by J. F. Gump
Laht's drive from Pitsanulok to Pattaya had taken forever. First the rain, then Somjit and her untimely stop in Bangkok, and then the mother of all traffic jams. They were halfway to Chonburi before the road cleared enough to go the speed limit. They reached the northern outskirts of Pattaya at eight-thirty.
Minutes later Laht saw a sign that said Beach Road. An arrow pointed to the right. He turned in that direction. If there were hotels in this town, they would surely be near the beach.
He was in the far left lane when he came to a traffic circle and was forced southward on Second Road. He sighed in annoyance, then shrugged his shoulders in resignation. Probably there would be hotels on Second Road, too.
Laht had never been to Pattaya because he had never a reason to come. He had heard stories about the nightlife of Pattaya, but this was the first time he had ever seen it. He had once gone to Patpong in Bangkok when he was eighteen, but it had been nothing like this. Pattaya was like a hundred Patpongs sitting side-by-side and back-to-back.
He stared at shops, bars, and restaurants that lined both sides of the street. He couldn't keep his eyes off the bar-girls. They were mostly young and pretty. Many, he guessed, were Esaan. Certainly, they were someone's daughter or wife or mother. He wondered how they could sell their bodies for a few baht, sleeping with a different stranger every night, putting their health and their lives at risk. Coming from a wealthy family, Laht couldn't imagine what their home lives must have been like to push them to this.
In the near distance he saw a sign advertising an establishment called The Alcazar Show. Its parking lot was busy with people, cars, and buses. He figured it was a place of entertainment for tourists.
A horn honking to his right caught his attention. He stopped his sightseeing and looked over. It was a taxi and the driver was making angry motions for him to pull aside. It took a second before Laht recognized the man as the taxi driver from Chiang Mai, the man who claimed to be baby Tippawan's father. What in the hell was he doing here? Had he been following them since confronting Somjit? Laht had no idea what was going on, but it was time for it to stop. He pulled to the side of the road. The taxi stopped behind him.
Immediately Laht was out of his car. Adrenaline coursed uncontrolled. He was going to kick the taxi driver's ass. At that moment he heard a woman shouting that someone was stealing a car. He turned in time to see a young Thai man easing himself into his Toyota. For a moment he was stunned to inaction. He found his legs just as his car sped away.
Nong noticed the Thai man as he exited the shiny Toyota at the edge of the street. The man wore clothes that spoke of money—lots of money. His face looked vaguely familiar but Nong couldn't place it. The well-dressed man headed straight toward the taxi parked behind him. He didn't close his car door and he left the engine running; his face was red with anger.
Nong's first thought was that the two men had had a minor accident and now there would be some screaming and cursing for entertainment. Maybe there would even be a fight. His second thought was pure inspiration. He could jump in the car and be gone before the man could stop him. Normally he wouldn't be so daring, but the yaba, marijuana, and beer had made him invincible. He wouldn't be caught; he was far too cunning for the police.
He stood from his seat and walked toward the Toyota, but kept a close eye on its owner. The man continued his threatening strut toward the taxi. Nong smiled to himself and slid into the driver's seat.
He heard a loud shout from the bars behind him. He glanced over and saw the girl who had given him such shitty service. The whore was telling everyone he was stealing the car. At that instant the owner of the Toyota turned to look. Nong slammed the door shut and sped away.
A shrill scream came from the back of the car. Nong hadn't thought there might be a passenger inside. He looked in the mirror and caught a glimpse of a woman in the back seat. Her screaming raked harsh across his ears. He couldn't get rid of her here, but he could shut her up. He floored the accelerator for an instant then jammed the brakes hard. The woman launched forward over the front seat. His fist struck a sharp blow to the back of her head. Her screams stopped immediately.
The nerve-rasping cry of a baby broke the momentary silence. It was more irritating than the woman's scream. He reached behind the seat for the baby. Through the rear window he saw the well-dressed man charging full speed toward the car. He forgot about the wailing baby, spun the wheel and raced down a narrow side road to his left. He had never been down this street before. He hoped it went somewhere.
Despite sprinting at top speed, Laht couldn't catch up with the car. Somjit's terrified face looked back at him through the rear window. He could hear her loud shrieks of terror.
"Somjit!" he shouted and redoubled his effort to catch his car.
At that moment the thief squealed to a stop. Laht hoped that the man had changed his mind. Then Somjit’s face disappeared from the rear window and the Toyota continued down the street going even faster than before.
Laht knew he would never catch up on foot. He needed a ride. He looked for a motorcycle taxi but none was within shouting distance. His feeling of helplessness grew as his new Toyota turned left on a side street and disappeared from sight. A honking horn pulled his attention to the road. It was the taxi driver from Chiang Mai. The last thing he wanted to do was continue his confrontation with a crazy man.
"Leave me alone!" Laht shouted. "I don't have time for you right now."
"Get in!" the taxi driver shouted back. "Or you'll never catch them."
After a second's hesitation, Laht slid into the passenger seat.
The taxi driver tore off in pursuit of the Toyota.
Pajeeka saw a flurry of activity as she neared the normally quiet cluster of beer-bars just south of the Alcazar Show. People were screaming and shouting and pointing. She pushed the buzzer signaling the baht-bus driver to stop. As she exited, she noticed a taxi and a new model Toyota parked illegally at the curb. Next she noticed that the man on the sidewalk was Laht.
At that instant, tires squealed and the Toyota sped away with Laht in hot pursuit.
Pajeeka threaded her way through the traffic and across the street. She angled south in the direction that Laht was running. As she made the other side, the taxi raced past her. It stopped long enough for Laht to climb inside and then sped away.
She didn't know what was going on, but she knew it wasn't good. She flagged down a passing motorcycle taxi. "One thousand baht to catch that taxi!" she cried.
The motorcycle driver didn't need more encouragement. Once Pajeeka was aboard, he tore away at a frightening speed. She shouted at him to slow a little and he did. She wanted to catch the taxi but she didn't want to die in the process.
As the motorcycle roared down the narrow street, Pajeeka called Isara from her cell phone but got his voice mail. "It's eight forty-five," her voice shrilled. "There's a problem and I think Laht is involved. Come to the bars just south of Alcazars on Second Road. I’ll meet you there."
As she clipped the phone back on the waistband of her jeans, she accidentally turned it off.
Chapter 47
Nuang's senses had been on high alert from the moment that she and Jon took a seat at the Sandy Bar. She fully expected to see her brother Anan make an appearance like he had the night before. After a few minutes had passed, she allowed herself to relax. She figured she was worried for nothing. Last night had only been her imagination.
She noticed the Toyota when it stopped in a no-parking zone at edge of the street. She watched as the driver exited his car and walked toward a taxi parked behind him. She had seen the man's face before but wasn't sure where. Suddenly she realized who he was—he was the young monk from the temple. She slipped from her seat and hid behind the bar.
"What are you doing?" Jon asked, staring down at her.
"Do you see that man? The Thai man over there, by the taxi?"
At that instant a shout came from the bar nearest Second Road. Jon looked up in time to see a new-mod
el Toyota speed away with a Thai man chasing it on foot. "Not any more. He just ran away. Who is he anyway? Is he the same man you saw last night? Is he your husband?"
"No, he's a monk," she answered.
From the corner of his eye he saw a Thai woman dash across the street and chase after the man who was chasing the Toyota. "He didn't look like a monk to me. Do you know the woman, too?"
"What woman?"
"The one chasing the monk."
The taxi pulled away from the curb, tires screeching. Somehow Jon knew the taxi was part of whatever was happening. Even more, he knew that Nuang was part of it too. A chill slid down his back. "What the hell's going on? Who are these people?"
When she didn't respond, he reached down and took her by the arm. "Nuang please, get up here and talk to me."
She peeked over the bar as she stood. She didn't see anyone except the usual evening crowd. "I don't know what's going on." She wondered if the woman Jon had mentioned could be Somjit. Who else would be here in Pattaya with the young monk? If they were both here, she knew her baby would be here, too. "Was the woman carrying a baby?"
"I didn't see a baby. Now tell me what is going on?"
"I told you I don't know."
Without warning, Nuang twisted her arm from his grasp and darted away.
It took a moment for Jon to react and chase after her. He caught her at the curb, grabbed her shoulder, and spun her around. "Stop this bullshit and tell me something."
Nuang almost fell when Jon grabbed her. She glanced down the street just in time to see a woman speeding away on the back of a motorcycle taxi. If it was Somjit, she wasn't carrying a baby. Her panic grew like wild bamboo. She swung her arm and dislodged Jon's hand from her shoulder. "Leave me alone."
He grabbed her by the wrists. "No, I won't leave you alone. What's wrong with you? If you tell me who those people are, I'll help you find them."
She balled her fists and twisted her arms violently to escape his grasp. When her right hand came free, it landed full force against his nose.
Jon staggered backwards. By reflex he raised his own fist but held it in check. He lowered his hand and cupped it over his nose.
Nuang turned and ran down the sidewalk.
Jon stared dumbfounded as Nuang sped away. His mind tried to rationalize what had just happened. She hadn't meant to hit him. Or, at least, he didn't think so. Just hours ago she had been his lover. Now she was acting like a total stranger. That man, the supposed monk, had triggered something. He wondered what the truth was.
He felt a slick dampness on his fingers. He looked down. Blood streaked down his arms and dribbled dark spots onto the dusty concrete. He needed to get home. He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket, clamped it over his nose, and hurried toward his condo. The bar-girls stared wide-eyed as he passed.
Nuang reached the side-street less than a minute after escaping Jon’s grip. Neither the taxi nor the motorcycle was in sight. She wasn't sure what to do. Images of her fist colliding with Jon's nose burned in her mind. She hadn't meant to do that. She needed to tell him she was sorry.
She ran back to the bars but didn't see Jon anywhere. She figured he had gone to his condo. She took a few steps in that direction before stopping. She couldn't go to the condo; Laht and Somjit might come back while she was gone. She ran back to the street and hurried down the sidewalk. Her eyes inspected every car that passed by.
Chapter 48
Nong smiled as he steered the Toyota down the side-street; no one would catch him tonight. He turned left at the next intersection. The street widened and he recognized where he was. He’d get rid of the car and soon be a lot richer.
The baby's crying continued unabated. The woman dangling across the seat moaned and coughed. She was coming awake. Nong swerved up a narrow road lined with deserted buildings and overgrown fields.
He turned off the headlights and coasted to a halt. He slid out of the car then reached back inside. He pulled the woman across the front seat and through the open door. She felt light as a feather as he tossed her into the weeds of the vacant lot.
He opened the rear door, grabbed the baby by the arm, and snatched it toward him. There was a small popping sound and the cry became more intense.
A motion caught his attention. He turned to see the woman pushing herself to a standing position. His heart stutter-stepped. It was Somjit. "What are you doing here?" he shouted. The baby screamed in his grasp.
"Put the baby down." Her words were thick-lipped and groggy.
Nong looked down as if seeing the baby for the first time. "Is this my baby?"
"No, it's not yours." She put her hands out like a beggar. "Please put the baby down."
Nong eyed her, "You're lying." He glanced down at the baby dangling from his fist. In the dim light of the deserted back street, he saw the baby was more farang than Thai. He reached an instant conclusion. His own wife had given birth to a baby that was not his. She had whored around with some farang, and he had fed and clothed her while she carried another man's child. Nong needed no drugs or alcohol to fuel his anger. It came straight from core of his soul.
"This time I will kill you both." He tossed the baby aside like so much trash. It landed amongst the weeds and the rubble. The crying stopped instantly.
"No, you bastard," Somjit exploded. "This time I will kill you."
Nong charged immediately, his fists lashing out in wild assault.
Somjit ducked and his blow glanced off the side of her head. His momentum carried him past her. Immediately she was on his back clawing, biting, and pounding with every ounce of fury inside her. Her hatred was so powerful that nothing would stop her until he was dead.
Nong twisted violently, trying to throw Somjit from his back. There was a sharp pain at his left ear. When he reached up, his hand landed on her head. The bitch was biting his ear off.
He grabbed a handful of hair and pulled with all his strength, but he couldn't remove her from either his back or his ear. In desperation he jumped up and backward with all his might. They landed hard on the ground with him on top, his back against her chest. There was a loud whoosh as the wind was knocked from her. Her grip loosened and he rolled away.
At once he was on his feet. He felt blood trickling down his neck from his mangled ear. He stepped forward determined to finish what had been started months ago. He kicked out at her with his foot. This time he aimed for her head instead of a pregnant stomach.
Unable to breathe, Somjit still found the strength and quickness to spin away. His foot missed her by millimeters. As she rolled, her hand touched something cold and hard. Even without seeing it, she knew what it was. She had held thousands of them in her lifetime. It was a piece of concrete reinforcing steel—rebar.
She looked up in time to see Nong start another vicious kick toward her face. By reflex she lashed out with the rebar, putting it on a collision course with his leg. The force of the blow nearly knocked the heavy metal from her hand. The sound of hard steel meeting shinbone cracked loud in the night. Nong fell down beside her, his face wild with pain.
Again Somjit rolled away. This time she came to her feet; her breath had returned. She brandished the rusty metal rod like a Siamese sword. Nong tried to stand but his right leg buckled under the weight. "Please," he pleaded, crabbing away from her. "Please don't hit me again. I am your husband."
Somjit stepped closer, now holding the steel rod like a baseball bat.
"I am the father of your baby," Nong whimpered.
Somjit unleashed two savage swings. The first shattered the arm Nong held up to protect himself. The second glanced off the side of his head, peeling away a bloody flap of skin and hair. She raised the rebar for the third time, ready to deliver her revenge. From nowhere a hand snatched the rebar from her grasp. She spun to attack whoever was interrupting her moment of vengeance.
The Toyota had a big head start. It was only by luck that Laht had seen it turn left off the narrow side-soi. When they reached the intersection, the
car was nowhere to be seen. They sped down the street even though there was nothing to chase.
Laht glanced up each lane and driveway they passed. Suddenly, he saw his car in a dirt alleyway to his right. "Stop!" he shouted and Surat braked the taxi to a halt.
At once, Laht was out of the car. He ran back and raced up the alley. Ahead, he saw Somjit, standing over a man who was cowering on the ground. She held something in her hand, but in the dim light he couldn't tell what it was. He saw her swing like a cricket player. Immediately, she swung again.
Laht was nearly upon them. He could hear the man begging for mercy. As she raised her arms high for the third time, Laht saw the rusty metal rod clutched in her hands. He wrenched it from her just as she started her swing. "Stop it!" he shouted at the top of his lungs.
Unexpectedly Somjit threw herself at him, her arms flailing, her hands grabbing insanely at the length of rebar.
"I said stop it," Laht screamed again.
This time Somjit heard his words. She burst into tears as she threw her arms around him.
"Where is the baby?"
Somjit pointed toward the field to her left but refused to look. Her crying became loud wails of grief.
Laht looked where she pointed but didn't see anything that looked like a baby. If it was crying, he didn't hear it. Behind him, a motorcycle roared up the street and stopped with its headlights illuminating the scene. He turned to look.
"Look out!" a shrill voice warned. It was the last thing he heard.
Pajeeka had guessed right when she told the motorcycle driver to take the first left. She hadn't seen where the Toyota or the taxi had gone, but this street felt right. Three blocks ahead she saw the taxi at the side of the road. Laht was on the street running back in her direction. Suddenly, he darted up a narrow side-street and disappeared from sight.