18mm Blues (28 page)

Grady told her, also told her about the yellow sapphires he'd be looking for.

“That'll take you most of the day, won't it?”

“Possibly. Why?”

“I don't want to be tagging along.”

“What do you want to do?”

“Nothing special, just look around, shop.”

There goes the sync, Grady thought. “You have some money?” he asked.

“I've plenty, thank you.”

They went down in the elevator. It made three stops to take people on. It was as though speaking were forbidden during the ride. Outside at the hotel's entrance Julia agreed they'd meet at the suite at five or sooner. But no later than five. The doorman beckoned a taxi. Julia would walk. Grady got a possessive peck on the cheek from her before he was taken away.

He didn't find Prentis's suite of yellow sapphires that day, looked at many yellows but most were too chrome, others too pale. He knew precisely the gentle but bright yellow Prentis wanted. For lunch he had a bowl of noodles and some satay chicken at a street stand, got caught in the daily afternoon downpour, incessantly wondered what Julia might be doing. He returned to the hotel at five sharp, more than half expecting she wouldn't be there.

But she was.

On the sofa, reading. Sandals kicked off, legs elevated, skirt hiked up shamelessly. On the rug within easy reach was a tray holding a bottle of Evian, glasses, lime quarters, and a bowl of fruit. Grady caught the hello kiss her lips threw at him. “Find your sapphires?”

“No.”

“Good.”

“What?”

“I didn't say anything.”

“You said good.”

“Did I? I didn't mean to.”

Grady helped himself to the Evian. Squeezed in some lime. “What did you do today?” he asked, sitting on the rug with his back against the sofa.

“Lots of things.”

“Like what?”

“I earned some merits. On the street just a couple of blocks from here a woman had a stack of little wooden cages with birds in them and a sign promising merits toward a better next life to anyone who'd set them free.”

“For how much?”

“A hundred bahts each. What's that? Four dollars? I went for six cages. The birds flew right out, took off like they were a hell of a lot happier.”

“Yeah, and they probably flew right back as soon as you were gone.”

“I doubt that. Anyway, twenty-four dollars was cheap enough considering what I possibly had to gain. Or perhaps you don't think so. We've never discussed such things, have we, souls and so on?”

A shrug from Grady.

“Then, after the bird woman, I had my palms and my feet read.”

“Your feet read?”

“Two holy-looking guys in orange robes were doing it from the tailgate of an old station wagon. One did palms, the other did feet. The one who read my feet spent a lot of time doing it, said I was an extremely complex person, more complex than I knew. He was particularly fascinated with the crease between the ball and the second toe of my left foot. Took off his dark glasses to get a better look at it. I was artistic, he said, and very angry, which I don't understand at all, but at least he was half right.”

“Did you manage to do any shopping?”

“Not much. At a bookstore I found another Alice Bailey and I bought a paper umbrella from a vendor on the street. The man said it was the kind from Baw Sang so possibly it's one that William's live-in did.” She reached back around the end of the sofa for the umbrella, opened it and held it above her. It was bright pink, four to five feet in diameter, hand-painted with leaves of green and blossoms of orange with purple centers. The happy colors were infectious. Julia got up and did a haughty walk and some snappy pivots, a fashion model's phlegmatic show-off strut while spinning the umbrella so its ribs and floral pattern blurred and blended. Finally she dropped backward over the fat arm of a chair and deep into its lap, her legs shooting nearly straight up.

Grady applauded with his eyes. “So that was your day, huh?”

“Not all of it. The best came last. I wanted to go to the Wat Po, that temple William spoke of last night. To see where he stole food from the big reclining buddha. I asked a man on the street for directions but he must have misunderstood, or, now that I think of it, perhaps he didn't, because I ended up in an out-of-the-way patch of overgrown plants and trees where there was a stone shrine about the size of a doghouse and what must have been a thousand phalluses.”

“You're making this up.”

“I am not.”

“It sounds invented.”

“Maybe that's because the word
phalluses
didn't exactly trip off my tongue.” Her grin was a fraction wicked. “I don't believe I've ever before used the word. It's self-conscious and archeological. Would you mind if I synonym it with something more comfortable, like
dick
, for instance?”

“Whatever.” Grady was enjoying this just exposed side of her.

“Well, as I said, there was this little untended gardenlike area with a shrine in it, and all around were these dicks. Hundreds and hundreds of idealized hard-ons, much, much, and I mean much larger than life. Picture if you will”—Grady was indeed picturing—“a shiny red lacquered dick about seven feet tall propped against a tree. There were several like that.”

“Bet you got out of there in a hurry.”

“That was my initial inclination but I brazened it out. The fat, stubbier wooden dicks nearest the shrine had a lot of bamboo joss sticks stuck in them. It looked painful. And I couldn't help but feel sorry for the old wooden ones that had tumbled over and were rotting away.”

Grady went into the bathroom and washed up. Inspecting in the mirror he realized that his shave wasn't lasting as long as his shaves usually did. The humidity was to blame, he decided. Also decided against a second shave inasmuch as there'd been morning lovemaking. Thought they might try for an American restaurant that night. Two consecutive nights of authentic Thai would be an overdose. Wondered what William was doing. He'd sort of expected they'd be hearing from William.

“Are you still going out looking for those sapphires tomorrow?” Julia called in to him.

“Yeah, why?”

“Just asking.”

The next two days, Friday and Saturday, went about the same.

While Grady sought the yellow sapphires, Julia plied the mystical mélange of Bangkok. She had spiritual readings with three
maw dos
(doctors who see) and came within a fraction of impulse of getting a protective tattoo. When she told Grady about how close she'd come to having a fierce-looking rendition of Mae Khongha, “Mother of Water,” inked forever on her right buttock to ward off evil spirits, she expected reproach. However, all she got from him was a rather unimpressed
really?

Grady figured she was helping herself to such a concentrated dose of spiritual beliefs that she'd soon wear away her enthusiasm. Besides, the phase would dissipate once they were back in San Francisco out of range of so much exposure.

On Sunday they slept late and took an afternoon walk to Lumpini Park, named for Buddha's birthplace, where they watched the flying of intricately constructed kites and looping, diving aerial fights between certain ones designated male and female.

Monday everything happened.

Right off, the first dealer Grady called on had the round-cut yellow sapphires. Not the entire forty-stone suite but about thirty of it with enough matching rough on hand to finish the rest. Though the dealer must have gathered that Grady was eager for these yellows, he didn't take advantage, asked a fair price and was reciprocally answered by Grady paying him half then and there and pledging the balance in cash upon delivery of the goods in San Francisco within the month.

Done?

Done.

Grady, light of heart, hurried back to the Oriental. Catching a flight home foremost in his mind. He'd spend tomorrow night getting over lag in his own bed.

Julia wasn't at the hotel. Grady hoped she wouldn't be out all day. He tried phoning Singapore Airlines for a reservation. Its circuits were busy. Decided he might as well pack, his things, not hers. He wouldn't even attempt to achieve the degree of neatness she'd insist on. He was stuffing worn-once socks and rolls of belts into the toes of shoes when the phone chirped. It would be Julia, he thought, using her good sense, calling in.

But it was William.

As few as possible words were wasted on their opening exchange. William was anxious to tell him: “Your goods are ready.”

Unexpected marvelous news. Grady had been under the impression the rubies wouldn't be cut for a month or more. “How do they look?” he asked, toning down his anticipation.

“You need to see.”

“Will you bring them or what?”

“Best you come here.”

“I'm on my way.” And only a few minutes later Grady was outside the hotel, an impatient fourth in the waiting order for a taxi. He'd improved his standing to next when a taxi arrived to deposit Julia. Grady told her where he was off to and why. She reminded him that William had advised taking a water taxi. Grady had forgotten that. The doorman directed them to the hotel's own pier on the river a short walk away.

A dozen or so water taxis were there, awaiting a fare. They were very similar, about twenty feet long with shallow drafts and sharp, extended, upswept prows. Black canopies above their seating areas. Three wide boards situated from side to side served as seats for passengers, six the normal limit, two behind two behind two. The taxis appeared well kept, were painted an olive shade with an aqua and black stripe at the waterline.

The only apparent difference among them was the drivers, particularly the way they were dressed. The orchid-patterned shirt and orange sailor hat one driver had on drew Grady's and Julia's attention to him.

They stepped aboard his taxi, chose the seat nearest the stern. Grady again used William's business card to convey the desired destination. The driver held the card about six inches from his eyes, frowned at it and then all at once transformed his face from frown to smile—an unfortunate smile that activated a lot of chasmic creases and revealed that five of his front teeth, three lowers and two uppers, were no longer with him. He was, Grady now saw, a much older man, dressed a bit too gaily for his years. The turned-down brim of his orange sailor hat nearly concealed his eyes, his lids were a watery pink, the whites gone creamy. Possibly he wasn't as old as he looked, Grady thought, possibly the sun had taken an early extreme toll on him, if not the sun a dissipating life. Didn't matter, Grady told himself, in fact, an older man might be a more experienced driver and would know this river, which appeared wide and something to be reckoned with now that it was slipping directly below just a thin hull away.

The driver nonchalantly started up the engine, gave it more than ample throttle, causing two shotlike pops from the exhaust. The water at the stern riled up, as though angry at having been awakened. For a long moment the driver kept the boat in place.

Grady expected they would gradually pull away from the pier, not get up to any appreciable speed until they were out a ways. And even then it would be slow going.

However, the engine was allowed to have its way all at once. The boat leaped forward, its prow sprang up. A sharp, banking turn was executed and they were under way, headed upriver, skimming along at what Grady guessed had to be a good twenty miles an hour. He glanced back to confirm the driver, who seemed in complete control of both himself and the craft. Grady also took in the engine. It was a small, inline, six-cylinder Chevrolet engine from a midfifties model. A hundred horsepower perhaps, plenty of go. It was mounted on a long drive shaft that extended down into the water. On the business end of the shaft was the propeller. The boat had no rudder. That which propelled it also steered it by being swiveled to the left or right, something the gambrel device allowed. Grady, adequately assured that nothing was amiss, settled down, hugged Julia to him and took in the near shore. Noticed, among numerous other worth-noticing things, a woman washing clothes in the river a short ways from another woman taking a drink from the river not far from still another woman urinating in it.

Just before coming to the Phrapinklao Bridge the driver cut across the river to its west bank for the Klong Bangkok Noi, which was only a third as wide as the river but still a major waterway. After five miles of the Bangkok Noi a change of course to be on the Klong Bang Kruat, and after only three-quarters of a mile came a lesser canal followed by a swift series of lefts and rights within a bewildering network of ways that were hardly wider than water-filled ditches. A final hairpin turn at no letup of speed and there it was again.

The Lady So Remembered Gem-Cutting Factory.

As William had predicted the trip by water taxi had taken only about half the time and had certainly been more comfortable.

Grady told the driver to wait. His intention was to be there with William as briefly as politeness would allow, keep this strictly business, so they could get back to the hotel, make flight reservations, pack and check out. Perhaps there'd be time for a nice dinner before heading for the airport.

William was in his office, practically lying back in his desk chair with his crossed legs up, eyes closed, face up to the ceiling. Grady and Julia were within a few feet of him before he sensed their presence. He stood immediately. He and Grady did a handshake. Julia, as though William was a longtime dear friend, surprised him with cheek kisses. Which Grady thought was odd of her. He got right to the rubies.

They were lying on a white sorting pad on the desk. Four stones with their weights noted.

An oval, two rounds and a cabochon.

The oval at 6.25 carats was largest and, as good fortune would have it, the best of the faceted. But not by much. The two rounds at 3.95 carats each were also beauties. And the fat, smooth hump of the 10.60-carat cabochon was glowing, as though it had its own furnace.