(1989) The Guest of Honour

by Irving Wallace

Beside Nakorn were Colonel Peere Chavalit and a number of his military aides in full uniform.

  Fingering his goblet, Nakorn addressed himself to Noy Sang. ‘Welcome back to Lampang, Madame President, after what I am told was a successful trip to the United States. Marsop kept me personally informed of the steps you took with President Underwood.’

  ‘Steps I gather you are not entirely in agreement with,’ replied Noy Sang.

  Nakorn feigned surprise. ‘Why do you say that?’

  ‘Because I have learned how you feel about my diplomatic activities,’ said Noy Sang. ‘I had a press conference this

  afternoon. The gentleman from Visaka Journal was forthright in stating he had breakfasted with you, and you made your views on my diplomatic efforts clear. You did not like them.’

  Nakorn frowned. ‘Surely there must be some misunderstanding.’

  ‘Let’s find out,’ said Noy Sang smiling. ‘For one thing, I’m told that you felt I should have been even more generous with the space I allocated to the United States for an air base.’

  Nakorn’s frown deepened, ‘I’m not sure I voiced that dissent. But I’m prepared to voice it now, unless you prefer that we wait until after dinner.’

  ‘I prefer to discuss it now.’

  ‘Very well,’ said Nakorn. ‘The United States needs the large air base as a crucial matter of self-defence, and we need the United States as a powerful partner in our own self-defence. Why deny them what they require?’

  ‘I have not denied them what they require,’ said Noy Sang. ‘The president of the United States is quite pleased with our arrangement. He grasped the point I was trying to make with him. That it was absolutely essential that Lampang not only appear — but remain - an independent state. That too many concessions to any foreign power, even a staunch ally, would weaken our position at home, here among our own people. If the opposition to our democratic ideals, in this case the communists, could show that we were giving up too much precious land to foreigners, rather than to our own people, it would weaken us in our own country where we must maintain control. You can see that, can’t you?’

  ‘Actually, the air base is not my main concern,’ said General Nakorn. ‘Give or take a few thousand acres will not affect our future. Our future lies in the loan you obtained from the United States.’

  ‘So I’ve heard,’ said No Sang, wryly.

  ‘Let me congratulate you on the size of the loan you managed to get from President Underwood. It was beyond my expectations.’

  ‘Thank you, General.’

  ‘It is something I dreamt about and hoped for,’ Nakorn continued. ‘With this money we can modernise our army and acquire new conventional weaponry to give us the best fighting force in this part of the world. Certainly, once the money is spent properly, we will have the strength to attack and wipe out the communist rebels in one concerted offensive.’

  ‘You want the loan to obliterate the communists,’ said Noy Sang quietly.

  ‘Absolutely. There can be no better purpose.’

  ‘You know I disagree with you, General.’

  ‘Disagree with me?’

  ‘On how the loan is spent. I’ve discussed this with Minister Marsop at length. We are not allocating the money to murder communists. We will be spending it on the health, education, and welfare of all our people on Lampang.’

  ‘But the communist threat -‘

  ‘There will be no threat. Marsop is meeting with Lunakul to come to a peaceful agreement that will absorb the reds into the mainstream of our society.’

  Nakorn half lifted himself from his seat. ‘Impossible. They cannot be trusted for one moment. Marsop is too soft for them … Forgive me, Minister Marsop, but you are not a military man and you do not have my experience in these matters. Lunakul and his gang only understand strength, their own and ours. If our president still insists on you meeting with them, Marsop -‘

  ‘I do,’ Noy Sang interrupted.

  ‘- then I should accompany Marsop. The communists know they can’t fool around with me.’

  Noy Sang shook her head vigorously. ‘That would never do, General. Lunakul knows your record and your desires. Your presence would only antagonise him.’ She paused. ‘Marsop is the only one with a possibility to reconcile both sides.’

  Nakorn shrugged. ‘Whatever you wish … I see that they are ready to serve our dinner. That calls for a toast. Colonel Chavalit, will you see that the champagne is poured?’

  The colonel rang a bell that summoned a wine steward. The

  steward was followed by a waiter carrying two chilled bottles of champagne in a glistening silver ice bucket.

  As the first course was being served, the waiter slowly made his way around the table pouring the champagne.

  When the first of the meal was on the table, and the champagne in its flutes, General Nakorn rose, glass in hand.

  ‘Let me offer a toast to President Noy Sang and her remarkable success in America.’

  Noy Sang concentrated on General Nakorn as she brought up her flute to return the toast. All other glasses were uplifted as everyone joined the toast and drank.

  A moment later, Noy Sang heard a gasp and turned in the direction from which it had come.

  She realised that the gasp had come from Thida, that her sister was pale and coughing, and swaying dizzily. ‘ ‘Thida, what’s wrong?’ Noy Sang called out.

  Thida had a wracking fit of coughing. ‘I-I’m choking. I feel sick. I’d better lie down.’

  General Nakorn was instantly on his feet. ‘What is it?’ he wanted to know. He half circled the table to reach Thida.

  ‘I-I don’t know,’ gasped Thida. ‘I’m going to faint.’

  Nakorn grabbed her to support her, and shouted across the table, ‘Let’s get her to the bedroom to lie down. Summon the residence physician!’

  As Nakorn, with Noy Sang’s help, brought Thida to her feet and half carried her out of the dining room, Colonel Chavalit was on the telephone with the military doctor. ‘Come at once!’ he cried out. ‘The general’s bedroom! An emergency!’

  No sooner had he hung up than General Nakorn dashed in.

  ‘Get an ambulance!’ he shouted. ‘We must get her to the hospital immediately!’

  Two hours and twenty minutes later Thida died.

  There had been poison in her champagne.

  While Noy Sang burst into tears, breaking down completely, Marsop tried to comfort her, and General Nakorn rushed off to begin his investigation into the death.

  Noy Sang was dry-eyed and exhausted when, an hour later, General Nakorn returned. He was grim.

  ‘I’ve got to the bottom of it,’ he announced. ‘I myself questioned everyone on the kitchen staff. At last I wrung the truth out of two of them. It was the wine steward who was responsibile. He’s a member of the Communist Party. I hate to have you learn it this way, but all the communists will murder even the innocent to get their way.’

  Noy Sang blinked at the general. ‘But why Thida? What did she have to do with communists?’

  ‘I don’t know. I only know you must have no further hopes of negotiations with them.’

  ‘We’ll see,’ said Noy Sang. ‘I now want to question this communist murderer.’

  General Nakorn raised his hands helplessly. ‘I’m afraid it’s too late, Madame President. I ordered him taken right out and executed. He is better dead.’

  General Nakorn sent them back to the palace from the hospital in a military limousine.

  Marsop closed the glass partition separating the chauffeur from himself and Noy Sang seated in the rear.

  He wanted to speak to Noy in privacy.

  ‘What are you thinking, Noy?’ he began.

  ‘It’s terrible, just terrible. It’s unbelievable.’

  Marsop sat quietly holding Noy’s hand. At last he released her hand, and turned to half face her.

  ‘Noy -‘

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘Noy, it was an accident.’

  Her face expres
sed puzzlement. ‘What was an accident?’

  ‘Thida’s death.’

  ‘I-I don’t understand you.’

  ‘Let me explain,’ said Marsop. ‘During the toast, did you see Thida and me join the toast?’

  ‘I’m not sure. I don’t think so. Since General Nakorn was offering the toast, I guess I was looking at him.’

  ‘Probably,’ said Marsop. ‘But had you been looking at Thida and me, you would know it was an accident.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Remember the old-fashioned way our parents used to toast?’

  ‘I’m not - not sure,’ Noy said falteringly.

  ‘During a toast they linked arms, or rather crossed them, and they drank not from their own glasses but from each other’s.’

  ‘Are you saying -?’

  ‘I’m saying Thida and I laughed and toasted in that old-fashioned way. She held her drink before me, and I held my drink before her. Then we drank each other’s champagne. Her champagne was fine, and I was not affected. But when she swallowed my champagne, she swallowed poison, and she died.’

  It was beginning to dawn on Noy. ‘You mean -?’

  ‘I mean the poison was meant for me. I was the one targeted for death, not Thida. By accident she drank my champagne and it killed her. I was supposed to be dead, not Thida. My drink was meant to eliminate me.’

  ‘My God -‘

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘But Marsop, who would want to kill you?’

  ‘I can’t say for certain. It could be someone who would not want me alive to bargain with the communists. What do you think?’

  ‘I shudder to think of it.’

  ‘Think of it,’ said Marsop softly, and he settled back in the rear seat to await their arrival at the palace.

  *

  The news of Thida Sang’s death reached Washington, D.C., not many hours later.

  It came to Anuthra, Lampang’s ambassador to the United States, and he hastened to visit the Department of State and call upon Secretary of State Ezra Morrison.

  ‘I knew you would want to know as soon as possible of this grave development,’ said Anuthra, ‘since Thida was successor to Noy Sang for the presidency of Lampang. I felt it was an official matter, and that President Matthew Underwood would want to send a representative to the funeral.’

  ‘He certainly would,’ said Secretary of State Morrison. ‘Again, let me convey my deepest sorrow and condolences. I will instantly inform the president of this sad affair.’

  Matt and Alice Underwood were in the solarium on the third floor of the White House, having a drink before dinner and watching the television news when the call came from Ezra Morrison.

  Underwood took the call and signalled Alice to lower the volume of the set.

  ‘Some bad news from Lampang,’ Morrison began.

  ‘What bad news? Does it have to do with Noy Sang?’

  ‘No, not really. Her sister Thida was poisoned at a dinner party and died almost immediately. Noy Sang was right there.’

  Underwood exhaled his relief that Noy was safe, but then was incredulous. ‘Her sister? Tell me, Ezra.’

  Morrison reported what he had been told by the ambassador.

  When he was done, Underwood said, ‘That doesn’t sound like an accident. Are there any other details?’

  ‘Not from the ambassador.’

  ‘How’s Noy Sang taking it?’

  ‘I have no idea, Matt. Not too well, I’d guess.’

  ‘I’d better find out for myself. Can you or Blake phone Lampang for me and get Noy Sang on the line? It’s one in the morning there. If she’s asleep, wake her. I want to speak to her as soon as possible.’

  ‘I can do it,’ promised Morrison. ‘Stand by. I should get back to you in two or three minutes.’

  Underwood hung up and sat staring at the telephone.

  ‘What was that all about?’ Alice called over.

  ‘Noy Sang, the president of Lampang -‘

  ‘Oh, yes, the one you had so much business with.’

  Underwood ignored the jab. ‘She just lost her sister. Apparently intentional poisoning.’

  ‘They’re really barbarians down there.’

  ‘I don’t know the circumstances. I only know that the sister, Thida, was next in the line of succession. Obviously, we’ll have to treat it with seriousness.’

  ‘Another cosy trip for the vice-president?’

  ‘Maybe. I don’t know if Trafford is the right person.’

  The telephone rang, and Underwood grabbed for it.

  There was a rushing sound that usually accompanies overseas phone calls. Then a male voice came on.

  ‘President Underwood?’

  ‘Yes, this is Underwood.’

  ‘I am Marsop here.’

  ‘Hello. I’ve heard the terrible news. How is Noy?’

  ‘You’ll hear for yourself. Here she is. Please hold on.’

  Even at the distance, Underwood could hear her voice soft and clear. ‘Matt, is that you?’

  ‘Noy, I’ve heard the awful news. Is it possible?’

  ‘I know, it’s incredible, but it happened in my presence.’

  ‘Tell me in your own words what happened.’

  ‘Well, it was at dinner in the dining room of General Nakorn’s National Defence Building. He proposed a toast -‘

  Then she went on, brokenly, and told Underwood how Thida had died.

  When she was through, Underwood said grimly, ‘I’m told the poisoning was not an accident.’

  ‘It was and it was not. The poisoning was intentional. But it was an accident that Thida was the victim. It was really meant for Marsop.’ She repeated the circumstances of how Thida and Marsop had drunk each other’s wine.

  ‘Who would commit such a murder?’

  ‘Someone who did not want Marsop to sit down with the communists and bargain for peace.’

  ‘We know how General Nakorn feels.’

  ‘He blames someone else, a wine steward on his staff who was secretly a communist and did not want peace talks.’ ‘Has the steward been interrogated?’

  ‘Only by the general. He was satisfied the killer had been found. He had him executed immediately.’

  ‘Does that make sense to you?’

  ‘I don’t know.’ Noy broke down briefly. ‘I only know that Thida is gone.’ She paused. ‘I didn’t mean to get you involved in this family affair, Matt.’

  Underwood protested. ‘It’s more than a family affair. Thida was your successor. That in itself would be important to us.’ He hesitated. ‘Usually on these sad occasions, we find someone to represent us. My vice-president or Blake or Morrison. But I feel this is more important.’

  ‘It is a small matter to the United States.’

  He leaned closer to the telephone. ‘It is a big matter to me, and a personal one.’ On impulse, he continued. ‘I intend to fly to Lampang and attend the funeral myself.’

  ‘Oh, I don’t want you to go through that -‘

  ‘It’s something I wish, Noy. Something I want to do. I want to give you support. You’ll need it. Take all you can get.’

  ‘You are so kind. I don’t want you to take such a long journey over someone you did not know.’

  ‘I want to do it for someone I do know.’

  ‘If you insist.’

  ‘Yes, I insist. I want to be among those beside you.’

  ‘I will appreciate that. It would give me much comfort.’

  ‘Then count on it.’

  As Underwood hung up, Alice tried to speak to him. But he already had the receiver back in hand.

  ‘Get me Paul Blake,’ he commanded the operator. ‘Wherever he is, find him for me.’

  Alice tried to speak once more, but Underwood held up a hand, ordering her to be silent.

  Seconds later, Blake was on the phone.

  ‘Yes, Matt?’

  ‘You know the news about Lampang.’

  ‘I do.’

  ‘Very well, I’m going
there at nine in the morning to attend Thida Sang’s funeral. Have Air Force One ready.’

  ‘Do you feel this is a wise thing, Matt? I’m sure it is something Vice-President Trafford could routinely handle. You have a long schedule of appointments tomorrow. It would mean cancelling every one. And the press, what about the press?’

  ‘They’re welcome to come along in the press plane. But try to keep the package simple.’

  ‘I can’t, Matt. First thing, I’ll still have to dispatch a plane load of engineers from the White House Communication Agency to install the two special phone systems. And there must be the military backup plane to replace Air Force One if anything goes wrong, and to carry your national security adviser, your military aide, your physician, more Secret Service agents. You’ll be very visible.’ He hesitated. ‘Won’t you reconsider?’

  ‘No, Paul. Do what you have to do, but I’m going. I intend to be in Lampang for the funeral. Get moving.’

  This time Alice was on her feet, and over him.

  ‘Don’t shut me up again,’ she said shrilly. ‘I heard it all, and I say you’re crazy to fly halfway around the world to attend the funeral of someone you don’t even know.’

  ‘I promised.’

  ‘Break that stupid promise. This is madness, chasing after some clever native woman who’s trying to entice you. It’ll look terrible.’

  Underwood glared at his wife. ‘Not if you come along. You’re invited, Alice.’

  ‘That’s ridiculous, going all the way to that hot dump over an affair of no consequence to you, to us, to the country. If you want to be a fool, then be one - alone!’

  In the Press Room of the White House, Hy Hasken listened to

  the announcement by Press Secretary Bartlett. Before he had heard the finish of it, Hasken perceived what it was all about. He came to his feet, eased his body among the other White House correspondents seated behind him, and dashed for the nearest telephone in the rear.

  Using his phone card, Hasken punched out the long-distance number from Washington to Sam Whitlaw’s private line in the main editorial office of The National Television Network in New York City.

  Whitlaw answered immediately. ‘Yeah?’

  ‘Hy Hasken, boss. I’m in the Press Room. There’s just been an annoucement that the president is flying to Lampang tomorrow morning. It’s the funeral.’