by Ben Ezzell
The tuk-tuk had dropped them at the front of the Night Bazaar building where a broad set of steps led up to the first level. To each side of the center stairs, a narrower staircase led down to the half-sunken basement level. As always – any time between noon and midnight – the Night Bazaar was busy with throngs of people as a random mixture of Thais and tourists went about their various affairs.
Off to one side, a lodi wagon was serving the hot pastries as quickly as the vendor could prepare them. Off to the other, a sidewalk stand was offering an assortment of CDs and cassette tapes that would make even a stateside Wherehouse Store jealous.
“Go ahead, Bob,” Rosalyn patted her husband’s arm. “We’ll be fine.”
“Thank you, my dear,” Bob wai’d, smiling. “Shall I meet you somewhere later? Or back at Baan Orchid?”
“Oh dear,” Rosalyn hesitated. “Maybe Baan Orchid would be best? But do be careful?”
“Of course, my dear, of course. Ladies?” he wai’d again, then turned walked away, weaving his way through the milling throng.
“Are we missing something?” Joan asked. “I mean, it’s none of our business certainly but…”
“Oh, nothing like that,” Rosalyn assured them. “But he is up to something. I’ve been married to that man for thirty years and I know when he’s up to something.”
“But you didn’t ask?” Tanya sounded puzzled.
“Of course not, dear. What good would that do? I could ask and he wouldn’t tell me or I can not ask and he still won’t tell me. Which would you do?”
“Dear James was like that sometimes,” Joan remembered. “I suppose that all men are. Not that they’re likely to change. I can remember times …” Uncharacteristically, Joan let the thought trail off in silence.
“Well then,” Tanya queried, “what do you do about it?”
“Nothing at all, dear,” Rosalyn sounded surprised, then added, “Of course, sometimes I don’t tell him everything either. So, shall we go shopping?”
DragonTree.com Contents
Chapter Fifteen:
Chapter Fifteen:
TAT offices, Chiang Mai, Wednesday, February 7th, 7:52 PM
“This is most generous of you, Inspector. I thank you most kindly.” Bob nodded respectfully.
“Mai pen rhy, krahp,” the Inspector responded. “Kun Virnol will be ready presently. May I remind you, no action is to be taken by you? If you find what you seek, Kun Virnol will do what action appropriate.”
“I understand completely,” Bob smiled. “Too old for a dust-up anyway. However, I take it you haven’t found anything interesting yet?”
“We are looking into matters, krahp.” The Inspector’s expression made it clear the response was a formula and intentionally non-committal.
“Well then, yes. I’ll wait for Kun Virnol outside. Sawat dii, kahp.” He wai’d from the door.
“Sawat dii, krahp,” the Inspector agreed, rising to return the wai.
Waiting until his visitor had left the building, Inspector Taskin reached for the phone, dialing a number from memory.
“Hallo, United States Consulate. Sawat dii, ka,” a voice answered.
Old City, Chiang Mai, 7:59 PM
“Iron Butterfly, kahp?” Bren asked unnecessarily, the neon sign over the entrance painting his face in unnatural shades.
“Teenee,” the samlor driver gestured. “Iron Butterfly, kahp! You wish wait, mai kahp?” he accepted the green twenty-baht bill.
“Sure,” Jeffery agreed, then to his companion. “Well, looks interesting. Shall we?”
Night Bazaar, 8:12 PM
“Well I don’t know. That’s 500-baht, right. Don’t you think that’s awfully expensive, Tanya? I mean it is nice but what’s 500-baht in dollars anyway? I was thinking maybe three hundred but … I just don’t know.”
“It is nice,” Tanya agreed seriously. “But I think you’re right – much too expensive. Rosalyn?”
“See rawy hah sip!” the vendor suggested, punching the new price of 450 on a calculator, then showing it to the ladies. “No expensive, very good, ka?”
“It is nice,” Rosalyn agreed. “I think maybe three fifty. Don’t you think so?”
“Perhaps so,” Joan agreed. “Yes, three fifty would be right. The color is very nice.”
“It does suit you,” Tanya admitted. “But I don’t know. Not at four fifty. There are other vendors, maybe some of them would be more reasonable.”
“See rawy baht,” the vendor reduced the price displayed, subtracting another fifty baht.
“Four hundred?” Rosalyn considered. “That would be sixteen dollars U.S., right? I think we might go that.”
“If they’ll sell us three of them at that price,” Joan agreed. “I think that might be acceptable, yes. Three?” she turned to the vendor.
“Three, ka?” the vendor counted the three ladies for confirmation.
“Ka,” Joan agreed.
“Ah, sahm, ka! Neung pahn, hah sip, ka!” The calculator quickly displayed 1050.
“I believe we just got a quantity discount,” Tanya suggested. “Shall we?”
“Of course,” Joan and Rosalyn echoed each other.
“You bargain good very, ka,” the vendor suddenly spoke much better English. “Very good silk. Which you like?”
Shop near Night Bazaar, 8:23 PM
“Mai, mai, I’m looking for a very good camera. Not one of these cheap hobby cameras. Sure this is fine for a tourist but maybe you can find me a better one? Like I described, yes?” This was Bob’s fifth stop and, he thought, maybe the most promising.
The other shops he’d visited had offered a variety of cameras but each had offered a similar variety – much the same brands and models and similar prices. Here, there were a number of older camcorders on display – some hobby-grade, a few more expensive. And two were the large, shoulder-carried camera used by TV news crews. One of these latter Bob actually gave serious consideration before deciding it was simply too large and too bulky.
Still, here there were more cameras and more variety than anywhere else he’d seen. Further, it was an assortment that suggested that not all of them had been purchased from wholesale sources.
Also, Bob’s request for a high-end camera with wide-angle and telephoto-zoom lenses – he’d been emphatic about his requirements without being so specific as to engender suspicions – had been met with careful attention … and the suggestion that it might be possible to fill his requirements.
“Tell you what,” Bob considered. “I’ll look around for a while. Have a drink maybe? All this talking makes a man thirsty. And you think about it – I’ll come back later and you can tell me what you have. Okay?”
“Kahp! You come back soon. I find good camera,” the vendor assured him. “Sell to you cheap, kahp.”
“Kahp! Well, let’s find a beeuh,” Bob addressed his companion. “Mai kahp?”
Jack’s #5, 8:35 PM
“Well, it’s up to you, Tanya,” Rosalyn advised, sneaking a glance at the man at the bar. “I mean, he is kind of cute.”
The man in question was roughly Tanya’s age and maybe five inches taller than the girl. A stocky build with broad shoulders, he was dressed neatly – levis, a knit shirt and sandals – and wore his dark hair long, gathered at the neck by a simple band. There was nothing ostentatious about his dress – no elaborate jewelry, no expensive watch – but he appeared comfortable. When he had first come in, taking a seat on one of the bar stools, he’d asked for a beer, speaking with a strongly Australian accent.
And it had been Tanya who had joined him at the bar for conversation, only later bringing him over to meet Rosalyn and Joan. “David Stillwell,” he’d introduced himself, adding that he was an actuary from Melbourne and that he was on holiday. His pronunciation – “mel-born” – earned a quick glance from Joan but she only smiled, saying nothing.
Subsequently, after a few minutes casual conversation, David invited Tanya to go dancing – invited the entire group actuall
y – then retired to the bar while the ladies discussed the question.
“Of course,” Rosalyn continued, “you might ask if he has a friend for Joan. I’m married so I guess I should sit this out.”
“You can just leave me out of this, girl,” Joan laughed. “I’m quite too old for chasing young men in tight pants. But he is cute. Reminds me a little someone I knew once though. Looked a lot like that in his football uniform. Nice buns. But you enjoy while you’re young.”
“Yeah,” Rosalyn agreed. “But, remember, be careful while you do it, too. And you know what they say about Aussies, don’t you.”
“Are you sure, Rosalyn? That he’s an Aussie?” Joan questioned softly. “Not that it matters, of course. You go on, dear, and have fun. Don’t mind us, we’ll be fine.”
“I don’t know,” Tanya hesitated. “My boyfriend …”
“Is at least two thousand miles away, right?” Rosalyn ignored Joan’s comment. “So, you don’t tell Bob and I won’t tell your boyfriend, right?”
“Well, we’re only going dancing. No harm in that.”
“That’s right,” Joan agreed. “No harm at all. But be careful anyway, right?”
“They make a nice couple,” Rosalyn commented, watching as Tanya and David left. “They do move well together, don’t you think?”
“Yes, they do,” Joan agreed thoughtfully, if with uncommon brevity.
Shop near Night Bazaar, 9:03 PM
“Very nice video camera, very expensive but I make you good price, kahp?”
“I don’t know,” Bob hesitated. “Let’s see if it works first. Hey, yeah, it’s got a tape cartridge in here already. Batteries look a little low though.”
“Have battery,” the vendor assured him. “Fresh battery.” The vendor removed the battery pack from the camera, replacing it with a new one. “Here, you try now, kahp.”
“Hum,” Bob rewound the tape, then hit the play button, watching though the viewfinder. “Yep, seems to work very well. Not damaged at all. Kun Virnol? I do believe this is the one.”
“Jahp goom, kahp!” the plainclothes police officer addressed the vendor – You are under arrest!
Outside Iron Butterfly, 9:12 PM
“Look,” Bren protested. “I just said that he was cute. I wasn’t suggesting a sandwich!”
“Fine, but remember,” Jeffery sulked, “we’ve talked about this before.”
“We’ve talked about everything before,” Bren sounded tired. “Quit acting so jealous – all we’ve been doing is dancing …”
Street outside Night Bazaar, 9:43 PM
“Baan Orchid, kahp,” the tuk-tuk driver nodded. “Forty baht, no problem. I take you.” He extended a card identifying himself. The English portion read “Pronkiat Signhaseni – Tour Guide” with a phone number at the bottom.
DragonTree.com Contents
Chapter Sixteen:
Chapter Sixteen:
Baan Orchid, Chiang Mai, Wednesday, February 7th, 10:52 PM
“Sarah? Are you asleep? Silly question, of course you aren’t.”
“Please, come in, Joan. No, I was just … just playing with the soma blocks. And thinking.”
“You like puzzles, don’t you? I remember you used to like jigsaw puzzles but I suppose … Well, you were young then.”
“And you sent me jigsaw puzzles for years. Yes, I remember. And Uncle Phil was always giving me puzzles. I think he liked them even more than I did – that I was just an excuse for him to try them. I remember one time he gave me a huge collection of wire puzzles for my birthday. Except it was days late – I think it took him that long to figure them all out first.” Sarah smiled at the memory.
“He always did like a challenge,” Joan agreed, returning the smile.
“I must have a trunk full of puzzles,” Sarah confessed. “I kept them all, you know. And the jigsaw puzzles too, of course.”
“You kept those silly things,” Joan sounded as much pleased as surprised. “After all these years?”
“There haven’t been many things I wanted to keep. But those, yes. I asked Alex to put them in storage for me. And some of Mother’s jewelry. Not that she had much – she never cared for jewelry, really.” Sarah was silent for a moment while she reassembled the cube, then scattered the pieces again, picking up two different pieces to begin.
“I … I like to keep them to remember by. That’s why I brought Mother’s favorite ring … and Uncle Alex’s box. The one they broke …” She suddenly spilled the partially assembled pieces, grabbing a tissue and sobbing again. “He gave me that box … after Mother died … There was a stock certificate inside. For shares in The Greens. He … he said he was giving me a legacy.”
“A stock certificate?” Joan put her arm around the girl’s shoulders, offering comfort.
“Uh huh, a hundred shares. He said it was to add to what Mother held. That he always wanted me to feel like … like The Greens was partially mine. That’s why I kept the box – to remember.”
“What did you do with the certificate?”
“The stock?” Sarah dried her eyes. “I put it with the rest of Mother’s papers. In her – my safe deposit box. Along with the shares I bought since then. Uncle Phil offered everyone who worked at The Greens the chance to buy stocks. He always said that owners were better than employees. But it wasn’t enough – all of them, I mean. Mother’s and mine. It’s only a four or five percent share. They aren’t enough to … to stop Alex.”
“Tell me something? At the restaurant this evening?”
“Yes?”
“Is the food what you argued with Alex about?” Joan asked gently. “I mean, what you said at the restaurant? About the curry paste? It sounded like something that was bothering you.”
“Oh, it’s not the curry paste,” Sarah confided. “The curry paste at the market was fine – I guess it was anyway. And there’s nothing wrong with buying mayonnaise instead of making it or hollandaise sauce even, I suppose.”
“But …?” Joan prompted quietly.
“But serving Canard Glacé Cabernet Sauvignon or Filet de Sole aux Fines Herbs by pulling it out of the freezer and warming it in a microwave … It would be the authentic recipes, of course, but the preparation would be done … somewhere else. A commercial kitchen! I mean, I know some places are doing that but … but Uncle Phil would be furious! At the idea even. He … he’d … I don’t know what he’d do.”
“Except that he certainly would not have permitted it, is that it?”
“Alex’ll ruin The Greens. It isn’t about cost projections or profit ratios. I don’t like the remodeling either but I could live with that. But …”
“I see,” Joan nodded, then, “Of course you left. Nobody could blame you for that.”
“I wanted to fight him,” Sarah sobbed. “But … It isn’t mine. Alex has the controlling shares. I guess he does, anyway. Unless whoever inherits from Uncle Phil decides to fight him.”
“What about Phil’s shares? Who inherits those? Phillip was never married, was he? What do you know about his family? I met his mother once – but that was a long time ago. Funny, I can remember her face …”
“I don’t know. He never said much about family. But, no, of course he never married, you know that. He talked about his brother sometimes – about when they were kids, anyway. But I guess they didn’t get along or something since he never mentioned seeing him. Or talking to him or anything. Oh, he talked about you and James, of course. And about people he knew all over the world but they were usually professionals he knew – chefs at various places or vintners, sometimes. Uncle Phil had hundreds of friends.”
“Did he leave a will? I suppose he must have,” Joan considered. “He was always very careful about things like that. He was really a good businessman, you know?”
“I guess. I don’t know really. I mean, nobody said anything to me about it. Except that Alex mentioned something about being executor for the estate – something about having to appear in probate court. And he’d lea
ve everything to Alex anyway, wouldn’t he? It doesn’t matter, really. I’ll sell my shares – they’re worth a few thousands at least. And when Mother’s condo sells – it’s worth quite a lot now – maybe I can use the money to start my own place. Not in San Francisco though. Someplace new,” the younger woman stood and crossed to the window, pausing for a moment to look out at the darkness.
Joan, uncharacteristicly perhaps, remained silent; leaving the girl to the privacy of her thoughts.
“How do you think a dinner theatre would be,” Sarah suggested, turning back to the room and brightening. “Like what Terry’s friend did here? Not here, I mean, but somewhere there’s good summer tourist traffic. You know, spend six months catering to the tourist trade and then six months off? I could spend the off-season traveling. That would be fun, wouldn’t it? That way, I could find new recipes. Or write cookbooks. Or something – to make traveling a tax write-off?”
11:24 PM
Tahm enjoyed nighttime – when everything was peaceful and he could carve or make something. This was reason come to Chiang Mai – part reason anyway – where study hill tribe crafts, learn carve wood in old style.
Father say Tahm should be engineer – work for Thai Telephone like Father.
Tahm have engineering degree but not want be engineer – want be artist – and work Baan Orchid leave Tahm plenty time to carve. Maybe, Tahm think, some day Father understand – some day when Tahm famous artist.
But that someday – right now, there broken piece to fix.
It was clean break – across neck. He fitted head back in place. The wood was very hard and had broken, not splintered. Maybe he could fix. He would have to make a way to clamp it while glue set. Very tight but padded, yes.
Then, give glue long time to set. Then, maybe, he could polish out mark. And oil wood.
But he would do new carving too. Because this one break and, even after fix, he would still know.
Tahm stroked the wood, apologizing, remembering the sketches he’d made with Plah modeling Mam’s hill tribe costume, enjoying the feel of the wood.