Bangkok Burn (19 page)

I drove fast. Uncle Mike put his seatbelt on, giving me a worried look. The overweight SUV slid around corners barely holding the road but we made good time. Five minutes later I pulled into the parking lot of the Koh Kong Resort. I ran into the lobby and up to reception.

“Hi. Is Sonny at the resort?” I asked the girl behind the counter. I’d sold Sonny Wong the crocodiles for the show at Safari World. He was the general manager of Safari World. Hong Kong Chinese, born and bred, Sonny wasn’t above lining his pockets when the chance arose. The chance had arisen.

“Let me check for you, sir.” She gave me a sweet smile, fiddled with some papers on the counter…

I could hear sirens racing past outside on the main highway. They didn’t turn in. They would be responding to the call from this end.

The girl spoke in rapid fire Khmer and handed me the phone.

“Sonny, it’s Chance. Can you come see me? I’m in the lobby.”

“Chance, great to hear from you. Get yourself a drink. I’ll be there in a moment. Wow, what a surprise.”

I gave the phone back to girl and went to entrance looking out. Everything seemed normal, but we didn’t have a lot of time.

Sonny came bouncing down the steps, hand extended, a big smile on his pinched face. I grabbed his hand and pulled him away from the receptionist.

“No time to talk, Sonny. I need your boat and I need six guys to load it. There’s a hundred thousand and a new Lexus in it for you.” I watched Sonny’s eyes as they darted to and fro, calculating.

“When?”

“Now.”

He turned to the girl at reception and told her something in Khmer. She picked up the phone and said something into it.

“Show me the Lexus.”

Fifteen minutes later, we were standing on the beach, the Lexus being covered in a tarpaulin by two of the six guys who had helped load the boat. Sonny was smiling, a hundred thousand lining his pockets. If he guessed what had been loaded, he didn’t show it and didn’t ask.

“Send the boat back safely okay?”

“Sure, don’t worry. Just a little trip to Hat Lek and it will be back. Not more than an hour. Don’t worry.”

I called Cheep and told him what had happened. We climbed on board and Chai nudged the throttles to full power, pushing the boat boy out of the way and taking the helm. We rounded the long pier to our right and Chai kept the wheel over and the throttle wide open. I could see the restaurant through Chai’s Steiners, Cheep and his boys waiting.

“Wow – what a rush, man. That brought back memories. Phew, man that was close.” Uncle Mike laughed, putting his arm across my shoulder. I hugged him tight. He shouted in my ear, “Thanks, Chance. I never doubted you’d come to get me.” He reached over and punched Chai in the shoulder, “You too, man.” Chai grinned.

I hugged him tighter.

Uncle Mike’s Story

20 May 2010 Pak Nam 9:30 pm

We sat in the sala
, pergola to you Farang, at the bottom of the garden. The sala was raised a meter off the ground for a view of the river, but surrounded by bushes and trees, giving privacy to the occupants.

Occupying the sala were Joom, Uncle Mike, Cheep and me. Pim was up at the main house. Helping the aunts tidy up after the dinner that Mother had organized to celebrate Uncle Mike’s safe return. We were drinking whiskey sodas and Uncle Mike smoked a joint, Mother disapproving, but reaching over and lighting it for him when he couldn’t find his lighter. Uncle Mike loved Mother like a sister, would have loved her as a wife, had she not been Por’s woman. I think the feeling was mutual and over the years it had developed into something pure and selfless. A deep friendship based on unconditional love.

We sat cross-legged on reed mats laid on the teak floor of the sala. It was hot and humid but fans with cooling air kept a steady cool breeze wafting our way. ‘Yaa Gun Yeung’, mosquito repellant, their green spiral coils hung from the tops of empty soda bottles, their scent mixing with the scent of jasmine from the bushes nearby. Uncle Mike passed me the joint. Mother frowned. I grinned at her and took another hit.

“I don’t want to spoil the mood, Uncle Mike, but if you’re cool with it, can you tell me more about what happened?”

I passed the joint to Cheep but he waved his hand and I handed it back to Uncle Mike. He took it and lifted it to his lips, sucking the smoke in deep and holding it. He held it and then blew a little towards Joom. She sniffed in, smiled at me, and then waved the smoke away.

“Yeah, it’s cool. It was heavy though. I went out to meet a chick at the airport and, as I came out of the house, I got shot by a dart. The next thing I woke up in the back of a van wearing the hood. Then they injected me with something and when I woke up again I was in the cargo hold of a fishing boat. It was hot as hell in the day but they fed me water and rice.” He reached across and touched Joom’s arm. “Dinner was yummy by the way. Then I think it was the Saturday or Sunday, I spoke to you. I didn’t know that then but I’ve worked it out since.”

“It was Sunday.”

“Yeah, Sunday, and that Farang, he wasn’t there long. Just for the call. I heard him leave shortly after. We weren’t that far off a beach. I could hear shouts of people playing, and jet skis. Then about two days ago we started moving again. Then I was brought ashore and after a short trip in the pick-up I saw you and Chai.”

“So you must have been on the Gulf side the whole time? That whole business with the Hatteras was just a diversion.”

Mother started getting up.

“I must go up to the house and see how the girls are getting on. You need to talk with Pim. Don’t smoke too much.” She gave me a hug - we were among close family - and kissed my forehead. She held the back of my neck and looked in my eyes.

“Job’s not done yet. You have to find who did this to us.” I nodded. She stroked my hair and kissed Uncle Mike giving him a hug. “So glad you’re safe. You will stay with us for a few days, until we can find who did this.”

“Yeah, sure, babe. I’d like to see Por if I can.”

“We’ll see if it can be arranged. But tomorrow you must rest more and follow Dr. Tom’s advice.”

“Okay, darling. Good night. See you tomorrow.” Mother left us alone.

“Did you hear anything else?” I asked Uncle Mike.

“No, not till this morning. Jesus, just this morning. Feels like a lifetime ago now. I heard the guy call someone when we were on the bridge. It sounded like he was getting instructions. I don’t speak Khmer but it sounded like he was saying ‘yes’ a lot.”

“Makes sense. Right up until I heard them shout in Cambodian, I thought at least one of them would be Lisp.”

“Lisp?”

“Yeah, my nickname for the guy. He had a lisp.”

“Yeah I noticed that. Funny though, he didn’t say a word apart from talking to you.”

“Wasn’t he the one who beat you?”

“No, that was one of the others.”

“It’s weird. I can’t figure it out. Both times when they could have taken the money, they screwed up by trying to take me. Why would anyone do that? Why not just take the money or kill me?”

Uncle Mike let out a long plume of smoke. “That’s simple, dude. They wanted you and the money.”

“Sure, but why?”

Cheep took our glasses and began the top up. A glass of whiskey is seldom finished. We just drink heavily diluted whiskey until the bottle is empty.

Uncle Mike was very stoned. So was I. He sat up straight and put his hands on knees breathing in deeply. He held the breath and then released it slowly, until I could see him push his stomach muscles in to squeeze that last bit of air out. Then he lifted the joint to his mouth, the joint held between the second and third fingers of his right hand. The left hand joining the right, thumbs together with a small hole to draw on. He sucked deep, making a sharp whoosh sound with his cupped palms. The joint flared a bright orange that grew in length. He held the smoke for a count of thirty, slowly releasing it, in a long thin stream. It floated among us like a fog on a river.

“I was kidnapped before you and Por were bombed. The bomb attack and the kidnapping are two separate events. The kidnapper has proven, twice, that he doesn’t want you dead. You weren’t meant to survive the bomb attack.”

“I’m not so sure about that. There was CCTV on the floor. I’d just left and was entering the lift when the bomb went off. If anyone has tapped into their CCTV, or just watching it, they would have seen that I’d left. We won’t know more until we get the police forensics report.”

“Shit, man. That was more than a week ago.”

“Forensics is busy with all the shootings and other bombings.”

“You know maybe it wasn’t about you and Por.”

“What do you mean?”

“Maybe it was the chick.”

“Por’s new girl? ‘Ice’?”

“Yeah. Sure. Why not? I’ve lived here a long time, longer than you have by a stretch. Most of the time someone gets killed or shit happens, it’s about a woman. Think about this. What would have happened if the bomb hadn’t gone off?”

“Por gave me a hard time for not calling you.”

“Yeah, I spoke to him earlier in the week.”

“Your house was bugged. I assumed they did it when they kidnapped you but you told me they took you outside on the road. Why then did they have to kill Lilly?”

“Yeah, fucking sad, man. Just animal behavior. I can’t believe she’s gone. Thanks for taking care of the funeral, Cheep. I heard it was a good send off.”

“No problem, Mike. It was my duty.”

Uncle Mike raised his glass. “To Lilly. May we always remember her fighting spirit and her good heart.”

We drained our glasses. There are exceptions to every rule in Thailand. Cheep gathered the glasses in and started the process of filling each again: blocks of cubed ice to the top of each glass. Each lump was selected and placed with short metal tongs. Then the whiskey, a hand-poured measure into each glass, stronger now that the night was growing to its full strength. Then the soda, fresh bottles required. The cap of one was used to lever open the cap of its twin. A loud pop and then each glass filled to the brim. A quick stir with the metal tongs for each glass before it was placed in front of its owner.

Uncle Mike put his hand on my knee.

“I called Por and we talked. I think it was on the Monday. I mentioned that I hadn’t seen you for a while. He said he hadn’t seen you for a while either. He told me you were getting serious about Pim. She’s a keeper by the way. And that you were spending most of your time with her. But he was cool about it and so am I. No big deal. Just missed you, that’s all. He did say he would talk to you to call me.”

“So they knew that Por was going to tell me to call you. I call. You don’t answer. I come to Phuket. If the bomb hadn’t gone off, same thing would have happened. Por would have sent me to Phuket.”

“With the hundred million. Sure, I know. And Por would have stayed here until he knew what was going on and then he’d make his move. That’s his style.”

“So whoever kidnapped you expected me to bring the money.”

“Right. And look at the first time they tried to grab it. How did they know you were on that road?”

“It’s the fastest route between Cheep’s resort and Yacht Haven.”

“Yeah, but how did they know you were there?”

“My guess is they used the Hatteras as bait and followed us back to Cheep's.”

“Actually, Chance, Uncle Mike owns the resort. I just manage it for him.” Cheep smiled and raised his glass in toast. He had the ‘happy look’ in his eyes, “da wan” – sweet eyes in Thai. Stoned.

“The reason they wanted you, is leverage. If they had you, they could use you to stop Joom or Por retaliating, which means they assume that you’ll find out who kidnapped me. Makes sense?”

“Makes sense, but allow me to revisit this when I’m not so stoned. I’ve got to head back up to the house. Great to have you back, Uncle Mike.” We shared a hug and I left the sala. I checked my shoes for scorpions and slipped them on. I heard another sharp ‘whoosh’ sound and chuckled. Uncle Mike and Cheep would be chatting till the wee hours.