Bangkok Haunts

it up high and threatening to smash it. Certainly Khun Tanakan would, in such circumstances, be entitled to take whatever measures necessary to protect his property.”
    “Yes?”
    “On the other hand, if Khun Tanakan’s measures were unfortunately to result in the untimely death of the girl…”
    A strange silence. “Death of the girl?”
    “I am afraid so, Khun Tanakan. I am profoundly sorry to be bringing such sad news at such a time. I think it would be insensitive of me to attempt to evaluate your exquisite vase at this moment. Another day, if Khun Tanakan will be gracious enough to spare the time?”
    Defeated: “Whenever the Colonel wishes. I am at your disposal.” A hesitation, then: “Is the Colonel aware that I was in Malaysia on business for the whole of last week?”
    “I was not aware of that, Khun Tanakan.”
    “Might that be a factor in reducing the value of the vase?”
    “It might, Khun Tanakan, it might. Clearly, the whole valuation needs mature consideration. Good afternoon, Khun Tanakan.”
    “Please, let me show you out.”
    As her boss opens the door, the secretary leans toward me to offer the most brazen come-on I’ve seen outside of the Game.
    In the back of the old patrol car, Vikorn says, “How did I do?”
    “Brilliant as usual. You saved his face with that vase thing. But he can say he never admitted anything.”
    “Sure, he could say that in court and bribe the judge to make sure he got away with it. But nobody would ever believe a word he says again, especially in the international banking community, and he loves being Mr. Big-in-Banking more than he loves life.”
    Vikorn and I look out of separate windows while thinking the same thought.
    “Was he convincing?”
    “About not knowing the girl was dead? Unclear—he’s so
luak yen,
anything he says is going to sound artificial. And he’s probably telling the truth about being in Malaysia last week. Anyway, what does it matter? The point was to show him there is more than an indiscretion for him to deal with—there’s a corpse as well. I’m selling absolution from a higher crime.” He passes a hand over his great wise head. “Tell you what, Sonchai. This case is getting to be one of your greatest gifts to me, and that was just so much fun with Tanakan. How about I give you
twenty-one
percent for charity?”
    “Fine.”
    “Oh, I forgot to ask. Have you been down to the river to see Yammy yet?”
    “Not yet. I’m still looking for Baker, remember?”
    Vikorn grunts. “Oh, I forgot to tell you. We found him.”
    “We did? That was quick.”
    My Colonel taps his forehead. “Some of us are still cops, Sonchai. I told Immigration to identify all those crossings to Cambodia that don’t yet have isometric software to check mug shots. There are only five, and only one of those is commonly known to
farang
crooks. So I told the boys over there it was worth a hundred thousand baht.” His smile is the embodiment of wisdom and compassion. “Motivation is everything in human resources. I had to let them soften him up a bit, as part of the bribe. He should be pretty compliant by the time you reach him.” A couple of beats pass while he wrestles with irritation caused by the upholstery. “No hurry—he isn’t going anywhere. I want you to check up on Yammy before you go.”

12
    When Superman morphs into Godot, you can be sure you have reached a deeper, more nuanced level of the American initiation: ask the Iraqis. It’s been one excuse after another from my biological father, aka Superman. I contacted him more than a year ago, in the teeth of outraged objections from Nong (“If he wanted to know us, he would have got in touch decades ago”), and to my astonishment he replied with true Yankee enthusiasm and promised to visit as soon as his legal practice gave him a break. Since then it’s been one excuse after another. Nong has begun to doubt that he really intends to come see us at all, and now we’ve just received an e-mail to say he’s had to postpone again on the advice of his doctor. We’re in the Old Man’s Club at about six-thirty in the evening, and Nong is ranting about
farang
men in general and him in particular: “Why do they make these stupid promises they don’t intend to keep, as if we’re children who can’t take reality straight? This is the problem with their whole culture—they think the rest of the world is as childish as they are. A Thai man would have told us to get lost, and we