Some men, presumably foremen, slowly walked around while staring at the workers.

“What do they do?” asked Jack, pointing to one of the foremen.

“Make sure everyone work hard,” said Duwa. “Workers get lazy, then no get paid for day they lazy.”

“How many hours do they work?” asked Jack.

“Sixteen hours a day, unless we are busy and they work more,” said Duwa.

“Unless you are busy?” asked Stew, sounding incredulous.

Duwal pointed to several empty workstations where stools sat empty. “You can see, maybe one out of four empty. Bad economy. Very bad. I have much room to grow big. You invest and I hire more people.”

“How much are these people paid?” asked Jack.

“I pay good money. One dollar a day, except for what I charge for food and place to sleep.”

“The workers are fed here?” asked Jack.

“Yes, I feed them two times a day at work. Otherwise they get too tired and slow. I also have apartment building where they stay.”

“Do they get days off?” asked Stew.

“Days off? If they get sick … maybe one or two day okay and I no pay. Many people want to work. If they no want to work, no problem. I hire new people.”

“Their ages look to be from about sixteen to seventy,” said Jack. “Do you hire younger workers?”

“No. I know Westerners no like sweaty kid shop. People here happy to work.” Duwa yelled something out in Myanmarese and numerous workers paused, looked at Stew and Jack, then smiled and gave the two men a friendly wave.

“You see?” said Duwa. “Every bodies happy to work. We do good job. Cheap. More cheap than every ones. You invest in our company, you get number-one deal. Best in Myanmar.”

“Could we go upstairs?” asked Jack.

“Upstairs is same,” said Duwa. “No need to see.”

“I would like to see,” said Jack, “so I can get a visual idea of how big your operation is and how much room you have for expansion.”

Duwa shrugged and led Jack and Stew up to the top floor. It was basically the same as the one they had seen, with the exception that an office was located at the far end with glass windows looking out over the workers.

“My office,” said Duwa, when he saw Jack looking. “You happy with what you see? You go tell your boss you are happy?”

“I see potential,” said Jack, “but there would have to be some changes.”

“Changes?”

“To start with, wages may need to be improved,” muttered Stew.

“I pay them more money, then mean you have to pay more,” explained Duwa, in a tone of voice one might use to explain something simple to a child.

“Are you familiar with a concept known as fair trade?” asked Jack.

“Fair trade?”

“Didn’t think so. Basically a lot of people in richer countries don’t mind paying a little more, if they know that the people doing the hardest work are getting fairly paid.”

“The hardest work?”

“The people at the bottom … these people,” said Jack, with a wave of his hand toward the factory floor. “Being fair is what I am talking about.”

“I pay them fair. I always fair,” said Duwa, indignantly.

“It might be fair in Myanmar, but it would not be seen as fair in the countries where you hope to sell your clothes. You would sell more clothes if it was known that you were not the cheapest, but the most generous with your workers. People would feel good when they wear the clothes, knowing that they are helping other people who are less fortunate.”

“And they pay more to feel good?” said Duwal.

“Yes, that would be a major marketing tool and could also open up the wallets of people who would be willing to invest in your company.”

“How much more they pay?”

“Stew and I are here to see if there is potential and to see what changes would have to take place. Talks with other people may come later, providing you are open, honest, and willing to make some changes.”

“You can see that I am like that. You tell your boss, I good, yes?”

“We will tell him.”

Duwa looked pleased. “Okay, I buy you lunch before I take you back to hotel.”

Duwa treated Jack and Stew to lunch on the Thai side of the border in Mae Sai at an outdoor restaurant. It was a hot and humid day and when Jack sat he was careful that his sweat-soaked light cotton shirt did not reveal a wire leading to the microphone taped to his chest.

During lunch, Jack saw Randy standing in the sun on the opposite side of the street as he pretended to browse amongst some tourist stalls. Jack slowly raised his glass of cold beer in Randy’s direction and took a couple of slow sips. He hid his smile when Randy looked at him and pretended to rub his eye with his middle finger.

After lunch, Duwa waved to his driver who had been waiting patiently under an awning and told him to go get the car.

“Stew and I were saying earlier that we wanted to do a little shopping in Mae Sai before heading back,” said Jack, hoping that Duwa did not see the surprised look on Stew’s face.

“I can have my driver pick you up after and take you back,” offered Duwa.

“No, that is not a problem,” replied Jack. “I’m not sure how long we will be, but I don’t want to feel rushed, so we’ll take a taxi back to the hotel.”

Duwa nodded and they said their goodbyes moments later.

As soon as Duwa and his driver left, Stew said, “You want to go shopping?”

“No,” said Jack. “We’re going back to Duwa’s factory for a surprise visit.”

“What on earth for? What do you think we’ll see that we haven’t already?”

“Didn’t you notice all the empty stools in the place?” asked Jack.

“Yes, because of the economy. Twenty-five percent were empty.”

“Did you happen to notice that most of the stools where nobody sat were adjusted much higher than the others?”

“What do you mean? I don’t get what … children! You think —”

“Yes. I don’t think Mr. Duwa was being entirely honest with us.”

“That sneaky —”

“Let’s wait an hour and go back. In the event someone is watching us, we’ll shop for half an hour, then take a taxi out of town toward our hotel in Chiang Saen. Then we’ll double back to the border to get another taxi to take us to the factory.”

“If you are right, they might not appreciate us finding out,” Stew said apprehensively. “Maybe we should wait until tonight when the guy from corporate security arrives and come back with him.”

I’d rather take my chances with the Myanmarese, than corporate security …

“Some of the people in there looked like pretty rough individuals,” continued Stew.

The people I saw in the factory looked to be hard-working blue-collar types. I can handle them. The real murderers are wearing white collars …

“Well? Do you agree?” asked Stew.

Jack shrugged. “With flights these days, Pike could easily be delayed. Tomorrow you’re booked to go to China.

Stew didn’t reply, but bit his lower lip as he thought.

“It is getting late though,” noted Jack. “I also have to come back tomorrow to check out a jade factory. There’ll probably be time for me to slip across the border and do a surprise visit then.”

Stew’s mouth dropped open. “By yourself?” He shook his head. “Not a chance, buddy. We’ll do it together.” He gave Jack a friendly punch on the arm and added, “Don’t worry. I’ve been in some tough places in the world. I can handle these guys.”

“Been in a few scraps, have you?”

“Well … nothing physical … but I’ve travelled through some pretty poor countries. Places where you wouldn’t dare take your eyes off your luggage for fear someone would steal it. ”

“I see.”

Stew gave a reassuring nod. “Stick with me and you’ll be okay.”

“Thanks, Stew Pot. You’re a good guy.”

During the next half-hour, Jack and Stew browsed through some tourist shops. When Stew was at the far end of one store, Jack used the opportunity to stand near Tina and tell her what was going on.