“Don’t hold back. It’s okay to let me know how you really feel.”
A waiter approached and asked what she wanted to drink. She ordered a bottle of mineral water and returned her gaze to Rob. He was a good-looking young man, fit, with a deceptively ordinary face — she wouldn’t have given him a second glance in a crowd. Brown hair, brown eyes, no scars or distinguishing features. Put a pair of glasses on him or a mustache and he would be a completely different person.
“It’s no secret that I’m against this whole idea. But I don’t have much say in it, apparently, so here we are,” she observed.
“That being the case, what’s for dinner?”
They considered the menu, and when the waiter returned with her drink, they ordered.
“We can’t just sit here and not talk,” Rob said, taking a sip of his beverage.
“Sure we can. Everyone will think we’re married.”
“Hmm. So, what’s the first move?”
“You tell me why I should ever see you again once I leave this restaurant.”
“Well, let’s see: I speak Thai, know Bangkok well but am not known in the circles you’ll want to travel, can hold my own in any situation…and because you have instructions to work with me.”
“Rob. Let me make this as clear as I can. I have no instructions. I have a man with a melted face asking me to consider using you as an asset for a short time while I’m in Bangkok. So, sweetie? It’s not the way you think it is.”
The entrees arrived after a tense back and forth. They ate in silence, Rob sulking and looking almost as unhappy as Jet did. When the bill came, he paid, then Jet stood up abruptly.
“Thanks. Come on. Let’s take a walk, and I’ll fill you in on where I’m at.”
“Yes, master.”
“I think that would be ‘mistress’.”
They exited the restaurant and strolled side by side, and she brought him up to speed on her thoughts. Once she’d finished, he nodded.
“I agree with the thinking that I can help on this. If we pose as a couple looking to swing, we’ll have an easier time in the clubs. In the meanwhile, we can put feelers out to all the informants and spread some money around through Edgar. When we get a lead, we can start hanging out at whichever one of his places Lap Pu is at, and then play it by ear. Unless you have a better idea,” he said.
“I’m not sure how else we’re going to find him. It’s not like we can just blunder in and start asking where we can find a slavery kingpin who knows a white devil somewhere in the northern jungle.”
“Then it’s decided. I’ll be your boyfriend, and hopefully, Edgar will have something for us soon. Once he does, we can play it by ear and see what else surfaces.”
She still didn’t like it, but as she’d listened to herself telling Rob about her strategy, it had sounded increasingly tenuous. Perhaps he could prove helpful after all.
“How do I reach you when I have more info?” he asked.
She fished the cell phone from her pocket and gave him the number.
“Now take me to Nana and show me around. I want to get a feel of the place.”
The streets were teeming with drunken tourists as they neared the infamous Nana Plaza — three stories of establishments catering to the sex trade. They passed several girls, who looked barely thirteen, in short skirts and six-inch heels, teetering around as they chattered at passing prospects. “Hey, sexy man. Hey, big man. What you looking for? Come on, sexy man.”
A ten-year-old boy, an emaciated street urchin, smiled shyly at them as they passed. She watched out of the corner of her eye as an older Caucasian man slowed and stopped to chat with him, then they walked off together in the opposite direction.
“Hey, big man. Want a ladyboy tonight? Who knows how to love you up right?” a young street hustler murmured to them as he leaned in to Rob. “Check it out. Crying game. Kathoey. Ladyboy?” He gestured at four stunning young women who, apparently, were transgender. One of the beauties blew him a kiss as the others tittered.
“Looks like you’ve found some fans.”
“There’s something for everyone here. But I don’t swing that way.”
“Are they all men?”
“Depends. Some have had the ultimate operation, some haven’t. But they all started off as men.”
“What’s the attraction?”
“You got me. I guess sexuality can be complicated. I’d have thought if you wanted a guy, you’d just go with a guy, but obviously not. They’re actually viewed as a third sex by many of the locals.”
“Is there anything off limits here?”
“Not really. Welcome to Thailand.”
They approached Nana, and the crowd got thicker; sidewalk peddlers touted knockoff purses and pirated DVDs as brown uniformed police filtered through the throng as a deterrent to violence or theft. Australian accents echoed off the bar fronts as groups of rowdy partygoers bellowed drunkenly at each other, to the mingled invitations to come in and have a drink from the hundreds of bar girls dressed as provocatively as possible in the interests of luring customers.
“The joints look pretty shabby,” Jet observed. Perhaps at one time decades ago it had been a hotspot, but Nana had an air of decay about it — of an aging debutante long since past her prime, but still clinging to her partying ways.
“They are. Same with Soi Cowboy — one of the other big sex districts. Both Nana and Cowboy have seen better days, and now with the economic downturn, many of the bars are losing money.”
“Wow. So even the whoremongers are feeling the pinch?”
“I’m sensing a distinct lack of sympathy.”
Bar after bar with young Asian women beckoning to anyone walking by to sample their wares blinked with neon desperation in the perspiring night. Jet and Rob moved past the currency exchange and took the escalator to the first floor, where the motifs catered to every possible depravity — bondage and S amp;M, ladyboys, schoolgirl playpals, and straight go-go bars.
“The real kink is on the top floor,” Rob explained, “and at the private clubs in the area. Ping pong shows. That’s what our man Lap Pu specializes in, along with prostitution.”
They cruised the plaza and the surrounding streets, where everything imaginable was for sale.
“I had an acquaintance tell me that if I wanted a knock-off Chinese-manufactured Benz that looked like the real thing right down to the last detail, he could get me one. There are literally no limits here.”
She looked around at the hookers of all shapes and sizes. “How much worse could it get than this?”
“Much. You’ll see once we start hitting his clubs. They have shows in the front and whorehouses in the back. But it doesn’t stop there. Even though the official stance is that child prostitution is vigorously prosecuted, it’s well known that it goes on every day, and Lap Pu is one of the big names in the business.”
After another half hour wandering the streets, fending off propositions every few feet, she was done. “I think I’ve seen about enough for one night.” A man had just leaned towards them and made a distinctive popping sound with his mouth and inquired in English if they were interested in ping pong. Jet thought she would never be able to hear the words again without imagining his leering face, discolored teeth and wisps of black mustache framing his popping mouth.
“All right. You’re lucky it’s a Tuesday. If this was a weekend, it would be three times more crowded.”
“What about disease? AIDS has to be rampant.”
“It’s on the increase. For about a decade, condoms were mandatory for sex workers, but that’s become more relaxed as the economy has tightened. Some of the girls will do anything for a few more baht, and they wind up paying the ultimate price. Same for the boys. It’s an ugly situation all around.”
“How much does a sex worker make?”
“I think the going rate is anywhere from two thousand baht to five thousand baht. Depends on where you get them. In dollars, that’s anywhere from fifty dollars to couple of hundred, again, depending on where you pick them up and how long you stay with them. A lot of the tourists come here and want a girlfriend experience, a situation where she’ll stay with them for however long they want, twenty-four hours a day, and lay by the pool, go to dinner, the whole works. That costs more.”