I couldn’t have been more wrong. Although the Thai fighter’s short stature meant that he took a lot of punches to his head and upper torso, he didn’t seem bothered by them and the Nigerian eventually wore himself out. The fight was decided on mental alertness, courage and physical strength. When the Thai fighter got the upper hand he was ruthless and didn’t let up his attacks until the Nigerian collapsed.
The public roared and shouted, “Ma Boxer!” I later learned that his name did actually mean “boxer dog”. After the match we returned to the Toyota but the exit roads were clogged with cars and taxis. Hundreds of people were attempting to flag down taxis, but many decided to compromise and got into cramped minivans. Two cars ahead was a Mercedes, a recent model. The door opened and a girl got out, wearing high heels and a short skirt that showed her nylon stockings. She was clearly a hooker. She approached our car and knocked on the driver’s window. When Nid rolled down the window I recognized the hooker as Yayee. They talked in Thai and I couldn’t understand, but Nid explained that Yayee was with her Chinese customer and was inviting us for a few drinks at a nearby bar to wait for the traffic to ease. The Mercedes made a U-turn and we followed it until it stopped in a residential area in front of a local restaurant that had tables set up in a garden.
The Chinese man introduced himself as Bao Shen. He seemed a shy and introverted type, and when Yayee spoke Thai with him he just nodded. He said very little as we three talked, and he was scrutinizing something on his large smartphone. Yayee explained that he was an app developer. It wasn’t until later I learned he was checking his earnings from this evening’s match. I feel a bit scared of Bao Shen. The morning after we’d met him, Nid told me “I’m sure he’s some sort of mafia figure.”
I just laughed it off. “No,” I said, “he’s an app developer, Yayee explained it to me last night.”
“Do you know what this app is for?” asked Nid. “It’s related to gambling on Thai boxing, and the jails here are full of gamblers – it’s illegal in Thailand!”
Nid packed her travel bag to get herself ready for her regular job, having already changed into her uniform. After she left, I thought it a good idea to try and get some information about the Chinese guy, and I used the hotel’s internal phone system to call his room. Yayee answered the phone. “He’s still asleep, but come over now and I’ll make you some coffee,” she said.
Yayee opened the door wearing a waitress uniform and guided me over to a huge dining table. “He likes a Chinese-style breakfast,” she explained, pointing to the bowls she’d prepared for him that were filled with steamed buns stuffed with meat, noodles and chopped scallions, as well as pickled mustard and some other items I didn’t recognize. She poured me a cup of hot coffee and it wasn’t until I was on my second cup that the Chinese guy came out, unshaven and wearing a bathrobe. He clearly wasn’t a happy early riser. After he’d slurped down his noodles, I handed over the file of photos of the boiler-room operator. He studied it with an expressionless face.
“Your friend?” he asked.
“No, just someone I have unfinished business with,” I replied.
“I don’t know this man,” he said abruptly as he handed the file back to me. When I returned to my room I went through the file again and decided to stake out the boiler-room office building the next day.
I found a coffee shop opposite the office entrance. The place was occupied by Thais and foreigners focused on their laptops, tablets and smartphones. Without a device I didn’t blend in very well, so I made a mental note to bring one with me the next time. I figured I could even record anyone of interest with a webcam if needed. Through the corporate investigator I knew the boiler room was on the top floor, but it seemed impossible to distinguish between the boiler-room employees and the other office workers. I had to find a way of figuring who the boiler-room staff were and decided to return the next day.
Bao Shen
As soon as the American left I phoned my uncle to tell him what had happened. He listened and told me to find out more details. I thought that Yayee might have more information so I sat her down to talk. She explained that the American wasn’t one of her customers, but she’d managed to get some money out of him by humiliating a farang in Pattaya. I smiled when she told me how much he’d paid for it. Tony wasn’t just another sex tourist, he was here for another purpose. I couldn’t quite wrap my head around him, but his inquiries about my competition and the money he gave to Yayee just to humiliate another farang piqued my interest.
Yayee
Although I didn’t understand much Chinese, I understood that Bao Shen was talking to someone about Tony. Bao Shen bowed several times, even though only speaking on the phone. I realized the other person must be very important and wondered what the conversation was about. It seemed that Bao Shen hadn’t been entirely truthful with Tony when he denied knowing the person in the photo. Bao Shen then sat me down and asked me lots of questions about Tony. This made me even more confused and uncomfortable as I didn’t want to be in a position where I had to favour one over the other.
Tony
I’d been hanging around the coffee shop for several days. I’d observed that the boiler room had two crews who operated in separate shifts – most likely due to the time difference between Bangkok and the United States. This helped me separate the normal office workers who all ended their working day at around 5 or 6 pm from the boiler-room staff who arrived and finished during the shift change later in the day. Almost every evening I saw a young Caucasian guy wearing a sun cap and with bad acne scars on his face entering the building. He always came in at around 8 pm and never left before 2 am. One evening I watched him as he spoke to another westerner. When the older westerner pointed a finger in his face the young guy didn’t react and looked uncomfortable. On closer inspection I recognized the older one – he was the man in the photos that the corporate investigator had given me. It was Hubert, the owner and operator of the boiler room.
12
Chapter 12
Bao Shen
My uncle made some inquiries with relatives in the United States about the American. We Chinese are everywhere, you know, and if we don’t know someone in a particular country, a friend or a friend-of-a-friend will. Some unknown person in the United States punched in the name and passport number that Yayee had acquired from the check-in counter. Through that my uncle found Tony’s social-security number, which in turn gave my uncle access to a lot more data. I received an emailed dossier on the American. He turned out to be a military officer who’d been in the army for over twenty years and had been discharged quite recently. It didn’t seem likely that an officer honourably discharged only a short time ago could be part of the gang that had copied my app and stolen my customers. My curiosity got the upper hand. I asked Yayee to invite the American up for a drink and another talk. This time I told Yayee not to wear the short-skirted waitress uniform, since Yayee had made it clear that this wasn’t to Tony’s taste as he was only into real girls. I ordered baked potatoes, meatloaf and a mixture of lettuce, bell peppers, carrots and broccoli from the kitchen downstairs. Not my favourite food, but I’d seen Americans order it and assumed Yayee’s friend would like it. To be honest, I don’t generally feel comfortable with westerners. When I first met Tony after the boxing match we didn’t exactly hit it off. He must have felt the same when he entered the apartment since he had a somewhat puzzled look on his face. I think we both forced ourselves to be polite, but both relaxed a bit during the small talk over dinner.
“My uncle found out about the man you inquired after,” I said. “He’s my competitor and is also active in online sports gambling. I don’t think I like him. He isn’t playing a fair game.” I wanted to test Tony’s response to determine whether he was in some way connected with my rival app operator.
“You might not like him,” replied Tony, “which is probably all right for you, but I have stronger feelings. I hate the guy. I want to find out what he’s up to and I’ll try to hurt him wh
ere it hurts the most.”
Tony then told me about what had happened, right from when he’d found his dead father through to meeting me that evening. It was a long story, and almost an hour passed before he’d finished.
Finally, I asked, “How are you going to get your revenge?”
“I have no plan for now,” said Tony. “I’m gathering as much information as I can and I’ll see what I can do with it.”
I nodded and thought it over for a while before finally offering my hand. “The enemies of my enemies are my friends. I’m not sure if I can be of any help, but I certainly will help if I can.”
Tony
When I entered Frank Reitz’s office I found the corporate investigator at his desk.
“Take a seat,” said Frank as he opened some files on his computer. “I have something for you. The westerner you saw is called Donald. He’s a language student from New Zealand, although he assumes that role just to obtain a student visa. He probably doesn’t even go to any classes but just pays the tuition fee to maintain and renew his visa. Working on this type of visa is strictly prohibited, but the kind of money these guys earn makes it is easy for them to buy their way out of any problems. Besides, this Donald seems like the number-two guy. You should focus on Hubert the boiler-room owner. If you want, I can get my private investigator to find out where he lives. You won’t get away with doing that yourself though, he’ll spot a westerner on his tail.”
I nodded, understanding my conspicuousness.
“Okay,” said Frank. “Just be patient and wait for my update.”
Nothing much happened over the following days while I waited for Frank’s call. I spent a lot of the time in the rooftop pool, I cleared a backlog of emails and spent a few nights and afternoons with Nid when she wasn’t working at the convenience store. The call came on Monday morning, the following week.
“Let me email it to you,” said Frank. “I have recent pictures of Hubert and his residence.”
I scrutinized the pictures that arrived in my inbox and decided to have a look at the residential building where Hubert was living. Frank informed me that he was on the sixteenth floor.
Speaking to the bored-looking girl at reception, I pretended to be interested in renting an apartment. “Can you show me some units, please?” I asked. She smiled and called someone. A second girl appeared who seemed to be a copy of the first. She also smiled and asked me to follow her to a small meeting room beside the main lobby. She then presented me with a brochure that included a floor plan and a price list.
The place was a fairly upscale and made up of serviced apartments going for the equivalent of $5,000 per month for a fifteen hundred square foot condo. The rent included housekeeping, maintenance and cleaning on a daily or weekly basis, depending on the contract. I asked if there were any units available on the fifteenth, sixteenth or seventeenth floors. She typed on her keyboard and said yes, there were a few units available on those floors.
After disappearing somewhere for a short while she returned carrying a keyring with labelled room keys. We took the lift, which had a security camera inside, up to the sixteenth floor. Walking out into the lift landing on that floor, I saw several more security cameras that observed the whole floor, including the front doors of the condo units. I imagined that somewhere in the building a security guard was sitting in front of multiple monitors.
Just over halfway down the landing I spotted the condo number that Frank had emailed to me. I was taken to view a condo unit that was two doors away from it. After the sales girl showed me the unit I inquired whether there was a better view from the seventeenth floor. I made a mental note as we passed by Hubert’s room. I thought I should try to get a unit as close to Hubert’s as possible on the floor above. Like the sixteenth floor, the seventeenth was also littered with security cameras throughout the landing. None of the two available units on the seventeenth floor were directly above Hubert’s though, so I also asked to see what was available on the fifteenth floor. The one directly below Hubert’s was available and I liked it even before the girl had unlocked the door. This unit, which was decorated in an Art Deco style, contained a living room, kitchen and two bedrooms. The girl explained that the minimum rental period was three months, and I’d need to pay a one-month deposit and month’s rent in advance. When we got back to her office I signed the lease and handed over my AMEX card. The $10,000 charge worried me a little as I wasn’t used to spending that kind of money. Anyway, it was done and I pushed my financial doubts to the back of my mind. It was Friday and I planned to move in on the Monday morning. Once I’d returned to my current living quarters in Thonglor I gave the office notice that I’d be moving out.
13
Chapter 13
Nid
A farang guy had been messaging me on Tinder. He couldn’t host me in his home and wanted to have sex in a love hotel. I guessed that he was likely a married expat who’d been sent to Bangkok with his family by an American or European company. It was an easy gig and I could do it after my evening shift at 7-Eleven. The guy was waiting for me in a coffee shop, and he paid up as soon as I arrived. We got into a taxi and he gave the taxi driver directions in reasonable Thai, which confirmed my guess that he was an expat who’d been here for a while already.
There are many five-star-style love hotels in Bangkok that usually have large flat-screen TVs for watching porn or playing music. They normally have an indoor Jacuzzi, and some even have an outdoor Jacuzzi or a private pool, although the ones in this district are not generally frequented by farangs. Farangs instead tend to use love hotels – better known as short-time hotels – mainly in the Silom and Sukhumvit areas. The rooms in these short-time hotels are often so shabby that the carpets have partially disintegrated, while the furniture can be described as “authentic vintage”. This love hotel was no different. A sealed plastic bag lay on the bed, containing two clean but well-worn towels and two bars of cheap soap. The farang didn’t seem to mind and he enthusiastically got down to business as soon as we’d showered. He was like Lucky Luke and fired minutes after getting his gun into position. I got fifteen hundred baht for it. Not bad for an assistant at 7-Eleven, huh? I spent only half an hour with him, including the time for the ‘before and after’ showers.
After showering I called the front desk to order a taxi. I was going to meet Yayee for some street food at a place near my home, but my heart suddenly stopped as I left the room. I froze and felt as if I’d been struck by a bolt of lightning. Breathless, I grabbed a door handle to stop myself from fainting. Further down the hallway, a skinny girl was leaving one of the rooms accompanied by a fat Indian. When I finally gasped for air she recognized me and ran over. We didn’t say anything but just grabbed hold of each other and then hugged and kissed. Tukataa touched my face and said “Hi, Nid” and we both broke down and cried like babies. The farang and the Indian just stood there for a while, clearly feeling uncomfortable and unsure what to do. When we just ignored them they both eventually left. I pulled Tukataa back into the room and we sat down on the bed holding each other’s hands. We both began talking at the same time; there was so much to say.
I don’t know how long we’d spoken for when Yayee called telling me to hurry up since she was already at the food stall. When I told her what had happened, she ordered takeaway somtam pokpok with kunio, my favourite dish. She also bought a bottle of Sangsom rum and some Coke before hopping in a taxi to meet us. Tukataa and I were still chatting and holding hands when Yayee knocked on the door. She placed the food on the small table and filled three glasses with Sangsom, Coke and ice. Reception called and told us that our time was up, but Yayee went downstairs and paid for the room until the following morning. That night we all laughed, cried and got drunk. I think it was the happiest night of my life.
Bao Shen
Yayee returned early the next morning. I suspected she’d been a slut and had sucked some farang cock somewhere, which is all right since I’m not into boring good girls. I prefer my girls t
o have a dick and they must be kinky and dirty. But she explained that she hadn’t been with any guys and told me how Nid had been reunited with someone close from her past. I wasn’t that interested to be honest, but I was interested when she told me she’d met Tony downstairs in the lobby and he was moving to a condo in another district. Tony was apparently moving into the same building where our person of mutual interest was living. He was clearly up to something.
“Tony asked me to tell you,” said Yayee, “he wants to talk to you before he moves over there.” A little later I took the lift down a few floors and knocked on the American’s door. He opened it himself and beckoned me inside. He was in the middle of packing, ready to move to his new place, and it looked like he was almost finished.
“We should be allies, we both want to hurt him,” suggested Tony as he showed me a screenshot on his smartphone – it was a list of WiFi networks. “I took this screenshot at my new place. One of these networks belongs to him. Do you see any chance of finding out which one is his and then hacking into it so I can monitor what he’s doing online?”
“That’s easy,” I replied, “but not for me. I’m an app developer not a hacker. I know the perfect person for this job though. I’ll message her.”
Tony
I had to tell Nid to lay off for a while since she didn’t really fit into my new environment. I told her I was occupied with business, which strictly speaking wasn’t too far from the truth. I didn’t want to do anything until Bao Shent the hacker over to my new place. Meanwhile, I decided to pursue the second-in-command of the boiler-room operation. Frank’s file included his address and photo, and I’d personally seen the guy outside the office building while staking it out, so I knew I’d recognize him.
The Second Poison Page 7