Death Trip

Ma

Just as the act on stage was reaching its truly acrobatic climax, Ma

‘Thank you for coming.’ Her English was good with only a slight Dutch accent. ‘I am Magda.’

She sat down in the seat next to him. In the gloom of the auditorium the one thing he was sure of was that her eyes were the colour of bleached denim, beautiful but hard.

From the stage came different music. The curtains rolled back. The black guy had been replaced by an equally muscly white guy who was shagging so fast and furiously to the loud techno beat, it was as if the continuation of the human race depended on him, and he only had ten seconds to save the earth.

‘Is it okay to meet here?’ Magda asked as she looked down at the antics below. ‘Have you been to Amsterdam before?’

‘First time here. But…’ He shrugged and then smiled. ‘…I didn’t come to see a sex show. I can see plenty of those at home. Your email said you needed to see me?’

The email had come to him via ‘customer relations’ in Police Headquarters. It had said just as much as it needed to to get him on a plane: no more, no less. It said that Magda had been his father’s mistress and that she needed to speak to him in person.

‘It must have been a shock, finding out about me.’

‘It was,’ Ma

‘Can I ask you…have you ever been to Thailand?’

Ma

‘Did you hear about the five Dutch kids who were kidnapped recently from a refugee camp there?’

Ma

‘Yes, it is.’ Her eyes fixed on his, the strain showed on her face as she fought back tears. ‘One of them was my son. Your brother.’

3

Despite himself, Ma

Ma

‘Jake is eighteen. He and the other four kids were helping to build a school when the camp was attacked and they were taken across the border to the Burmese jungle. We have not been able to raise a ransom and we have heard nothing for over a week now. Please help us.’

Ma

‘Believe me, I am deeply sorry for your situation but I am not sure I can help,’ Ma

Magda looked away and stared down towards the stage. But Magda didn’t see the dancer. Downstairs the audience was rowdy—the stag party was queuing up to take part in the audience participation slot. Magda’s eyes were watery when she turned back to him.

‘Someone has to do something,’ she said, desperation in her voice as she fought to stop herself from crying. ‘We are going out there, my partner Alfie and I, he is a policeman like you. We will do everything we can, but…but…’ She looked at him as she shook her head in despair and a tear broke free. ‘We have no idea what we are doing.’ She wiped her eyes, angrily.

He waited for her to compose herself. ‘What do you think I can do?’

She turned sharply back to him, steeliness in her eyes. ‘You do not know me, but I know you. Alfie and I have followed your career. We have seen that you are a man who takes risks.’ She hesitated. ‘I know that you are not afraid to cross the line. I know that you were involved in a case where western women died in snuff movies.’ Magda searched his face. ‘I know that one of those women was someone you loved. I am sorry, Joh

It had been nineteen years since he had witnessed his father’s execution and two years since his girlfriend Helen’s lifeless body had been found. She had been tortured to death. The more Ma

‘That might be so…‘ Ma

‘The whole region is politically unstable, who knows what deals they are making? You have contacts all over Asia. You can find out what has happened to Jake—I know you can. You can get my son back. There is no one else who cares. He is just a boy and he is your brother.’ Magda looked close to breaking. She shook her head miserably. ‘I’m sorry. I would not have troubled you if I did not have to. Believe me.’ She looked up at him, her eyes imploring. He did believe her. She was a mother who would do anything for her child and Ma

He smiled and nodded his acceptance.

‘Thank you.’ The tears in her eyes spilled over and she wiped them quickly. ‘He looks like you,’ she said as she pulled out a tissue and blew her nose. The Americans turned at the noise, but just as quickly turned their attention back to the stage where a group of lads was lining up to eat a banana from the dancer’s vagina. Ma

‘Let’s go somewhere else to talk.’

They were greeted outside by a blast of icy wind. Flanked by the tall houses that leant over as if magnetically drawn towards the water, the canals acted as wind tu