“And would that be?” inquired Stephanie curious.
“With cash, under the table, with a solemn promise to return with the proper papers and then turning a blind eye to the anomaly.”
“I still think that it may be worth going back to the place and do some investigating of our own.”
“Sure,” said Charles agreeably. “However, you are a farang, which means a foreigner. You’ll never be told anything remotely interesting, especially without speaking the language. Let me go with you. We’ll have to go in the morning though as the manager follows regular business hours. I’m sure the place is still open but we’ll be told to speak to the manager anyway, and asking too many questions now will only help drive the matter further underground…”
Sophie was ready to order another round when Charles suggested they get dressed instead and go out for dinner to get a feel for the place.
“You’ll enjoy it. The main street comes to life just about now and in my opinion no battle plan can be drawn on an empty stomach. We’ll debate our next course of action over a local meal and decide what we should attend to first.”
The girls agreed. Their stomachs growled and they needed time to digest what they had just been told. They told Charles they would meet him in less than 15 minutes at reception.
The contrast between the relative quietude of the hotel and the bustle of the street in front of them could not have been more vivid. Large numbers of people filled the narrow street, weaving precariously between dozens upon dozens of motorcycles driven at full speed. On the main road through town though, cars and open sided trucks crawled at a slow pace. Music blaring from every shop competed with each other for better visibility. Cafes, bars and stalls of all kinds occupied every inch of the sidewalks. Charles suggested they walk on the left inside, more manageable due to the line-up of beach hotels which did offer a sidewalk of sorts, but the girls wanted to look at the displays lying before their eyes and most were on the opposite side. Everywhere they looked they were solicited and when they politely indicated that they were not interested, the prices came tumbling down. It was hard not to get caught in the game, but Stephanie reminded them that they had plenty of time for T-shirts and souvenirs later and that they had more pressing issues to attend to.
They finally settled on a sports bar with huge TV screens playing different games from different parts of the world. Charles had assured them that the food was decent, the beer cold and that street hawkers were not permitted inside the premises, leaving them free to talk and enjoy the fare. They choose a side table where they could still observe the ever-changing spectacle of the street while leaving their backs carefully turned away from the screens. Watching sports while eating had never been a favourite pastime of theirs, something they admitted they had in common. Lily suggested that Charles order for them and requested another round of Mai Taïs under the reprobating eye of her cadet, who always thought that one drink was plenty enough. She was joined by Sophie and Charles ordered a Shanghai beer.
“Louis would have loved it here,” mused Sophie, “so much activity, such vitality, and so many people from all parts of the world! It’s gawking at its best!”
“Absolutely! And have you noticed how many foreigners strut around with Thai girls half their age? Probably not much older than their daughters?” added Stephanie slightly disgusted. “Are they all prostitutes?” she asked, looking up at Charles.
“Not necessarily,” replied the latter. “They can be what we call ‘holiday companions’ or even qualify as their Thai wives, natives who live here year round or otherwise in Bangkok. In all likelihood, these men support them and come and spend time with them twice a year. They aren’t officially married, of course, since most would have legitimate wife and kids in their country of origin, but they act as husbands whenever they are here on holidays.”
“How disgusting!” repeated Stephanie upon eyeing a particularly young girl in cut-off shorts, an alluring top and too high heels, her arm half way around a stout German man thrice her age. She looked bored and he looked proud. The sight somehow reminded Stephanie of Jade and suddenly agitated she taped her forehead.
“The friend! The friend Louis stayed with, it must be Jade! She must have a house here. If we look for her, we’ll find out where he was staying. Why didn’t we think of that earlier?”
“That would work,” concurred Sophie, “but we only know her first name. That is if Jade is her real name to begin with. Did we bring a photo?”
“As a matter of fact,” said Lily, “I’ve a photo of both of them. When she came to the house with her album, there was one photo I particularly liked and I had it copied before Papa realised it was missing!”
“You did?” replied Sophie incredulously, “And you have it here? How fantastic! That should help.”
“Maybe,” said Lily turning to Charles with a cajoling smile, “maybe we could talk to your friend the Chief of Police and show him the photo? Perhaps he might be able to shed some light on her identity?”
“It’s worth trying,” replied Charles dubiously. “But it’ll necessitate a trip to Nathon, which is the capital of Koh Samui and in a way, the only city in an island of villages. That is where the police offices, immigration, banks and post office are located for the entire island. It isn’t very far but there is no point in going now; everything will be closed. I’ll call him first thing in the morning and make an appointment. Please remember to dress appropriately to avoid putting him on the defensive; demure dressing showing the least possible amount of skin shows respect. Are we ready to go?”
Sophie assented and got up, followed by Stephanie and Lily. Stephanie indicated that she was tired and wished to go back to the hotel.
Sophie and Lily though jumped at the chance to go and test a slice of the nightlife, knowing that Charles would be too much of a gentleman not to accompany Lily back to her room.
“Are you sure you don’t want to go for another drink?” insisted Lily looking at her younger sibling. “When I asked the bartender earlier today for the hip place to go dancing, he told me we should look up the Top Banana…” she declared, smiling in spite of herself at the ridiculous name.
“No, you two go. It has been a long day. Good night, Charles,” added Stephanie turning around to face their companion.
“I’ll go back with you” asserted Charles. “It has been a long day for me as well. Good night Lily, good night Sophie. I’ll contact you in the morning and let you know at what time we might be able to see the Chief of Police.”
As soon as they were gone, Lily walked to the bar and asked directions to the Big Banana.
To her surprise the nightclub was less than a hundred metres away from where they had dinner, practically in a straight line behind them. Arm in arm, the two young women walked down a street now lined with strip clubs vibrating under brash neon signs and blacked out windows. It would have been difficult to miss out the Top Banana: it stood literally up on a platform a few steps off the main road, flanked by the Cow Boy Club on one side and the Juicy Club on the other, each blaring tunes from different bands. Patrons milled from one to the other before settling down at long wooden tables with long bench seats, unless they preferred to perch precariously on uncomfortable stools around small bar tables. In the cacophony, what most astonished the two women was the fact that on the other side of the Top Banana was yet another nightclub, playing techno music with a large stage flooded rhythmically by large coloured spotlights, where a dozen men gyrated on stage mostly with their shirts off. The four nightclubs shared the same bathrooms, a hole in the ground for boys and lidless toilets for girls, mostly without doors and reached only by a small bridge built over dubious-looking ponds of dirty water. The pulsating music on one side seemed to heighten the nauseating smell traveling over the stagnant waters. The two sisters quickly retreated to the front of the Top Banana, where they ordered a cold beer, the state of the bathrooms leaving them dubious as to the level of hygiene practiced behind the bar. They lit a cig
arette and looked around. It was not yet very crowded since it was still relatively early by Thai standards. The Top Banana was pleased to advertise that it closed at dawn. Looking around, the punters appeared to be mostly tourists; according to their demeanour it was not hard for them to guess who were Germans, Dutch, English or Americans. Sophie recognised the unmistakable accent of a few Australians and Lily eavesdropped on a French couple who were looking to score.
When she told Sophie of the conversation, Sophie shook her head and reminded Lily of the Thai zero tolerance on drugs, especially where foreigners were concerned. She proceeded to recount the story of a group of young Australian tourists who had been caught with heroin strapped to their body, now awaiting death sentencing, despite the Australian public’s outcry back home. During their animated exchange, Lily’s eyes were drawn to a very good-looking young Thai man leaning nonchalantly at the bar only a few feet away. His freshly pressed white shirt was unbuttoned at the collar a fraction more than necessary to reveal a hairless chest. When their eyes caught, the young man paled and turned away brusquely. Intrigued, Lily pointed him out discreetly to her sister, who looked him over and shrugged her shoulders indicating that she had no clue as to why he would have reacted that way. When he turned around again, their eyes locked once again and Lily had the distinctive impression that he somehow recognised her. Unnerved, she stood up, walked quickly to the bar and tapped him on the shoulder, before he had time to pay for his drink.
“Do you know me?” she asked confrontationally, forgetting that it was the worst possible way to engage a Thai into conversation.
“Me, no speak English,” he replied, avoiding her gaze.
“Bullshit,” she said as she looked at the pale jade pendant hanging around his neck; it displayed the very same infinity symbol she had seen around Jade’s neck a few weeks before.
“What is it?” she insisted pointing to the talisman.
He slid it under his shirt and looked back at her.
“You look very much like someone I used to know,” he finally admitted in perfectly accentuated English, “but surely I’m mistaken.”
“Do you mean him?” said Lily, her hand shakily removing a small photograph from her wallet. The young man looked at it, visibly blanched and vehemently shook his head in denial.
“No, I made a mistake. I’m sorry,” he answered nervously, pushing back the photo into her hand and standing up after leaving a few bhats on the bar.
He started to leave but his exit was blocked by Sophie, who now stood directly in front of him. Softly, she repeated the question.
“Did you meet Louis? When? Here? He was our brother.”
The young man stood still, shell-shocked, his eyes darting from one girl to the other as if his worst nightmare had just come true.
The two sisters took advantage of his hesitation to grab him on each side, firmly locking their arms in his. It was clear that they were fitter and stronger than the slight built man and unwilling to cause a scene, he followed them unresisting.
“We’ll go somewhere quieter, for a chat,” offered Lily as an explanation.
The young man nodded his acquiescence. They walked back to Chaweng Road and no one gave the threesome a second glance. They saw an empty table at a small, un-crowded bar and moved in swiftly, positioning the young man between the two of them lest he tried to flee. When the barmaid approached Lily asked for three Coronas and turned her attention back to their prey.
“So,” repeated Lily impatiently. “Where did you meet our brother?”
“I’m sorry,” replied the young man, recovering from his shock. “I didn’t expect this. By the way, everyone calls me Cam. Louis was my friend. I met him here on the island. He was here on holidays. A few weeks ago.”
“When was the last time you saw him?” asked Sophie overwhelmed.
“I don’t know exactly. Two, three months ago maybe.”
“Was he here with anyone? How did you meet?”
“Why all the questions? Why don’t you ask him yourself? Why are you badgering me?”
The sisters exchanged a look.
“We can’t ask him,” replied Sophie, her voice catching a little. “Louis is dead. That’s why we are asking you.”
Cam’s surprised reaction would have been impossible to fake. He blanched again so visibly that his honey-coloured skin turned a murky khaki green. His hand shook so violently that, when he went to reach for his half-empty beer, he spilled it all over the table.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” he said, visibly embarrassed, trying to mop it up with the napkins from the stainless steel dispenser set on the table. “That’s impossible,” he finally managed to say.
“Why is that?” questioned Sophie.
“Because the last time I saw him, he was flying back to Bangkok, ready to return home.”
Standing up abruptly, he pushed his chair back clearly indicating that the conversation was over. Once again, the girls exchanged looks, at a complete loss on what to say next.
“Did you hear of a tourist who was found dead a few weeks ago on a mountain trail?” continued Sophie, changing tack, her hand resting lightly on his arm.
“I don’t read the papers,” replied Cam, his face hardening, disengaging his arm.
“Really?” insisted Lily. “Are you aware that there are allegedly many tourists who die of snake bites? It surprised us too, since we didn’t read any such warning in the tourist information pamphlets.”
“I just told you: I don’t read the papers,” repeated Cam stonily.
“Do you know that Louis died of snake bites? At least that’s what the death certificate stated. Do you know he died here on the island?”
“I know no such thing!” yelled Cam, highly agitated. “What are you accusing me of exactly?”
“Nothing,” replied Sophie taken back by his violent reaction. “We’re just trying to piece together his last hours,” she added soothingly.
“I need to go home; sorry I can’t be of more help,” said Cam.
“So do we,” agreed Lily. “It’s late and we’re still jetlagged,” she added soothingly.
“Can we see you again? We’d love to hear about Louis. We hadn’t seen him for almost 9 months before he died. It’d help us mourn him.”
“Where are you staying?” asked Cam automatically, who would at that point have done or said anything to get rid of the two women.
“The Regent. Room 411, 412. Come and have a drink with us tomorrow. Let’s say 8:00 pm. At the hotel bar?”
He nodded his assent but Sophie suspected that he would agree to anything as long as he could get away from their interrogation.
“One more thing. We met a girl in Paris; she said she was Louis’s fiancée. Her name was Jade. Did you meet her?”
“I’ve no idea who that could be,” replied Cam, visibly rattled for the third time.
“That’s strange because she wore a jade necklace just like yours. I remember it quite clearly because it was unusual; a mathematical sign as a pendant is quite memorable. Can I get one like it in any of the stores here? I would love to have one as a souvenir; it’s so unusual and so pretty!”
Caught by the innocent act which seemed to conveniently lead the conversation away from Jade, Cam replied quickly, smiling for the first time, “Oh no, you’d never be able to get one like that! Paul gives it only to his friends or employees…”
Realising too late that he had said too much, Cam brusquely turned away and began to run down the street. He soon disappeared in the crowd. He never made it home.
Bemused the girls had remained seated, incapable to move.
“I think we hit a nerve,” ventured Lily.
“So we need to find out who this ‘Paul’ is; it looks like both of them worked for him: I mean Jade and him. But what is the connection to Louis? What if Louis was working for this Paul character too? Could Paul refer to the double P inscribed on the coffin like box Louis sent us last Christmas? Leap Frog Productions was not paying him any mone
y. He didn’t have any money of his own that we know of. And he managed to leave us a fortune. I’m sure this Paul character is a lead somehow, what do you think?”
“I’m too tired to think,” said Sophie standing up. “Let’s go to bed. We’ll sharpen our pencils after a few hours of sleep. The Mai Tais and beer combination are a killer,” she added smiling, as she stood slightly unsteady on her feet. “What a night!”
They walked back to the hotel in silence, each preoccupied with her own thoughts, each careful not to break her neck on the uneven pavement. In front of their rooms, with a hug and a kiss on both cheeks, they bade each other good night. No sooner were they undressed that they fell into the dreamless sleep of the truly exhausted.
Chapter XI
Truth and Lies
Sophie stood patiently at the reception desk, waiting for a doctor who spoke English. When Dr Somsak Rarak came up to her, he extended an open hand in her direction, shaking it western style and asking what he could do for her. Eyes twinkling with good humour, he stood nearly as tall as her. He was very different from what Sophie had imagined and she was slightly flustered, all of a sudden feeling stupid about being so impulsive.
“I’m sorry for interrupting your busy day,” she apologised. “Is there somewhere we can talk privately?”
“Of course. Follow me. And don’t worry about how busy I am; as you can see it’s still too early in the morning to deal with such emergencies as jelly stings, sun strokes, diarrhoea, sprained ankles, gravel burns and other myriad of plagues which affect the tourists every year,” he replied with a smile.
Down the corridor, he opened the door to a modest office and motioned for her to sit down on the other side of the high gloss teak desk.
“Your English is flawless,” complimented Sophie. “It took me by surprise.”
The Samui Conspiracy Page 22