“Can you get us close enough so we can see?” Logan asked.
The driver took them to within a block of the structure. It was a ratty, unfinished building that looked like construction had stopped soon after they’d poured the concrete for each of the seven floors, and long before any interior work or walls on the outside had begun. Moss and dirt covered the pillars, while wild grass and bushes had been left to flourish across the lot. Logan got the impression that several people were making the place their not-so-temporary home.
Daeng took the phone from the driver so he could talk with his man on the scene. “He’s gone all the way through the building to the open area in back,” he said to Logan as he listened.
Logan looked ahead, straining to see, but that portion of the lot was out of sight.
“He’s talking to someone…a squatter, it sounds like…my guy can’t get close enough to hear the conversation…okay, the farang is handing over the duffle bags…the squatter’s carrying them to…I guess there’s a fire pit back there…he’s putting the bags in the fire…the farang’s watching…the bags are fully in flames now…okay, hold on, hold on…they’re walking back toward the street and… the farang is handing him some money…”
Talk about thorough, Logan thought. Aaron and his friends were apparently not willing to just toss whatever they’d cleaned up into the trash. They wanted it burned. That was too bad. It would have been nice to see what was inside those bags.
“…he’s heading back to the taxi now,” Daeng finished.
Logan looked down the street. A few seconds later, Aaron came out from the building and climbed into his cab. The pursuit then continued as before.
The third stop was at a building that couldn’t have been more different than the one Aaron had just visited. It was a modern-looking, glass business tower, twenty stories high. One of Daeng’s men was able to get into the lobby just as the elevator doors closed on the car Aaron was in. The man watched the indicator. It stopped on the fourteenth floor, then headed back down.
“Send him up,” Logan said, after Daeng asked him what he wanted to do.
According to the man, there were several different suites on the fourteenth floor: an import-export business, an accounting firm, and a few offices that were only marked with names of people.
“Make sure he doesn’t give himself away,” Logan warned.
Daeng shook his head. “He won’t.”
Suddenly he pressed the phone tightly against his ear, listening hard.
“I think the farang just came out of one of the offices. My man can’t talk.”
There was a tense several minutes when they didn’t know what was happening, then Daeng said, “They’re in the main lobby, heading out. He says another man came out of the office, too. A farang also. They both got onto the elevator, and my man joined them.”
“You’re kidding,” Logan said, concerned.
“It’s okay. Standing in the hallway like he was, he’d have been more noticeable if he hadn’t gotten on.”
That may have been true, but it still had Logan worried.
“He says they didn’t talk on the way down, but did give each other a little nod as they got out at the bottom. Also says our guy is now carrying a large envelope.”
An envelope? Logan was very interested to see what was inside of that.
Daeng was silent for a moment, then said, “The two farang are outside now. The young guy is heading back to his taxi, but the other one is walking down the street. What do you want to do?”
“Your guy in the building, is he the only one other than us following the cab?”
“No. There are three others.”
Logan raised an eyebrow, impressed. “Then have him follow this new guy, and see where he goes. The rest of us will stay with the cab.”
Suddenly they had quite an operation going. Along with the group following Aaron’s taxi, there was a man tagging after the guy who’d gotten out of the cab before Aaron had burned the duffle bags, and now there was this new guy, too.
Logan’s phone began to vibrate in his pocket. He frowned as he read the name on the display screen: DAD. Things were a little too crazy at the moment to deal with his father, so Logan sent the call to voicemail.
A half a minute later, his phone rang again.
“Dad, not now,” he said, realizing the only way to get rid of him was to talk to him.