by Ben Ezzell
“Make list, krahp,” Inspector Taskin suggested, producing a ballpoint while pinning his flashlight under one arm. “You say what in safe, krahp?”
6:14 AM
“I missed the best part,” Bob complained, watching the tape play back on the small screen. “Not that I got much without lights anyway. Maybe I should get one of those light amplifier lenses.”
“And hope that it happens again?” Rosalyn suggested. “Really, Bob, one of these days, you’d be so busy trying to figure out which lens to use that you’ll miss your own funeral.”
“And that’s bad?” he chuckled. “Oh, I suppose you’re right. Still, the way things are going, if it did happen again, I don’t think it would surprise me. But I guess this isn’t quite what you expected? For a vacation trip, I mean?”
“Well, it’s certainly been different,” his wife crossed and began massaging his shoulders. “And not what I expected? No, it certainly hasn’t been. Not,” she bent to hug him briefly, “that I have any complaints. After all, we could have gone to Barbados with Jim and Louise. And we could be sitting on the beach right now, sipping a mai tai and playing cards. Really, Bob, do you think we’ve gotten that old?”
Years of marriage had taught Bob better than to answer a question of that type. Instead, he reached back with one hand to caress his wife’s cheek.
6:17 AM
Back in the office, with the contents from the safe lying on the desk, the Inspector consulted his notes for a moment, referring back to an earlier entry. “You say previous,” he tapped his pen on the page, “that Kun Tanya Mygent have passport in safe. Not list now, mai krahp?”
“Uh, yeah, that’s right,” Terry realized. “Greg needed a new one and so did Bob and Rosalyn but …” he checked though the items brought in from the safe, “… no, nothing here for Tanya. Speaking of which … Tahm? Did Tanya come in last night? I mean, did you see her?”
“Not see Kun Tanya,” Tahm admitted, looking up from the small camera he was checking. “She not here?”
“No,” Terry blinked. “She wasn’t outside with the rest of us. Would you check her room, please?”
“Kahp,” Tahm agreed before turning to Inspector Taskin. “Camera work dee mak! Have many picture of kamoy,” he offered the camera. “Press button to see each picture, kahp?” He stood and wai’d briefly before exiting.
6:21 AM
“Mai ka,” Plah protested. “No see Kun Tanya, ka. You say ‘geen kow’ to people, have food ready, ka?”
6:52 AM
“You say Khun Rutnin only here three-four day, mai krahp?” Inspector Taskin checked his notes, pushing the plate holding the few remaining scraps of pineapple and papaya out of the way.
“Kahp,” Terry agreed. “Our gardener, Saanpa Kwian, have very sick relative. Go home Mae Sai, grandmother ill, send Kun Rutnin take place while Kun Saanpa not here, kahp.”
“You meet Kun Khun previous, krahp?”
“Mai, not know Kun Khun. Kun Saanpa leave letter, explain leave sudden, kahp.”
“But now Khun Rutnin appear kamoy, mai krahp?”
7:02 AM
“Tanya? I don’t know,” Sarah considered. “She said something about having a date last night but … I guess,” she flushed slightly, “I wasn’t listening. She isn’t in her room, asleep?”
The morning was still early, the sky was full light but Sarah wasn’t feeling very awake. She and Tahm hadn’t been out that late but, after returning, they had been up until two when Tahm had woken Kuhn to take the second shift as watchman. And, of course, they had both been awake for a while after that even though they had been in bed.
“Kun Tanya not in bed,” Tahm confirmed. “Bed not appear use. I ask others. No see.”
7:07 AM
“Tanya? Not since yesterday,” Rosalyn reported, “when Kuhn came in to say she had a visitor. When I looked, she was talking to the young man she met the other night. But you weren’t there, were you? When Joan and Tanya and I went shopping. And you say she hasn’t been back?”
“Apparently not,” Sarah agreed. “Since her bed is still made. Do you know who he was?”
“Oh, yes – he introduced himself – to all of us, I mean. His name was David Stillwell – from Melbourne. They were going dancing. The other night, I mean. I have no idea what they were doing last night, of course. Except,” Rosalyn thought for a moment, “she was carrying a large bag. Not a suitcase, you understand, more like a shopping bag. I think it was one she bought at the market the other night. Oh, I’m sure it’s nothing – you’ve been out on dates when … Well, you say Plah has some breakfast ready? I could certainly use some. Bob dear?”
7:16 AM
“Mai pen rhy, ka,” Mam assured the Inspector. “Kun Tanya ask for passport yesterday. Open safe for her, she take small grabpow teu. Say going out. Have date with friend, ka.” – ‘gra-bpow! teu’ – purse or wallet.
“Not say where go?” Inspector Taskin inquired. “Did she suggest she would be back late? Or not be back?”
“Not ask,” Mam shrugged. “Kun Tanya seem quite happy. Say something about meeting friend. Kun Terry say not come back last night. Think she decide stay with friend, mai ka?”
“One will trust this is so, krahp,” the Inspector wai’d dismissal before opening his cellular phone.
DragonTree.com Contents
Chapter Twenty-Two:
Chapter Twenty-Two:
Tourist Authority of Thailand offices, Friday, February 9th, 9:28 AM
“Krahp, no Saanpa Kwian, have relative Mae Sai, krahp.”
“Kawp khun, krahp,” Inspector Taskin nodded at phone, his attention on note he was writing. Information supplied not unexpected but confirmation necessary. “You check also Mae Chaem, mai krahp?”
“Check entire Chiang Rai Province, krahp. Family Saanpa Kwian live Mae Chaem but say not see Kun Saanpa many week, krahp.”
“Kawp khun, krahp,” Inspector Taskin repeated his thanks, underscoring one note on his pad.
Replacing phone, Inspector Taskin thought for moment, then reached for intercom. “Officer Kowit Kanoontong,” he ordered, fingering camera Tahm had supplied. “Please to send to office, krahp.”
Baan Orchid, 9:47 AM
“Kun Greg? Kun Greg?” Plah tapped softly on the door.
“Huh, yeah. What?” Greg answered sleepily.
“You say wish go market, mai ka?”
“Uh, yeah, right. Give me a minute, kahp?” Greg fumbled for his watch – 9:48. After the uproar the night before, two – or was it three? – hours of additional sleep just didn’t seem like enough.
Maybe a quick shower would help.
Or another nap after lunch.
Tourist Authority of Thailand offices, 9:50 AM
“Copy photograph no problem, kahp,” Officer Kanoontong assured his superior. “Take short time, make copy all station, mai kahp?”
“Dee mak, krahp,” Inspector Taskin nodded. “Also send list of names all province, all station. Want immediate report any information. Any, krahp!”
Baan Orchid, 10:00 AM
“Good morning, Daniel,” Joan chirped. “I take it you have something for me? I do hope I haven’t put you to too much trouble?”
“Kind of you to consider that,” Daniel growled mildly. “Well, I did speak to your friend, Ms. Benson. And she said to tell you that – this time – you owe her. I don’t suppose you’d like to explain that?”
“Daniel, really. Isn’t a lady allowed any secrets? Maybe another time. Now, what do you have for me?”
Joan nodded several times while Daniel offered a synopsis of his findings but she was uncharacteristically mute until he was finished.
“Well,” she considered. “I suppose you could fax copies to me? At the number I sent the faxes to you from? My, that makes an awkward sentence, doesn’t it? But you know what I mean anyway.”
“I will,” Daniel agreed. “Is this all you need? Or are you planning on waking me up again?”
“Now, Daniel,
don’t be petty. It was important and I’ll tell you all about it when I’m back stateside. But, no, I think this is enough for the moment. And do get some sleep, dear. You do sound like you’ve been working too hard.”
Approaching Chiang Khong, Thailand, 10:17 AM
Mai dee mak, Baw grumbled, steering his green Isuzu pickup around slower truck. It was very bad. All thoughts of red sports car were vanished. Dumb bad luck! Because farahng insist not leave offering first time, he reminded himself. Not leave offering offend spirit; spirit make step crumble. Surely important people understand all fault of farahng for not leave offering. If farahng leave offering first visit, they find important item then, not need come back. Not good mock spirit – that why everything go bad.
Soon Baw reach Chiang Khong. Baw leave pickup with friend, hide pickup for present, cross border to Laos. Baw safer there for few week, police not find Baw in Laos. Later Baw come back Chiang Mai.
Police have Khun if not kill in fall. Police have two helper also but not important. Kun Khun not important either, Baw decided.
If Kun Khun die, nothing Baw do help.
If Kun Khun hurt bad, Khun heal in hospital, heal in jail. Nothing Baw can do help now – maybe help later. But not help if police catch Baw.
All because farahng not leave offering – Khun understand. If Kun Khun live.
If die, Khun pee! Ghost! Kun Khun haunt farahng, Baw decide. Across border, in Huay Xai, Baw would make offerings at temple for Kun Khun.
Baw have money from farahng. Dead or in jail, Kun Khun not need money. Farahng angry, karhp! Angry more when Baw say want more money not tell police but farahng pay. Argue much, karhp! Threaten, karhp! But farahng still pay, karhp!
Farahng rich. Let farahng find someone else. Baw not return long time.
Tourist Authority of Thailand office, 10:22 AM
“Inspector? We receive report from Surat Thani Province, kahp.”
“Krahp?” the Inspector looked up from his reports, impatiently tapping the papers with his ballpoint as he waited.
“You ask where Kun Saanpa Kwian found, mai kahp?”
“Krahp!” Inspector Taskin agreed calmly, tapping a little faster.
“Surat Thani report one Saanpa Kwian arrive there two day past,” the Inspector’s subordinate took note of the tapping motion and hastened his report. “Speak to officer, seeking address not exist. Say expect employment Surat Thani. Very emphatic engaged post in province…”
As the officer reported, the Inspector’s tapping ceased, as the tip of the pen began moving in small, slow circles.
“Paw laaoh, krahp!” the Inspector interrupted a moment later. “Tell me, Officer Kowit Kanoontong, I think you are kohn sooun, mai krahp?” – kohn sooun – gardener
Somewhere near border, west of Mae Salong, Thailand, 10:57 AM
“Good morning, General,” the farahng offered a half-credible wai. “Thank you for seeing me.”
“Sawat dii, kahp, Kun Jones,” the man addressed as General offered a chair with a casual wave but did not rise to acknowledge the wai. Farahng typical fool, the General decided, if he think ‘Jones’ name to use. The uniformed man glanced at his own notes where his visitor’s real name was rendered in reasonably credible phonetics. Still, not matter – if man want be called ‘Jones’, that okay.
The indicated chair – set opposite the General’s own – was fan-backed rattan with a simple, dark blue cushion embroidered with an elaborate pattern in gold thread. Between them, a low glass table held a plain lacquered tray with an insulated carafe and two tall glasses.
Below the table, a simple surface of terracotta tiles floored the clearing, creating a space some twenty feet across, surrounded by tall stands of golden bamboo. A soft breeze blew through the clearing, causing the bamboo to rattle softly and carrying a breath of jasmine.
To one side, a stream trickled down the side of a tall outcropping of stone, bamboo growing along its sides and on top. The spring splashed from rock to rock before reaching a small pool, then flowing out, tracing a meandering path across the terracotta floor and running below the table before disappearing again into the bamboo.
The simplicity of the setting was deceptive. The farahng calling himself ‘Jones’ had arrived through a pathway – also tiled with terracotta – taking a scant twenty steps to pass from a carpeted hallway through a glass door in a large building to this seemingly rustic jungle setting. Those twenty steps, however, were only the shortest part of his journey.
The first step – after getting back to his hotel and getting dry clothes – had been a phone call to San Francisco, followed by a second to New York.
Luckily, the time differences had been in his favor and he reached New York a little after six in the evening even though it was five AM locally.
The second step – and the longest in a purely physical sense – had been the hundred-twenty kilometer drive from Chiang Mai to Mae Salong. He’d have slept if he’d been able but sleep – even aided by exhaustion – was elusive.
Had he forgotten anything? Surely not. This was what he should have done in the first place – subtly, that was the key. He’d been wrong to use the direct approach. Not only because his attempts had failed twice – no, three times – but because this was a better way. This way, the Thai police would do all of the work.
He should have seen it sooner. After all, there were warnings posted everywhere. Well, maybe not everywhere but there were enough. There’d been posters at the airport, warning literature … all pretty obvious, really.
And he’d be the one she’d call – right? Or Joan Maguire would call – that was just as good.
In any case, once the police had done their part, he could step in and – after a suitable negotiation – rescue her. At least, he assumed that he could rescue her. He could spread a little money around and spring her, right? After all, just a bunch of gooks, right? Shell out a little money in the right places and anything was possible.
Or, if he was wrong – if he couldn’t spring her – well, unfortunate but those were the breaks, right. Yeah, just the breaks. It wasn’t like he had a choice.
The third step had been when they – he and his driver – had arrived at the estate outside Mae Salong – nothing elaborate but the checks of driver, passenger and vehicle had been through for all their simplicity.
And both driver and vehicle had remained at the entrance, while Jones – that was the name he had used and no one had asked for identification – was carried the final three kilometers or so in a silent, electric-powered coupe.
In a very real sense, these final precautions were daunting in precise proportion to their apparent simplicity.
Not that ‘Jones’ had the slightest intention of testing or provoking any of the precautions – neither those visible nor those less obvious.
After all, all he was asking was a small favor. Just a name and some materials – nothing elaborate, nothing complicated. It would be an easy matter to arrange, his friends had assured him – but he would have to speak to the General in person.
Baan Orchid, 11:05 AM
“It seems,” Terry replaced the telephone, “that Baan Orchid will have a new gardener this afternoon.”
Nolan looked across the desk, a quizzical expression on his face but said nothing for a long minute. Finally, “You’re sure about this?”
Terry nodded, letting a smile grow across his face. “This one,” he announced quietly, “is provided by Inspector Taskin of the Tourist Authority of Thailand.” Terry paused again before finishing, “The Inspector suggests that I should come by the station and be introduced in person.”
“Sounds reasonable to me,” Nolan agreed. “Do you want an escort?”
“Thanks,” Terry shook his head. “What I would like are a few answers.”
It was Nolan’s turn for a headshake. “Sorry,” he declined. “If I had any…”
“Yeah. Well, after lunch, I’ll send Tahm to round up some help – and a tow truck with a winch – so we c
an get that safe back inside. Not that it seems to do much good. And I’ll go down and pick up our new gardener, I guess. May as well get some use out of him.”
“I’d imagine,” Nolan stifled a yawn, “that a few of us could help. Bren and Jeffery certainly. And Greg. I’m not sure if I’d ask Bob. I’ll ask after they wake up. And have some lunch maybe.”
“Greg’s been at the market with Plah,” Terry offered. “Getting ready for his turn this evening. I believe he’s in the kitchen right now. But, yeah, no point in waking the others. For that matter, why aren’t you catching a few hours sleep? “
“Same reason as you, I imagine,” Nolan suggested. “Hey, I caught a couple of hours this morning. Maybe it’s not quite eight total but … well, I was awake. Didn’t see any point in lying there and counting gingkoes. Mam still asleep?”
“She stayed up for a while. Said Joan got a phone call earlier, then went out. Caught a tuk-tuk, I guess. Anyway, I told Mam to get some sleep. Well, shall we see how lunch is coming?”
Somewhere near border, west of Mae Salong, Thailand, 11:12 AM
“I must think on this, Kun Jones,” the General decided abruptly. “I suggest you return Chiang Mai. I have decision for you tomorrow, krahp.”
“Then I thank you for your consideration,” Mr. Jones recognized his cue, rising and bowing politely. If his bow was more in the Japanese style than a Thai wai, the General offered no comment beyond a nod of dismissal.
Outside, waiting for the electric sedan to reappear, Mr. Jones allowed himself the luxury of removing his hat and sweeping a hand across his forehead and back. By Thai standards, the day was cool but it was warm enough for the gesture not to appear entirely out of place.
Maybe things hadn’t gone too badly, he decided. And they might have even gone well – it was hard to say until tomorrow. He hadn’t been turned down flat – that much at least was good. He shivered again, wonder why the breeze was suddenly so cool. Finally, he checked his wristwatch, squinting slightly to read the second time zone. Not quite midnight in New York but late enough to understand the General’s delay.