing about with my rucksack I thought I might start dribbling.

I showed the photos around the bar staff, but didn’t get a single hit, although I was informed that over thirty staff worked here, so they couldn’t say for sure. A shift change was due in an hour. There were worse places to spend an hour than watching over Saigon at night.

Jess called and I could tell by the background noise she was in a coffee shop or pub. She said, “Curtis Benson’s shipments go to a Bahamian island called Lana. They are plastic-packed and the official documentation lists them as medical supplies. Nothing that requires additional paperwork or permits, but the island’s only hospital is a wreck. Population of fifty-thousand, and a mortality rate more in keeping with the middle-ages.”

“How is Curtis Benson interested in this?”

“I don’t know,” she said. “Before he was … taken, Harry said he suspects Curtis Benson has people on Lana. Possibly shipping heroin or coke out there to boost his titty-bar income.”

“Sounds sensible, but it’s still guesswork.”

“Want me to stop guessing?”

“No, your guesses are usually more accurate than most facts.” I waved my empty at the waiter in his spotless waistcoat. He nodded. I came to a decision about something that had been preying on me a while. “Don’t take any more chances on PAI property. I wondered what Roger meant by saying you’d have serious problems, and I realized he can file a criminal complaint against you for aiding a fugitive. And he’d do it too, just to hurt me.

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