Nok had got the taste for detective work after meeting ex-detective sergeant Danny O’Brien from New Scotland Yard. The Dublin born Irishman had also stolen her heart, but his heart belonged to another.
On two occasions in the last six months Nok had spotted a murder case covered in the press and carried out her own investigation, just out of interest, after the police failed to solve the cases. On both occasions she came up with the killer and the evidence to prove the case, so she handed her file over to the police. This got her some great publicity in the newspapers and her reputation as a credible detective was spreading fast. On another recent occasion she was approached by the family of a young girl who had been killed by a suspected ‘hit and run’ drunk driver. After the police failed to trace the offender, Nok took on the case even though the family couldn’t afford to pay her. The offender is now in prison serving a sentence as a result of Nok’s skills. Nok, like all Thais, was very happy making money, but she craved the adrenaline of working a big case and solving a mystery.
Meiwa knew all about Danny O’Brien. There was a framed front page of the Phuket Gazette newspaper hanging on the reception wall behind her desk, which showed his photo and covered the case he solved of the murder of Sarah Appleby a few years ago in Patong. Next to it was a secured glass case containing two medals that had been awarded to Danny O’Brien; one from the Queen of England and one from the Thai government. There was a third medal that had been awarded by Colonel Wattana, Chief of Police, Kathu police district, but Danny had given that one to a taxi driver from Phuket. Meiwa had heard so many stories about Danny O’Brien from Nok. It was obvious that Nok was very much in love with him.
Chapter 7 Udon Thani.
Danny and his wife Ling sat holding hands on the swing chair under the cover of the porch of the new house that Ling had built. They rocked gently back and forth just watching the monsoon rain coming down. The rain made the coriander and garlic growing in the garden smell even stronger, and the scent wafted in the warm air. The rice fields surrounding Mama’s farm were green and wet at this time of year and there was work on the farms for the locals. Ling snuggled up closer to Danny and he kissed her on the head. If either of them had ever been any happier than this, then they could not remember it. The baby was due any day now.
They had got married nearly eight months ago, as soon as Danny had returned from Bangkok after he solved the ‘Missing Jack Morgan’ case. The wedding was a grand affair, the biggest the village had ever seen. Everyone in the village attended as well as a lot of Ling’s friends from Phuket. Her maids of honour were Suzy, her old roommate and ladyboy dancer from Simons Cabaret, and Nok.
Nok was an old friend and lover of Danny’s. She first met him a couple of years ago when she was working in Moons Bar and Danny was a detective sergeant from Scotland Yard, working on a murder case. They spent a night together. It was a life changing night for both of them. After Danny had solved the case, he visited Nok and gave her enough money to leave the bar scene forever and open up a shop in Surat Thani with her grandfather. Last year Danny, now retired from the police, came back to Thailand looking for Jack Morgan, who had been reported missing. Danny had already met and fallen in love with Ling when he had to go and see Nok to ask for her help with the case. The case turned out to be bigger and more dangerous than either Danny or Nok had realised and, over the next few weeks, they spent every day and night together working on the case and growing closer, until they became lovers again.
When Danny got back to Udon Thani and his waiting love, Ling, he had to tell her all about Nok before they could get married. He worried that she would shout and scream and tell him to leave. He only knew, when he saw her again, how much he had fallen in love with her. When he arrived back in the village there was a big party waiting for him and then, for the next 24 hours he tortured his soul with the sadness and guilt he felt, especially when Ling told him that they were going to have a baby. He walked around Mama’s farm with Ling and told her everything about Nok. He told her how Nok had helped him in so many ways to understand himself, to find happiness and realise his love for Ling. He told Ling that he loved Nok, but not in the same way that he loved her. Ling was not angry and she was not upset. It was almost as if she knew. She believed that Ying, Danny’s good friend in life, was now his guiding spirit in death and it was she who had brought Danny back to Thailand to be with her. She accepted that Danny had to make his own journey to her, both physically and emotionally, and Nok was a part of that journey.
It was Ling who insisted on meeting Nok, and, after they spoke a couple of times on the phone, Nok came to Udon Thani and stayed for a few days in Mama’s house. Ling and Nok talked for hours and hours at a time, always in Thai. They never told Danny what they talked about, but it was obvious it was about him. It was also obvious that they liked each other and became big friends almost instantly, talking about their shared love for Danny. They laughed and cried together and started calling each other ‘Sister’. A week later and Nok was back for the wedding.
As the months passed Danny and Ling felt more and more happy, as their love grew deeper and their unborn baby grew bigger. Each day Danny massaged his beautiful wife with oil to help stop stretch marks on her tummy, bum, thighs and breasts, but even now her bump was not huge. Danny had got very used to living a simple and happy life with Ling, her Mama and her young sisters, Am and Om. He got used to the almost daily routine of temple and market, cooking and eating. He started to love the sights and sounds of Isaan. He made friends with the lazy Soi dogs that stretched out and slept in any shade that they could find, too hot to bark or move. The very same dogs that kept him awake on many nights when they wouldn’t stop barking and chasing motorbikes. He got used to being loved by Ling, loving Ling and making love with Ling. He felt that he had never deserved so much love, so much happiness, and he treasured each and every day. Ling had never once asked him to stop drinking or smoking, but something had changed inside Danny. He was happy like never before and he just stopped. He had become part of a bigger family and the house that Ling built was always full of visitors, who all seemed to be some relative or relation to Ling. Most mornings when Danny came downstairs to make tea there was a group of them asleep, scattered around on the lounge floor. They liked the cool of the air conditioning. Ling had a cupboard full of rolled up mattresses for them to use and Danny had got so used to them, he just stepped over them to make his tea. Just like the gecko lizards, they just sort of moved into the new house. They were family.
Ling had talked Danny into building a ‘school house’ on Mama’s farm. Really, it wasn’t much more than a wooden barn, but it had toilets and a kitchen, a blackboard and a few desks. Danny had also been talked into supplying computers and Ling taught English and computing to any parents and children who wanted to learn and she usually dragged Danny into the classes to help. Her ‘resident’ family cooked chicken and rice for everyone who attended, so suddenly Danny’s life was very full, where each day seemed to turn into a social event. He had more friends and family than he had ever had, but the most important thing, he had Ling, and they loved each other.
Chapter 8 Another headline in the news.
The beachfront restaurants at Nong Han Lake are on the opposite side of the road from the beach and are about half way along the long straight beach road that separates Karon Beach from Kata Beach. They are popular with holiday makers, expats and locals because of their superb location, good sea food and cheap prices. The restaurants are basic and have the feel of open air places, even though they have a roof. They are all in a small row together and are open fronted. They all have picture menus of the food outside, along with one or two members of the staff trying their best to entice the pedestrian holiday makers inside. They are clean and run in a simple way, with nothing fancy about their decoration. A few scattered fans blow at full speed in a vain attempt to alleviate the oppressive heat and humidity, but with little success at t
his time of the year. It was the heat rather than the spicy food that made most of the farangs sweat. The fantastic smell of spicy Thai food was constant, and the most popular restaurants, Family Seafood, Pranee Seafood and Ren & Auddy, were always full from early evening until late into the night.
Toy worked at the Pranee Seafood restaurant. She was a waitress and worked hard. She was popular with customers because of her easy smile and sense of fun, often pulling faces at the customers while they were eating. She got more tips than everyone else, but the tips were shared, even the owner taking a cut. Toy was in her early twenties and had a pretty face. She wore slightly more makeup then the other girls working there and wore her skirts slightly shorter. She had great legs and big breasts for a Thai girl and she was also slightly taller, but, even with all these clues, it was still only the more aware customers who ever realised that she was a ladyboy.
Toy had never considered herself to be a sex worker and only a few close friends knew that she had to supplement her income by turning tricks along Rat-u-Thit Road in Patong one or two nights a week, as and when she ran out of money. Very occasionally she would notice a lone male in the restaurant looking at her. She would smile and flirt and discreetly let him know that she was a ladyboy and available for a price, but she had to be extra careful; if the boss ever saw it then she would be sacked. Tonight she had had no such luck and, with the rent on her room due tomorrow and no credit left on her mobile phone, she had already decided that when the restaurant closed she would go home, shower and change before heading along the winding road that meandered over the hills that separated Karon Beach from Patong.
She was glad that she had taken the umbrella. It was one of the domed clear plastic ones that she could hold low down over her head and still see, but the heavy rain meant that customers might be hard to find. She stood huddled under the umbrella wearing thigh high boots and a red leatherette mini dress, the buttons on the front undone enough to display the black bra pushing up her breasts to be noticed by anyone passing. Toys ‘patch’ was opposite the Jungceylon shopping centre, near the junction with Bangla Road. She would walk up and down the road a short way to break up the monotony or buy food or cigarettes from the street vendors. Farangs walked past her, shoulders hunched up against the rain, making their way to the bright lights, pretty girls and loud music of the many bars that lined Bangla Road. She could smell them in the warm, damp air as they passed. Some wore expensive aftershaves that she recognised, some smelt hot and sweaty and some smelt of a mixture of the two. It was always a bonus if she got one that smelt good.
After over an hour on the street she pulled a customer; a tall good looking German man in his mid-twenties. He had a red birthmark on his cheek. She noticed him sitting on a bench in front of the Jungceylon centre, watching her for a long time before he built up the courage to cross the street to her. She had waved to him a few times before that, but he didn’t respond. She had all but given up on him when he suddenly went over to her and they chatted for less than a minute. She walked him back along the road to a small side soi where she always parked her motor bike. It was a cul-de-sac and, at this time of night, all the working girls that lived there would be working, so the soi was a good place to use and it also gave her a chance to check that nobody had stolen her bike. There was no kissing or small talk. She provided two services, ‘Yum-yum’, ‘Boom-boom’ or both. The German wanted yum-yum. He paid 500 baht (£10). She went down on her knees and unzipped him.
During the next hour she pulled a further two customers. The third one was her last. Her body was found later that morning, just after daybreak when it was light enough to be seen, slumped behind the dumpster bin, only 10 yards from her motorbike. The press were all over the story and a very real fear spread amongst the sex workers of Patong. This was the second murder in the last few days and, just like the last one, the victim was a ladyboy and had died of a single gunshot, up close and personal. It was the headline in the papers and the talk of everyone on the streets. There was a serial killer in Patong.
Chapter 9 Working together.
Colonel Sarit Wattana was the Chief of Police in the Kathu police district, which covered Patong. Today he was not a happy man; a serial killer in the busiest holiday destination in Thailand was a big, big problem. Not just a policing problem, but a political one and he already knew that he was going to be getting some very angry phone calls from some very important and powerful people demanding a quick result. Politicians and businessmen would be stinging his ears with demands before very long. He had already decided on a damage limitation plan and called a press conference. The Colonel had never been a great policeman. His ego had always been bigger than his ability, but he knew how to manipulate and play people. He didn’t rise to the top without knowing a thing or two about how to get his own way. He checked himself out in the mirror in his huge office as he placed his police cap on his head. He was a skinny man with a well-established pot belly, which the tight police uniform did nothing to hide. Giving himself one last nod in the mirror he went out to face the awaiting press.
Detectives Bee and her handsome colleague Pon had already turned out to the crime scene. Uniform and crime scene investigators were already there. The street was closed off with tape.
“Same weapon?” she asked one of the CSI men hunched over the body.
“I’d say yes. Ballistics will confirm within the hour, but it looks like a 38 special to me, hollow tip” he said, holding the bullet up with a pair of tweezers.
“Ladyboy?” asked Pon.
“I don’t know. I haven’t looked yet.”
Bee squatted down and lifted up the short red leatherette dress and tugged the panties to one side.
“Yes, she’s a katoey” she said.
She looked around and saw a packet of cigarettes lying on the ground near to the body. The packet had been soaked and ripped by the rain, but had dried now in the hot sun. She picked it up and opened what was left of it. Inside were three cigarettes, a lighter and a key to a Honda motor bike. She tossed the packet to the CSI man.
“Bag it.”
The officer placed it in an exhibits bag and tagged it as Bee looked around. A solitary Honda ‘Click’ motor bike was less than ten yards away. The key fitted so she used it to open the seat. Inside was Toys handbag containing room key, ID card, bank card, a 500 baht note, some chewing gum and some make up.
“Bingo” said Bee.
“This is less than 1000 yards from the last murder victim, another ladyboy, same area, and same weapon. I think we’ve got a serial killer” said Pon, thinking out loud.
“Bravo, Mr. Detective” said Bee, not trying to conceal her contempt for her junior detective. Pon just smiled. He had more than just a crush on Bee and he probably let her get away with a lot more then he should have. He was the only one in the office who wanted to work with her.
“The Chief isn’t going to like this” he said to nobody in particular, and nobody in particular answered.
Colonel Sarit Wattana enjoyed his press conferences and TV appearances and this one was no different.
The press and TV people waited in the large air conditioned conference room on rows of plastic chairs, note books and tape recorders ready on their laps. When the Chief walked in there was an increase in volume in the noise level as last minute views were passed and discussions ended before the Chief sat down in front of a bank of microphones of assorted shapes, sizes and colours. Colonel Wattana used both hands to adjust one of the microphones. He didn’t need to and it served no purpose other than to signal he was about to speak and the room fell silent.
“Good morning ladies and gentlemen” he began slowly, not really knowing what he was going to say yet. “This morning a body was found in a soi just off Rat-u-Thit Road. We believe that the victim died of a gunshot and we obviously suspect this to be a murder case. I have detectives at the scene as we speak and, as
yet, I have no further details to give you at this time…………..”
There was suddenly a clamour of noise and flashes as photographers tried to catch any significant moment. The Chief put his hand up to silence his audience.
“I understand……I understand…Quiet please!….. I understand that everyone is aware that this will be the second murder victim in the last few days, and that the first victim was also found in a Soi just off Rat-U-Thit and also died of a gunshot wound. At this time there is nothing to link these two murders and we are keeping an open mind until we have more information and further evidence. The message that I want to give out to everyone in the Patong area is not to panic. The police are on top of both of these investigations, and anyone with any information should contact the police………”
Once again the press group raised the noise levels as every journalist and reporter shouted out their own questions. The noise became a din and the Chief realised he was losing control. He slowly waved both his hands in the air until the noise levels dropped and some of the press sat back down in their seats.
“I will…I will take some questions” he continued, once again to a hushed room. “I will take some questions, but only one at a time. If we can work together, please! If I point to you, can you stand up and ask your question and I will answer as best I can.”
He took a moment and looked around the room. Nearly everyone was sitting with a hand up in the air so he pointed at random.
“You!”
“Who is the second victim?”
Cocktails & Dreams Page 3
