Season One, Episode Twenty-Seven: To Hell With Public Health

A hotel room bathtub filled with water.
The professor was leaning over it as if he was about to vomit. Sweat on his forehead. He peered into the tub, then leaned back and turned around.
Beneath the mirror, an array of cups, bottles and test tubes was lined up as if for an exhibition.
The professor took a tube out of his lab coat pocket. It was filled with an orange dust. He took a blue plastic cup, scooped up water from the tub and added some dust from the tube before setting the cup back in its original place. Then he again leaned over the water, watching it smooth over.
He almost fell in when he heard the buzz from behind. His cell phone, vibrating next to the cup of water with the orange dust. The phone was pushing against the cup.
The professor grabbed the phone and looked at its screen, letting it buzz five times before it went dead. With one look over his shoulder at the tub, he walked out of the bathroom and into a non-descript hotel room. Television set, desk, bed. The desk was covered in documents, which he swept together in a file. He put the file into the attaché case he pulled from behind the TV.
The professor walked back into the bathroom, holding the cell phone in his left hand. As he was about to cross the threshold, the phone buzzed again. This time, after checking the number on the screen again, he took the call.
‘He’s giving me two months,’ he said without introduction.
He listened to the reply.
‘Immediately? I’m in the middle of a test,’ he said, throwing a look into the bathroom.’
‘Pack your bags and be outta there right now. Disappear,’ the man’s voice on the other side said.
‘What do you know that I don’t know?’ the professor asked.
‘A lot of bad stuff. Get your test tubes or whatever you’re using, stuff them in a bag and run. And I mean run,’ the man said.
The professor shut the cell down and rushed into the bathroom, knocking over a few empty test tubes and plastic bottles. He pulled the curtain shut to hide the bathtub from view and took the cup with the water and the orange powder. It still looked the same. He looked around holding the cup, swore and emptied its content into the sink.
‘To hell with safety and public health.’
The professor ran out of the bathroom, pulled a bag from under the bed, and headed for the door carrying both the bag and the attaché case. Just as he was about to open the door, the phone rang. Not his cell phone, but the hotel phone. The professor stared for a second and ripped the door open. Out he went.

Two bulky men and a sturdy woman were crowding the hotel elevator.
‘Room 713,’ the woman said. Nobody replied. The trio was all wearing dark clothes, a bit too heavy for the time of year.
‘This is the seventh,’ the woman said.
They ran straight out of the elevator to look at a list of the hotel room numbers.
‘713 is to the left,’ one of the men said. To the left they ran.

‘Don’t touch that stuff,’ the woman told one of the man as he ripped the curtain aside and saw the tub filled with water.
‘Do we need to analyze it?’
‘They’ll come here to do the dirty work,’ she said.
The woman rushed back into the main room to make a call.
‘The professor has gone, but he left a bathtub full of water,’ she said into the phone.

The tall guy was standing on a rooftop, watching the professor boarding a cab five floors down.
‘Don’t touch anything, I’ll have the water analyzed. We’ll get the professor later,’ the man said into his cell phone.
He pocketed the phone and grinned at the cab driving away from the hotel across the street.
‘Two months, dear professor,’ Inspector Mondeo said with a grin.

‘The Garden of Truth,’ Markus repeated.
He leaned forward while keeping one hand on the box they had dug up inside the Garden of Temerity.
‘What is the truth and can I count on you to tell it?’ he asked.
‘We are your friends,’ Riot said while steering the ute on to the main road.
‘Who is we?’
‘I am we,’ Charlo’ said.
Both Markus and Riot turned their heads toward her.
‘I accompanied you to Taiwan because he told me to do so,’ she said, pointing at Riot. ‘He wanted me to guard you, to watch over your safety.’
‘I’m sorry, but I don’t buy that story. You came with me to spy on me and to make sure I got the key,’ Markus said. ‘I never saw you as a traitor, by the way.’
‘I am not a traitor. I helped you, remember.’
‘So that’s how Riot knew he could phone Trick’s house and find me there.’
‘I told you, Bentley, we are the good guys,’ Riot said.
‘How do you two know each other?’
‘Riot is one of the investors in my shooting range,’ Charlo’ said.
‘Your appearance at the night club that first night was not a coincidence,’ Markus said.
‘Nothing ever is, Markus,’ Riot said.
‘Who are you working for, Riot? Why did you kill my sister?’
‘I didn’t kill your sister. You killed the Russians who did that, remember?’
‘Stop the car,’ Markus said.

NEXT: Markus Bentley tries to find a way out in Episode Twenty-Eight before August 16.

Season One, Episode Twenty-Four: The Garden of Temerity

The room was way dark compared with the sunny day outside. The curtains had been completely drawn, only a handful of small spotlights had been switched on, showing the ominous dark paintings on the wall.
Camry sat with his back to the polished oak door. The table in front of him was wide enough for eight people to take part in a medieval banquet, but right now there was no food, and there was only one person in the room in addition to Camry.
‘You’re going to tell me about the Russian,’ the other man said.
Camry looked so surprised he even stopped fidgeting with his tie for a second.
‘What Russian?’
‘Don’t even pretend you don’t understand me,’ the man said. ‘I’m talking about the man with the initials V.O. and you have been stalking him for a long time.’
‘He’s of no harm to me anymore,’ Camry said. ‘Can I get something to drink in here?’
The man pointed at a water dispenser in a corner of the room. Camry went over and got himself a paper cup full of the stuff. Back at the table, he inspected the water before taking a sip.
‘You don’t trust our water supply?’

Camry’s driver was kicking the tires of the Mercedes 700 and kicking the ash off his cigarette. He was standing with his back to the villa, so he couldn’t see the slight move in the curtain on the second floor.
‘He’s of no harm to me anymore,’ a voice came from behind Inspector Mondeo’s back in the room. ‘Can I get something to drink in here?’
Mondeo turned away from the window and the driver and looked at the laptop showing the image of Camry walking across the room below to get some water.
Mondeo smirked as he watched the man inspect the paper cup.
‘Scared of the water, you’d better be,’ Mondeo said to himself.

The expensive Italian car was driving at a speed just below the official limit on the main coastal road.
‘Fascinating story, but do you believe it?’ Charlo’ asked.
‘About the water? I think he has something else up his sleeve. But I wasn’t in a position to ask,’ Markus said.
‘Turn left, eight miles ahead,’ the GPS voice told them.
‘I wish I could turn this thing off, it gives me a headache.’
‘Will this be our final destination, or will we find another key?’
‘It can’t be. I don’t know what we’ll find, but two things it won’t be. A key and an ambush,’ he said.
‘I was aching for an ambush. We haven’t been shot at since Taiwan, remember?’
‘Turn left, six miles ahead.’

‘We agreed on two months,’ Camry said, finishing his water. He held the cup up in a gesture asking for more. The man at the other side of the table waved his agreement, so Camry stood up and walked away.
‘Tighten the screws,’ Mondeo whispered in his microphone on the second floor.
‘He can do it in less, he’s just stalling us for more money,’ Camry heard the man at the table say.
‘I can be very persuasive if I want to, but less than two months? That’s going to be a stretch,’ Camry said walking back with a new cup of water.
‘Then stretch.’
‘I’ll see what I can do,’ Camry said.
‘You’ll do what we want you do.’
‘No need to go all Mister Nasty over me.’
‘Then stay away from the Russians and persuade your professor to work faster. We need the technology.’
‘He’s your professor too. Which reminds me I need some more money from you if I am to convince him to bring up the schedule,’ Camry said, standing up as if he wanted to leave the room.
‘Money, that’s all what you people think about.’
‘Water doesn’t come cheap in my part of the world.’
Mondeo turned away from the screen and looked out the window. Camry’s driver had moved under the trees to seek respite from the sunlight.
‘I’ll be Mister Nasty all over you sooner than you expect,’ Mondeo mumbled to himself as the computer screen behind him went blank.

‘Turn left.’
Markus was driving up the intersection at 40 miles an hour. Instead of braking, he just pulled a hard left and cut off the cyclists coming in the other direction. The move earned him loud angry words and a couple of obscene gestures.
The car was now barreling down a dusty road, throwing up a huge cloud.
‘Can’t you take it down a few notches?’ Charlo’ said.
Markus slowed down enough for them to see the scenery. Long, wild, dry grasses, olive trees, and beyond, the blue horizon of the ocean.
‘Turn right at next intersection.’
They weren’t expecting any intersection on a dust road, but there was. Markus turned right as the voice said, and one mile of meandering country driving further, the voice gave its final instruction.
‘You have reached the Garden of Temerity.’

NEXT: Markus Bentley and Charlo’ enter the Garden of Temerity in Episode Twenty-Five before July 1.

Season One, Episode Twenty-Three: Dead Lines

‘That’s what deadlines are. Dead lines. You cross the line and you’re dead.’
The expensive suit jacket was hanging over the rickety chair, the black tie folded neatly on the seat. Even in the flickering neon light, you could still tell these were expensive clothes, not the kind one wears to an ordinary daily office grind.
The professor had his hands tied behind his back on the other chair. He was wearing his white lab coat, but the cloth looked soiled, raspy, as if it had been scraped along a rough and dirty pavement.
Sweat covered his face as he looked up at the man leaning over him. Camry looked even more devilish up close, with his white shirt unbuttoned half way down.
‘You’re lucky I have an important meeting scheduled, so I can’t use this tie to explain to you what a deadline is. But the people I am meeting are very serious about deadlines, and so should you.’
‘It’s a chemical process,’ the professor said in a voice laden with suppressed agony. ‘If it’s three months, it’s three months. There’s nothing I can do about it. There’s nothing the brightest chemist or engineer in the world could do about it.’
Camry spat in his face.
‘I’m paying you to work. Not to find excuses for not working.’
‘Working with water is a complicated process. I need to get the balance right.’
‘You need to get the balance right,’ Camry said slowly. ‘The balance you need to get right is the one between obeying my orders and receiving a mighty bit of punishment. Do you understand that?’
Before the professor had a chance to reply, Camry smashed a fist in his face, causing his head to pop back like a basketball in some game.
‘Two months,’ Camry said. ‘Do you know what that is?’
He pointed at a table in one corner, away from the neon light. The professor strained his bloodied head to look in the direction.
‘A jug filled with your three-month water,’ Camry answered his own question. ‘Wouldn’t it be ironic if I asked you to drink it, or if I poured it over you?’
The professor shuddered and looked down.
‘Please. Let me work to develop it.’
‘Two months.’
‘Two months.’

‘It was a three because I was not in shape.’
Camry was relaxing in the rear seat of the Mercedes 700 with a glass of French Cognac. They were driving through a high-class residential neighborhood, mansions, trees, lawns with signs telling you you could get shot if you tread on the grass.
‘Our professor is going to work harder but he’ll need an extra set of eyes watching him just in case his feet get itchy.’
‘I’ll take care of him,’ the driver said.
‘That’s where we’re going.’ Camry pointed at a Spanish-style mansion, yellowish walls, red roof tiles, a round tower at one end. The wrought-iron gate turned open without them even saying or doing anything. Camry put his glass down on the fold-out table surface.
‘I’ll put a word in for our friendly professor. Such a nice and hard-working man.’

‘Camry’s the most dangerous man this side of the ocean,’ Riot said. He was leaning against the expensive Italian car as Markus Bentley and Charlo’ were standing in front of him. ‘I can only assume it was him who had the video recording on the laptop delivered to your place. He focused your attention on the guard, and you went running after the Russian.’
‘Wasn’t the Russian the man who killed my sister?’
Riot looked away over the ocean.
‘Let’s just say we shouldn’t feel sorry about this Russian passing on to another life. If there’s any justice, he will suffer miserably. The problem is, you took the bag I gave you and you drew the wrong conclusions.’
Bentley looked at the objects displayed on the roof of the car.
‘You saw the Three Elders, so you rushed off to Taiwan,’ Riot continued.
‘How do you know about Taiwan?’
‘Remember, I was your sister’s friend and colleague.’
‘I still don’t believe too much of that.’
‘You saw the red doll, and you traveled to Macau. Wrong again.’
‘So what are you saying, what should I have focused on?’ Markus asked.
Riot grabbed the bottle of water from the roof and held it upside down.
‘This magic baby.’

NEXT: Camry meets some Very Important People in Episode Twenty-Four before June 18.

Season One, Episode Twenty-Two: The Water

‘If it’s another key, I’ll kill you with my bare hands,’ Charlo’ said.
Markus was driving her car along the coast, away from the city.
‘How do you know where to find the car?’
‘It’s a long story.’
‘Once you have the car, where are you going to take it?’
‘It will tell me.’
‘I followed you half way around the world and I still can’t figure you out.’
‘That’s the beauty of me,’ Markus said.
‘You got away with killing your sister’s killer, what more do you want?’
‘She left me those messages from beyond her death.’
‘The Three Elders?’
Markus nodded as he steered the car round a sharp bend.
‘Leaving me the three elders told me I had to go to their source, Taiwan. There I found the one surviving elder, Lass, and the son of the other, Trick. The red doll then told me to travel to Macau, to find the key.’
‘But where is the end of the journey? Or isn’t there one?’
‘There it is.’
Markus pointed at an empty space to the left of the road, above the ocean. A dark blue car was parked under the trees. He braked hard and swung the car across the main road on to a dusty track.
‘What is it?’
‘An Italian luxury car.’
‘What’s so special about that?’
‘It’s rare, so it’s easy to find. And it’s preprogrammed to take us to our destination.’
Markus parked their car right next to their target. The Italian car was obviously brand new, but it had gained a layer of dust standing here exposed to the wind from the sea.
‘You’ll think Riot will find us?’ Charlo’ asked.
‘If he does, we’ll be ready.’
Markus flashed the key at the car and the doors popped open. He took the driver’s seat, crammed his bag behind his feet, and turned his attention to the screen at the center of the leathery dashboard.
‘You know what a GPS is, right?’ he asked her.
‘It’s not because I don’t need one that I don’t know what it is.’
An intricate web of streets flashed up on the screen.
‘This baby will tell us where our destination is.’
‘I hope it’s somewhere closer than Macau.’
‘Stop.’
A heavy sports ute screeched to a halt right behind the car, blocking their exit. The car they had come in was to their left, trees to their right, and the ocean straight ahead.
Markus saw a man walk up to his side of the car. The face that leaned down against the window was Riot’s.
Markus rolled down the window.
‘So I finally caught up with you,’ Riot said, without a look at Charlo’. ‘Are you shock-resistant?’
‘What’s that supposed to mean? First, you do your dying-man routine, give me my sister’s things. How do I know you didn’t kill her and this is all a conspiracy to use me to get at your enemies?’
‘What did you tell Mondeo?’
‘Who?’
‘The black cop.’
‘How do you know?’ Markus asked.
‘I had friends at the airport.’
‘Show me what I gave you,’ Riot said.
Markus pulled the bag from behind his feet and put it across the mid-section, out of Riot’s reach. He started taking his things out of the bag. His sister’s things. He pulled out the red faceless doll, the Three Elders, the bottle of water.
‘Did you drink from this?’ Riot asked.
Markus shook his head.
‘Just like we thought. You’re very conscientious …’
‘Who is we?’ Markus asked.
Riot grinned. ‘You’re smart. My friends and I.’
‘Do I get to meet them?’
Riot’s grin vanished.
‘Do you know a man named Camry?’ he asked.

NEXT: Riot tells Markus Bentley about Camry in Episode Twenty-Three before June 3.

Season One, Episode Nineteen: Mondeo

Markus and Charlo’ split up again on arrival, just in case some nasties were lying in wait, he said. They didn’t have much luggage so passing through customs was easy, though Markus had some trouble with officers staring at his bare feet. He told them some story about losing a bet with a Chinese fellow passenger on his way to Vegas.
He was finding his way to the parking garage when he noticed the tall black guy staring at him. He came up on him so fast there was no time to avoid him.
‘Welcome home, Mister Bentley,’ the man said. He had cop written all over him.
‘This is not about my shoes, is it?’ Markus asked.
The black guy flashed a badge because he had to, but Markus had no time to read what was on it. The man guided him into a small, bare room. On the wall were the portrait of the new president, hanging slightly askew, and a leftover piece of Christmas decoration nobody had bothered to remove.
‘Merry Christmas,’ said Markus.
The black guy didn’t reply but immediately adjusted the portrait’s angle and sat down at the end of the table in front of the two objects. He pointed out the chair in front of him and waved at a uniformed cop entering the doorway.
‘Give this man a pair of shoes.’
‘Inspector,’ Markus said.
The big black man raised his eyebrows.
‘What is your name?’ Markus asked.
‘Asking for names is my job, not yours.’
‘Shall I call you Larry Fishburne then?’
The big man broke out in a loud laugh.
‘You’re funny for a suspect under investigation for the disappearance of his sister,’ he said.
‘You must be joking,’ Markus said.
‘Crime and jokes don’t go together well. Your sister vanishes. Naturally, we think the suspect must be the boyfriend or the husband or something. But there is no boyfriend or husband. There is only a brother. You. And you vanish to Taiwan or some other pretty distant island. Taking the money to safety?’
‘Taiwan isn’t the Caymans. There is no money. I hadn’t met my sister for ages.’
‘Gambling it all away in Macau because it’s safer than Vegas?’
‘I told you, I don’t have any money. And I’m not a gambling man.’
‘That’s not the information we have. What if we searched you? I mean, really strip searched you?’
‘So what, I have nothing to hide.’
‘Nothing is not what I came here for.’
‘Why do you keep saying my sister disappeared? She was murdered, so you should be looking for her murderers.’
‘If you’re so sure she was murdered, why don’t you show us where the body is, Mister Bentley?’
‘Wasn’t she murdered in the parking lot of her office?’
‘You seem to know a lot about the alleged murder of your sister, Mister Bentley.’
The uniformed officer interrupted the conversation by bringing in a pair of sneakers.
‘Don’t worry, Mister Bentley, we didn’t take it from the airport morgue,’ the inspector grinned.

Charlo’ phoned Riot.
‘They’ve got him,’ she said.
‘Who? Camry?’ Riot asked.
‘A tall African-American guy in a suit. Am I supposed to know him?’
Riot looked over his shoulder. The woman shook her head.
‘Don’t worry, but stay away from him. And let us know what happens to Bentley. If he leaves, follow him but don’t approach him until you’re sure he’s not being followed.’
‘I’ll keep hanging out around the airport, then,’ Charlo’ said.
‘You do that,’ Riot replied before ending the connection and turning round to face the woman. ‘Mondeo’s got him,’ he said.
‘Is he working on his own or for the …,’ she asked.
Riot put his finger on her lips.
‘Is doesn’t matter. It looks like Markus has been compromised. Can we allow him to meet you?’

NEXT: Riot is looking for Markus Bentley in Episode Twenty before April 15.

Season One, Episode Seventeen: Macau

Camry sat pulling at the collar of his suit shirt on the back seat of the S-class.
‘Drop me off around the next corner and go keep yourself busy until you get my signal,’ he told the driver.
He left the suit jacket inside the car and walked the block back, hoping he wouldn’t be conspicuous among the salary slaves out for lunch.
As he had expected, the restaurant was crowded and he didn’t draw any undue attention sitting down in the middle of the room on his own. He ordered a set meal, soup, main dish, but no dessert.
Halfway through the meal, he noticed a man in a dark suit heading for the restrooms. Just a minute later, a man in his fifties wearing a pink – sorry, salmon – polo shirt also left his place. Camry counted until five and followed them.
Inside, he first brushed water through his hair. When the man in the dark suit left, a dark pall moved over his face. The water rumbled behind the closed door, third from the entrance. The lock was pushed open with a metallic clang. Just as the guy in the polo shirt was putting his foot out, Camry pushed him back in, grabbing him by the throat to drown out the sound. He stabbed his knife through the salmon polo shirt until his target was reclining on the can with blood dripping, Camry came out, softly pulled the door shut so it wouldn’t reopen of its own accord, and went to clean the knife in the sink.
He returned to his meal, slowly finishing the lamb roast with his knife and fork. No rush, no haste. He politely declined coffee, paid cash and walked over to the next block before calling for his driver.

Charlo’ watched as the wet patches of rice fields vanished behind the low clouds. Markus sat next to her on the Air Macau flight from Taiwan’s Taoyuan International Airport. She turned to him.
‘Glad to be out of that place. So, are you finally ready to give me an explanation? Are the Three Elders history now?’
‘The first one was Lassiter, the second one was Trick’s father. And the third one was my father.’
‘What was their connection?’
‘They all did business together here in Asia at one time.’
‘That’s what Trick told me. What kind of business were they in?’
‘International trade.’
The ‘fasten your seat belts’ sign flooped off and the pilot made an announcement about altitudes and temperatures.
‘Why did his parents choose the name Trick?’
‘They didn’t. He did. Taiwanese only receive a Chinese name at birth. They later pick their own foreign names if they want one. Even then, you get lots of crazy names. Like Apple and Medicare.’
‘Medicare?’ she grinned.
‘Don’t ask. I once met a doctor with that name.’
The flight assistant came round with the headphones. Markus stuffed his in the back of the seat in front of him, Charlo’ unwrapped hers.
‘I thought you wanted to hear my story,’ he said.
‘I was losing hope you would ever get to it,’ she replied. She put the headphones on her lap.
‘This man, Riot, claimed to be a colleague of my sister. I’ve been out of touch with her for years, so I didn’t know whether he was telling the truth. Yet he had my address and he had those things that only I knew my sister had. All presents from our father. The Three Elders told me I had to go back to Taiwan, because that’s where my father had them made. That is where the Three Elders, the real three, lived.’
‘But only one of them is still alive, and he didn’t tell you much, did he?’
‘That’s when Riot’s phone call came in. I don’t know how he could know I was at Trick’s place, but he did, and he told me I was on the wrong track.’
‘So you believe him?’
An elderly Chinese lady stood up behind Charlo’ and pulled hard at her seat. Charlo’ shot her an annoyed look.
‘The only other possibility was this.’
Markus pulled the red faceless doll from his sports bag stowed under the seat in front. He had given the flight attendant who advised him to jam it into the overhead compartment a convincing shake of the head.
‘My father gave this doll to my sister during a vacation in Macau. He had just returned from a trip to Japan, where he bought this thing.’
‘Because he gave it to her in Macau, that’s why we’re going there?’
Markus nodded.
‘You’ll understand when we get there. It’s a clue, a sign.’
‘International man of mystery. Traveling with you is certainly an adventure. Will we be doing a spot of gambling? You know, Vegas of the East, casinos?’
Markus shook his head.
‘That’s not what we’re here for. I want to go in quickly and leave quickly.’
‘Why not enjoy it while we’re here?’
‘I thought you were the one complaining about me taking you everywhere,’ Markus said.
‘Let me think. The doll is from Japan, so that’s where we’ll be heading next.’
‘What’s the matter, don’t you like the jetset life?’
‘It’s just that I don’t like drifting around the world without being told what it is all about.’
Markus tapped his finger on her headphones.
‘Our next destination is home,’ he whispered.
‘Can we get marzipan on this flight?’ she asked.
‘No, and no moaji either.’
The flight attendants came up with the meals. The flight only lasted a mere 90 minutes, so bread, simple combinations of pre-packaged vegetables and fruits, and a miniature pot of yoghurt was all there was. Markus asked for white wine.
‘Will I have to speak Portuguese?’ she asked.
‘Most people here speak Cantonese. The Portuguese is just inscriptions on buildings. So don’t worry. I don’t speak Cantonese either, but we’ll get by in English.’

In Macau, Markus and Charlo’ were following the flow of tourists, heading down Main Street with its Portuguese-era baroque churches and buildings, with ugly casinos looming behind as so many threats of brash modernity against cultured history.
Markus took a sordid alley to the right at the end of the street. A stocky man in boxer shorts and white underwear came out of the doorway, Markus rushed to take the open door from him. He signaled at Charlo’ to follow him inside. A finger across his mouth told her not to speak.
They followed the creaky staircase up to the third floor. Under the stairs leading to the fourth, Markus opened a low door. Inside, a wall covered in tiles. Tiny grey tiles, but also one big blue one, showing a city scene. A church at the end of a crowded narrow street with laundry hanging from the balconies. The words ‘Alfama - Lisboa’ written at the bottom. The tile didn’t really fit in with the rest of the wall.
‘Go get me a knife in there.’ Markus pointed Charlo’ at an open doorway at the end of the hall. ‘It’s a communal kitchen. They won’t eat you.’
He took the knife from her and started hacking at the cement around the blue tile.
‘Why are you damaging that nice wall?’ Charlo’ asked.
‘Once I have what’s in that nice wall of yours, we can all go home.’

NEXT: Markus Bentley uncovers what is behind the tile in Episode Eighteen before March 15.

Season One, Episode Sixteen: Moaji

Markus walked over to the other room to pick up the phone, while Trick poured Charlo' another cup of green tea.
‘Do you know moaji?’ the Taiwanese man asked her.
‘Never heard of her,’ Charlo' smiled.
‘Do you like sweets?’
‘He does,’ Charlo' said with a wave in the direction of the other room. ‘He always has marzipan on him.’
Trick smiled.
‘He learned that here. He was bored with life, so he went about making things himself. Painting, at first. When the galleries weren't interested, he turned to food.’
‘Interesting. So what kind of food were you mentioning there?’
‘Moaji. The aboriginals here in Taiwan make them. Rice stamped into a sweet ball, with peanut or sesame inside and outside. I'll get some for you to taste.’
Charlo' wondered whether he was going somewhere to listen in to Bentley's conversation. But Trick was back in seconds. Carrying a tray with four peanut-colored balls. He offered her a pair of chopsticks.
‘How did you meet Markus?’ she asked.
They reclined, munching on the moaji.
‘Our fathers knew each other. His was stationed here for a long time, and obviously, my father was Taiwanese.’
‘You say his father was stationed here, you mean like a military man?’
‘Something like that. I was young, I don't know too much about that. Markus and I went to the same school and grew up together until he left for the States.’
‘With his dad.’
‘His dad stayed here,’ Trick said.
Charlo' detected a finality.

Markus picked up the phone.
‘Lose the girl,’ said a gruff voice.
‘What? What are you saying, and how did you find me?’
‘Don't ask me questions I don't want to answer,’ Riot said. ‘You're busy in a completely wrong way. Get rid of the girl.’
‘I need her to watch my back. Did you have anything to do with those thugs who attacked me?’
‘So why do you say they attacked just you and not the girl as well? Lose her, you don't need her. And you shouldn't have gone all the way to Taiwan. There is nothing for you there.’
‘Remember who told me to do this for my sister? You did,’ Markus said.
‘I didn't tell you anything. I just gave you some of her belongings, because she wanted you to have them,’ Riot said.
Markus thought back to Riot's impromptu visit and to his sister's objects. Was he wrong about the Three Elders?
‘Do you mean the Three Elders were not the important object in there?’
‘I expected you to be smart enough to figure that out on your own, smart heart.’
‘Hold on. Did you just say smart heart?’ Markus said.
‘Remember, I worked with your sister, she told me what she called you, only I'm beginning to wonder why. As I said, lose the girl and get your act together,’ Riot said. ‘I'll find you for our next talk.’
He cut the connection, leaving Markus staring at a silent phone.

‘He's so predictable, it's beyond sick,’ Riot said to the woman standing behind him eating an apple.
‘Do you think he will get rid of her?’ she asked.
‘Charlo' is not the kind of woman you get rid of after a phone call, I know her too well for that.’

‘You need to return home,’ Markus said as he sat down next to Charlo' and took a pair of chopsticks Trick handed him.
‘Do you really know what you're doing? Running all the way here, dragging me along? You get me shot at by a bunch of roughnecks and now you send me away like I'm a piece of dirt?’
Markus put the chopsticks down.
‘I feel it will be safer for you if you're not with me.’
‘Who was that talking to you?’
‘His name is Riot. He's the man who gave me my sister's belongings after her death.’
‘How do you know he's not her killer?’
‘He's a colleague of hers. If he had killed her, would he have bothered to show me his face and give me her things? Is that your logic?’
Charlo' gave him a look that killed while Trick concentrated on his moaji.
‘I am doing for my sister now what I couldn't when she was alive.’
‘You killed her murderer. What more can you do?’
‘My sister gave me those things. They're a message from the grave, she wants me to do this.’
‘This creep, Riot you call him, how do you know he’s not fooling you?’
‘I know those objects were in my sister's possession, he didn't fool me, they were hers.’
She grabbed another moaji ball.
‘You're not getting rid of me this easily.’
Silence fell as the three digested the moaji.
‘We need to go to Macau,’ Markus said as Trick nodded in agreement.

NEXT: Markus Bentley and Charlo' head for Macau in Episode Seventeen before March 3.

Season One, Episode Fifteen: The Second Elder

Markus and Charlo' had to press themselves against the parked motorcycles as a small blue van squirmed through the alley.
‘What is it with your father?’ Charlo' asked.
A loud bang went off above their heads, on the second floor of the place they were passing. Charlo' ducked, but Markus stayed composed.
‘What the hell was that?’
‘Someone changing a gas bottle,’ Markus said.
The black BMW closed in but did not pass them.
‘Your father?’ she asked again.
Markus looked behind them.
‘What is it?’
‘The new BMW 5. No, let's go, now.’
He grabbed hold of her right arm and pulled her along, running out of the alley. Behind them, the doors of the car opened and three men in black shirts and dyed hair stepped out and ran after them.
One of the men produced a Beretta.
At the end of the alley, Markus turned left, dragging Charlo' with him. They heard the men shout. When they rounded the corner, a shot went off and planted itself in the rear window of the SUV they were just running by.
‘We'll never keep this up,’ Charlo' hissed as they scrambled into the next side alley, past parked motorcycles and a stand selling smelly stuff.
‘We have to,’ Markus hissed back.
Another bullet whizzed past their heads to end up lost somewhere with a clang.
An elderly man on a motorcycle ran into them as they veered left and the cyclist went right. The three pursuers appeared again, and this time the bullet missed Markus Bentley's left arm by an inch.
The next crossroads was easy to take. A noisy bustling street market on the right. Stands selling exotic foods in the center of the road, shoes and T-shirts spread out on plastic sheets on the sides. Markus pulled Charlo' over and together they dived into the crowd, jostling some of the onlookers and sightseers, but that was alright, they didn't seem to mind.
‘Keep your head low,’ he told her.
They kept bumping into people, but there was a system to it. The Taiwanese saw these two crazed foreigners come at them, they just gave way. Once that happened too late, when Charlo’ crashed into a young woman eating a squid on a stick, but she mumbled an apology as Markus pulled her away.
Once he felt they had created some distance, Markus dove into a dark gap between two shoe stores and ran hunched toward a metal box at the end. He crouched behind the box and told Charlo' to do the same.
They watched as almost a minute later, one of the pursuers in black passed by without looking at them. The two others followed just seconds behind, each on a different side of the road, no gun in sight.
Markus waited another five seconds, tapped his companion's shoulder, and off they went, further into the darkness until they reached another non-descript alley, the same motorcycles parked everywhere. Markus made sure there was no dark BMW looming around before he chose the direction.
‘Who were they?’ Charlo' asked.
‘I don't know, but I sure didn't want to wait for them to introduce themselves.’
‘Do you think Lassiter sent them?’
‘It's not important what I think. All I know is, we cannot go back to the Brother Hotel.’
‘Where are we heading then?’
Markus signaled her to keep silent. They reached the main road and hailed a cab, a yellow one like all the others. The cabbie didn't understand English but Markus knew the address in Chinese, or that's what Charlo' assumed anyway.
‘Are we going to look up the second elder?’ she asked as the car passed the last subway station and went uphill out of the urban jungle and into the green.
‘We're going to visit an old friend of mine.’
‘Is he as trustworthy as the last one?’
‘Stop questioning me. You get a free trip to Taiwan and all you do is moan.’
‘I didn't ask for this trip, remember. If I stay away too long, my job will be gone.’
The car turned into a dark tree-lined alley, where the houses stood away from the road, hidden from view behind walls topped with shards of glass. Markus waited until the cab had vanished from their sight before moving away. They had alighted in front of the third doorway in the alley, but Markus now crossed the road and marched deeper away from the main road.
‘What if there's nobody home?’ Charlo' asked.
‘We'll either have to scale the wall or spend the night in the bushes.’
‘You must be kidding. Aren't you? Are you?’
Markus checked the number on the next door. A shiny metal door set in a long wall which had once been white but now only showed off the humidity of the environment in black streaks all over.
There was a bell, no name. Markus rang, counted to six, and rang again.
‘Nobody home,’ Charlo' said.
Just when even Markus began to believe that, a light went on above the doorway.
A buzz and a click, and a youngish Taiwanese man with a crew cut stood grinning at them.
‘Hi, Trick,’ Markus said.
They didn't shake hands, but the Taiwanese man signaled them inside. Markus introduced Charlo' as a friend, and Trick gave her the same grin and the same silent welcome.
The trio walked across a dark grass lawn to reach a house that looked like something out of a fifties movie.
Inside, Charlo' had expected to find Chinese furniture and antiques, but instead all she saw were shag carpets, leather couches and garish plastic chairs, black-and-white pictures of Paris and London on the walls.
Trick offered them hot bitter tea in small green enamel cups.
Markus was the first to speak.
‘I want to show you this,’ he said as he produced the three elders out of his bag.
‘So you still hold on to the past,’ Trick said. ‘The furniture in this house is fifties, sixties, and seventies, but I'm a 21st century man. You should try it sometime, it feels a lot better.’
That was the longest time Trick had been speaking since they entered the house, Charlo' thought.
‘What else can I do for you?’ Trick asked.
‘Our hotel reservation has been canceled,’ Markus said, without irony.
‘My house is your house.’
He filled up their tea cups. A phone rang in an adjacent room, with a loud metallic sound like a dial model from decades ago. Trick walked off.
When he returned, the smile had vanished.
‘Someone in the States named Riot wants to have a word with you about your sister,’ Trick said.

NEXT: Markus Bentley talks to Riot in Episode Sixteen before February 23.

Season One, Episode Fourteen: The First Elder

Charlo' returned to their room at the Brother Hotel at 9 p.m. She found Markus changing, preparing to go out.
‘How was Taipei 101?’
‘Awesome. The tallest building in the world. The mall was too expensive for me though. I thought everything in Taiwan was cheap.’
He let that one go.
‘There is one in Dubai that's taller. It's called the Burj Dubai, 160 floors high. But since it's not completed yet, this one is still officially the tallest one.’
‘I see you've done your research. Anything else while I was away?’
She picked up the book from the sofa. American Gods by Neil Gaiman.
‘So are you going somewhere?’ she asked as he was rifling through his bag. ‘Without me?’
He picked out the statuette of the three Chinese men, the thing he called the Three Elders.
‘We're going somewhere, so get ready,’ he said.
‘I only just got back. Can't I get some rest for a change.’
‘Later. We've got an appointment.’

Markus marched around the Renai Circle, looking into a side alley for a pub he used to know, but it was no longer around. Fancy French bakeries and Japanese design stores were the new standards around here. The circle was a major traffic intersection on Taipei's tony east side. Charlo' walked behind him, as if they were on separate trips. She had had no time to change, so she felt sweaty and self-conscious in her pink T-shirt and jeans. She wasn't dressed for an important visit, but maybe the target of their visit wouldn't mind.
Markus kept looking left and right, as if lost. Asian cities changed much faster than American ones, and Markus Bentley had been away from Taiwan for at least five years. He looked foolish, but then Charlo' couldn't know.
He stepped into an alley where local couples were leaving a restaurant through a garish red gate. Charlo' didn't read Chinese characters, and she wondered whether Markus could.
He turned right, she followed. He turned left, she followed. Several times, she had to press herself against parked motorcycles as some black limousine worked its way through the narrow alleys built for, well, motorcycles.
It was 10 o'clock sharp when she saw Markus stop outside the doorway to a five-floor apartment building and press the bell. She couldn't hear what he was saying, but she slowed down, as he had told her to. The buzzer rang, he went in, and turned around, motioning at her.
‘I'm in?’ she asked.
‘You're in. But don't say too much. Don't say anything about what we did back home together.’
A concierge in the marble and gilt lobby gave them a magnetic card that allowed them to take the elevator up to the fourth.
The welcome was warm. A bulky man in a Hawaiian shirt, about sixty, long gray hair and a beard covering his smile. He embraced Markus in the doorway and then let them in.
‘I am Lassiter, so you can call me Lass,’ he told Charlo' as he shook her hand.
The apartment had bright white walls, but dark wooden furniture, most of it Chinese, giving the place the appearance of an antiques store. Lassiter signaled them to sit down on a cream leather couch, while he disappeared out of view for a minute before coming back with three bowls filled with a dark brew.
‘Red bean soup, the best sweet in the world. Watch it, it's hot,’ he told Charlo' with a smile.
The conversation was thin, the brew wasn't. Lassiter and Bentley obviously were aficionados, Charlo' was the newcomer to Chinese food, the odd one out.
‘We have something in common,’ Markus said when the two men were reaching the bottom of their bowls.
He pulled the statuette out of his bag and put it in the middle of the table. Lassiter stared at it with an expressionless face and turned back into an adjacent room. He returned with what looked like a precise copy of the same Three Elders.
‘Where did you get yours from?’ Lass asked.
‘My sister gave it to me before she died.’
Lass looked taken aback but didn't say a word.
‘Your sister died, my condolences,’ he said, as an afterthought. ‘Who told you?’
‘A man came to my house one morning with a laptop showing what happened.’
‘You mean like on YouTube? What did he look like? Who was he?’
Markus gave the story of the man in the car who deposited the computer at his place, and continued with the visit later that morning.
‘He was really messed up. Blood all over, falling, moaning. He called himself Riot. Never seen him since.’
Lassiter didn't register any reaction.
‘So you think I can help you?’
‘My sister had this guy bring me the Three Elders. That must have been her way of telling me the solution lies here,’ Markus said.
‘Did this Riot guy pass on anything else?’
‘Nothing significant,’ Markus said.
‘Where are you staying? Just in case I can reach you with new information.’
‘At the Brother Hotel,’ Charlo' cut in, just too hastily. Bentley shot her a look of why don't you shut up you were doing so well.
Lassiter refilled their red bean soup. The conversation turned to memories of old Taipei from there on. Charlo' was fascinated.
‘The man looks like the pilot from Lost,’ she told Bentley after they had left the building.
Markus pulled out the Three Elders and pointed at the one wearing yellow.
‘That's Lassiter?’
‘That's Lass.’
‘Where are the others?’
‘We need to find one more,’ Markus said.
A dark BMW turned into the alley, careful not to scrape against the parked motorcycles.
‘What about the third one?’ Charlo' asked.
‘He's my father.’

NEXT: Markus Bentley looks for the second elder in Taiwan in Season One, Episode Fifteen before February 13.

Season One, Episode Thirteen: Taipei 101

‘What's that building there?’ Charlo' asked.
‘Taipei 101. The tallest building in the world.’
‘What's the view like?’
‘I don't know. The last time I was here, they were still building it. Some cranes fell off it during an earthquake. People got killed. It was Easter, I remember. I was in church.’
‘You don't strike me as the religious type.’
‘I must be getting old.’
‘Are you going to take me up there?’
‘Unlikely. Remember our deal. I only go out at night, you take care of the rest, you can go out as much as you like, day or night, unless I need you,’ Markus Bentley said.
They were staying at a Brother Hotel on the eastside of Taipei. Just like home. They had sat separately on the 12-hour flight. Wandered separately around Osaka Airport during the stopover. Gone separately through customs, but sat on the same bus into town. He had told her beforehand what to ask for.
The cab ride from the bus stop to the hotel had been quite an eye opener for her. She had never seen swarms of motorcycles fighting it out with yellow cabs and buses for the space closest to the traffic light.
‘That's funny,’ she had said of the green numbers counting down the seconds left to the red light for the pedestrians.
Charlo' had picked up some brochures at the airport, so she now had a vague idea of where to spend her days.
‘Are you going to creep out while I'm sightseeing?’ she asked, her back turned toward him as she contemplated Taipei 101.
‘Not a chance. I don't want to bump into someone I know.’
‘You must be a charmer, so many enemies in so many places.’
‘I need to stay in during the day. That's why you're with me. To represent me outdoors during daylight hours. We're fortunate things get dark early round here, at five o'clock,’ Markus said.
‘Anything else? Do you need me to do your laundry as well?’
He motioned her to go out.
She pursed her lips and looked away.
‘Sorry, I didn't mean it like that,’ he said as she passed by. Out she went.
He waited another twenty minutes before putting aside the Cormac McCarthy novel he had brought.
‘Am I going to be safe coming to your place?’ he asked on the cell phone he had picked up on the way into the hotel.
‘You know you'll always be welcome, as the son of your father,’ a gruff man's voice said on the other end.’
‘Would 9 o'clock be alright, in that spirit?’ Markus asked as he was wandering around his room.
‘Any time, any spirit,’ the man said.
Markus went to fetch his bag and produced the statuette of the three elders.
‘So here you are,’ he told the inanimate object.

Charlo' was strolling past the much too expensive fashion houses inside the mall at the foot of Taipei 101. She wasn't really focusing on the French and Italian brand names, but was juggling a green tea doughnut with a Blackberry. It worked in Taiwan, she was happy to find out.
‘Can you guess where I'm calling from?’
She didn't wait for the reply.
‘From Taiwan. He took me here, he's paying for everything, so he really trusts me.’
She stopped at Prada.
‘What do you mean I shouldn't be taking any measures against him? Of course, not, I'm just following him. I'm just worried he'll do something behind my back, but I can't stay with him all day long without him getting suspicious.’
A crumb fell from the doughnut on to the polished marble floor. She felt guilty not picking it up.
‘He says he's doing it for his sister. We'll see whether he ends up where we think he will,’ Charlo' said.
She giggled.
‘I'd better go up Taipei 101 because he will quiz me about the view. He's like that.’

NEXT: Markus Bentley meets the first elder in Taiwan in Season One, Episode Fourteen before February 3.

Season One, Episode Twelve: Made in Taiwan

Charlo' had parked her car on the top of a multistory parking lot in the financial district. Markus had put a cheap pair of dark jeans over his swimming trunks. He was leaning against the hood of her car, Charlo' standing next to him, her hands in the pockets of her jeans.
The sun was softer than usual, even if Markus was sweating.
‘Do you need a maid to do your dirty work in Taiwan just like you wanted me to here?’
‘It's not like that. I just need someone to watch my back.’
‘Nice. Who's paying for all of this, for the tickets, the hotel?’
He offered her a piece of marzipan.
‘I've got enough money for both of us. Taiwan isn't that expensive.’
‘How long are you planning to stay? Remember the shooting range. I've got a job here. If I don't show up in a week's time, they'll find some other good-looking chick like me.’
‘No, they won't. Two weeks is all I need. If after one week, you don't like what you see, you can come back. I won't hold you back,’ Markus said.
‘Isn't it going to be as dangerous as our dip into the pool?’
‘Admit it, you had some fun.’
‘Fun being used as a shield while you shoot people and dive into a pool? No thanks, I don't call that fun.’
Markus Bentley bit off a piece of marzipan.
‘Whom are you going to kill in Taiwan?’ she asked.
‘Nobody if I can avoid it,’ he said, looking down at the car's front bumper.
‘You did I don't know what to that guard in his home, you killed a whole battalion by the pool, and now you're off to kill people overseas. How many people killed your sister?’
Markus wiped the sweat off his face with the sleeve of his T-shirt.
‘The man in the hotel told me where to go and how to find what I'm looking for.’
‘The man you killed after he gave you the gun?’
‘I didn't kill him. The people in the helicopter did.’
‘Explain one thing to me. With all the carnage that's been going on around you, how come the police still haven't found you?’
Markus shrugged.
‘They don't know me, I'm not on their radar.’
‘What about your sister's funeral?’
He sighed.
‘It's too dangerous for me now. Her friends and colleagues will take care of that.’
They remained silent for a few seconds.
‘One more practical thing, Markus. Your sister was killed, you killed her killer. What does that make you? A fugitive from the law at best, a murderer at worst. How do you think you're going to get through customs onto your flight to Taiwan?’
‘If you're afraid, we'll travel separately. We'll have seats together, but we'll check in as if we're strangers, if that's what bothering you.’
Now it was her turn to sigh.
‘What's bothering me is that you expect a woman you're not familiar with to travel with you half the way around the world on what might be another murderous outing. I don't want to be sitting on your lap when they fire up the electric chair.’
‘I need a smart woman to babysit me.’
‘Filthy sexist pig.’
‘Now we're talking.’
They both bended double laughing.
‘What is there to see in Taiwan?’ she asked.
He turned away from her and delved into his bag on the back seat of the car. Out he came with the Chinese statuette of the three old men.
‘Charlo', meet the Three Elders.’
‘So this is your way of telling me we are going to Taiwan because of some cheap souvenirs?’

NEXT: Markus Bentley and Charlo' arrive in Taiwan in Season One, Episode Thirteen before January 22.

Season One, Episode Eleven: Goodbye Speedokiniland

‘Look, professor, I want you to see something down there that's more fun watching than your water.’
Camry was standing inside the window in room 615. Wearing a suit, tugging at the shirt collar. The professor was a thirtyish sandy-haired man wearing a white lab coat. He came out of the bathroom looking miffed.
Camry waved outside.
‘Down there, by the pool.’
The professor looked taken aback, but Camry grinned.
‘The guy down there, with his brain splattered all over the lounge chair, is Moskvitch. A nasty bugger if there ever was one, professor.’
Camry's smile faded to threat mode.

A man fired a handgun at the surface of the pool, kicked a woman out of the way, nearly tripped over one of his own dead colleagues.
Under water, Markus Bentley held Charlo' tighter as he saw a bullet pierce its way to the bottom of the pool. He shot another thug swimming toward him like a shark approaching its prey.
Charlo' surfaced first, looking right into the bodyguard's gun barrel. She screamed. Bentley was next, his hand with the Glock in front of him, firing. The man fired back, but missed.
‘Run out of here, but not with me,’ Bentley shouted at Charlo' as they climbed out of the pool, which was gradually coloring red with the blood of the dead swimmer.
Bentley didn't look back but ran away between the palms. On bare feet, the Glock and his swimming trunks his only possessions.
He tripped over a root. Landed with his face in the grass. Looked around him. The barman from the pool was behind him. Bentley could outrun him, so he wouldn’t have to kill anybody anymore.
He was approaching the front of the hotel. He came round the corner, saw the valet handling the car keys.

‘So there they go. Another exciting day at the Brother Hotel, don't you think, professor?’
The professor mumbled something and returned to the bathroom, while Camry picked a brandy from the refrigerator.
‘Seeing blood and water makes me thirsty,’ he said to no one in particular.

Markus rammed the valet and grabbed a set of keys at random. They showed the blue and white squares of the Bavarian flag. He ran around the parking lot pushing the remote. The lights flashed. On an X7X, a heavy dark SUV. Behind him, the barman also picked up some keys from the pavement.
Bentley screeched out of the parking lot, into the two-lane street in front of the hotel. Heading north like he'd planned.
As he was passing the intersection, he saw the car behind him. A Chevrolet Ganache. The women's version of the Corvette. Low, sexy, red, convertible. Top down, a good target if he wanted to have a go at his pursuer. The barman.
Markus felt silly driving a heavy vehicle wearing nothing but a pair of downsized swimming trunks, but hey, this situation was out of the ordinary. The barman wasn't exactly dressed for a hot pursuit either.
Bentley saw the guy swerving to the left and coming past him as they careened across an intersection. Bad idea. Bentley went left himself, hitting the sports car. The barman slowed down but stuck close.
Markus looked at the Glock on his dashboard, but thought it would be a bad idea to handle it while driving. Don't Glock and drive.
Instead, he tensed and watched the road ahead. There it was, the pedestrian crossing from the hotel zone to the beach.
Just as the lights turned red, he braked, turned the car left and went right on to the beachfront walk amid screams from the tourists. The barman was still chasing him.
Bentley turned on his headlights and honked like it was snowing in hell. The tourists dispersed alright, but not all of them as fast as he had expected. Scared parents pulled their kids into the sand, skaters went right into the boardwalk café and rammed the waiters, sending the hamburger and pizza plates shattering around.
Markus suddenly braked, forcing his pursuer into a maze of fruit stalls, paintings, fitness equipment and musical instruments left behind by buskers on the run.
The stuff was flying around, but Bentley wasn't watching, he was hurrying to get some distance between the barman in the red convertible and him.
The next pedestrian crossing over the main road was coming up. Markus picked up speed and saw the surprise on the face of the truck driver who was going parallel with him on the main road.
Bentley honked at the family ready to cross the beach path. They moved into the sand, good for them. He pulled the SUV to the right, left the path with just inches left, saw a bus coming but drove across the road to put himself short in front of the truck.
The barman followed him but he wasn't fast enough. The truck smashed him in the side. He careened back across the road and hit the bus. The red convertible was propelled onto the beach, but the barman was already flying through the air with the life out of him. Not wearing seat belts in a convertible. Bad idea.
Markus saw the wreckage in his rearview mirror. He would do anything to avenge his sister. Even shoot a thug like Moskvitch in a crowded swimming pool. Camry was right about that. But now he had to do things for himself.
‘Charlo', are you safe?’
‘As safe as things go.’
‘Are you still with me on Taiwan?’

NEXT: Markus Bentley recovers from the kill in Season One, Episode Twelve before January 12.

Season One, Episode Ten: The Kill

‘Taiwan? Why would you want me to go there?’
Markus and Charlo' were sitting on a bench in the oceanside park.
‘Forget it, it's just something that guy said.’
‘That guy you killed at the hotel?’
‘I didn't kill him, remember? They shot him from a helicopter.’
‘From a helicopter? Are you serious?’
Markus nodded. He offered her a ball of marzipan before he dropped one in his mouth himself.
‘Why did you run away then? If the guy got shot from a helicopter, they'll know it wasn't you who did him,’ Charlo' said.
‘Still, I don't want to be around when someone gets shot. And I might have been the next one.’
‘Who are you?’ Charlo' asked in a lower tone of voice.
‘They killed my sister.’
Markus looked at the ground. She touched his arm.
‘I'm sorry to hear that. Who did it?’
‘Does the name Moskvitch mean anything to you?’
‘Sounds like Russian to me.’
‘I still don't understand all the details, but I know he's the one responsible for her death. I have to do something about it.’
‘Why don't you go to the police?’
Markus looked at the two male joggers passing by.
‘This is a problem the police cannot solve. Unless I do it myself, it will never get solved.’
Charlo' looked at the ground.
‘Can I call you Bent?’
‘I don't really like that, though you can call me anything you like.’
A panhandler was approaching, but Bentley's stare made sure he changed his itinerary.
‘Do you have any reason why you would to return to the Brother Hotel?’ he asked.
‘I've got friends who go there for the weekly Wednesday brunch and hang around the pool and the beach and the bar, anywhere young people hang.’
Markus nodded.
‘Wednesday. That's tomorrow.’
‘What are you planning?’ she asked.
‘I want to avenge my sister,’ he said.

Markus Bentley left his clothes in the car two miles away, at a safe distance from today's event, so it wouldn't be located as a suspect vehicle once the deed was done. He was only wearing tiny swimming trunks and carrying a towel and a bottle of suntan lotion. He walked over along the beach, lied down on the towel for half an hour. When he left without picking up the lotion, a gray-haired man with a straw hat shouted after him to complain. Markus pulled up his shoulders and picked up the plastic bottle only to deposit it further on a low wall between the path to the pool and the palm trees.
He wound his way through the palm trees. The deep house music told him which direction the pool was in. The mood was very different from his previous visit.
Bentley saw the young women on the left of the pool, but pretended not to notice. He let his eyes drift to the company across the water, on the right, a bunch of dark tan men with women swooning around them. Two retired couples at the far end of the pool, obviously trying to stay away as far as possible from the deep house drifting out of the pool bar, on his right before he hit the pool. Always put the pool bar at the front, so you get first choice of the arriving customers. Two middle-aged men were waiting for their orders right now.
Markus stuck to the left edge of the pool and the obviously predictable happened.
‘Hi, Bent,’ Charlo' called out from the bunch of young women.
‘Ola, chica.’
He wished she had remembered not to mention names. With a bit of luck, the sound of his name was drowned out by the house music and nobody would remember after the panic.
‘Bent.’
There, she did it again. He wanted to show off that little finger as a friendly warning, but he was worried he would drop that thing he was holding under the towel.
Bentley crouched next to the three young ladies and one young man in the group. He nodded vigorously at the end of a question. One of the women started talking. Bentley smiled at her and looked at the pool bar. One customer was staying on, the other one was wading across to this side. Not good. Bentley smiled back at the speaker and looked again. The guy with the pinacolada or whatever was sticking to the side of the pool like a jellyfish. Not good.
‘Bent, do you think they'll make a good couple?’
Charlo' was pointing at the young dude and the brunette sitting on his chair. Bentley nodded.
‘You're beautiful people. Sure.’
A brutally loud laugh resounded from behind them, from the other side of the pool. A perfect excuse for Bentley to turn his body half around and look at the source of the commotion.
The guy with the dark mustache and the gold-framed shades was having the time of his life, slapping the bikini babes and the shady guys crowded around him like shoppers around a market stall. Moskvitch. He was recognizable from the picture the Chinese man had given him in room 714.
Bentley counted three bodyguards around the man. One guy swimming down there in the pool could also be a member of their entourage. But Markus had no time to wait. Moskvitch was fondling one of his lady friends, gross.
Bentley turned to Charlo'.
‘Too bad but this is where my vacation ends, now I have to start working.’
He took hold of her, gently but convincingly. As he turned her around to face the opposite side of the pool, the towel slipped out of his hands. To reveal the Glock he had been holding awkwardly underneath.
The young people in his group screamed as they saw what he was doing. But he had no time for them.
He raised his arms around Charlo', pointing the gun straight at Moskvitch across the water. Fired as he stood still for a long second. Then pushed her forward. Fired some more as he saw the bodyguards around Moskvitch reach for the towels on their chairs. Where they had been hiding their own firepower.
Bentley pushed Charlo' forward as he kept firing at the men. Only the men, not the women, please. Those men treated them as decoration, so he didn't want to harm them. Around the pool, pinacoladas and other pseudotropical juice clattered against the ground.
Bentley held on to Charlo' while they jumped into the pool, still firing at Moskvitch and his men.

NEXT: Markus Bentley finishes off the kill in Season One, Episode Eleven before January 2, 2009

Season One, Episode Nine: Room 714

The Chinese man picked up his chopsticks and brought a white dumpling to his mouth without his eyes leaving Bentley's face.
‘Is that what he told you? That I would have a name for you?’ the man said in fluent English, without any trace of an Asian accent.
Markus nodded.
‘I have a lot more than that.’
‘What's your name?’
‘Didn't he tell you you're not supposed to ask that? You can call me Cadillac, for all I care. But I wouldn't drive any of the bleeding wrecks.’
He drank a cup of green tea.
Markus noticed the table had several plates on it. One with half a dozen of dumplings and soy sauce, one with a tuna sandwich and two with pieces of fruit. Pineapple, apple, watermelon. Fresh and symmetrical.
He walked over to the table.
‘Can I get some of your fruit?’ Markus asked.
‘Cadillac,’ as he called himself, shrugged his shoulders. ‘Do whatever you please.’
Markus used a toothpick to stab at a piece of pineapple. There were two cups of green tea.
‘Were you expecting me?’ Markus asked.
‘Cadillac’ looked out the window, at the beach.
‘Do you own a gun?’
‘You have one for me?’ asked Markus.
The Chinese man looked around before stepping to a corner chair below which a thick envelope was lying.
‘Everything you need to know is in here,’ he said while handing him the envelope.
It felt really heavy, but Markus didn't want to look inside in this man's presence.
‘Cadillac’ kept his eyes darting around, making him feel uncomfortable.

Riot left room 725 and walked toward the elevator, away from room 714. He went down to the underground car park and walked around looking for the vehicle. He drew a deep breath when he saw the dark BMW X7X.
‘I'm glad you made it out on time,’ he said to the woman behind the wheel.

‘Do you have the three elders?’ the Chinese man asked.
‘My sister gave them to me.’
‘You know the answer is in Taiwan,’ the man said.
‘But what is the question?’ Markus asked.
‘Cadillac’ paced near the window.
Markus recognized the noise, the vibration of the windows.
A helicopter flew past the hotel, doors sliding open. A man in a jumpsuit and goggles appeared, aiming a machinegun. At room 714.
Markus didn't remember who was the first to shout ‘Down,’ but the glass was already flying. He clutched the envelope and ran off into the hallway. The elevator was ten floors below. Markus rushed for the emergency exit, running down the stairway like there was a monster on his heels.
It took him a while to realize the sound was his cell ringing.
‘I'll meet you at the shopping mall downstairs,’ he told Charlo'.
‘Fine. There's a reception desk with some kind of silver Christmas tree on. I'll be waiting,’ she said.
He wiped the sweat off his face just before pushing open the door to the underground mall. He didn't want to look too flustered, just in case.
He found the silver tree but she was nowhere in sight. The tap on his shoulder made him jump. The envelope fell to the floor with a heavy thump.
‘What's wrong with you?’ Charlo’ asked.
‘I met a contact up there and he got himself killed.’
‘You killed him?’
‘No, of course not, but they might think I did, so we need to get out of here yesterday.’
He pulled her away by the arm.
‘Let's find your car, Charlo'. Are you up for a trip to Taiwan?’

NEXT: Markus Bentley goes for the kill in Episode Ten before December 25.