Bangkok Haunts

However, he masters himself, bows his head, stands, and all of a sudden we are on our feet at the door. Tanakan calls us back for a moment, however. He reaches into his drawer to take something out and chuck it across his desk at Vikorn. It is an elephant-hair bracelet. “It came with that abominable picture,” he snaps, then turns his back to look out of the window.
    In back of the car on the way to the station, Vikorn delivers one of his homilies:
    “You see what happens when the work of professionals is screwed up by amateurs? Tanakan knew he’d been caught with his knickers around his ankles and was ready to cough up like a pro so long as the negotiations were courteous, discreet, and professional and the price was reasonable. Now some barbaric clown has poisoned the well. I want you to find him and give me the address. You don’t have to be there when the men make the visit, understand?”
    He raises haggard eyes. I gulp and nod.
     
    Back at my desk, the cell phone rings.
    “You watched the video?”
    “Yes.”
    “So now you know what to do.”
    “What are you talking about?”
    “You can adjust the technique according to the personality of the subject. Kowlovski was very stupid. I think your subjects will be more fun.”
    I’m not sure I’m really understanding. If I am, I don’t want to. “What subjects?”
    “The ones I have identified with the bracelets.”
    My jaw drops. “How can I interrogate them? One is a senior banker, one is an eminent lawyer, the other is a bum, and all of them have perfect alibis.”
    “No, they don’t.”
    “But they weren’t even in the country.
They weren’t even in the same country as one another.
One was in the U.S., one was in Angkor Wat, and the other was in Malaysia.”
    “Isn’t that a coincidence?”
    “Well, it may look suspect, but it does prove that none of them were directly involved in the”—I grope for the right word—“killing.”
    “My sister said there were meetings. You know, as in major shareholders.”
    “How did she know?”
    “She was one of them.”
    The revelation causes quite a jolt. “She attended business meetings at which her body and her death were the proposed profit center? I’m going to need evidence.”
    “Confessions are always the best evidence. Is that not so?”
    “You can’t get confessions like that out of free men.”
    “Free men? I’m working on it.” He closes the phone.
     
    With cynical intent to deceive I call Vikorn directly on his cell phone. “I’ve been looking into it. I’m going to raid Baker and Smith. I think one of them must be behind this elephant crap.”
    “Why bother with a raid? I’ll send a motorbike.”
    “No, Colonel, I’m not sure it’s one of them. I’m just sure I can find out something from them.”
    “Have it your way. But I want the one who sent that photograph strung up by the balls and presented to Tanakan in a nice neat velvet package.”
    “I know.”
    “I think our banker might prefer a living body he can have some fun with.”
    “Yes, I guess so.”

    I balance my chair on its back legs, put my feet on my desk, and make a cathedral of my hands. It never works, but it does make me feel like Philip Marlowe. I am frowning. The same three suspects: Dan Baker, Tom Smith, Khun Tanakan. But suspected of what, exactly? I am not even sure if Damrong’s contract was illegal in Thailand. I am not even sure there was a contract. Perhaps no crime was committed at all, beyond manslaughter by Kowlovski? It was a crime against the heart, though—a crime against humanity, you might say—which led to others: Nok, whose butchered innocence rests heavy on my heart; the otherworldly Pi-Oon and his flamboyant lover. This surely is the monk’s message. I agree, but who to scare first, Baker or Smith? Tanakan will have to be left alone for the time being since he’s under Vikorn’s protection; I’m not at all sure how to finesse that. I guess even Marlowe didn’t get himself into these kinds of jams.
    On the face of it, Baker would be the obvious first choice. A weak character, accustomed to doing deals with cops, probably incapable of loyalty. I have more or less decided on him, then change my mind. The trouble with Baker is that he doesn’t fit and has started to puzzle me. Instead of Chinese boxes, in this case we have Chinese pyramids, all fitting one inside the other. Tanakan and Tom Smith are part of an elite Great Pyramid of international players. Smith is near