Chapter Twenty Three
The smile revealed expensive white teeth. There was no blackened lead, just bright enamelled contours bleached beyond normal radiation levels. The man had money and a good dentist. The creases at the side of the mouth turned upwards in honest appeal. With a very slight nod, the man stepped back, allowing ample space for his host to feel non-threatened. He slowly adjusted his Vietnamese silk tie and prepared to introduce himself.
“Good afternoon,” he said. “My name is Deng Korat. I am from the Thai Embassy in London. I apologise for not having rung earlier, but I think I was trying the wrong number. Might I trouble you for a few minutes?”
Pemberton took the time to study the young man’s features. The dark woollen suit added business elegance, a discreet acceptability. The pale blue tie was conservatively matched and looked expensive, as did the pearl-set gold cufflinks. Pemberton would have preferred prior warnings from the Embassy chaps, but was happy to accept the man’s apologies and welcome him in. The right buttons had been pushed, all of them green.
The visitor took his time entering at Pemberton’s invitation. He carefully noted the lock mechanism on the panelled door and a brass fire poker hanging in ornamental guise against red paisley wallpaper. The length would provide a good weapon if either of the Pembertons might be disturbed at an unexpected hour. If this visit brought pleasing results there should be no need for nocturnal entries.
“Follow me, I’ll arrange for a cup of tea,” Pemberton replied, happy to formalise the occasion with the family china.
Pemberton led the official through to an airy lounge, dressed with a hand-woven Moroccan rug and reproduction antique pine furniture. Mrs Pemberton appeared briefly to take his order before scuttling away in the direction of the kitchen.
“Sorry about any sudden intrusion on your lives,” Deng said, empathy etched across his forehead. “I learnt through a colleague in Bangkok that your daughter, Louise, had gone missing in my country. I am new to my international posting in England and when I heard of your unfortunate news I felt compelled to do all in my power to help you find her. I’m just sorry that I was unable to forewarn you of my visit.”
He could make out the shadow of Mrs Pemberton hovering by the doorway. Her thinly angular features matched those on the picture he had so recently studied. The advantages the internet provided for all walks of life was remarkable. He wondered if she truly knew too much about her latest Facebook friend.
“That’s very kind of you,” Pemberton replied. “I was wondering when you chaps might show up, rather hoping it might have been a touch earlier to be honest. We tried speaking with some of your colleagues over in Thailand. They were quite polite about things, but didn’t see that there could be much that they could do. They put me in contact with the tourist police. All that those boys could say was that they would keep a good lookout, but that young backpackers go missing all the time and eventually show up none the worse for wear. The thing is that this is not Louise’s style. She is always very responsible and careful. Well, with few other options at our disposal, we had little choice other than to despatch someone to go and look for her, an old friend of sorts. He’s over there now. Pleasant enough fellow and all that, bags of enthusiasm, but probably lacks proper experience and resources for such matters. Could probably do with some extra help to be honest, a bit of diplomatic weight pushed in the right areas.”
Deng was taking all of this in, absorbing it into his sharpened memory and was keen to draw out more information. He liked what he was hearing concerning their ‘covert’ friend. Before he left he was seeking to make a few concrete promises mingled with a few leads to chase up. It was what he excelled at in one of his less legitimate lines of employment.
“That is perhaps where I come in,” he replied, his voice low and reassuring. “It is a shame that previous encounters with my government have brought little in your quest to find Louise. I have some influence and can ensure that we act as a more proactive partner. If you could initially provide me with photographs and access to her email account I would be most grateful. I will endeavour to get things moving forward immediately. Perhaps also if you have any contact details for this friend of hers? Naturally, please keep me fully updated with all further news, especially if this trusted friend should learn any further information as to her whereabouts.”
Soon after, his tea arrived - a welcome refreshment whilst he listened to Pemberton recount full details since their last contact with Louise. He noted that the tea was served into a gilt-edged Royal Worcester teacup, evidence enough that his trust was fully accepted in this quiet corner of English suburbia. The best china in all its glory. When the subject of Louise’s friend came up, Deng listened all the more attentively. The important news appeared to be that this amateur sleuth was already in Laos and was due to make contact any day. If Deng’s pitch was working then he, too, should be privy to any of this news coming out of Laos. Pemberton finished his detailed lecture with the recent distress brought on by a break-in. This caused great surprise to Deng, a shot of adrenaline he did well to hide. Coincidences did not happen. Other parties were thorough enough to follow the motorway to Portishead. They would certainly have been hired hands; professionals. He hoped that they were disappointed with their visit to the English West Country.
“Might I see Louise’s room? It’s just that there might be some clue to her whereabouts here-to overlooked.”
Deng ensured that he was polite to the point of formality. His presentation looked to be coming over well, but he still needed to gain Pemberton’s full trust.
“Certainly. I can show you the way.”
Deng followed Pemberton up the stairs whose carpet had circular motifs. A rosewood cuckoo clock downstairs was busy telling its world that it was two o’clock in the afternoon.
He was introduced by Pemberton into an airy room exhibiting all of the trimmings a young woman might use to surround herself. The red Bristol City FC poster and scarf clearly demonstrated her allegiance to the local football team. This was tempered by a selection of French perfumes and a rosewood jewellery box. The centrepiece was the flat-screen monitor linked to a Dell PC below the desk. Deng was hoping for this. Two days previously he had been a guest speaker at an ethical hacking seminar hosted by a district council and was known for his published articles on system security. Hacking into a home PC was unlikely to tax his ability to any high degree.
“Do you mind if I have a look at the PC? It might help us learn more of where Louise might have gone. I’m sure that I can start it up if need be.”
Knowing that he needed the privacy, Deng added, “It could take a while. If you like I can join you downstairs when I have quickly scanned things.” Seeing Pemberton hesitate, he went on, “I know that it might seem a breach of her confidence, but believe me, this is the best way I can think of to track down Louise and get her back to you.”
With solitude ensured, Deng went about breaking into Louise’s files and accounts. He used a simple 80 GB memory stick, something he could safely conceal on his way out past the Pembertons’ penetrating gaze. Such a useful tool could help pirate away reams of files and directories for later analysis, almost as much as the computer’s hard-disk capacity. Happy after ten minutes of downloads he scanned the room for signs of recent communication. A piece of string protruding from under the pine wardrobe caught his eye. It looked misplaced and unusual in a bedroom where everything had a home. A small tug revealed a neatly bundled pile of envelopes. From various states of discolour it was immediately evident that many were quite old, previous pen friends from the era before email. A couple near the top were much newer. Deng carefully tucked the envelopes into a small executive bag he held close to his side. Taking a seemingly more legitimate entry into the Pembertons suburban homestead looked to reap far more rewards than a simple break and enter. Deng felt pleased that he would have gained far more than the previous intruders.
Making his way out, Deng stopped to converse briefly with the Pembertons. After some small talk he again pledged to do all he could, handing over a gilt-edged business card with contact details. He believed in the essential expense for professional printers to design and produce his cards. It acted as a final proof of his respectability.
“Please do contact me if you hear anything at all, no matter how small you might think it to be. Such things can often be so important.” The expensive dental work beamed through the reassuring smile.
“We certainly will, Mr Korat,” Pemberton replied. “Thank you for popping over today.”
“No problem at all. Anything I can do to be of service.”
Deng was led through the door and made his way down the tarmac drive. His smile was genuine, very genuine. PC38 would be thrilled with his performance this afternoon.