Angkor Tears (The Angkor Series Book 2)

Book summary

In "Angkor Tears," journalist Dave Bell returns to Cambodia to investigate a chilling mystery: a nameless killer without a trace. With an unlikely team of allies, they delve into the shadows of Cambodia's haunting past, determined to unveil the truth and halt the relentless monster's deadly reign.

Excerpt from Angkor Tears

Leap stifled a cry of pain as a splinter caught the tender skin on the palm of her hand. She couldn’t give up now. The board behind the bed was almost all the way loose, and she was sure that if she just tried a little harder it would give her enough of a space to crawl out. She paused for a minute, sure she could hear movement in the room next door. That was where the woman who had brought her here slept, and if she caught her trying to escape, Leap knew she would be severely punished. Satisfied there were no further sounds she returned to her task. Suddenly the board gave way and Leap fell back onto the floor. How loud had that been? She gently pushed the bed back into position and jumped under the thin cover. Trying to slow her breathing down she listened for the tell-tale footsteps that would signal the woman coming to her room. The woman only ever came for one of three reasons: to beat Leap, to bring her some meagre food, or to prepare her for when the man visited. Leap hated the woman, but she hated the man far more.

Satisfied that the house was still silent and that no-one was coming, Leap again moved the bed and examined what her efforts had achieved. With the board removed there was now a space of about 24 inches by 10 inches, which she was pretty sure she’d be able to squeeze through. She took one last look around the bare room that had been her prison for the last 8 days. In some twisted parody of guardianship, or perhaps to further satisfy the dark desires of the man, the woman had decorated the otherwise stark space with colourful posters and soft toys. There were few clothes in the drawers, and what there was were things Leap would never choose to wear. So there was nothing she wanted to take with her, the only thing she wanted was to get out of this place.

Peering out through the gap she could see the flickering shadows in the alley behind the house. Pressing herself flat against the floor she began to edge her way through the hole, biting her lip against cries as the rough wood of the surrounding boards scraped against her young fragile body. Finally, she wriggled free from the gap and dropped free to the ground. She had no idea where she was. But she did know it was nowhere near her home in Andoung Trabaek Commune, close to the Vietnamese border. When the woman had given her mother the roll of money, Leap had no idea what was happening, and she was then placed in the back of a van and made to lie on the floor. They had stopped only once in hours of driving, on a deserted side road where the woman made Leap squat to do the toilet before resuming their journey. She had later heard the noise of heavy traffic and the bustle of people and she wondered if this meant she was in Phnom Penh, a place she had previously only heard of. Was that where she was? She had no idea what to do now that she had escaped, but even at nine years old she knew she had to get as far away as possible from the house where she had been kept.

The darkening skies told her it was early evening, so she knew the main roads would be busy. Should she run and find a policeman? But she remembered her brother saying that policemen were often corrupt and she worried they might take her back to the woman. And the man. The year before, in her small impoverished village, there had been some Europeans working with an NGO who had taught the children English and Maths. But the village elders had not liked barangs in the village. They didn’t trust the white-skinned strangers so had told them to leave. But Leap had liked the three women and a man who had seemed so patient and gentle. Maybe she should try and find some sort of NGO.

Barangs would help her, she was sure. Carefully making her way down the dirt track, she took one last look back at the simple wooden house that had been her cage and where her innocence had been ripped from her. When she reached the road the volume of traffic made her step back for a minute. This must be Phnom Penh. So big. So busy. So many people and vehicles. No-one seemed to notice another small frightened girl amongst all the chaos. The smell of food hit her nostrils as she scurried along the sidewalk and she realised she hadn’t eaten since the morning. She was tempted to try and grab something from one of the vendors and run but was too scared that if she was caught then the woman would find her again.

So on she ran, darting from doorway to doorway, occasionally investigating discarded food wrappers to see if there was something to eat. Then her attention was grabbed by a crowd of children across the street all dressed in uniform. A school! And schools often had barang teachers. If she could find one maybe she would be safe. And maybe she could get some food too. Darting across the lanes of fast-moving traffic, ignoring the horns from the drivers and the moto riders, she made her way to where the school was situated. The school was obviously just finishing for the day; crowds of young Khmer children were enthusiastically pouring out the doors and into mini-vans or onto parents’ motos. What happiness there seemed to be in their faces, and for a minute Leap shed a tear for the life she had left behind in the village.

Yes, they had been poor and did not have much to call their own, but there had always been something to eat, and when she wasn’t helping her parents in the fields, there had been games and laughing with the other children. But then her father had left; he had said he was going to work on a fishing boat in Thailand and that he would send money home. But the money had never arrived, and their father had never come home. Things had got worse then, there was little food to share with her brother and two sisters, and they often went hungry. Her mother had made them all work harder, but harder never seemed to be enough.

Then the man and woman had come to her village. They had wandered around for a while before the woman pointed at Leap and commented on how pretty she was. Her mother had called her into the house then and the adults had sat and talked for twenty minutes before the money was handed over. They told her she was going to be a housemaid, that the people the man and woman worked for had come from this province and wanted to give someone from there a chance. She would go to school, have new clothes, her own room, and would work in the house when she wasn’t at school. But when she’d arrived in the city, they had taken her to that horrible house. When Leap had cried for her mother, the woman beat her then locked her in the room. The next day a different man had come for the first time…then the nightmare began.