“And you never even thought to ask him where the money came from?” asked Stephanie incredulous.
“It’s not my job,” replied Charles on the defensive. “I work neither with the tax office nor with the police and anything between a client and I does remain privileged information anyway. Moreover, his credentials were such that why should I doubt that he wouldn’t have that kind of money at his disposal? I’m sorry but your family name doesn’t exactly raise suspicions when it comes to assets or liquidity.”
“We accept your offer,” said Sophie decisively. “Let’s know your honorarium for your services. We’re staying at the Lebua State Towers. We’ll be ready to leave for Koh Samui anytime tomorrow. We’ll leave it up to you for our accommodations. Anywhere on the island. Then we’ll use that hotel as our base camp. Can we call you if we need any help once we are there?”
“You won’t have to. I’ll come with you. I was already planning to take a few days off but hadn’t decided as to where. And my father and my grand-father would want me to look after three beautiful women in distress anyway.”
Oh, so very French, thought Sophie, flirting with women in spite of the circumstances. How predictable. Well, no matter, if he was willing, it could only make things easier for them.
“I’ll call you in the morning once everything is set and send a car for you.”
“That’s very kind of you,” replied Stephanie a touch sarcastically. “Thank you for your time,” she added. “We’ll see you tomorrow.”
She extended her hand and so did her sisters behind her.
“Unbelievable!” shouted Lily once the elevator doors shut behind them. “Louis tells him all that and he didn’t think it was weird? A few steaks short of a barbecue, is he not?”
“In all fairness,” retorted Sophie, “it’s not his job to ask questions and it’s all very easy in hindsight. Would we have come to Bangkok asking questions if we hadn’t shared a stupid dream?”
“Wouldn’t we have questioned the money anyway?” said Lily pensively. “Of course it came out of the blue, but were we going to refuse it? We could only guess as to its probable source by knowing his past. Is that something we wanted to delve into and expose one more time? Without the dream, wouldn’t we have just taken the money and run? By the way have either of you told our parents of our new found fortune? No, we didn’t because we didn’t wish to worry them a posteriori for something he could have possibly done. Isn’t that true?”
“You’re right,” concurred Sophie soothingly. “I know for my part I wouldn’t have said anything unless I needed to. I probably wouldn’t have touched it either, at least for a long time. Drug money is always blood money. Yet he wanted us to have it. For once he wasn’t selfish; he looked after us in death as he has never been able to do in life.”
“Don’t make him to be a saint just yet,” said Stephanie. “He did have 2.5 million wired to his own account as well.”
“Oh you’re right! Just think!” interjected Sophie. “By putting money aside for himself, it means he had no intention of dying! It means he had every intention of enjoying that money! Perhaps his generosity towards us was a way of atoning for his sins and buy our forgiveness for everything he has ever put us through? What do you think?” Lily replied as the doors opened onto the street.
“I think this discussion should be continued around a good bottle of wine or a few cocktails. Let’s go back to the room and put everything we know together and then try to come up with a sensible scenario.”
They automatically changed into their nightgowns and Sophie ordered some food, a round of Mai Tais and a bottle of Chardonnay. Stephanie sat down to take notes. She divided the blank page into facts and suppositions. Meanwhile, Lily took a few minutes to call home and ask her housekeeper to look at the stamped date and place on the back of the postcard from Thailand stuck on her refrigerator. She noted both of them and as an afterthought asked her to also look on her desk at the miniature coffin she had received the preceding Christmas and check for markings of any kind.
“A double P,” replied a housekeeper. “One is slightly bigger than the other. Something like Samui is also stamped on the back in tiny characters.”
They were definitely on the right track. Two hours later, after many arguments and a few laughs as well, they had reached similar conclusions: they had adored their brother yet there was no doubt he had tainted their childhood. In that regard, he did owe them in many ways and through the money he gifted them he somehow repaired the tort. The elaborate deal he had to strike for the money to reach them proved he could not have been high on drugs; he had made the decision to make everything legally binding which required forethought. In their experience, drugs tended to make him incredibly selfish and self-centred, not thoughtful and generous. However, if he was not involved with drugs, how else would he have come across such a tidy sum? Or had he somehow stolen the money? The sisters knew little about the drug world except what they had read in newspapers and novels and in movies. However they could easily reach the conclusion that stealing drugs from an underworld figure could only end in catastrophe: it could explain Louis’s cautionary tale to the lawyer. Moreover, Louis had never shown great ambition, always confident in his lucky stars, convinced that somehow, at the end of the day, everything would take care of itself. In their opinion, if he had stolen 4 million dollars, he would have played in the big league indeed. Dispatching the money through a lawyer though showed both foresight and minute planning, two skills they did not know he had. They agreed that something ominous had prompted him to take such cautionary steps he had taken. He must have known he was playing with fire to indulge in such precautions, but then why set money aside if he did not believe he would live to enjoy it? That last part did not make any sense whatsoever. Finally, too exhausted to continue extrapolating, they kissed the day and each other good night, wishing that the mysterious island of Koh Samui and the next day would bring them closer to the answers they sought.
Chapter X
Koh Samui
A soft rap at the door woke up Sophie, who had been lying in bed with her eyes open, mulling over the previous day’s conversation. Softly, not to wake her sisters, Sophie slipped out of bed and walked to the door to retrieve The Bangkok News which had been slipped under the door. A sealed envelope laid on top. Cluny was scrawled on the hotel stationary. She opened the envelope. Their itinerary specified that a limousine driver would pick them up around 11:00 am in the hotel lobby to drive them straight to the domestic airport. Bangkok Air, flight 559 was departing at 12:30 pm for Koh Samui. Three rooms had been reserved in their names at the Chaweng Regent hotel. Charles also mentioned he’d be waiting for their arrival. Gosh, thought Sophie impressed by the rapidity of his intervention, he must have taken a flight at first light. How thoughtful of him, but guilt had a way of motivating people, didn’t it? She knew it was unkind of her but she still resented the fact that her brother’s words had not raised a red flag for the otherwise seemingly worldly lawyer. With coffee percolating in no time, her sisters, drawn by the pungent aroma, emerged one after another. Sophie, after dropping three Berocca in three chilled glasses, smiled like a Cheshire cat.
“Well,” she announced, “I hope you’re feeling perky this morning. Since it is already 9 in the morning, we’ve about two hours to pack our bags and check out. Charles is sending us his driver to take us to the airport. It seems that he has reserved our hotel in Koh Samui and will be there waiting for us. We should be able to bury our toes in the legendary white sands of the island about 2:00 pm at the latest. How is that for an organisation? How did you sleep?”
Stephanie and Lily murmured a barely audible ‘okay’ and sat down at the dining room table facing the sprawling city covered in grey smog.
“What is this?” asked Lily after gulping down her Berocca. “Not bad.”
“It’s a lethal combo of Vitamin D and C and Guarana. I always take them with me when I travel as it wards off fatigue, jet-lag and diseases. At lea
st that’s what I’ve noticed and in my case, it has worked wonders for the past 10 years,” replied Sophie easily.
“Probably where you get all that bloody energy from,” muttered Stephanie under her breath.
“More coffee anyone? Otherwise we’ve plenty of time to go downstairs to Starbucks and have a decent latte and a croissant if you’d like. How long will it take either of you to shower, dress and pack?”
“Under one hour for sure,” Stephanie assured her.
While Sophie and Stephanie took their showers, Lily perused the paper and skimmed through the magazines left at their disposal. A sort of traveller’s guide showed photos of the island of Koh Samui and it looked paradisiacal indeed. How could her brother’s death be associated with such an idyllic place, she wondered for the umpteenth time?
By 10.30 am, they had checked out. With their luggage packed at their feet, the three young women ordered ice cappuccinos and lattes at the downstairs Starbucks. They had attempted to tell the concierge where they were heading in case the limo driver showed up early but the language barrier had stopped them in their tracks. They figured they had plenty of time and that he could wait, just in case. At 11:00 am sharp they were standing in front of the heavy brass and glass doors, when a long black limousine pulled up in the driveway. A young man, in impeccable uniform, approached Lily, bowed deeply and asked her whether they were the Cluny family. He then opened the door and told them to make themselves comfortable. They watched him take their bags and lock them in the trunk. Once seated, through the intercom, he asked which sort of music they would prefer listening to and in unison they replied ‘classical’. Fresh orange juice and icy water stood in crystal jugs and the sisters helped themselves, pleased by the small touch. On the way to the airport, they commented on the scenery, yet none of them ever picked on the same details. When they pulled up at the airport 45 minutes later, their check-in could not have been easier: after respectfully requesting their passports, the driver took care of the rest. They were then whisked away in a small golf cart all the way up to the gate. The trip lasted barely one hour. When they started their descent through extra fluffy meringue-like clouds, their excitement grew at the sight of emerald green jungle daintily edged by white sand beaches. They landed in what could only be described as a charming small regional airport; there was nothing more to the baggage claim than a thatched roof with all sides opened to the elements. It reminded Lily of the only holidays she had taken with her husband in Jamaica all those years ago. The heat though took their breath away once again. A four-wheel drive emblazoned with the name of their hotel was parked near-by and once they had retrieved their bags, they automatically walked towards it. A young man stomped out a cigarette on their approach, bowed with a smile and took out the A4 card lying on the hood in front of him and showed it to them: it had their first names scrawled unto it and with a nod of the head they indicated it was them indeed. Swiftly he took their luggage and opened the doors. Thankfully he had left the motor running and the icy air conditioning cooled their beaded brows.
“Hotel very nice,” he said, attempting conversation. “First time in Koh Samui?”
“Yes, it is,” replied Lily amiably.
“You American?”
“No, we’re French.”
“Oh, French people nice, saswadee in my country.”
“Thank you,” replied Lily amused.
A few minutes later, the hotel’s traditional architecture welcomed them. A path flanked by ponds filled with colourful koi and floating lotus flowers led to an open inverted T-shaped reception area with a long check-in desk on one side and a concierge’s on the other. Small tables with comfortable chairs displayed small orchid’s arrangements. Upon arrival, every guest was handed a cold jasmine-scented towel to cool one’s hands and neck and a deliciously cold fruit concoction while keys were sorted out and bellboys called to follow in with the luggage. The hotel sprawled past the reception area like a maze of small individual huts, each with their own front porch. Wooden walkways, built a few centimetres off the ground, traversing many small bridges erected over ponds and cascading waterfalls, allowed for passage between the huts. A well-tended jungle of palms and other luscious plants insured utter privacy for every guest. Barefoot staff bearing uniforms of fisherman pants topped by loose orange cotton shirts smiled with gentle obsequiousness as they walked past. They heard little noise outside the sweeping of pathways, the song of birds and the muted voices of children, undoubtedly playing in the hotel pool.
Charles had reserved three superior rooms, all in a row, on the far side of the resort, close to the spa but far away from shared amenities to ascertain they would not be bothered by other hotel guests. They were barely ten feet away from the beach. They entered their room through a platform terrace opening to double bay windows. Their front door faced the beach at an angle, with an eye to privacy both from other guests and from revellers on the beach. For the three weary young women, it was the ideal configuration. In each room they found an elaborate basket of exotic fruits with a note inviting them to join Charles for a cocktail at the beach bar around 6:00 pm. Relieved not to have to face him just yet, they were quick to shun their clothes and sport their bikinis, running happily to the shagreen water, finally shedding the dirt, grime and fatigue of the last forty-eight hours.
Wrapped in colourful sarongs, barefoot and in bikini tops in all variations of blues to highlight the various shades of their eyes, the three sisters met Charles at the bar, the latter dressed in a short-sleeved muted Hawaiian print shirt and knee length shorts, a far cry from the elegant business suit he had sported the day before. Charles was absurdly proud to be seen in the company of the three women and all eyes were on the small party, perched high on the stools of the beachside bar. They ordered a round of Mai Tais while Charles sat with his Bombay gin and tonic. Sophie was first to break the ice.
“Thank you so much for the reservations. The rooms are beautiful and this place is truly enchanting. It’s hard to imagine that we’re here for such a sinister purpose…”
Lily, loath to spoil the mood, questioned him instead.
“Mr Ferguson, reception refused to take our credit card imprint, do you know why?”
Charles cleared his throat.
“I’m glad you like the place. I used to come here with my wife before she passed away and I remembered it fondly…Please call me Charles, by the way. We aren’t in the office, are we now? And as far as the bill is concerned, don’t worry about it. Your brother had paid handsomely for my meagre services, and it’s the very least I can do. To tell you the truth, it eases my conscience somewhat, as I feel just terrible not to have sensed there might have been a problem. The urgency and the lack of face-to-face meeting should have triggered alarm bells and it didn’t.”
“So what do we do next?” asked Stephanie always practical and caring little about the lawyer’s latent remorse.
“I arrived here late last night and called upon the island’s Chief of Police, an old friend of my wife. He said he remembered the incident. It was kept quiet from the media to preserve the tourist’s industry; it had not made the Bangkok papers and hence that’s why I hadn’t been made aware of it. He confirmed that a young foreigner had been found in the jungle, with a dozen snakebites on various parts of his body. They didn’t proceed with an autopsy on the island simply because they don’t have a local forensic medical examiner. The body was pronounced dead at the scene due to natural causes and sent to Bangkok to be later repatriated. The body had been found near an empty jeep, on a mountain trail, remote enough not to be found immediately, but not sufficiently hidden never to be found, if you know what I mean. The doctor who examined it placed the time of death at around 10:00 am on the 14th of July. It was airlifted to Bangkok that very same day…”
“Indeed,” interrupted Stephanie, “our parents received a call on the morning of the 14th in Paris, so the timing works out. I can feel a but coming, though…” she added as she stared intently at the lawy
er’s face.
“After a few drinks,” resumed Charles avoiding her penetrating gaze, “and trust me, the Thais can drink, he admitted to me that he thought the whole thing a bit strange. It’s true that there are plenty of venomous snakes on the island and the fact is not well publicised for obvious reasons, lest it scared off the tourists, however, it’s rare for someone to suffer multiple snakebites. Snakes don’t travel in packs and they have no reason to bite their quarry repetitively.”
Sophie blanched.
“What are saying?” she asked, her voice shaking audibly. “Louis would have been forced somehow to sustain multiple bites until he died?”
Stephanie and Lily looked at her horrified.
“I’m not sure,” confessed the lawyer. “I agree that it does not make sense.”
“But the death certificate stated the place of death as Bangkok not Koh Samui, why is that?” interrupted Lily.
“A question of protocol I suppose since the forensic examiner was in Bangkok where the body was prepared for embalming to be shipped back to France,” replied Charles. “But I agree that it seems somewhat unusual…” he added reflectively. “I’ll call my office tomorrow and ask them to make some inquiries as to the protocol. My late wife’s friend also said that at the time he had checked whether there was a next of kin to alert. He also checked all the hotels, camping grounds and motels on the island but your brother had not registered in any of them. Unless he used a fake passport to register, he wasn’t staying at any of them.”
“So where could he have stayed,” wondered Lily aloud. “The only other explanation would be that he stayed with friends, friends with a house on the island.”
“And the jeep?” asked Lily. “Did they check the registration? The license plate? Who did it belong to?”
“I asked the same question,” replied Charles, “it was a rental car, leased from a place at the end of the main road here. And according to him the paperwork was so sloppy as to be unable to check who had rented it. Normally you need a valid driver’s license, but they could not even find a photocopy in their files. I’d say it was done the Thai way.”
The Samui Conspiracy Page 21