Dead End Deal by Allen Wyler

Author:Allen Wyler
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Dead End Deal
ISBN: 9781938231032
Publisher: Astor + Blue Editions LLC
Published: 2012-05-07T16:00:00+00:00

31

THE CAR’S AC either didn’t work or was purposely switched off with the windows closed, turning the interior hot and muggy, making the black vinyl upholstery stick to Jon’s skin with every move. The back seat reeked of garlic, body sweat, and old vomit. Jon hunched forward, elbows on knees, to keep his back off the seat. He asked Park several times to tell him the grounds for being held on suspicion of murder, but Park remained impassive in the passenger seat, saying only an occasional Korean word or two to the driver. An attitude, Jon suspected, that was deliberately orchestrated to piss him off. Well, it was working.

He figured any show of the intense anger boiling inside would only feed into whatever mind game Park was playing. What bothered him most was the gnawing suspicion that Feist somehow set him up, and that he’d fallen for the trap. If Park only intended to ask him a few questions, why take the passport? Why treat him like a common criminal? Thankfully, he hadn’t been restrained with flex ties or metal handcuffs. He wasn’t sure he could tolerate that without going batshit.

He flashed on the TV series Locked Up Abroad. He had seen trailers for it but never the actual show, yet even the trailers were sufficient to leave little doubt that huge problems could arise from being arrested in a foreign country. Although he’d been deceptive about the intent of the surgeries, he hadn’t murdered the patients. Sure, it would be a bit awkward explaining the deception part, and the other . . . well, Park could talk cop-to-cop with Fisher to resolve whatever mis-understanding there might be. He almost talked himself into relaxing. Almost. Still . . .

A maze of congested streets, drab concrete apartment buildings, and a patchwork of small shops sped past. He didn’t know a thing about how the Korean legal system worked. He’d heard news stories and seen movie depictions of egregious civil rights violations in various Asian countries. Did those include Korea? At the time, he hadn’t paid that much attention, for some reason assumed they related mostly to China. Now he wasn’t sure.

With each passing second, his fear grew stronger. Maybe he really was in serious trouble. After all, like Fisher said, two dead post-op patients certainly raised suspicions. But of what? Hadn’t Park mentioned waiting for the autopsy, so nothing was for sure yet? Yeah, but he used the word ‘murder.’ He’d call Fisher. Fisher would vouch for him.

The unmarked police car dipped down a ramp into the Seoul Metropolitan Police Agency, then nosed into a slot in a garage half-filled with other police vehicles. Jon followed Park to an elevator, the uniformed cop/driver bringing up the rear. They entered the cage and rode up six floors, where Park led him along a worn linoleum hall to an eight-by-eight-foot room of beige walls, recessed fluorescent lighting, three mis-matched chairs, a scarred Formica table bolted to the wall, and one tar-coated ashtray. The humid, warm air reeked of stale nicotine, staler sweat, and raw fear.

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