The Farang Affair

by J. F. Gump

  "Hurry," she shouted to the motorcycle driver. The front wheel lifted from the pavement as the bike shot forward. He slowed only a little when he entered the alley. Ahead sat the stolen Toyota. To one side two people were embracing.

  Pajeeka tapped the driver on the shoulder and pointed. He slowed his motorcycle to a stop and aimed his headlight at the scene. The faces of Laht and Somjit turned toward her.

  A movement behind the couple caught her eye. It took a moment to recognize what she saw. A limping figure was edging toward Laht and Somjit. It was like something from a horror movie. Blood flowed in torrents down his face, his left hand dangled useless at his side, his right held a thick piece of wood raised and ready to strike.

  "Look out!" Pajeeka screamed.

  The club cracked against Laht's head. The man lifted the club for a second blow aimed at Somjit. Pajeeka reached Somjit just in time to push her to the ground. The club barely missed them both.

  Pajeeka scrambled to her feet. "You just made a big mistake, lizard dick," she hissed. She picked up a heavy metal rod laying at her feet. With one swing she destroyed his remaining good arm. By reflex she swung again. This time the rebar embedded itself just above the man's left cheekbone.

  Pajeeka's eyes went wide with terror. The man was dead. She knew it as sure as she knew her own name. She stepped back, recoiling from what she had done. Without warning, gut wrenching nausea washed through her and she vomited again and again.

  It could have been seconds, minutes, or hours before a honking horn invaded her world of shock. She looked up expecting to see the motorcycle but it was gone. In its place was the taxi.

  Surat had watched out the rear window of the taxi as Laht disappeared down a narrow lane. Just as he started to back up and follow, a motorcycle came roaring toward him. He braked and waited for it to pass. At the last instant, the motorcycle swerved up the same alley where Laht had gone. Surat sped back to the intersection and followed.

  Just ahead sat the Toyota with its lights off and the motorcycle with its lights on. When he approached, the motorcycle drove away. Surat's headlights shone on two women. One he recognized as the woman from Chiang Mai, the other he had never seen before. He didn't see the young doctor anywhere. He didn't know what was happening but his instincts told him it was not good.

  He got out of the taxi and ran to the women. To his right lay the young doctor. Not far away he saw a mangled body with a metal rod protruding from the side of its head. He turned toward the women.

  "Where is the baby?"

  Pajeeka responded by vomiting again.

  Somjit pointed and walked to her left. When she stooped and picked up the limp body, he didn't interfere. She pulled the baby close to her breast and released a wail unlike anything he had ever heard. It put cold bumps on his skin.

  He took Somjit by the arm and pulled her toward the taxi. He wanted to take the baby from her but he was afraid of what he might find. Once Somjit and the baby were in the back seat, he went back to get the woman who was still vomiting and the young doctor who lay quiet as death.

  "Help me get this man to the car!" he shouted.

  Pajeeka took a deep breath. "Give me a minute. I've never killed anyone before."

  Surat struggled to gather the dead weight of Laht in his arms. "Please, I need your help now. We may not have minutes."

  Pajeeka's mind recovered a small degree of clarity. "You're right. We may not have minutes." She helped Surat carry Laht to the taxi.

  Seconds later, Surat drove back down the alley. They left the dead body of Nong in the grass and rubble.

  "Turn left," Pajeeka said when they reached the main street. "The hospital is in that direction."

  At Second Road they turned north. The hospital was less than three blocks away. Surat kept his attention on the traffic and his hand on the horn.

  Somjit stared out through the car window as they passed down the street. That's when she saw Nuang. She was in view for less than an instant. Two blocks later, they arrived at the hospital. Somjit jumped from the taxi and carried little Tippawan inside. Surat and Pajeeka wrestled Laht from the rear seat.

  A doctor took the baby from Somjit as she entered the hospital. She tried to follow but a nurse stopped her. A moment later she watched in horror as the attendants whisked Laht's motionless body past on a gurney. Her emotions crashed. A single loud wail issued from her throat. It was all she could do to stop another. She pulled her arms tight to her chest and swayed back and forth. Small whimpers escaped her lips.

  Surat's body shook as he took a seat in the hospital waiting area. He cradled his head in his hands. The last fifteen minutes had drained him. He had come to Pattaya to find Nuang, but instead he had found limp bodies and dead people. It was a nightmare. He wished he had stayed in Chiang Mai. If he had, maybe none of this would have happened.

  Pajeeka stood to one side away from both Somjit and Surat and made two calls. The first was to the police. "I have killed a man," she said calmly, then told them where to find the body. "I'm at the Pattaya International Hospital with the people he attacked. I'll wait here." Her second call was to Isara.

  Chapter 49

  Nuang had been pacing frantically up and down the sidewalk on Second Road since the night had gone crazy and everyone had disappeared. She didn't know where Laht and the taxi or the girl on the motorcycle had gone except down the now deserted side-street. She didn't know what to do. Maybe they would come back to the bars by the condo. Maybe Jon would too. Jon had said he would help her if she told him what was going on, and she needed his help now. She hurried back toward the bars.

  She hadn't gone far when she heard a horn blaring and tires screeching. She turned to look. It was the taxi racing zig-zag through the heavy traffic. Through the front window she saw a woman she didn't recognize. The driver's face was turned away. As the vehicle sped past, she saw two things very clearly. First she saw that the taxi was from Chiang Mai, and second she saw Somjit's face through the rear window. Her heart leaped to her throat.

  She hadn't seen the driver's face, but she knew it was Surat. She wondered if her baby was in the backseat with Somjit.

  What little reason she had left evaporated and she ran after the taxi. Her terror spiked when the taxi turned toward the hospital. People only went to the hospital when they were very sick, very hurt, or dying. She tried to run faster but her legs denied her. She slowed to a walk when she saw the taxi in the hospital driveway.

  A man and a woman were struggling to pull a limp figure from the back seat. Somjit was carrying a baby – Tippawan! – through the emergency room doors.

  As she watched, two hospital workers came outside with a gurney to help with the unconscious man. When the cabby turned, she got a good look at his face. It was Surat.

  Nuang was torn between running away and running to the hospital to make sure her baby and Somjit were okay. A cry of torment came through the sliding doors as Surat and the others wheeled the man inside. The eerie wail made up her mind; she ran through the emergency room entrance.

  Directly ahead stood Somjit, her face twisted in anguish. To her left was the woman from the front seat of the taxi. To her right sat Surat with his head resting in the palms of his hands.

  She ran to Somjit, "Where is my baby?"

  Somjit looked up, her eyes streaming tears. "I’ve hurt our baby," she moaned.

  Nuang's took Somjit by the hand. "What happened?"

  Surat's voice interrupted. "You have shamed me. That's what happened. I should kill you."

  Nuang cringed. Surat had never talked like that to her before. Despite her need to see little Tippawan and make sure she was okay, Nuang turned and ran from the hospital.

  Surat wasn't sure what he felt as he watched Nuang disappear through the exit. He glanced over at Pajeeka and then at Somjit. Both stared wide-eyed but neither spoke. Surat rushed out of the hospital as fast as his feet would carry him.

  Outside, he didn't see Nuang anywhere. He sprinted down the driveway in
pursuit of nothing. As he reached the street, he was stopped by two policemen.

  Nuang had been sure Surat would follow her from the hospital and she knew he could outrun her. Halfway down the drive, she veered to her right and hid behind a bush. A second later Surat burst through the doors and headed toward the street.

  She heard someone shout "Halt!" and all noise stopped. A second later she heard men talking but too low for her to hear. She peeked through the bushes and saw two policemen escorting Surat back inside the hospital.

  Once Surat and the policemen were out of sight Nuang hurried back toward Second Road. She almost collided with an older man in her haste. She mumbled an apology and caught a baht-bus south toward Jon's condo.

  The security guard and the night boy smiled politely as she passed through the lobby. She tried to smile back but couldn't. She stepped off the elevator on the third floor. Her footsteps echoed off the marble floors and the hard plaster walls. She tapped lightly at Jon's door and waited.

  Chapter 50

  Isara Horungruang was in his hotel room taking a shower when his phone rang. He didn't realize Pajeeka had called until after he had dressed for dinner and checked his voice mail. "It's eight forty-five," her message said, her voice was shrill. "There's a problem and I think Laht is involved. Come to the bars just south of Alcazars on Second Road. I will meet you there."

  He phoned back right away but got her voice-mail. He called his driver. "Do you know a place called Alcazars?"

  "It's not far, sir. Maybe ten or fifteen minutes."

  Five minutes later they were creeping their way up Second Road. Baht-buses, tour buses, motorcycles, and cars stretched as far north as Isara could see. So much for a ten or fifteen minute drive. Isara settled back into his seat and recalled the events that had led him to this place at this time. His deceased brother Jum came first to mind. If not for Jum, he would be home in Phitsanulok. Next he considered the Bongkot family, especially Math, his brother's illegitimate daughter, and her sister Nuang with the braided hair and the half farang baby. Isara knew her, too. Because of Jum he knew the whole family.

  By a twist of fate his son and a young woman named Somjit had become entangled with his brother's past. Isara wanted to make sure the past stayed secret. What would Laht think if he ever learned that his uncle Jum, the monk to whom he had paid six month's of tribute, was the father of Nuang's sister. It would taint precious memories and he couldn't let that happen—not to his big brother. He had to find Nuang and her husband. He had to talk to them before either of them talked to Laht. After what he had learned from Anya, he knew they needed to talk to him, too. A sensation of impending doom gnawed at him. He hoped Pajeeka was wrong and that Laht was still in Chiang Mai. His driver edged them north toward Alcazar's and the beer bars.

  His cell phone shook him from his thoughts. "Hello."

  "Did you get my message?" came Pajeeka's voice. "Where are you?"

  "I'm stuck in traffic. Why did you turn off your phone?"

  "Forget that now. I'm at the Pattaya International Hospital with Laht. I think he will be okay."

  His emotions jerked at her words. Horrifying scenes of smashed bodies raced through his head. "Hospital? What are you talking about?"

  "There was a fight. Laht was hurt, hit on the head with a club. He's still unconscious."

  "This is crazy! Laht has never been in fight. I'm at the light at Pattaya Klang. Am I far away?"

  "No. You're very near. Your driver will know. I have to go now. A policeman wants to talk to me. I think I have a big problem." Her phone clicked silent.

  "Policeman?" he shouted into the dead connection. "What policeman?" He turned off his phone, took a deep breath, and forced himself to be calm. To his driver he said, "Get me to the Pattaya International Hospital as fast as you can."

  Once past the stoplight their speed picked up and held steady at about four kilometers per hour, only slightly faster than he could run. His driver pointed ahead and to their left. "There," he said.

  Isara looked. A glowing sign appeared briefly between buildings. The hospital was less than four blocks away. Two blocks later the traffic came to a standstill.

  "I'm walking the rest of the way," Isara said and exited the car. "Meet me at the hospital."

  Isara entered the emergency room area just as Pajeeka was being escorted toward the exit by three policemen.

  "Excuse me," Isara stopped them. "This woman is my employee. What's the problem?"

  "Murder," one officer responded. "I saw the body with my own eyes."

  "He was going to kill Laht," Pajeeka interjected. "You know me, Khun Isara. I may be crazy, but I would never kill someone unless I had to."

  Isara nodded, his smile thin. He slipped a business card from his pocket. "I am Isara Horungruang. Tell your boss I'll be calling him later. He knows who I am." He nodded toward Pajeeka. "You will take good care of her." It was not a request, it was a command. "I don't want her strip searched, I don't want her questioned without me present, and I don't want her in a common jail cell. I want her in a decent hotel room. I will pay for everything. Bonuses for the room guards. Do you understand?"

  The policemen exchanged nervous glances. One officer spoke, "I guarantee she will be treated with the utmost respect."

  Isara let his smile brighten a little. He slipped his hand in his pocket and pealed four 500 baht-bills from his stash. He motioned the man aside. "I'm sure you've had a stressful night. I want to buy dinner for your families." He folded three bills tight and slid them into the officer's shirt pocket. "May I speak with my client in private for a minute?"

  The officer smiled and nodded his consent.

  Isara pulled Pajeeka to one side of the waiting area. He kept his tone low but his tension showed plainly. "What happened?"

  Pajeeka related the evening as accurately as she remembered. Her stomach turned as she recalled the fatal blow.

  "Do you know the man you killed?" Isara asked soft and soothing.

  "No, but I'm sure he was Somjit's husband. That's Somjit over there." She glanced in the direction of the woman who was standing with her arms wrapped tight around herself. "I think he deserved to die, but I get sick whenever I think about it."

  Isara looked briefly at the woman then turned back to Pajeeka. "I understand. Are there other witnesses?"

  "That man over there." She raised her hand slightly in the direction of Surat. "He is Nuang's husband. Nuang was here earlier but she ran away. The police kept him here for questioning but they're not arresting him. His surname is Duansawang. I'm sure of that."

  Isara nodded. He handed the last baht-note to Pajeeka. "In case you need anything. Don't worry; we'll be back in Phitsanulok by tomorrow evening."

  "I trust you, Isara." On impulse, she added, "What about my vacation?"

  Despite the situation, Isara couldn't stop his laugh. "I haven't forgotten. I want to see Laht now. I'll see you later tonight. I promise."

  He stepped aside and let the policemen resume their duties. "Take good care of her," he said as they left the hospital. He went to the registration desk, "I want to see my son. His name is Laht Horungruang."

  The nurse made a brief call then said, "Dr. Phansak wants to see you. His office is there."

  Isara hurried to the door she had pointed at.

  Inside the room sat a young doctor. He stood, smiled, and wai'ed at Isara. "I am Dr. Phansak. I'm pleased to meet you. You don't know me, but your son is my friend. We met in medical school. Laht will be okay. He's had a nasty blow to his head but there is no internal bleeding. He's awake and coherent."

  "I want to see him."

  "Right now he's getting a few stitches. I think it’s best to wait until that is done."

  "Are you sure he will be okay?"

  "We'll be keeping him overnight just to be safe. I think he can leave tomorrow. You can relax; we'll take good care of him. Like I said, he's my friend and I look forward to talking to him myself."

  "Could you have the nurse let me k
now when he's in his room?"

  "Yes. Also, I'll let him know you're here."

  "Thank you," Isara said.

  In the waiting room, he saw a nurse leading Somjit into the treatment area. Surat was already gone. He went to the registration desk. "Is that young woman okay?"

  "I think she'll be fine," the nurse smiled. "The doctor will examine her just to be safe."

  "What happened to the man who was here? I think his name is Surat."

  "If you mean the man who talked to the police, he stepped outside less than a minute ago."

  He thanked the woman, then walked to the exit and looked out. The scene set him in motion.

  Chapter 51

  Jon's nose had stopped bleeding by the time he got back to his room. He went directly to the bathroom and inspected himself in the mirror. Blood was everywhere, on his face, his hands, his arms, and his clothes. No wonder everyone had stared at him. He looked like he'd been beaten half to death.

  He stripped off his blood-mottled shirt and pants and washed himself clean. He put his clothes in the basin and filled it with cold water. It probably wouldn't help, but it was all he could think to do. If the laundry couldn't get the spots out, he would throw them away.

  He grabbed a beer from the fridge and took a long swallow. It didn't do much to calm his nerves. He hadn't smoked pot in years but he wished he had a fat joint now. His hand shook as he lit a cigarette.

  He replayed the events from the bar. It had all happened so fast. One minute he and Nuang had been talking to the bar-girls and the next minute she had gone wild. Who in the hell were those people? She had said the man was a monk, but that was an obvious lie. If the man wasn't her husband, he was probably her brother or a boyfriend. He figured the woman was probably a sister or some other relative. She had already admitted she’d run away from her husband and abandoned her baby. God only knew what else she had done.