by Roland Perry
‘I have never experienced heat like this,’ Smith said to Cavalier, who was always more laconic than normal in her presence. ‘By midafternoon, it was so bad that Bangkok’s streets seemed almost empty.’
‘I don’t know,’ Cavalier said, ‘I saw several Englishman taking their mad dogs for a walk.’
‘Really? You’re kidding, aren’t you?’
Cavalier smiled faintly.
‘I can’t function when it’s like this,’ Smith went on. ‘It makes me feel, you know …’
‘Inelegant?’
‘What?’
‘The English novelist Jane Austen once wrote to a friend saying the heat kept her in a constant state of inelegance.’
‘That’s cute! It makes me feel lethargic.’
‘Oscar Wilde once said, “Conversation about the weather is the last refuge of the unimaginative”. In your case, I am sure it is to open chat about climate change, no?’
Smith smiled, uncertain of what he meant or if he was being cynical, a trait that was beyond her realm of serious endeavour. They were distracted by two women on a motorcycle roaring along Sukhumvit. The young driver was on the phone. Her mini-skirted female passenger was riding side-saddle and putting on make-up.
‘Jeez!’ Smith observed. ‘That is an accident waiting to happen!’
‘Nothing out of the ordinary here,’ Cavalier said.
‘We are a hundred per cent satisfied the corpse was Cortez,’ she told him over dinner. ‘We did our own verification once we viewed the body. But thank you for the extra confirmation you provided. You have no idea how many agency people are celebrating over his demise. More so even than Bin Laden. It’s personal for quite a few of his victims’ friends and family. We are most grateful.’ She smiled properly at him for the first time since they had initially met in Chiang Mai. ‘So much so that you will find a nice surprise in your bank account tomorrow morning.’
‘Much appreciated, thank you.’
‘No, thank you! Tell me, Dr Makanathan claims that the most likely killer was an American named …’ she paused to find her electronic phone notes, ‘Edward Blenkiron.
‘I don’t know anyone by that name. I certainly did not meet him. As you know, I do not work with accomplices.’
‘We have already run a check. There is someone of that name, age and description from his passport photo, who is recorded as living somewhere in Asia. Apart from that, nothing.’
‘What a coincidence.’
‘He was wheelchair-bound,’ Smith said with an enigmatic smile.
‘Poor fellow.’
‘Makanathan believes it’s possible that this Blenkiron guy faked his disability, murdered Cortez and jumped the train.’
‘Perhaps we should applaud him.’
‘She also mentioned some autistic passenger with a sort of sixth sense, who also reckoned Blenkiron may have done it.’
‘That’s the most credible comment yet. I wouldn’t call it a sixth sense. More like a capacity that is real and needs to be explored.’
‘The good DNA doctor did not mention you as a passenger.’ ‘I hope you didn’t say anything about me?’
‘No, of course not. I gave her nothing. She was confused and disheartened. I don’t think she has failed to nail a killer yet; or at least know who the assailant was and how she did it.’
‘She?’
‘Makanathan referred to the murderer that way. I’d be careful with her. She’s not only brilliant, she’s determined; more dangerous than a hungry raptor.’ Smith paused and let Cavalier pour her a beer. ‘Her husband had a relapse. She thinks he’ll recover. I know she cares very much for him, yet his illness frustrated her investigation. I had the impression from our brief conversation that she was more concerned about identifying Cortez’s killer.’
‘That’s her job.’
‘Are you going to give me even a clue how you did it?’
‘Does it matter?’
‘No, I guess not. I’ve been mulling over it myself. Just suppose you were masquerading as this Blenkiron guy. We know you left your Chiang Mai condo with his wheelchair. You carry out your mission, and make it look as if he has jumped the train, and then pose as someone else.’
Cavalier did not respond.
‘What I can’t figure is the logistics on the train,’ Smith said, frowning. ‘I can only suggest you somehow moved on the outside or top of the train—’
‘I don’t want to discuss it further,’ Cavalier butted in. ‘I can tell you one thing: I’m not Spiderman.’
Smith gave him a knowing look, and then beamed. ‘I want to let you know that the DEA wants to give you a citation.’
‘For what?’
Smith did not answer at first. Her attitude had changed. She seemed almost schoolgirlish in her admiration for Cavalier. ‘We want to arrange something for your intrepid journalism,’ she said.
‘I am most honoured and grateful, but no. It would draw attention to me and I wish to remain in the background.’
‘I know you have refused our brother agency’s overtures,’ she said, scrutinising him, ‘but would you be open to other assignments?’
‘I can always say “no”.’
*
Gregory phoned Cavalier and congratulated him on his successful mission.
‘Lovely Melody has changed her tune about you,’ he said. ‘She was gushing about your “achievement”. Did you … er … with her?’
‘I promised not to tell,’ Cavalier said, ‘but the answer is no, I didn’t.’
‘Perhaps you should have. Her kudos within the DEA has been given an enormous lift by Cortez’s liquidation. There is talk in Washington of her becoming the first female director of the DEA, or even the CIA.’
‘She’s efficient and smart. She’d be very good.’
‘I concur. I want to hear detail about your sightseeing trip on the Express.’
‘When we meet for those beers we owe each other.’
‘You know, Vic, after your train escapade you remind me of John Le Carre’s description of his wonderful fictional character, George Smiley: “He travels without labels in the guard’s van of life’s social express”.’ ‘What now for you?’
‘I have some personal matters to clear up,’ Cavalier replied without elaboration.
‘By the way, the Malaysian police have those two Indonesians. We have asked for extradition. Not sure they’ll agree.’
‘I can guess why.’
‘And you’d be correct. The Malaysians want to make examples of them. They and the other terrorists are likely to be executed.’
41
REUNION
Cavalier, again without disguise, stood at the entrance to Pon’s hospital room, which was dominated by a bright, cheerful yellow on walls and ceiling, and a strong whiff of antiseptic. He stared at her as she read a magazine, unaware that he was standing there. Her fair hair was unkempt, and her eyes had dark rims. She looked a decade older than she was. Pon’s exceptional beauty had left her, perhaps forever. The hospital’s report was not hopeful. Rehabilitation, it advised, could take years and there was no guarantee of a good outcome. It depended much on Pon’s will to recover.
Cavalier gripped a big bunch of flowers that he wanted so much to hand her. He had not been able to do this for nearly a decade. He knocked. She looked up. It took her a few moments to register her father. But when she did, she tried to leave her bed. He threw the flowers on the floor and rushed forward to prevent her from collapsing. A nurse bustled in to help.
Pon began with a torrent of words in Thai, English and a Mexican dialect as Cavalier held her.
‘He said he would kill you if I didn’t do what he wanted!’ she blubbered. ‘He held that over me for so long. He drugged me … he raped me! He beat me up! He … said … you were a murderer, a professional killer like him … say it isn’t true, Daddy! Please tell me that!’
Cavalier shook his head and held her tight. She cried for so long that he thought he should leave. The nurse mo
tioned that he should go, but Pon clung onto him.
‘No, I want you here! I never want you to leave me again! Please! I’m afraid he’ll come back … oh, please!’
Pon gripped his blue shirt so tight that she ripped off a button.
‘I’ll stay,’ Cavalier said to her and the nurse.’
Pon recovered some composure.
‘I can’t get rid that image of him, dead on the floor, staring up at me …’ She fought tears again, before adding, ‘You know, the train manager thought I’d done it.’ She managed a laugh. ‘Me, a killer!’ Pon’s face clouded. ‘Of course, I would have killed him, if I could.’ She looked hard at her father. ‘Dr Makanathan said she believed an American on board did it. Do you know anything about that?’
‘Not really.’
‘I vaguely recall a wheelchair. If the American did do it, I want to meet him and kiss him and thank him!’
‘I’m sure he would appreciate that, especially from someone as beautiful as you. The most important thing now is your health. I’ve arranged for you to be with your mother …’
‘Does she still have that awful doll, Serena?’
Cavalier could not help laughing.
‘I believe she does.’
‘Oh, no! It freaked me out; it’s so old and looks so scary!’
They laughed together. Cavalier felt, but did not say, that this moment could have been the first spark of a recovery.
*
Cavalier only left the hotel to visit the hospital to see Pon each day before her flight to Chiang Rai. She begged him to go with her and he agreed to do so. The day before they left, he ignored several calls from the tenacious Makanathan. He had no desire any more to play the Frenchman in front of her, knowing that she would have had time to reflect on events on the train. He did however, send a text:
How is your husband? I pray he has recovered.
She replied:
He is on the mend. We have both given up smoking, as all good doctors should!
In frustration Makanathan left a phone message:
‘I just wish to talk about that wheelchair-bound American. I wanted your thoughts about him before I close this case.’
Cavalier sent another text:
I have no thoughts on him. I never made his acquaintance. Sorry I can’t be of more assistance. I wish you and your husband well.
*
The call worried Cavalier. Makanathan had authority and police connections. She was dogmatic and, from the attempt to see him, he guessed she may have suspected him. Perhaps she had learned about the partition between the two cabins on the train. Or had she been told of his fighting off the suicide bombers with Jacinta and Dempster? That would expose him as someone handy with a gun, which would have added to Makanathan’s suspicions. Cavalier decided to put his meagre belongings in a backpack and check out for the last night. He still had his Glock 17, and the disassembled rifle in its five canisters.
Jacinta wanted to meet Cavalier for morning coffee. He was reluctant to step out of the hotel before dusk, and would only agree to meet Jacinta if she knew of a discreet place.
‘I have a close friend, she is a French archaeologist, who lives in a chateau across the river,’ she said. ‘Why don’t we have a coffee near your hotel and then we can breakfast at the chateau? It’s isolated.’
They met at his favourite cafe, Viva in Soi 8. Jacinta wore a black cap jammed on her head, dark glasses, a sloppy jumper, grey slacks and sneakers. Her last public Muay Thai bout had been approaching a year earlier, but she was still a big star in Thailand. The last thing she wanted was autograph hunters tapping her arm and phone cameras flashing.
It was hot for 9 a.m. Four roof fans were humming, augmented by jets of cool air on the open roof area. Two television sets on a wall were showing the Fashion Channel and sport without sound. There was a sprinkling of customers. The women in the parlour across the alley were stirring and listlessly preparing for another day of crying ‘massage’ and ‘where you go, handsome man?’. Farang and locals were in no hurry as they strolled by in the sluggish heat.
Cavalier, carrying his backpack, was on edge when he recognised a middle-aged American woman, who read the papers and then scrutinised a computer tablet so intently that she seemed unaware of others. He recalled speaking to her once, a year ago. The American woman glanced for a second at Jacinta, then Cavalier, before her breakfast was served.
When their coffee arrived, he took off his glasses and glared at an overweight European at the next table whose overpowering cheap cigar smoke was blowing in their direction. He kept looking over at Cavalier as if he knew him. He whispered something to a Thai companion, who glanced at Jacinta and replied. Lip reading, Cavalier saw the Thai say, ‘Isn’t that Jacinta Cin Lai?’
‘My Buddha! I think you are right!’ his companion said. The European stubbed his cigar and nodded an apology to Jacinta.
It was enough for Cavalier. He paid the bill and they took a taxi to a private jetty on the Chao Phraya River next to the smart Shangri-La Hotel, where a small wooden boat and its pilot were waiting.
They chugged along on the water. Two tour boats bumped by, creating waves as they headed past two other tour vessels that were anchored mid-river.
‘Have you looked at your bank account?’ he asked Jacinta.
‘Not today, why?’
Jacinta took out her phone, lifted her glasses, and looked up her account. Her eyes widened and she smiled, squeezing Cavalier’s arm at the same time.
‘Five million baht!’ she said under her breath, pulling a face. ‘That’s too much!’
‘I couldn’t have achieved a successful assignment had you not been there.’
Jacinta kissed him on the cheek. The boat pilot cheered and caused both of them to laugh. He had recognised Jacinta.
‘Now do you have to fight again?’ Cavalier asked.
‘Not for some time,’ she laughed. ‘You know that Azelaporn is prevaricating over his promised payment to me?’
‘Tell me something that’s surprising.’
‘You don’t want another assignment, do you?’ Jacinta said, lowering her voice to a mock conspiratorial tone. ‘I could pay you about five million baht to liquidate him.’
They both laughed.
‘Where was he during the attack on the train?’ Cavalier asked.
‘Locked in his cabin protecting his Chinese women.’
‘Gutless wonder!’
‘All bullies are. You should be pleased. If he’d seen us side by side fending off the attack on the locomotive, he would have been suspicious.’
‘Seriously,’ Cavalier said, ‘you should not fight again, unless you really crave it. Don’t do it for the money, please.’
‘Not for some time, thank you. Thank you very much!’
‘I am sure the DEA and CIA would love to employ you.’
Jacinta did not react.
‘I am certain that Tommy Gregory would find work for you,’ Cavalier said, thinking aloud. ‘I’ll have a word to them all if you wish.’
‘I need to be in Thailand. I have family who depend on me.’
‘Perhaps the work could have you based here. And what about the Thai Government? It talks up a storm about stopping drug and people trafficking. There is no one better placed to tackle that.’
‘I don’t know if the junta would agree. I am tainted by association with Azelaporn and his corruption.’
‘The junta will not be in power forever. A new government might see you differently.’
‘Taint sticks,’ she said, wrinkling her nose.
‘Well I, for one, would love to work with you again.’
‘I certainly hope so.’
She pulled a small bag from her pocket. ‘Thought you might like these,’ she said, showing him the contents. It was the pair of special glasses he had given her on the train.
‘Oh, yeah,’ he replied, ‘there’s always something I forget on these missions.’
She handed them to him.
>
‘No,’ he said, ‘you keep them. I’ll say they were destroyed. They may come in handy in your old age.’
Jacinta smiled and thanked him. Then she dropped her voice to an almost inaudible whisper.
‘I was wondering about one thing. When those suicide bombers rushed the train, you hesitated and I shot one of them. Afterwards you seemed to be looking for something.’
Cavalier swallowed and considered her for so long that she apologised for querying his actions.
The boat reached the opposite bank and meandered down the Thonburi district’s canal Mon. Its shanty houses gave way to some grand homes and colonial-style mansions, then a few chateaux.
‘I did the wrong thing,’ he said finally. ‘I could have endangered everybody.’
‘Why?’
‘I thought one of the bombers may have been a child. Instead of shooting, I faltered. It could have been a case of “he who hesitates is lost”.’
‘If you’ll permit me another English saying, “to err is human”.’
‘You could say “humane” too. It is also fatal in our business. If that child …’
‘It was a child?’ Jacinta interjected.
‘Yes, a girl, judging from the two gold rings on her fingers. If she had reached the train, you and I and that brave fellow Dempster, and perhaps everyone in the first few carriages, including Pon, would have been killed.’
It was Jacinta’s turn to stare.
‘What are you thinking?’ she asked.
‘I have never hesitated before. Never had a dilemma. When I was in my twenties I nearly lost my nerve on an assignment. This was different. I’ve had nightmares over this … this “lapse”.’
Jacinta waited.
‘I’m becoming soft and too old for this caper,’ he said with a rueful smile.
‘Well you can be gentle and at peace in this place and with my friends,’ she said, pointing to Chateau William. ‘It is like another world and nothing like Bangkok.’
42
CHATEAU OF SURPRISE
Cavalier stood to take a phone picture of the stunning chateaux looming at a bend in the canal about a hundred and thirty metres away as they chugged slowly towards them. Cavalier zoomed as close as he could with the limited range. He stopped, lowered his phone, stepped to the front of the boat and stood on a seat for greater elevation. He turned to Jacinta.
