The Flower Girl

by Lilburne, Guy

  “Yes, I agree. But not by me.”

  “So, what is happening about Dean Wilkinson?”

  “We are working on it, Steve. Detective Sergeant Rich Perrins is doing some life style surveillance on the target and we have already been in contact with the British Embassy, to see how the land lies, with a view to bringing him back here for trial. It’s early days yet, Steve, but it is all good news.”

  I knew that Sawat was right. It was good news, but my spirits had sunk a little. I was feeling frustrated and I had a feeling of hatred for this man Dean Wilkinson. He had murdered the only person who I had ever truly loved and he had ruined my life as well. I have to say that, looking at him in the photo, he did look like a pot- bellied pig in a tee shirt; a pig with tattoos and an ugly one at that.

  “I’ll keep you informed, Steve. I didn’t join the police to do a good job, but I will do my best for you, matey.” Sawat patted me on the shoulder.

  I went straight back to the Buddha room and told the prison monk all about it. He couldn’t understand a word of course, but I think he understood my feelings and emotions. I also told Buddha and I know that he understood me. I remembered Pin’s words when she told me not to hate anyone, so I tried to stop hating the pot- bellied pig called Dean Wilkinson.

  Chapter 15

  Another Detective on the case.

  I didn’t have to worry about Sawat keeping the investigation moving along on my behalf. He had been in regular contact with Rich Perrins, the Detective Sergeant from the City of Leeds police. Rich Perrins was everything I would have expected and even wanted in a Yorkshireman. He had a strong Leeds accent and wore a cloth cap. He said a lot of things like ‘Eee by gum’, ‘Ekcy thump’, ‘Did I eckers like’. His favourite sayings were “I say what I like and I like what I say!” and “I’m Yorkshire born and Yorkshire bred, I’m strong in the arm and thick in the head.” He called all females ‘Luv’ and he even kept ferrets and raced pigeons. He was an ex-navy man, having served four years on submarines. He had a mop of blond hair, which he kept in the same style as Boris Johnson and he had a set of shoulders that you didn’t get by accident. When he wasn’t racing pigeons or shoving ferrets down holes, then he was in the gym power lifting. As they say in Yorkshire ‘he was built like a brick shit house’ and just as wide. He laughed just a bit too loudly at his own jokes and made it his own personal mission to try and crush the hand of everyone he shook hands with. He was always looking at ways of saving or making money and if he could get away with not paying for something, then he did. As a detective he was dedicated and he had a reputation for ripping into a case the same way that a Staffordshire Bullterrier might rip into a rag doll it had been teased with.

  When Detective Sergeant Perrins answered the phone to Sawat the first time, he just thought that he was speaking to a detective from Liverpool. But, as Sawat explained the case, Perrins sat up straight in his chair and grabbed a Biro from the holder on his desk. As far as Perrins was concerned this had ‘Trip to Thailand’ written all over it and he was going to do everything in his power to make sure he got the ticket. He made notes of all the details that Sawat supplied to him in regards of the case of The Flower Girl murder and Dean Wilkinson. Sawat was able to give Dean Wilkinson’s date of birth and address to Perrins from his hotel booking.

  “At this stage I just want you to confirm the suspect’s details and address and do any intelligence checks that you can do for me” said Sawat, from his office at Chalong Police Station. “The Thai authorities are negotiating with the British Government regarding the possibility of extradition. We will wait until we get the nod from them before we think about making any arrest.”

  “I understand, but I have no personal knowledge of anyone being extradited to Thailand from the UK. I guess, if it is a murder and they think the evidence is good enough, then you might have a chance.”

  “Well, it is out of our hands Rich. But if we can firm up on everything you have on Dean Wilkinson in the meantime, it’s a start.”

  “I’ll do everything I can Sawat and I’ll let you know.”

  Rich Perrins was as good as his word, which he said was his bond. He kept Sawat informed and Sawat kept me informed.

  Dean Wilkinson now had both of his sons serving time in prison and his wife, Debbie, was keeping him on a tight leash since she found out about his Thai girlfriend. When Dean had returned from Thailand after the murder, he told his wife that it was all over between him and Pin and that she had decided to have an abortion. Debbie had told Dean that he was never going back to Thailand again and, at the time, he was quite happy about that. He would have been nervous about going back anyway, even though he was quite certain that nobody could link him to the murder. He had carried on with his dull and boring life in Leeds for the last year. When he saw the news on the BBC regarding the Thai police looking for the murderer of The Flower Girl, he went into an instant cold sweat, until he realised that they were looking for someone called Steven West. Later, the news said that he had been arrested and then, still later, he had been charged. His wife never made the connection and didn’t realise it was the same Thai girl and that the dead girl was her husband’s ex-girlfriend. The more Dean thought about it the happier he was. It meant that he could go back to Thailand. He knew that this would cause problems with his wife, but he didn’t care. If she nagged him too much he could always silence her with a punch to the mouth. His fate was sealed when he won an accumulator bet on the horses. He pocketed just over £1000 and that was enough for his flight and some spending money. He decided not to say anything to Debbie. They could argue about it when he got home in a few weeks’ time. He searched the internet for the cheapest flights and booked a flight with Etihad, flying out of Manchester airport in two days’ time.

  It was Sawat who rang Rich Perrins to tell him that Dean Wilkinson had booked a flight to Thailand. The British Embassy had contacted the Thai authorities as soon as his passport was used to book the flights. Suddenly, the extradition didn’t matter anymore, as long as Dean Wilkinson was going to catch his flight. Perrins was gutted as he saw his trip to Thailand melt away in front of his eyes. He offered to follow Wilkinson all the way to Thailand, but Sawat told him that it wouldn’t be necessary.

  “Flippin Eck” said Perrins, putting the phone down.

  Two days later Dean Wilkinson walked out of his council house in Leeds, with his passport and a rucksack with some clothes in it. He couldn’t risk packing a suitcase. He sent his wife to the shop and he was gone before she got back. He had changed the remainder of the £1000 into Thai baht and one of his work mates gave him a lift over the Pennines from Leeds to Manchester on the M62. They laughed and joked about his outrageous trip all the way to the airport. His mate told him that he wished he had the balls to do such a thing and Dean reveled in the title of Legend bestowed upon him by his grinning mate.

  Dean went through check-in and security with no hold ups. He decided not to buy cigarettes in the duty free, because they would be cheaper to buy in Thailand. He wasn’t looking forward to the 18 hour trip with a stop in Abu Dhabi, but he smiled as he thought about the sexual delights that awaited him in the Land of Smiles. His passport had been flagged and the British Embassy notified the Thai Authorities that he had checked in. They were updated when he boarded and when he landed and took off in Abu Dhabi. The Captains and crew on both the flights were all aware that they were carrying the suspect wanted by the Thai Police. Everyone who scanned his passport during the journey was also aware, but nobody batted an eye. Dean Wilkinson had no idea he was a wanted man and was heading to the people who wanted him at over 500 miles per hour. The Captain spoke to air traffic control on his final approach into Bangkok’s Suvarnabhumi Airport, to see if there were any special instructions. Sometimes the police like to come onto the aircraft and remove the wanted person before anybody else gets off, but it depends on the risk and circumstances. In this case the
Thai Police were happy for Dean Wilkinson to disembark and they would detain him at the customs point.

  Even though Detective Sawat Deewat hadn’t joined the police to arrest anyone, he was at the airport with several other officers to make the arrest. He recognised Dean Wilkinson from his photo. He was actually wearing the same shorts that he was wearing in the photo and the LUFC tattoo, with a dagger and snake and the words ‘Leeds until I die’, was enough for Sawat to be certain. He nodded to the other uniformed officers and they followed him through the huge airport. Wilkinson walked up the ramp towards the customs and immigration desks and the officers hung back until he was at one of the desks. He handed his passport to the immigration officer as Sawat and the other officers came up behind him.

  “Dean Wilkinson?” said Sawat, in a voice that could be nothing else but police.

  “Oh Fuck!” said Dean in a low voice, as he turned around to face the officers.

  “I’m Detective Sawat Deewat. I’m arresting you for the murder of Pin Pistok.”

  “Who the fuck is Pin Pistok?”

  “The Flower Girl, who you murdered last year in Karon Beach, you fuck wit.”

  Sawat spoke in Thai to the other officers and Dean Wilkinson was spun around, handcuffed and led away. He was taken to Lumpini police station 139 Wireless Road Bangkok. He spent most of the journey shouting and screaming at the escorting officers, demanding a solicitor and threatening to make complaints, sue them as individuals, sue the police and sue the Thai Government. Sawat travelled to the station in his own car and, as always, the relatively short distance took a lot longer because of the rush hour traffic, which lasted from about 7am until midnight each day. A hell of a rush hour!

  Dean Wilkinson was placed in a cell to wait and calm down. He had made a lot of noise because he thought that was how an innocent man might act, with anger and outrage. When he sat alone in his cell he could feel the walls closing in on him and his mind was racing. He had done the outraged innocent and angry man act, but he knew now that he was going to have to be a lot cleverer than that to get away with the murder.

  “How did they know?” he kept asking himself out loud. He sat on the concrete floor and held his head in his hands in an attempt to stop it spinning. He knew that he had to think this through. He had to think of something, but he needed to know how much they knew and how they knew it. He was sure he could talk his way out of it by thinking on his feet and weaving his story around any evidence that the Thai police might have. ‘What evidence could they possibly have?’ he thought to himself and tried to stop his panicking mind from spinning, so that he could think everything through. He was happy that nobody could tie him to Pin, because nobody knew who he was. He knew that Pin had never had a boyfriend before him, but he decided that he was going to tell the police that she had lots of boyfriends. No, he changed his mind. He was going to deny all knowledge, and he was going to say he had never met The Flower Girl. No, he changed his mind again. She was pregnant with his baby. Maybe they had done DNA tests on the baby and held the results somewhere to compare with any potential fathers that might be arrested in the future. But, then again, maybe they didn’t do any such test. In which case there was nothing to stop him denying that he was the father of the unborn child and then he could stick to his plan of just denying that he had ever met the Flower Girl. He knew that he needed to know how much the police knew and he was going to have to be very careful on interview. Maybe try and befriend the interviewing officer and try to glean from him what evidence they had against him. Steven West! He suddenly remembered the name of the man they had said had been arrested and charged with the murder on the BBC news. He scanned his memory frantically to try and find any link he had to Steven West. There was none and he was satisfied that he had no connection to Steven West. He was also confident that he had never told a single person about killing Pin. He didn’t like to think about it as murder. He had no choice. His life was being taken out of his hands and he had to keep control. He had always satisfied himself that it wasn’t murder because he didn’t preplan it. It was only as they sat on the grassy bank under the palm trees that he saw the big rock and realised that it was his way out; his escape. He had suddenly realised that he could just kill her; hit her on the head and throw her into the sea. Maybe the sharks would eat her. She was only a Flower Girl. He knew that she had no family and he knew that nobody would even miss her. For the first time in over a year he relived the moment that he picked the rock up and smashed it down onto her head and tossed her body over the cliff. Until that moment sitting in a cell in Lumpini police station he had never thought about it. He had wiped The Flower Girl completely from his mind. To Dean Wilkinson it was nothing more than just a forgotten holiday romance, but now it was washing over him like a bad smell and he didn’t want it to stick to him. He didn’t feel guilty. He had never felt guilty. He didn’t think it was his fault. He thought that it was the stupid Flower Girl’s own fault for getting pregnant.

  “How the fuck do they know?” he said out loud.

  He knew that he had to keep calm. He knew that he had to be clever and think on his feet. He realised that he would only get one chance to get away with this and the police had already charged one man with the murder. There was every chance he could get away with it if he stayed calm, gave clever answers and made the police like him. He thought through it all again and was satisfied that the only thing that could possibly link him to Pin Pistok (The Flower Girl) was the unborn baby inside her. Even if they could link him through the baby, it still didn’t prove the murder. He had to appear to want to help the police as much as he possibly could. He had to act like an innocent man. He tried to eliminate any guilty knowledge from his mind and replace it with innocence and a generally confused state. He thought that is how an innocent man would be right now; innocent and confused and probably happy to talk and help as much as they could. His breathing started to calm down as he realised that this wasn’t the end. He had a plan now and there was a way out of this situation.

  It was another three hours before he was taken into an interview room. It was modern and well lit with four comfortable padded red seats around a big table and an expensive looking tape machine was attached to the wall. There were also two video cameras on opposite walls, positioned to record all people seated on any side of the table. Dean sat down and waited. After five minutes the door opened and Detective Sawat Deewat walked in holding a briefcase.

  “Hi Dean. I’m Detective Sawat Deewat, but you can call me Sawat or, as my friends back in England always used to call me, Si” he said, in a posh but strong Liverpool accent and offered his hand to shake.

  “You’re English?” said Dean. “I’m sorry about kicking off before. I was just a bit shocked. Sorry about that.”

  “Well, you are half right. I am half English. My dad is English, from Liverpool. My mum is Thai, from Surin. I was raised in England and don‘t worry about kicking off. I don‘t think anyone likes being arrested, matey.”

  “I’m really happy that they have an Englishman investigating this case. It sounds like a terrible murder and I want to help you find the killer.”

  “Yeah. Well, don’t be too happy Dean. I won’t be doing much investigation. My understanding is that it is pretty much an open and shut case and, to be honest Dean, I’m really not that bothered. I am only doing this job for 12 months to make merit with Buddha, make friends with my dad and save face for my mum. Believe me, you think you have problems!”

  “What!”

  “My life hasn’t been easy Dean. I’m cursed with good looks and plagued by women who get me into more trouble than you would ever believe. So I have sort of been forced into doing this job. It has taken a lot of money and called in favours to get the Detective’s job and I want to be here even less then you do.”

  “Have you ever been on a murder case?”

  “No Dean, this is my first murder
case and, to be honest, I’m only on this one because it is a cut and dried case. My dad has paid a lot of money to have a murder case on my CV, but I‘m not what you would call a career detective.”

  “So, you are not an experienced Detective then?”

  “Yeah. Sorry about that Dean. Shall we start the interview?” Dean said ripping the plastic wrappers from the interview tapes.

  “Yes, sure. I heard that the murdered girl was pregnant. Did they do any tests on the baby to try and find out who the father was?”

  “No Dean. I don’t think they did. I don’t think it was relevant at the time. Maybe they should have done.”

  Sawat dropped the tapes into the slots of the tape machine. He pressed play and after a buzzing sound for a few moments it went quiet and Sawat introduced himself and asked Dean to give his name and date of birth. He then cautioned him and told him that he was now going to interview him for the murder of Miss Pin Pistok, otherwise known as The Flower Girl.

  “Yes, I understand” said Dean, trying to sound as innocent and helpful as he could.

  “Just relax, Dean. We are just going to have a chat. OK?”

  “Yes, that’s fine. I’m just a bit nervous, because I have never been arrested before.”

  “You have never been in trouble with the police before?”

  “No. Never.”

  “OK, Dean. Well don’t worry. I promise I won’t shout.”

  “OK. Thanks.”

  “So then Dean, did you murder The Flower Girl?”

  “No! I didn’t.”

  “But you probably wouldn’t admit it if you did?”