Overthrow (A James Winchester Thriller Book 2) (James Winchester Series) by James Samuel (the gingerbread man read aloud .TXT) 📕

Mr. Arun removed all the furniture for fear of it being stolen. The people of Cambodia were so poor they would steal anything not nailed down. As he lit his morning cigarette, he homed in on a couple of young men sleeping in front of the shuttered storefronts.

They slept fully clothed on pieces of cardboard they’d managed to pilfer. Few people were outside this early, other than the pickers who rooted through the trash for anything of value. A couple of rats the size of a child’s forearm scuttled through the gutters, escaping the orange eye of God peeking out from the horizon of the Mekong River.

The thought of humans sleeping on the street as these monsters ran all over them sickened James to the core. No matter how many impoverished nations he visited as part of his job, he never got used to the dirt and the grime some people had to endure.

“Sir, you are up so early.” Mr. Arun bounded towards him, his ivory white teeth lighting up the morning. “You didn’t sleep well? What can I do to help?”

James resisted the urge to ask him to install air conditioning. “Not at all. I just like to wake up early sometimes.”

“If you are sure, sir. How is the other sir? Did he sleep well?”

He glanced back towards the quiet hotel. “I assume so. He’s still sleeping.”

“Good. Very good. You are very welcome anytime.”

The excitable Mr. Arun bemused James. The owner even managed to release a smile this early in the morning. “Mr. Arun, I heard that these streets are full of brothels.”

“Aha!” Mr. Arun jumped up and down on his toes. “Yes, yes, sir, you can find any woman you like. Very sexy women in those streets.” He pointed across from the hotel. “Behind this street here, you find two streets filled with brothels. Very popular with white people. Very safe for tourists.”

James nodded. “Have you ever heard the name, Saluk Chea?”

Mr. Arun pursed his lips. “How do you know Mr. Chea, sir? Foreigners never know Mr. Chea. He is a big man in this city, a dangerous man. Mr. Chea controls all the girls in this district, and the children too.”

He stopped, thinking he hadn’t heard him correctly. James spoke slowly, deliberately emphasising every syllable. “What do you mean when you say he controls the children?”

“The children, sir.” Mr. Arun shook his head. “A very bad business. Very bad business.”

“Yes, yes, get on with it. What are you trying to say?”

“The barang. Barang such as yourself like to come here. They make bad things with the children. The children come from the villages. Their families are very poor, and they need the money, so they send the children to Mr. Chea to work here. They work here, and they make business with barang.”

It took James a few seconds to fill in the gaps in Mr. Arun’s language. Then it clicked. He was referring to the child prostitution rings in Phnom Penh. They were less famous than those of the Philippines, but they were just as revolting all the same.

“And it’s all just over there?” James gestured towards the streets beyond. “The next street over?”

“Yes, sir. Yes, sir. I don’t like barang who want children. I hope you are not one of them, sir.”

“No, no, God no. I don’t want any children.”

Mr. Arun’s moonlight smile returned. “Good, sir, very good.”

“Could I meet this Mr. Chea? How would I go about setting up a meeting with him?”

“Mr. Chea?” Mr. Arun scratched his head. “You want to meet Mr. Chea?”

James let out a deep breath. “Yes, I want to meet Mr. Chea.”

“Impossible, sir. He’s a businessman. A businessman who doesn’t deal with barang. Impossible, quite impossible.”

“Where does he work, Mr. Arun? I can always try.”

“Try? How you try? Mr. Chea does not deal with barang.”

“Humour me, Mr. Arun. Please.”

Mr. Arun made a little groaning sound as he clawed at the side of his head again. James had seen Mr. Chea’s name in Thom’s dossier. He worked closely with General Narith and delivered him a large cut of money every month from the Doun Penh District. Taking out Mr. Chea was just the first step in dismantling the general’s powerbase. A nice piece of work for the day.

“There is a brothel called the Palace. Two streets away. The Palace is where Mr. Chea is said to have his office. From there, he controls the other brothels through his managers. But be careful, sir, he is a very dangerous man.”

“Okay, I will.”

“Very careful, sir.”

“Yes, thank you, Mr. Arun.” James flicked his eyebrows and turned away to finish smoking his cigarette.

“Good luck to you, sir.”

Mr. Arun bowed as he retreated towards the shutters. James’ phone buzzed and he picked it out of his pocket.

The message from Sinclair read, “Did you find out where Mr. Chea was yet?”

James locked his phone and dropped it back into his pocket, disturbed that Sinclair seemed to know him so well.

Chapter Six

Sihanoukville, Preah Sihanouk Province, Cambodia

 

On the outskirts of Sihanoukville, a walled compound formed the borders of China in miniature. Shao strolled through his gardens towards the square Chinese pavilion. In his wake, his servants followed, with the tea he had ordered. In the morning, he liked to sit in his pavilion and meditate.

Shao stepped onto the tiles in his silk ruby slippers. The bustle of Sihanoukville failed to penetrate the peace of his compound. The whooping of his vibrant peacocks played counterpoint to the rustling of the trees that hid the wall from the inside. He passed into the pavilion, his slippers hitting the stone with a soft slap.

One of his white-shirted Chinese servants leaned towards him. “Mr. Fen, Prahn Sambath is waiting for you.”

Shao flicked his gaze at him. He never