The Flower Girl

by Lilburne, Guy

  “What’s a window licker?”

  “A nutcase, round the twist, crazy, a nutter, a biscuit spitter…..”

  “Yes, I get it. You think I’m mad.”

  “Yeah, you got it Steve. I think you are a nice bloke, but you just can’t control what is going on in your own mind.”

  “Sawat, I really didn’t murder The Flower Girl. I’m an innocent man, I really am. If I get executed for this it will be a great miscarriage of justice. A tragedy.”

  “Yeah, I hear you Steve, but I think most people will think that the only tragedy in all this is the dead Flower Girl. If what you say about her is true Steve, then she seemed like a lovely person.”

  “Yes, she was. Beautiful and wonderful. I love her.”

  “Shame you killed her, really.”

  “I didn’t Sawat. Please believe me. It’s so important to me that you believe me. I really didn’t do this. Can’t you investigate what I have told you?”

  “I’ll see what I can do Steve, but I didn’t really join the police to be investigating stuff and waste my time talking to witnesses. I keep telling you Steve, I have my own problems.”

  “Yes, I know. I’m sorry about that, but please just look at it. You might surprise yourself.”

  “I’ll see what I can do. OK. I’m ending the interview now, blah, blah, blah and all the stuff you are supposed to say at the end of the interview.”

  “Sawat, can I ask you one thing?”

  “Sure Steve. What?”

  “What is the big secret you know about woman?”

  “Haha! I’ll tell you one day Steve. You’ll be amazed and you will never be short of women ever again.”

  “Wow! That’s a hell of a secret!”

  “It’s priceless Steve.”

  Sawat turned the tape machine off and flicked out the tapes. He sealed them and patted me on the shoulder as he walked out. I was taken back to my cell. I didn’t know if I felt better or not, but at least I had told my side of the story.

  After a few hours I was taken out of my cell again and I felt excited, because I thought that Sawat was back and he was going to tell me that he found something to prove that I was telling the truth. I was taken to the usual interview room and introduced to Bernard Jackson.

  Mr Jackson was from the British Embassy and he had travelled down from Bangkok. He was smart in appearance, but not in the same way as Sawat. Mr Jackson had a stain on his red tie that looked as if it had been there for a while and his suit was old and creased. I guessed that it had as much service in the foreign office as Mr Jackson. The suit looked tired from too many years of working long hours in an office, sitting at desks and spilling coffee.

  He was older than me, maybe about 50 years of age and he was thin. He did a gurning thing with his face quite a lot and kept stretching his neck up. Then he would jut his chin out, twitch and his neck would shoot back down into his shirt collar. He did this a lot and I found it quite distracting. He must use up a lot of energy doing that all day long, no wonder he was so thin. He had a mop of ginger hair that was greying at the sides and it seemed quite long for a man of his age. Well, a man of his age from the Embassy anyway. He stood up and shook my hand when I walked into the interview room and when he spoke he sounded upbeat and cheery.

  “Hello Steven. My name is Bernard Jackson. You can call me Mr Jackson. I’m just here to make sure that you are being looked after and to see if there is anything that Her Majesty’s Government can do for one of her subjects.” He stretched his neck and twitched again.

  “Can you get me out of here?”

  “No, that won’t be possible. I have all your details here, but to save me from reading them out, can you just scan over them and sign at the bottom if they are correct.” He slid a typed form across the table to me. I read the completed boxes with all my personal details on it and I signed it.

  “I didn’t commit any murder Mr Jackson” I said desperate for someone to believe me.

  “Well, ultimately, that will be decided in court. I have spoken to a Detective Sawat Deewat today and he has told me the whole ghost story thing.”

  “It’s not a story. It’s true.”

  “It’s not a great defence. You might want to re-think that one. The British Government will pay for a solicitor to represent you in court. Someone will come and see you before then, so you can decide on any defence or mitigation and we will be working behind the scenes on your behalf to try to avoid the death penalty. Have you any questions Steven?”

  “No I can’t think of anything. I’m sure I must have lots of questions, but I just can’t think of any.” I watched him stretch and twitch again.

  “Well that’s fine. I have left my details with the police. They can contact me if you need anything. Do you want me to get any message to any family?”

  “There is only my dad. Just tell him I’m sorry and that I didn’t do anything and that I love him.”

  “Quite. I’ll make sure that message is passed.” Mr Jackson stretched his neck and jutted and twitched and then stood up, nodded to the guard and he was shown out. I was taken back to my cell. One of the guards gave me a little plastic bag of sticky rice with a piece of white cooked fish in it in a chilli sauce. I hadn’t realised until today how much I loved Thai food, but I think it was because I was starving. The fish and rice tasted so good and made me feel so much better. I watched the light fade through the sealed window in my cell. I don’t know why, but I always felt a bit better in the cell at night time. Maybe because it was the end of another day in hell. Well I thought it would be the end of another day, but it wasn’t. I was taken out of my cell again, but this time I was taken along different corridors and taken to the reception area of the cell block. I found out it was also the charge area and I was charged in Thai, with the murder of The Flower Girl. I guessed that I had been charged with her murder because I recognised her name in amongst all the other stuff that the Captain or Inspector or whatever he was read out. After he finished talking he just looked at me. I looked around the charging area and there were another six police officers there and they were all just looking at me. Two of them were holding big chains with leg irons attached. I hoped they weren’t meant for me. I didn’t know what he wanted me to say or if indeed he wanted me to say anything. I didn’t think he would understand me anyway, so I didn’t say anything, I just nodded. The Captain or Inspector or whatever he was nodded and an officer stepped forward and handed me an orange jump suit. I opened it and put it on. The two officers with the leg irons stepped forward and fitted then to my ankles and another chain with clasps that looked the same as the leg irons but smaller were attached to my wrists. Another thinner chain was attached with padlocks joining up the two chains. If all this chaining up was designed to sink my spirits completely, then it worked. It felt like the end of the world and these leg irons really hurt and when I tried to walk they rubbed and cut my skin into sores. If they were designed to stop me escaping then they worked on that level too. Now I really felt like a convict and my prospects were not looking so good. Either a Death Penalty or Life in a Thai prison. I know that you must be sick of hearing this, but I started crying again and I was taken back to my cell. Hell had just got worse!

  Chapter 11

  It seems the future really is an orange jumpsuit.

  I was given a plastic bag of sticky rice and crispy pork for breakfast before being taken into the interview room for the last time. Detective Sawat Deewat was already sitting in there waiting for me. He looked like the CEO of a major international company, not just a Detective. He was wearing a very sharp looking pin striped suit. His hair looked expensively styled and today he was clean shaven. He wasn’t looking very happy.

  “Hi, Sawat. Are you OK?”

  “Hi, Steve. No I’m not OK, really.”

  “Why? Is it something about my case?” I
asked, sitting down as best I could in my chains. My ankles were really sore now and I was pretty sure that my chains were either too small or, at least, hadn’t been fitted properly, but I didn’t want to make a fuss.

  “No. It’s not about your case Steve. You are not the only one with problems you know, Steve!” he said to me. I sat across the interview table from him in my orange prison clothes, chained hand and foot and charged with a murder that I didn’t commit.

  “Why, what’s wrong?”

  “Women, Steve. It’s always women. I woke up this morning with two of them in my bed and I can’t remember even meeting them.”

  “Oh!” I said, but not really feeling his pain.

  “I want to change my ways, Steve. I really do. But it’s not easy when you look like me and have the money that I’ve got.”

  “Did you have to pay the girls?”

  “Oh my Buddha! No! Of course not. I’ve never had to pay for a girl in my life.”

  “I didn’t until I came to Thailand, but then again, I never had any girls back in England. Here I had to keep giving money to all the girls. Well, except for The Flower Girl.”

  “I was thinking about going to the temple and praying to Buddha Steve, but it’s a bit boring for me. I prefer your idea about finding a good woman to help me turn my life around.”

  “Yes, that’s a good idea. I think a good woman would really turn your life around, but you need to find the right woman.”

  Sawat sat nodding and was obviously thinking about finding the right woman, but for now, I would be a lot happier if he was thinking about trying to find the real killer. I had already told his name. I mean, how many men can there be called Dean living in England.

  “Did you manage to speak to anybody about my case?” I asked, breaking the silence and bringing Sawat back to the present.

  “Yes, I did Steve. But let me tell you, I didn’t join the police to speak to witnesses and take statements. It’s not my idea of fun.”

  “What did you find out then?”

  “Well Steve, everyone saw you alright and everyone noticed you. I have statements from people who saw you walking along pretending to hold hands with someone. I have statements from people who saw you sitting in restaurants, having ordered two meals and just eating one and talking across the table to nobody. I have statements from a lot of people who saw you talking to yourself and laughing to yourself. Absolutely everyone thinks that you are a crazy man, Steve.”

  “Oh no!” I said, shaking my head in frustration. “It wasn’t like that Sawat. I was talking to Pin. I was holding hands with Pin. Everything was with Pin. All those people saw me with The Flower Girl, but they just couldn’t see her because she was a ghost. I didn’t know that at the time.”

  “Well, that’s the way it looked to them anyway, but being crazy might be a good thing.”

  “Why?”

  “Because the Thai authorities are less likely to execute you for the murder if they think you are crazy. It’s all politics and it might be better for everyone if you are not executed.”

  “Yes, I agree. It will be better for my health if I’m not killed.”

  “I like you Steve” Sawat said, laughing. I was happy that I had brightened his day.

  “If they don’t execute me, what will happen?”

  “Life in prison.”

  “How long will that be for?”

  “Life. The rest of your life. Well, at least it would be if they keep you in Thailand, but I would imagine they will let you go and finish the sentence off in England, after 15 or 20 years here.”

  “15 or 20 years?”

  “Yes. They wouldn’t want to send you back much before that, because they know in England they would let you out within a few years. Life in prison in England only means a few years. But here, we really mean what we say.”

  “So, if they think I’m crazy, then they might not execute me?”

  “Yes. So it wouldn’t do you any harm if you started acting a bit more crazy, Steve.”

  “You mean, like licking windows?”

  Sawat laughed again.

  “It might be an idea, Steve.”

  “I can’t do that Sawat. I’m not crazy and I didn’t murder The Flower Girl.”

  “Yeah. I really would like to believe you Steve. Anyway, I’d better let you go. I only came to see you off. They are taking you to prison today. I’ll come and see you in a day or two.”

  “What!”

  “I’ll come and see you in a day or two.”

  “No. I mean What! About the prison.”

  “Yep. You are going there today.”

  “Don’t I have to go to court or something first?”

  “No. Don’t worry about that. We are still gathering the evidence. You don’t want to rush these things, Steve.”

  “I don’t know what to say. I think I’m still in a state of shock, Sawat.”

  “Like I say Steve, you are not the only one with problems. You have had me thinking too much about your case and I didn’t join the police to solve crime.”

  “Yes, I understand” I lied. “Sawat, will I be going to The Bangkok Hilton?”

  “Wow! You have heard of Bangkwang Prison?”

  “I didn’t know the real name, but I have heard about the place. Am I going to be taken there?”

  “Eventually mate, but not today. You will be taken to Phuket Provincial Prison until trial. If you are sentenced to less than 18 years, you would stay in Phuket Prison, but anything above 18 years and you would be sent to Bangkok. So, in your case, yes you will be going there eventually.”

  “I’ve heard it’s really bad.”

  “Yeah. Oh well, a day at a time, Steve. A day at a time.”

  I was taken back to my cell. I was happy I wasn’t going to Bangkwang Prison, but I wasn’t happy about going to Phuket Provincial Prison. A prison is a prison, even in a tropical holiday paradise. I was taken on a little bus, with metal grills over the windows, and driven to the prison. It was only a 30 minute drive, but it seemed to take forever and I was very scared. Maybe I was just scared of going into the unknown. I didn’t like being locked up in my cell in the police station, but at least I was on my own. Now I was heading for an actual prison. It was the first time in my life that I was happy to be so ugly. I think part of my fear was that some big bad convict would fancy me. I have seen prisons on TV and I didn’t want to be anyone’s ‘Bitch’. I certainly didn’t want to have any bum fun, or should I say, I don’t want anyone trying to have any bum fun with me. I wished I was a tough guy. Oh my God! I was on my way to prison. I said a quick prayer to Pin, my beautiful Flower Girl.

  “Pin, if you are there, please don’t let anyone put their willy in me” I said, with my hands in prayer.

  Phuket Provincial Prison was over 100 years old; 111 to be exact and it was built to accommodate 800 prisoners. When I arrived there at 4:30pm, there were 1615 inmates, of which 38 were foreign nationals. This included two young Swedish blokes who had already been there for over a year waiting for trial, after being charged with killing some other Swedish bloke. There were also 90 ladyboys and about a quarter of them wore negligées instead of the issued blue shorts.

  I was ‘processed’, which included taking my orange jump suit off and being given a pair of blue shorts to wear and nothing else. This, as it happened was a blessing, because the prison was even hotter than the rest of Phuket and that was very, very hot. The leg irons were re-applied, but my hands were left free. I was taken to my dormitory, which I shared with another 231 inmates. There were no beds. We slept on the floor and we were locked in the dormitory from 6pm to 6am each day. Smoking was not allowed anywhere in the prison, which did surprise me. There wasn’t a problem with drugs in the prison, but there were a lot of black market cigarettes being bought and so
ld. Prisoners were like naughty schoolboys, sneaking off for a quick puff. This brings me back to the ladyboys! The ladyboys here had some kind of status and were, without doubt, the queen bees amongst the other inmates. Some of the ladyboys were feminine and quite pretty. Well, for blokes anyway. Some of them were just like really effeminate blokes. I spent the rest of the day keeping myself to myself and trying to look dangerous, so that nobody would mess with me. It must have worked, because they didn’t.

  I sort of just settled into prison life over the next few days. Well, I had no choice really. Up and out of Dorm at 6am. Food was rice in vegetable soup once a day, but you could work and earn money for extra food, which most people did, and so we ate twice a day. The prison was very overcrowded and, if you moved at night, people would just spread out and take your sleeping space. The foreigners, or farangs as the Thai’s call us, mostly stuck together. But, to be honest, I preferred hanging around with the Thai prisoners and I made some friends. Most of the day was spent out in the main quadrangle and it was baking hot in the sun. But I have to say that the prison wasn’t as bad as I had imagined. There were even some palm trees, which reminded me that I was on holiday. OK, I was starting to realise that it was going to be a longer holiday than I had planned and, even though the prison wasn’t the wicked dungeon that I had imagined, I still wouldn’t recommend anyone to stay there.

  On my first full day in Phuket Provincial Prison I was still trying to keep myself to myself and look tough, when two ladyboys walked up to me. I saw them looking at me from a small group on the other side of the quad. The leader of their group seemed to be a very tall ladyboy. She/he was one of the ladyboys who was wearing a negligée instead of shorts. The tall one and one of the others walked towards me. I put my hands together in prayer again to Pin;

  “Please don’t make me their bitch. Please don’t make me their bitch. Please don’t make me their bitch” I muttered, over and over as they walked towards me.