Bangkok Haunts

what is it about the ending that you find so hard to cope with?”
    Kimberley doesn’t want to answer, so I promise to show the whole video to Supatra, as soon as I’ve got time. The FBI has another question, though. “Dr. Supatra, have you ever before come across a case of strangulation where there were no signs of struggle at all?”
    Supatra looks at her curiously, as if she has realized what this case might mean to a
farang.
“Not that I can recall, but you have to bear in mind this is a different culture, producing a different kind of consciousness.”
    Kimberley frowns. “Different kind of consciousness?”
    “Death,” the pathologist says, “the way a culture views death defines its attitude to life. Forgive me, but sometimes the West gives the impression of being in denial. The Thai attitude is a little different.”
    “What’s so different about Thailand?”
    “Oh, it’s not Thailand in particular. The whole of Southeast Asia has the ghost bug—the Malaysians are even worse than us. There are no statistics, of course, but to listen to Thais, you would likely conclude that the undead outnumber the living by a hundred to one.”
    “But you don’t think that, Dr. Supatra. You’re a scientist.”
    Dr. Supatra smiles and casts a glance at me with eyebrows raised. I nod. “I’m a scientist—but I’m not a Western scientist. With Sonchai’s permission I would like to show you something.” I nod again on Kimberley’s behalf, and we follow Supatra into her office, which forms part of the morgue. Still maintaining an ambiguous smile, she takes her laptop out from a drawer, along with a Sony Handycam video camera. “This is what I do most nights,” Supatra says. She demonstrates how she points the camera at her office window, which gives onto the morgue, facing the rows of cadavers in their steel tombs, and records onto her hard disk. “Would you like to see last night’s collection?” She checks my eyes once more; the FBI is my guest, after all. I nod for the third time, feeling awkward. Am I giving in to the temptation to be mischievous? I’m suddenly nervous about this unannounced initiation; maybe the FBI will freak? It’s too late for second thoughts, however. Kimberley sits in Supatra’s chair at her desk while Supatra plays with the laptop for a moment. “There. I’m afraid I have to use infrared light, so the images are not very clear. Hard to explain scientifically, though.”
    The FBI is finding it hard to believe what is happening. Only seconds ago it was a normal sort of day in the life of a cop. I’m watching Kimberley intently while the images start to play. Supatra has done this to me before, so I have a good idea of what the FBI is seeing, even though the screen is not in my line of sight. Kimberley turns pale, puts one hand to her face, stares at me for a moment, turns back to the laptop, shakes her head, then winces. She puts her hand to her mouth as if she is about to vomit. Supatra leans over her to turn off the video clip.
    The FBI stands up, anger distorting her features. “I’m sorry,” she says, red-faced. “I’m a guest in this country, and I’m afraid I don’t think that’s very funny.”
    Supatra shares a glance with me and raises her hands a little. I say in Thai,
“It’s okay, Kimberley is doing exactly what I did the first time I saw it. She has to find a way to convince herself that it’s not real, things like that don’t happen, it must be a trick.”
    Supatra:
“What should I do? She’s very annoyed. I don’t think this was a good idea, Sonchai. Is it easier if I pretend it’s a trick?”
    I shrug.
“Whatever is easiest.”
    “I’m very sorry,” Supatra says to Kimberley in English. “It’s Thai humor. I didn’t mean to offend you.”
    Mollified, the FBI manages a smile. “It’s okay. I guess it’s a cultural thing. Sure, I guess I would have found it funny in a different context. I’m not a killjoy—I just wasn’t expecting a practical joke.”
    “So sorry.” Supatra
wai
s to indicate sincere regret.
    Now Kimberley is anxious to show she’s a good sport. “It’s very clever,” she offers. “I don’t know how you did that. Is it part of Thai culture to believe that ghosts fornicate with each other and do those—those, uh, ugly things to each other? I’ve never heard of that. Amazing the way you got those kinds of effects. You must be a serious amateur filmmaker.”
    “Right,” Supatra says. “It’s all camera