by Ben Ezzell
Waiing to makeshift shrine – Tahm was aware of significance of puzzle box and honored his temple dancer share honors – Tahm extracted the makeshift camera/motion detector combination from his pocket, placing the assembly unobtrusively at the end of the shelf in the corner where the lens would have a good field of view.
Later, he tell Kun Sarah, he reminded himself.
Presently, he visited the other rooms, collecting laundry, straightening beds, mopping the bathroom and floors and, very quickly, making everything neat.
Kun Tanya’s room was still empty. She not return yet but Kun Joan say not worry.
And Kun Joan’s room very neat already.
Kun Greg’s room not so neat but not problem. Kun Greg still sleep – come in very late from tour. Tahm smiled, hoping Kun Greg had enjoyed night on town; had enjoyed attentions of much pretty girl.
Downstairs, Tahm continued his chores for the larger bedroom shared by Kun Bren and Kun Jeffery’s before finishing with the Maxwell’s.
The remaining guest – Kun Nolan – was in the other house; he would clean there next. Then clean Kun Greg’s room later.
Holiday Inn Green Hills, Chiang Mai, 9:25 AM
“Your farahng are leaving for school,” the uniformed man closed the cell phone. “I think we should go now.” The speaker’s English was excellent with only a trace of accent to affirm his oriental ancestry.
Kun Jones – or Mr. Thomas Greenberg as he would introduce himself – stood up, feeling vaguely uncomfortable in his present attire. The linen jacket fitted reasonably well as did the slacks but the short-sleeved, button-down pin-striped shirt was a size too tight in the neck while the conservative tie did nothing to assist. It would only be for a short time, he reminded himself. Less than an hour.
The important thing was that his present attire was completely unlike his usual dress – as was his entire appearance.
Stooping in front of a mirror, he patted the sandy-gray mustache to assure himself that it was firmly in place, ran a hand across his slicked-back hair and tugged the straw hat down in front. The yellow-lensed sunglasses and goatee completing his disguise were already in place.
Outside, a late-model Ford sedan and a driver were waiting. The car, at least, would be air-conditioned. Already, the day was growing warm.
“You have the package?”
The uniformed man nodded without responding.
Baan Orchid, 9:42 AM
“Kun Joan?” Tahm wai’d as he stepped inside. “Kun Plah say you ask me come.”
“Please, come in,” Joan invited. “Are you very busy right now?”
“Not busy very,” Tahm crossed the room and sat down without invitation.
Joan smiled inwardly at her own reaction. Different places, different customs, she reminded herself. Here it was impolite to remain standing – to tower over someone. Here it was polite to sit without invitation.
“You need Tahm help?”
“Something,” Joan agreed. “It’s not a rush though. But do you have a camera by any chance?”
“Have four digital camera,” Tahm reminded her. “Mai, have three – Kun Taskin have one. Use trap kamoy. Work very good.”
“I was thinking of something with more detail. No, never mind. We can ask Mr. Maxwell – if he had any more optics, he’d go clank. What I want, if you don’t mind, is to take photographs of your carvings. Would that be okay?”
“If you want carving …” Tahm spoke carefully.
“No, no – your carvings are lovely. All of them. And, yes, I’d love to buy one or two if you’re willing to sell them. But would you mind if I ask Bob to photograph them? I’d like to show some of them to a friend of mine. Back in the states. I mean, not if there’s any – ah – taboo or anything. Or if it’s bad luck or something.”
“Taboo? Mai khao jai! Not bad luck, no. Photograph okay but some piece not sell,” Tahm paused. “Can Tahm ask Kun Joan advice? About piece Tahm want make? Tahm wonder if Joan think Kun Sarah mind,” he hesitated, trying to organize his question in his own mind.
9:56 AM
The white Ford Taurus pulled in through the gate, rolling across the gravel until reaching the porch. The driver – a young Thai in tan shirt and pants stepped out, opening the rear door on the driver’s side and then rounding the vehicle to open the second door.
From the driver’s side, a Thai, wearing a tan uniform stepped out, settling a peaked cap in place. On the other side, a lighter-skinned man – Caucasian, in his late fifties – climbed out, shaking the wrinkles out of his jacket.
As the two men exited the vehicle, Mam came to the door, stepping into a pair of sandals and crossing the porch, stopping as she reached the bottom step. As the two men approached, she wai’d respectfully.
“Sawat dii ka,” she greeted them, then switched to English. “Welcome Baan Orchid.”
From the porch of the second house, Joan was too remote to hear the exchange but she watched curiously as the uniformed man returned Mam’s wai. The second man – there was something vaguely familiar about him – first offered a hand, then pulled it back and sketched an awkward bow. The third arrival – the driver – remained standing by the vehicle.
“Kun Tahm, you help Kun Mam, ka?” Joan suggested. “Is Terry here?”
“Kun Terry take van,” Tahm stepped into his shoes. “Go cooking school, then take Plah market. Back later.” He slipped off the porch to cross the lawn.
In the yard, their new gardener was busily raking leaves under the fruit trees. No, Joan corrected herself, the motions were there but the rake was silent, making slow movements a few inches above the ground.
A few minutes later – Joan stepped back inside when she saw the group approaching – Mam entered and wai’d before explaining. “Kun Joan,” she started. “Officer Lopburi here to inspect scene of burglary. Say need to see all place before trial for kamoy.”
“Your pardon,” the officer apologized, stepping into the room in stocking feet and waiing respectfully. “But it is necessary to make record of location for trial judge. Since American involved as victim, I ask Mr. Greenburg from consulate to accompany. Please do not disturb self – simply a matter of photographs and notes.” He displayed a camera held in one hand.
Behind him, the announced Mr. Greenburg bowed awkwardly, then – after a comment from the officer – stepped back outside, returning shoeless on his second entry.
“Certainly,” Joan nodded response, before returning her attention to her notepad. “I’m glad to see that the Thai police are so careful. It’s all been really quite exciting, you know. I was just writing a letter to a friend – telling all about our adventures. Marly simply won’t believe me, of course, but I don’t see how I could resist telling her. And she’ll be simply green with envy whether she believes me or not, you know. Oh dear, you said ‘Lobburi’? Is that right? However do you spell that? In English, I mean – except I don’t suppose you do, do you? Oh well, it doesn’t matter …”
Joan allowed her monologue to trail off when it was obvious that the two men were well up the stairs and out of immediate earshot.
“Kun Joan,” Tahm’s voice was puzzled as he remained by the door. Mam, of course, had followed the officer and his escort.
“Everything’s fine,” Joan assured him, tearing off the scribbled sheet and crumpling it before setting the notepad aside. “Well, why don’t we step outside for a little air? No point in our getting in their way, is there?” She took Tahm’s arm, guiding him toward the door. “Now, you were saying that Sarah suggested modeling for you?”
Outside, the shrubbery along the porch was receiving the gardener’s most careful attentions as Joan led Tahm toward the lanai.
10:05 AM
“There are times,” Joan assured Tahm, “when the best thing is to do nothing. And, no, I don’t think that Sarah is going to mind at all. She did offer. And, just maybe, she may have an extra reason or two to thank you. Of course, it may ruin your surprise … Well, we’ll just have to see, w
on’t we?
“But enough of that, Tahm. Have you ever considered using a power tool for sculpture? You know what a Dremel Tool is? I believe that’s the right name. Very popular with jewelers and sculptors … No, don’t look around. Just let them get on with … whatever it is they’re doing.
“My, my, your new gardener certainly is industrious, isn’t he?” As she spoke, she was looking at the spreading banyan tree and not at the gardener at all.
Besides, Tahm thought, the gardener was very inefficient – as a gardener – since he was now washing the porch at the main house.
Listening to Kun Joan, Tahm considered, rather like watching a hummingbird. It interesting but it also hard to know which direction she go next. And, he thought, it not just that his English weak.
Still, if Kun Joan say so, Kuhn wait. Kun Joan chalaht mak mak! – clever, very very.
10:14 AM
“I take it they were very through?” Joan questioned casually as they watched the Taurus back into the street.
“Mai khao jai, ka!” Mam answered. “No understand.”
“I mean the policeman looked at everything, yes? And took photographs?”
“Ka, take many photograph. Ask many question,” Mam agreed.
“And the farahng? From the consulate? Did he say much?”
“Ask where bathroom,” Mam reported. “No say much other. Just follow officer.”
“I see,” Joan nodded. “And I’m sure you showed him. Of course you did. Well, that’s all right then. Oh, Kun Tahm, if you have a few minutes, could you give me a hand?” She wai’d quickly to Mam, smiling before walking across the lawn, pausing briefly to nod at the gardener.
Tahm waited for a moment, looking at Mam, then accepting a smile and nod as dismissal, followed the older woman.
Wat Faham Road, leaving Baan Orchid, 10:14 AM
In the car, Mr. Greenburg/Jones jerked the tie loose and opened his collar to run a hand around his neck before peeling off the mustache/goatee.
“That went very well,” he tucked the hairpiece in his jacket pocket. “Now,” he reached inside the jacket to produce a wallet, “if you’ll wait until afternoon and call in the tip, you can be back in Bangkok this evening.” He produced a thick sheath of greenbacks rather than Thai currency, counting off twenty of the hundred dollar bills. “I presume dollars are acceptable?”
“Kob khun kahp,” the officer agreed. “Quite acceptable. As you say, after lunch and then back to Bangkok. A pleasure to be of service. You will pay our driver, of course?”
“I have,” Mr. Greenburg/Jones confirmed. “God, I’ll be glad to get back to the States. Is it always this hot here?”
“Hot? Not particularly. This is cool season, you know. Particularly here in north. Down south now – or in couple of months here – things will warm up. But I don’t suppose you’re planning on staying?”
“Damn right,” the man shrugged out of the jacket. “No longer than I have to.”
Baan Orchid, 10:21 AM
“I believe,” Joan suggested firmly, looking around the bedroom but disturbing nothing, “that you should ask Officer Kunontong to come up here.” Then, “Our gardener,” she amplified, seeing Tahm’s look of uncertainty.
“Officer Kanoontong, kahp,” he corrected her accent. “Most quickly, yes. I think you are correct,” he slipped out of the room, not quite at a run but with all due haste.
10:23 AM
Any pretense of being a gardener had been left in the garden as Officer Kowit Kanoontong entered the upstairs bedroom.
“Kun Tahm say you believe something wrong?” he questioned. “Something missing?”
“Not missing,” Joan corrected. “I think maybe something has been left behind.”
The room showed no obvious signs of disturbance; the bed was neatly made, the chifferobe doors were closed, nothing was scattered.
“I think,” Joan suggested, “that it would be a good idea if you searched the bedroom. Very carefully.”
“Start with bed,” Tahm suggested. “I make bed earlier. Bed very neat but not how I make it.”
Officer Kanoontong nodded, then crossed to the bed and folded back the bedspread and sheet, doubling them toward the end of the bed before checking the two pillows and handing these to Tahm. Next, the officer patted along the mattress, then peeled back the fitted top sheet, concluding by lifting the folded sheets and spread away from the bed.
These Tahm also accepted, stacking them neatly on top of the two pillows resting on a chair.
Next, responding to a gesture from the officer, Tahm took one end of the mattress and the two men lifted the cushion away from the frame, leaning it against the windows to the side.
What was left was the frame and the bare springs … and a flat manila package toward the bottom center of the springs.
“This not here previous,” Tahm announced, starting to reach for the object.
“Mai, kahp!” the officer ordered sharply. “Not touch,” he amplified in English, glancing at Mrs. Maguire. “Please to leave room,” he directed. “I have wish to call Inspector Taskin. You have key to lock room, kahp? Do so, kawp koon kahp!” The last was directed to Tahm but no translation was necessary.
Nodding with satisfaction, Joan stepped into the hallway, watching as the room was secured, then following the officer and Tahm downstairs.
DragonTree.com Contents
Chapter Twenty-Seven:
Chapter Twenty-Seven:
Baan Orchid, Saturday, February 10th, 11:04 AM
It was comic opera, Joan thought, watching the normally fastidious Inspector Taskin dismount from the motorcycle with the boxy sidecar. The inspector wore faded jeans, a worn tan shirt and sandals – a distinct contrast to his usual pressed uniform and polished shoes – as he gathered a toolbox and a cardboard carton from the caged platform on the left side of the modified vehicle.
Then, rather than coming to the porch, the disguised officer carried his burden around the side of the house, followed by Tahm and the gardener, entering the kitchen at the rear.
Joan shook her head with muted laughter as she walked though the long living room / dining room to open the rear doors leading down to the kitchen. “Sawah dii ka, Inspector,” she greeted the officer with a respectful wai.
“Sawat dii krahp,” the Inspector returned her greeting. “You will introduce me to this mysterious package, krahp?” If his attire was casual to the point of rags, once inside and out of sight, his manner and bearing were as crisp as ever. “I have been informed of your morning visitor,” he continued briskly. “And you are correct very – we do not have an Officer Lopburi and there would be no reason for such an officer to be accompanied by a consular official.”
“I thought not,” Joan admitted, leading the way upstairs. “Particularly since the consular official looked very familiar.”
“You could identify this man?”
“I didn’t look,” she advised him reprovingly. “Really, there was no point in scaring them off. Certainly not at this point. If they’d spooked, there’d be no way of knowing what they would do next, yes? Maybe someone would have been hurt, who knows. So,” she concluded, “I allowed them get on with their business and leave. After all, I presume your Officer Singhaseni followed them?”
“He did,” the Inspector agreed tersely, then turned to Tahm. “Door, krahp?”
Tahm unlocked quickly, then swung the door open, remaining in the hallway.
Inside, on the bed, a startled gingko darted off the package and vanished into the springs.
Stepping through the door, the Inspector produced a pair of surgical gloves from one pocket and a plastic bag from the other. Pulling on the gloves, he lifted the package, slipping it into the bag before turning his attentions to the remainder of the room.
“You have check everywhere, krahp?” he queried.
“Mai kahp! Regretfully no,” Officer Kanoontong admitted, adding that since Tahm had suggested the bed had been disturbed, they had begun there and had
then called the Inspector immediately on discovering the package.
“I think,” the Inspector picked up the bagged package as he turned to Mrs. Maguire, “that we should talk about this matter.”
Wat Faham Road, near Baan Orchid, 11:20 AM
The Inspector’s instructions had been quite clear; Tahm was to walk down the street to the small store a block or so away and to wait there for two officers to arrive in plain clothes. He would then bring them to the vacant property – where two officers had been stationed during the night hours – and guide them along the back way following the riverbank.
While waiting, Tahm purchased a soda, sitting on the front curb to drink it. He would have liked sing but not now. Now, Tahm keep head clear.
Traffic was light – this was a residential street – but the ironmongers across the way had several old friends of Tahm’s busily fashioning wrought iron gates and grillwork. Normally, he would have stepped across the street to chat – he had worked there at one time – but, today, his attentions very much on Baan Orchid and what happen there.
When he had left – after stopping to informing Kun Mam of Inspector Taskin’s presence – the mock gardener had been seated in a chair at the base of the stairs while Kun Joan and the Inspector had been engaged in discussion in the front living room.
Tahm wished very much that he could have stayed and listened. But, he realized, even if he had stayed, his English was not so very good. The Inspector spoke English very well – only natural since TAT-service demanded good language skills – but Tahm had followed only part of what Kun Joan had said.
For one, why Kun Joan tell Inspector to check bathroom for fingerprints? That, at least, was what Tahm think he hear.
And why Inspector think someone more come? That why policemen come in plain clothes? That why Inspector in plain clothes?
And should Tahm mention camera in Kun Sarah’s room? Tahm wasn’t sure; would the Inspector understand? Or would he think Tahm … No, Tahm must say – but would check first.