Colin Cotterill - Grandad, Thereэ's head on the beach

"It was me who kneed you in the bollocks this morning. I m-

"I remember. What do you want?"

"Shortly after you left, a man arrived to look at the Honda. He didn't say anything. He was short-haired and sour-looking, so I thought he was one of your men. He played around with the engine and somehow got it going. My father was impressed. Next thing you know, it was gone."

"Someone took the car?"

"It wasn't you?"

"No."

"Then my neighbor might have been right after all. She said she'd seen two women driving away from our resort in a silver car. That must have been the women you were looking for. I bet you they hired a mechanic. And that would also explain why I found a plastic bag hanging in the carport with a large sum of money in it. It more than covered what they owed. I should think they're-"

"What time was this?"

"Ooh, I don't know. About two?"

"And what direction were they headed?"

"South. Although they could easily have-" He hung up.

"Job done," said Mair, and took her son's hand. "It's nice to have you home."

"You're really something," said Sissi. "Thank you, child. At last my family's all together. My dream has come true."

Live Internet feed. 5 P.M. Gulf of Thailand (CAMERA-CLOSE-UP OF JIMM JUREE)

JIMM: I am reporting live to you from an unstable squid boat rocking perilously in the Gulf of Thailand. This is a live feed. English is not my native language, so please forgive my accent. We are heading out to deep water where at least seventeen Burmese are being held captive as slaves on three forty-meter fishing boats. The slaves are most likely being held at gunpoint. We have no idea how many guards there are or what weapons they're using. We are one small boat against three large ones. We are a crew of eight with only one handgun between us. Among our number are old men, an engaged couple, and a woman with a fear of water. None of us knows if we will make it back alive. We have no plan other than to find the ships and rescue the Burmese. And, yes, as I speak a fine rain has started to fall. (CAMERA-NOTEBOOK TIPS UP TOWARD THE GRAY SKY. A BLOB OF RAIN HITS THE LENS.) Are we in for another blustery-storm to make our venture even more difficult?

I am your reporter Jimm Juree and I intend to stay here talking to you online until the matter is resolved-one way or another. Will we save the lives of our abused neighbors, or will we be cut down in a hail of machine-gun fire? Only time and the intervention of Mazu, the Chinese goddess of the sea, will tell.

"She looks fat on this thing," said Mair. She was leaning over Sissi's shoulder as they watched the live feed.

"She is a bit overweight," said Sissi.

"But not fat, son. There isn't an ounce of fat on her. She's solid, I'll give you that. A good solid Chiang Mai girl. Look at her. She's so pretty. Wouldn't it be wonderful if someone saw her on this and took a liking to her? Do you think anyone's watching?"

"So far…two thousand seven hundred."

"Two thousand seven hundred what?"

"People…watching."

"No."

"I swear. Look at the counter. This is the number of real-time viewers."

"That's people?"

"Sure is."

"But how did they know? We've only just started."

"I've been putting up links all over. Advertising on Web sites. Facebook. Twitter. Next thing you know, it goes viral."

"That sounds unpleasant. So you think there might be more?"

"I'm sure of it."

"Oh. Then there's certain to be someone out there who likes her, isn't there?"

"A lot of weirdos on the Internet, Mair."

"Don't be cruel. She's a very attractive girl with a lovely personality and a good sense of humor. Perhaps you could just make her look a little slimmer?"

"Without the benefits of plastic surgery?"

"Look at all those buttons and dials. Surely you can do something with special effects?"

"I'll see what I can do."

Live Internet feed. 5:42 p.m. Gulf of Thailand

(CAMERA-CLOSE-UP OF JIMM JUREE)

JIMM: This is very exciting. We've just heard over the boat's communication system that Captain Kow, our man in pursuit of the kidnapped Burmese, has sighted their ferry and is holding back so as not to alert the skipper. He has given us his location and headings, and we have changed our own direction and are going at full speed to meet up with him. Our own captain estimates that we should intersect his path in just over an hour. This is an awfully long time in a boat with no roof or restrooms. But we are warmed by the knowledge that the chase is on.

As I have already introduced you to our brave crew, and as nobody else speaks English, I am debating how I can best-"

GAEW: (OFF SCREEN) I can.

CAMERA PANS AROUND TO THE CREW AND ZOOMS IN ON GAEW, HAND ALOFT. SMILING.

JIMM: (OFF SCREEN) You can speak English?

GAEW: All those international bodybuilding tournaments.

JIMM: Well, you get yourself over here. Viewers, this is a golden opportunity for your reporter, Jimm Juree, to hand over to a woman from this very region who knows the sea and the plight of the Burmese as well as anyone.

GAEW: Actually, we had a rice shop. I only got to go the beach on holidays.

JIMM: Then let's hear about the…plight of international bodybuilding. I'm sure our viewers need a break from me.

Actually, I was dying for a pee. There are only so many things a live-feed audience can stomach. Even the Big Brother people balked at having closed-circuit cameras in the bathrooms.

"Where's the toilet?" I asked Ed.

I knew there wasn't actually a room, but I suspected there had to be a protocol. A lot of wives came out to sea with their husbands. They'd seen it all before, of course, but they didn't have an audience of seven-one of whom was admiral pervert Bigman Beung himself. Ed explained. Here again, the wonders of the sarong came into play. I won't give you a blow by blow. It wasn't a pretty sight, but my modesty was intact and I had learned one more skill for my resume.

While Gaew spouted on about steroids and the cost of good body oil, I sat beside PI Meng the private eye, glad for a break from my live feed.

"Been busy?" I asked, ever keen to keep up with the local crime scene.

"Nah," he said.

I was hardly surprised.

"Nothing ongoing?"

"Well…"

"Come on. You can tell me. We'll all be dead by morning.

"That's true. Well, Ari hired me."

"The monkey-handler Ari?"

"When I say he hired me, what I mean is that he offered to give me a finder's fee if I could locate his macaque. But it's been gone since Tuesday, so I doubt we'll ever see that critter again."

"Right," I said. "Long gone, I expect. Across the border to Malaysia, I wouldn't doubt. It's like the southeast Asian version of Canada. They have a commune of escaped macaques down there, dodging the coconut draft, singing freedom from slavery folk tunes."

"Really?"

He didn't have any idea what I was talking about. Few did. I was just about to mingle some more when something occurred to me. I sat back down.

"When did you say the monkey went missing?" I asked.

"Tuesday," he said. "Someone just untied it from his truck and walked off with it."

"And you're sure it was Tuesday?"

"Certain."

I was confused, but it wasn't a priority matter. I skipped Bigman Beung and sat beside my brother.

"You all right, mate?"

"I'm starting to feel seasick," he said greenly.

"Focus on the horizon and imagine you live in that lighthouse over there."

"There isn't a lighthouse over there."

"I said imagine it."

"I thought you meant imagine living there."

"I did. See? You feel better now, don't you?"

"Yeah, a bit."

"You just needed your mind taken off the sea. Focus on cloud shapes. Focus on a distant light. Focus on Gaew. She's a lot prettier than the Gulf. You do know she's impressed with you? You planned this all very nicely."