by R. J. Jagger
She hesitated.
“You don’t speak Thai.”
“The bartenders speak English and they can pass the picture on to the others,” he said.
“Technically, this is an official investigation,” she said. “You’re not authorized.”
He shrugged.
“If I find someone who remembers something, I’ll bring you back,” he said. “You can do the official interview.”
As she chewed on it, Teffinger took one of the pictures from her hand and said, “I’ll start here. You head across the street. We’re wasting time.”
Okay.
All right.
He started inside but got a tug on his arm.
“Hey, Teffinger,” she said. “Stay out of the BJ rooms.”
He smiled.
“They have BJ rooms?”
She punched his arm.
“Don’t play dumb.”
“Thanks for letting me know,” he said.
TEFFINGER HUNG IN THE ENTRANCE of Serengeti and waited until Jinka disappeared into a club across the street. His plan was to duck out and head to the next club, but something pulled him inside.
The placed buzzed, double what it had been when he and Tookta were here.
Every pole was being worked.
People were shoulder to shoulder.
The music was louder.
Lots of eyes locked onto him.
He was the tallest one there.
He had long thick hair; most of the men wore it short.
His face belonged on a magazine cover.
His eyes were blue.
He got a cold beer at the bar, something in a brown bottle with a Thai label, and took a long swallow. He expected mud, and it certainly wasn’t Anchor Steam but it actually wasn’t bad.
Why was he here?
This was stupid.
It was dangerous.
SUDDENLY SOMEONE HUGGED HIM from behind. He panicked, expecting Jinka, but turned to find it was the waitress in the schoolgirl uniform, the one who waited on him and Tookta in the back booth and waved at him every time she walked past.
“You’re back,” she said. “No girl this time.”
“You remember me?”
She squeezed him tighter.
“You tipped me good,” she said. “That night, I had a dream about you.”
“What kind of dream?”
She grabbed his hand and stuck it between her legs.
“That kind.”
Teffinger smiled, but pulled his hand out.
“Tonight you can make my dreams real,” she said. “What do you think?”
He studied her.
“What’s your name?”
“Lamdon.”
“Lamdon?”
She nodded.
“Right, Lamdon.”
“You’re a pretty girl, Lamdon.”
She bit him lightly on the chest.
“Not just pretty,” she said. “Good, too. I want to show you.”
“You mean for money?”
She bit him again, harder.
“No, for free,” she said. “Tonight, when I get off work.”
Teffinger chuckled.
“You’re direct, I’ll give you that.”
“I get off at 1:30,” she said.
53
Day 3—August 15
Wednesday Night
WITH JAMAICA’S HELP, Wing got to his feet. Po Sin was on the ground, motionless, dead or unconscious, with a fair amount of blood in his hair.
“Is he dead?” Jamaica asked.
Wing spotted a good-sized rock on the ground, probably the one Jamaica used. He picked it up and said, “See you in hell, asshole.” Then he smashed it on the man’s skull with all the force he could gather.
Bone cracked.
His brain spun and his knees wobbled.
“Get the paintings.”
“Just leave them,” Jamaica said. “They’re cursed.”
“Don’t be crazy.”
Jamaica got the tubes loose from Po Sin’s back.
Then they headed away from the building and into the night. Wing carried the rock for a hundred steps, then spotted a rain sewer and tossed it in.
“Do you think anyone saw us?” Jamaica asked.
“I didn’t see anyone,” Wing said. “Even if they did, they best they’d be able to make out is shadows.” A beat, “Thanks, by the way. In thirty seconds I would have been dead.”
“I didn’t even think,” she said. “I just did it.”
“I’m sorry it happened, I really am. I should have never brought you here.”
A pause.
Then Jamaica said, “That’s the second person I killed.”
Wing chuckled.
“You’re turning into quite the femme fatale.”
Yeah.
Right.
Great.
“The truth is though, I might have been the one to kill him, not you,” Wing said. “You might have only knocked him unconscious. Either way it doesn’t matter. He had it coming.”
“This is bad.”
“My blood’s at the scene,” he said. “Hopefully, they’ll think it’s his and just leave it in the ground until the rain washes it away, but I’m not going to count on it. That’s our biggest problem, the blood. Our second biggest problem is that we met Po Sin at the Klong Bar. I doubt that the cops will care where he was earlier in the evening, but you never know.” He exhaled, “All together, it could have been worse.”
THEY MADE THEIR WAY DOWN to a shadowy edge of Victoria Harbour and worked on Wing’s face, hair and clothes until all visible traces of blood were gone.
Then they doubled back to the car and stuck the paintings in the trunk.
Wing studied his face in the rearview mirror.
“I’ve seen worse,” he said.
Then he fired up the engine and headed to away from where they were.
54
Day 3—August 15
Wednesday Night
THE MYSTERIOUS WALKING MAN cast an eye on Kanjana’s house as he passed, but he didn’t slow down and didn’t head over, and instead disappeared down the street into the cloak of night. Prarie kept her eye in his direction on the chance he’d double back, but saw nothing through the drizzle and balled up farther against the weather.
Her skin was cold.
Her eyes were heavy.
She closed them, just for a moment’s rest.
Then her phone rang.
When it did, she realized the sound was pulling her out of a deep sleep. She panicked, unsure where she was and knowing she wasn’t supposed to be asleep but not remembering why.
Then it came to her.
How long was she out?
Did someone slip in on Kanjana?
The phone kept ringing.
She answered.
“IT’S ME, MICHELLE.”
Michelle Lecan.
The Paris woman.
“Right.”
“I went over to Sophie’s to check on her.”
The woman stopped talking.
The words hung.
“And?”
“And … it’s bad.”
Water dripped into Prarie’s eyes.
She wiped it out with the back of her hand.
“How bad?”
“All the way bad.”
“Are you saying she’s dead?”
“Unfortunately, yes.”
A pause.
“How?”
“You mean how did they kill her?”
“Right, how did they kill her?”
“It wasn’t pretty,” Michelle said. “They were obviously trying to get information out of her.” Silence. “There’s nothing you can do here, so don’t even think about coming back. Get underground and do it now. Kanjana will tell you what to do. Follow her instructions to the letter. Do you understand what I’m saying?”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
Prarie almost hung up but said, “Are you st
ill there?”
Yes.
She was.
“Can you do something for me?”
“What?”
“Find out who did it.”
“I’m not a P.I.”
“I know that,” Prarie said. “Hire one. I’ll cover all the costs.”
“We already know it’s someone working on your husband’s behalf,” Michelle said.
“I want to know who, exactly.”
“Why?”
“Because I need to know,” Prarie said. “Will you do it for me?”
A beat.
“Okay,” Michelle said. “But I can tell you one thing right now. Whoever it was, they’re going to be on the first plane to Bangkok. They’ll be there by noon tomorrow. By the way, I told you before to get rid of your phone. Do it as soon as we hang up. They can use it to track you. Call me tomorrow from a public phone.”
SUDDENLY A SCREAM CAME from Kanjana’s house.
Prarie dropped the phone.
And ran that way.
55
Day 3—August 15
Wednesday Night
SOI COWBOY TURNED OUT to be a bust. Jinka went into every club on her side of the street and couldn’t find a single soul who remembered seeing Tookta the night she disappeared. Same thing for Teffinger.
“Now what?”
“I want to go to that bar across the street from Tookta’s,” Jinka said. “The one with the neon dragon sign. Maybe someone saw something.”
Teffinger looked at his watch.
10:38 p.m.
“Let’s do it,” he said.
They walked over and when they got there Teffinger said, “I can’t take any more smoke. I’m going to hang outside.”
Fine.
No problem.
Teffinger looked for a place to sit, spotted a planter thirty steps down and headed over. Two minutes later a man came down the street. He looked vaguely familiar. Teffinger knew him from somewhere.
Where?
Then he remembered.
The guy was the same one who passed Teffinger in the storm right after Teffinger climbed out Tookta’s window.
He hid his face as the man passed.
When he looked up, the man was looking directly at him with a weird look on his face. He didn’t stop, though. He headed over to the bar and opened the door. Instead of stepping inside, he moved to the left to give room for a woman coming out.
Jinka.
The man disappeared inside as Jinka walked over to Teffinger.
“Another waste of time,” she said.
Teffinger put his arms around her and pulled her stomach to his.
“You’re sexy when you’re frustrated. Did anyone ever tell you that?”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
BACK AT JINKA’S, Teffinger took her, but this time instead of fast and rough he worked her into a slow, gentle frenzy, taking his time to explore her incredible body and play with her sensations.
Afterwards she said, “God, I hate you for being able to do that to me.”
“You don’t like it?”
“No, I do, that’s the problem.”
He wasn’t quite sure what that meant.
Probably because his mind was already somewhere else. “I’m going to stake out the river,” he said.
Jinka groaned.
“That’s a waste of time.”
“You want to come?”
“I’m already asleep,” she said.
“Can I borrow your car?”
Sure.
No problem.
“The keys are in my purse.”
FROM JINKA’S, Teffinger didn’t go to the river. Instead he went back to Soi Cowboy and had two beers in a strip club called Dazzle. At 1:15 he walked over to Serengeti. By the time he got ten steps inside, Lamdon already had her precious little body and her cute schoolgirl outfit pressed against him.
“You came back for me,” she said. “I didn’t think you would.”
56
Day 3—August 15
Wednesday Night
WING AND JAMAICA almost went to Jamaica’s place to spend the night, the theory being that it would probably be safe so long as they kept the lights off, then decided against it on the chance that someone related to the yacht was still staking it out. They ended up driving around east of Causeway Bay until they found a cheap hotel where Wing could sneak into the room without going through the lobby. Jamaica registered under a false name, paid cash, went to the room, dialed Wing and gave him the number.
Two minutes later he showed up.
In the bathroom, under good light, he studied his face.
One of the cuts above his eye was bad.
It wouldn’t close.
Blood kept dripping out, not a waterfall, but enough.
“You need stitches,” Jamaica said.
Wing shook his head.
“No doctors.”
“Then I’m going to go out and get something to do it with,” she said.
Wing pictured it.
He didn’t pride himself on having a high tolerance of pain but said, “That’s probably best.”
She gave him a kiss and headed out.
Wing sat on the bed, thinking, then called Cho Chung, who was sleeping but answered anyway.
“HEY, DO YOU STILL HAVE THAT OLD JUNK moored out in the typhoon shelter?”
He did.
He did indeed.
“Why? Are you looking to use it in another video?”
“Actually I am,” Wing said. “It is vacant?”
“Pretty much,” Cho said. “I take a woman there for a glass of wine now and then, but that’s about it.”
“I want to rent it for a month,” Wing said.
“Why so long?”
Wing expected the question and had an answer.
“Mostly because I’m not sure when we’re going to get to it, but want to be sure it’s there and ready for us when we do,” he said. “That’s the secondary reason. The main reason is because I have a woman who’s going to be staying there off and on. She’ll have some of her stuff there, her clothes and whatnot. She’s not going to want anyone coming in and out, so you’ll need to stay off if we do it.”
“No problem,” Cho said. “I hardly go there anyway. I’m not as good with the ladies as I once was, if you want to know the truth.”
“Who is? What do you want for the month?”
Cho told him.
“I’ll wire it to your account.”
Fine.
Enjoy.
“The cabin key is in the same place as before.”
JAMAICA SHOWED UP half an hour later, pulled needles and thread out of her purse and said, “This is the best I could find.”
Wing swallowed.
“I made a call to a guy named Cho,” he said. “He has an old Chinese junk anchored in the Causeway Bay Typhoon Shelter that I used in a video last year. I rented it for a month from him. In the morning, we’ll hide the paintings there. That will give us time to figure out how to get them to Bangkok.”
Jamaica half listened.
But mostly studied his wound.
“This is going to hurt,” she said.
57
Day 3—August 15
Wednesday Night
THE SCREAMING GOT LOUDER as Prarie ran towards the house. Kanjana was being murdered, no question. It was Prarie’s fault for falling asleep.
Hold on!
Hold on!
Hold on!
She bounded through the front door with her knife in hand.
What she saw she could hardly believe.
Kanjana was on the couch, naked, face down. Her hands were tied behind her back and her feet were tired to her hands in a hogtie position. Her panties and T were ripped off and on the floor.
So was her knife.
The man wasn’t in the room.
Where was he?
The bedroom?
Waiting to pounce?
“Cut me
loose!” Kanjana said.
Prarie walked towards the couch, one step at a time, keeping her face pointed at the dark bedroom doorway.
When he came for her, she’d kill him.
She’d get him in the face.
Or arm.
Wherever she could.
She’d stab him a thousand times if that’s what it took.
SHE SUDDENLY REALIZED that something was wrong.
Different.
What?
Kanjana had stopped screaming. Now the woman was totally quiet except for heavy breathing. She was staring at Prarie with terrified eyes. Prarie got all the way to her without being attacked, then cut the ropes.
Kanjana immediately pulled the loose ends off and swooped her knife off the floor.
As soon as her fingers tightened around the handle, her face changed.
The terror washed off.
A deep, deep hated replaced it.
Then, together, the women headed for the bedroom.
58
Day 3—August 15
Wednesday Night
TEFFINGER NEEDED TO BE CAREFUL to not hurt Lamdon’s feelings. There was something nice about her, something he couldn’t quite put his finger on, but something real. When her shift ended, she swapped her short plaid schoolgirl skirt and for gray sweatpants and washed the glitter and makeup off her face. Teffinger hardly recognized her when she stepped up and linked her arm through his.
“Do you have a car?” she asked.
He did.
“Let’s go to my place.”
“How do you usually get home?”
“Taxi.”
She was terrible at directions, not giving them until the last second, and then saying, “Turn here,” without indicating left or right.
“I’m going to say something and I don’t want you to take it the wrong way,” Teffinger said. “You’re a beautiful woman. I know what you want and under different circumstances I’d count myself as the luckiest guy in the world. But right now I’m sort of seeing someone.”
