Cocktails & Dreams

by Lilburne, Guy

  Bee walked to her car and Pon watched her. He caught a flash of thigh as she got into her vehicle. She followed the black car taking the body out onto Rat-u-Thit road.

  Chapter 4 The postmortem.

  Dr. Abudee was already waiting at the hospital mortuary, along with two mortuary technicians, when the body arrived followed by Detective Khumsombot. Dr. Abudee was one of life’s happy people and always seemed to have a smile on his face. His teeth were brilliant white, but slightly too big for his mouth. He was tall for a Thai man, but looked painfully thin. Even the smallest doctors white coat in the hospital was at least two or three sizes too big for him. He always looked like he wrapped himself in clothes rather than wearing them. He wore big black framed glasses that magnified his eyes out of proportion to the rest of his head and gave him the look of an alien. Dr. Abudee may have looked like a comical character, but he was well respected by all who knew him and, with nearly 20 years of experience as a pathologist under his belt, there was nothing he hadn’t seen before. Once he had the scalpel in his hand he was the ultimate professional.

  The doctor and the detective greeted each other with simultaneous wais, as the two mortuary technicians took charge of the body and wheeled her inside the mortuary.

  “I’ve already been told that it looks like a gunshot wound, detective. Do you think murder or suicide?” asked Dr. Abudee with a huge grin on his face. If somebody was meeting the doctor for the first time, they might be wondering what he was grinning at, but Bee had met him several times and knew that this grin was pretty much a permanent feature of Dr. Abudee’s face. It took most people a lot of conscious effort not to grin back at him when they spoke to him.

  “Yes, it looks like a gunshot wound and I would say it was murder. The body was found at 7:30am, by a stall holder when he was opening up his stall. She was lying behind the counter. Somebody had cut the padlock off the stall curtain and left the body there. There was no sign of a struggle or blood outside the stall and the blood splattering inside would suggest that the victim was probably shot when she was standing inside the stall.”

  “Any weapon found at the scene?”

  “No.”

  “Do we know who she is?”

  “No.”

  Just then one of the mortuary technicians came back outside into the sunshine and wai’d to Dr. Abudee.

  “Doctor, the body is ready for examination. She is not female. She is a katoey.”(ladyboy)

  “Well, that’s the first surprise of the day. Let’s see what else we can find out.”

  They followed the doctor inside. The technicians had already removed the clothing and bagged it in forensic bags for the police. The body was already laid out on the mortuary table and the two technicians waited patiently by the body, already changed into their greens and masked up, wearing white Wellington boots and surgical gloves. They waited for Doctor Abudee to get changed. Bee took a seat behind the glass screen up in the viewing room just feet away from the body. The glass screen didn’t go all the way up, so she could not just watch the post mortem but also hear everything the doctor would say. Unfortunately, it also meant she would be able to hear all the bone cutting, sawing and blood squelching. It also meant she would be able to smell everything. Now it just smelt clean and of disinfectant, but the detective knew from experience that that would change as soon as the body was cut open.

  The room was ready. The blackboard was clean, ready for one of the technicians to record weights and sizes of all the vital organs at the Doctor dictated. The surgical tools were laid out and gleaming on the green cloth that covered the stainless steel trolley. The deceased was laid out on the stainless steel bed and covered with a white plastic sheet. The bed had a V shaped groove that sloped down to a plug hole at the bottom of the bed to allow the blood to flow away and the tiled floor also had a gradual slope into a drain. Yellow water hoses were rolled up on the wall, dripping water and ready to be used to wash away blood and anything else, as and when required. The Doctor’s Dictaphone was already tied to the lighting rig and hanging over the body.

  Doctor Abudee walked into the room in his ‘greens’ and white Wellington boots. One of the technicians walked over to the blackboard and stood chalk in hand. The second technician turned on the Dictaphone and waited next to the body to help the doctor with the cutting and sawing.

  After the post mortem Bee sat with Dr. Abudee in his office and they drank Chinese tea. Bee had made her own notes during the examination……..the body was that of a healthy Thai katoey (ladyboy), aged about 20 years, no diseases or abnormalities. The cause of death was a single gunshot wound, shot at close range; the bullet fired up into the chest. The bullet was recovered inside the body; a 38 calibre, hollow tipped bullet. The time of death was estimated at 11:00pm by the extent of rigor mortis; the last meal was chicken and rice eaten a few hours before.

  When one of the mortuary technicians tossed the victims silicone implants into the waste, Doctor Abudee made him recover them and place them back inside the body before it was stitched back up. He figured that’s what the deceased would have wanted, and Bee was happy that he had done this. Without the implants the deceased just looked like a boy with long hair.

  Chapter 5 Identifying the body.

  When Bee stepped outside, back into the fierce heat and humidity of the day, her mobile phone rang. It was the police station.

  “Just thought that you would be interested. A Miss Tong has just been into the police station to report her roommate is missing” said the male voice on the other end of the line.

  “Do you think it could be our murder victim?” asked Bee.

  “Don’t know, but it’s worth checking out. Miss Tong says that her roommate is also her co-worker and they both work at Cocktails & Dreams bar. Her roommate didn’t come home last night.”

  “Did she leave a contact number?”

  “Yes, detective. If her roommate works at Cocktails & Dreams, then she must be a katoey; Cocktails & Dreams is a ladyboy bar.”

  “I know, and the victim is a katoey. Have you got a number for Miss Tong?”

  The number was passed to Bee, who waited until she was sitting in the cool air conditioning of the car before she rang the number. It only rang once before it was answered. Miss Tong must have been holding her mobile in her hand.

  “Hello!”

  “Hello, My name is Bee, I’m a detective. You reported your roommate missing this morning……….”

  “Oh my Buddha! Is she OK? Have you found her?”

  “Why did you report her missing? I’m sure it is not unusual for people working in the bar to stay with customers at their hotels for the night.”

  “I reported her missing because, one minute she was in the bar and the next minute she was gone. She left her bag behind at the bar. She would never do that and, when she didn’t come home, I got worried. Is she OK?”

  Bee didn’t answer her question.

  “You work at Cocktails & Dreams, right?”

  “Yes, we both do.”

  “I want you to meet me there in 20 minutes.”

  “I haven’t got keys to the bar” protested Tong

  “Well ring somebody who has. This is a police investigation. Meet me at the bar in 20 minutes.” Bee closed the call as she reversed out of the parking space.

  Twenty minutes later Bee was parked outside Cocktails & Dreams in Soi Tiger, just off Bangla Road. The grey metal shutters were pulled down and there was no sign that anyone was around. It was still early and, at this time of day, all the bars were still closed. Bee opened her phone and was about to ring Miss Tong again, to ask her where she was, when she saw a little Honda ‘Click’ motor bike coming down the quiet soi towards her. The driver was a thin, middle aged farang and the passenger was a Thai girl. She was pretty. Neither of them was wearing a crash hat. The bike came to a stop by
the car as Bee got out. The girl jumped off the back of the bike and wai’d the detective very respectfully. Bee returned with a much lower wai.

  “I am Tong. I reported my friend Daa missing.”

  “I am Detective Bee. Who is this?” she flicked her chin towards the farang, now parking the bike outside the bar.

  “His name is George. He is one of the partners who own the bar. He is Australian” smiled Tong.

  “Does he speak Thai?”

  “No.”

  George got off the bike and walked towards Bee and Tong, with his hand outstretched to shake, as he introduced himself to the officer. Up close Bee could see that he was probably older than he looked at a distance; deep lines etched into skin the colour of tanned leather, from years of too much sun. He had a friendly, toothy smile.

  “My name’s George Bailey. I own the place. I hope everything is OK with Daa. She is a lovely girl and we are happy to help in any way we can to find her.”

  Bee hesitated to shake his offered hand, just long enough to make him feel uncomfortable. Then she shook his hand with her fingertips and didn’t try to hide the look of disdain on her face. As far as she was concerned she had a job to do and she wasn’t here to make friends.

  “Can we go inside?” she nodded towards the grey steel shutters.

  “Sure. No problem.” George rattled the largest bunch of keys hanging from his belt that Bee had ever seen.

  “Are all those keys actually to unlock something?” she asked.

  “Yes, of course, but I can’t remember what they are all for” he laughed. “This is the one we need now.” He held up a key with yellow tape around it, before he turned around and used it to unlock the shutters, which he then threw up with a single push.

  The three of them walked into the bar. Without the bright lights, music, laughter and glamorous, scantily clad ‘girls’, it was an empty soulless place that smelt of stale cigarettes and beer.

  “What can you tell me about your missing friend, Daa?” asked Bee in Thai.

  “What do you want to know?”

  “Everything you can tell me.”

  “Well, she is a good girl. She is beautiful and funny, very popular with the customers. She is still young, only twenty. She has worked here for the last two years. Oh, she is also my flat mate.” Tong paused while she was thinking what else she could tell the detective.

  “Are you lovers?”

  “What?” Tong was shocked and surprised by the directness of Bee’s questioning.

  “Are you lovers?” she repeated.

  Tong couldn’t bring herself to lie, so she didn’t want to answer the question. The long silence answered the question.

  “So that’s a ‘Yes’ then. Does anyone else know this?”

  “No, it’s not a secret; just nobody else’s business.” Tong was getting uncomfortable in the glare of the detectives gaze. “We just became special friends. It just sort of happened” she offered with a shrug of her shoulders and an involuntary pout of her lips.

  “What happened last night?”

  “It was just the usual. The place was busy. Daa had a customer and they were sitting over there at the end of the bar. She had definitely pulled him, because she told Fred the barman that he was going to pay her bar fine. He had been buying her lady drinks all night.”

  “So what happened?”

  “I don’t know. Nobody saw them leave. The drink bills were mounting up in his bar cup. They hadn’t even written out the bar fine bill and the next minute they had just vanished. There was enough money left under the bill cup to pay for the drinks, pay the bar fine, and a tip of 300 baht. I asked Fred where Daa was, because her handbag was still in the DJ booth, but I hadn’t seen her in a while.”

  “Fred is the barman?”

  “Yes, he said that, just before 11:00pm, the customer clicked his fingers to get his attention and put the money under the cup and they were gone. He didn’t even notice Daa. They left very quickly.”

  “Did you see the customer?”

  “Yes, very handsome man; mid-twenties, slim, dark hair, dark eyes, nice smile, good teeth for a farang. He wasn’t English, but I hear him speak English good. Maybe he was from Holland. Oh, he had a big red birthmark on his cheek and he was tall and strong, very big.”

  “Can you find his bar bills? He will have handled them when he checked them. I will be able to get his prints off them.”

  “Yes I think I could find them, I know what they were drinking.”

  Tong walked around the bar to get behind it. Last night’s drinks bills were all still stuck on half a dozen upright metal spikes. Later in the day Fred would come in and do the accounts. Tong put the ‘paid bill’ spikes on top of the bar and started flicking through them. After only a few minutes she put several bills aside.

  “These are his bar bills.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes, definitely. See this one is Daa’s bar fine bill. But he wouldn’t have handled that one, because they left before we had a chance to write out the bar fine bill. But he may have handled all these others” Tong smiled.

  “Can I see her handbag?”

  Tong retrieved the cream coloured bag from inside the DJ booth, which stood in one corner of the bar, and put it on the bar in front of Bee for examination.

  A Nokia mobile phone, Daa’s national identity card, a key ring holding a door key, a motor bike key with a little fluffy cat, a thousand baht note and an almost new photograph of Daa on Patong beach, wrapped around a middle aged and overweight, balding farang. He was wearing a huge white short sleeved shirt, but it did little to hide his enormous size, and brown shorts that came to just above his chubby knees. White socks came up to half way up his shins and he was wearing red Nike training shoes. Bee turned the photo over and written on the back she saw the words

  ‘I love you tee rak. Mr. P. XX’

  She looked at the photo again and turned it towards Tong.

  “Who is this?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe a customer!”

  “Would it be usual for her to have printed photographs of herself with customers?”

  “No. No, not really.”

  “I’m afraid I have some bad news for you.” Bee looked at Tong for a long time, waiting for her to guess what she was about to say and save her from saying the words; and she did.

  “Oh my Buddha! She is dead, isn’t she?”

  “I need you to come and have a look at a body that was found this morning. I think it is your friend Daa, She was found this morning. She had been shot dead.”

  Tong burst into tears and Bee stood and watched her. George Bailey guessed it was bad news, walked over to Tong and wrapped his arms around her.

  By the time they got to the mortuary the body had been cleaned and laid out in a little room. A Buddha shrine watched over the body and there were burning incense sticks and lotus flowers. Tong and George Bailey both identified the body as Daa. Tong collapsed on the floor when she saw her beautiful, special friend lying dead.

  Daa’s murder file was contained in an orange folder on Bee’s desk and it was starting to fill up. There were a few statements of witnesses and police officers, photographs, an exhibit list printout, a forensic report that amongst other things identified the murder weapon as a snub nose Smith &Wesson .38 special (a former favourite of US law enforcement officers), some handwritten notes, mostly made by Bee. The pathology report and any further statements would be added to the file as and when they were obtained.

  It was already very late into the evening before Bee got back onto her Honda ‘Click’ motor bike and rode back along the winding road, which went over the hills separating Patong from her apartment in Kata. She stripped off and stood under the shower for a long time, just letting the cool water wash away the day, runn
ing shampoo fingers through her hair.

  Just another day at the office.

  Chapter 6 The Great British Detective Agency.

  With the money that Nok had earned from the ‘Missing Jack Morgan’ case nearly nine months ago, she wasted no time in setting up her new business - a detective agency in a little soi just off Rat-U-Thit Road. Nok was Thai born and bred, in fact she had never stepped foot outside of Thailand, but she just liked the name ‘The Great British Detective Agency’, so that is what she called her agency. That’s what the sign over the door and under the air conditioning unit said in big red writing. Her offices were over a shop. From the metal reinforced door on the street, a small flight of stairs lead up to the small reception, which consisted of a desk with an old fashioned telephone on it, a grey metal filing cabinet and two wooden chairs for customers who were waiting. On top of the cabinet was a Buddha shrine. Incense sticks were lit and set in a glass of dry rice and offerings of bananas, flower garlands and cans of red Fanta pop were refreshed each morning. Nok’s office was partitioned off by a frosted glass wall with a glass door held on big stainless steel hinges. Engraved into the frosted glass were the words ‘Private Detective. Detective Nok’. The words filled Nok with pride every time she looked at them.

  Her receptionist, cleaner, secretary and trainee detective was a beautiful Chinese Thai girl called Meiwa. Her name, Meiwa, meant ‘beautiful baby’ in Chinese. Like Nok she had previously been forced by circumstance to earn her living turning tricks in a bar and, just like Nok, she was extremely intelligent and could think on her feet. They had become good friends three years ago when they both worked in Moons Bar, in Bangla Road and they had stayed in touch ever since. With hard work and good fortune they had both managed to escape working the bars, and now, working together again at the Great British Detective Agency, they made a great team. They were making a lot of money investigating bar girls on behalf of their farang boyfriends, who suspected that their loved ones might still be working the bars in spite of all the money they were sending them each month, on a promise not to carry on working in the sex trade.