Inspector Zhang And The Dead Thai Gangster (9 page)

Somsak’s assistant put me through straight away.

“Khun Bob, how are you this pleasant morning?” said Somsak.

Somsak always called me Khun Bob.
 
I could never work out whether he was being sarcastic or not, but he always said it with a smile. He always spoke in English, too.
 
My Thai was better than his English but he was close to perfect so it was no strain.

“I’m trying to find a missing American,” I said.
 
“He’s a young guy, came here as a tourist but it looks like he’s teaching English now. He hasn’t been in touch with his parents for a while and they’re starting to worry.”

“And you’re wondering if he’s been caught trying to smuggle a kilo of white powder out of the country?”

“It happens.”

It happens a lot. Despite the penalties – and Thailand still executes drugs smugglers – there are still hundreds, maybe thousands, of backpackers and tourists who try to cover the costs of their trip to the Land of Smiles by taking drugs out of the country.

Heroin is cheap in Thailand.

Really cheap.

A couple of hundred dollars a kilo. For heroin that would sell for a hundred times as much in New York or London.

“I will make some enquiries,” said Somsak. “You have checked the hospitals?”

“Just before I called you.”

“Why are you contacting the police and not his parents?”

“His parents spoke to the embassy and they said they’d talk to the police. I’m just covering all bases, that’s all.”

“He is a good boy, this Jon Junior?”

“He’s from a good family. “

“I hope he is okay.”

“Me, too,” I said. “How are things going with the Kube fire?”

“You think he might have been there?”

“It’s not impossible,” I said. “Unlikely, but not impossible.”

“We still have some unidentified bodies.”

“The identified ones, their relatives have been informed?”

“Mostly,” said Somsak. “But not all.”

“Two hundred and eighteen dead?”

“Two hundred and twenty-three,” said Somsak. “Five more died overnight.”

“Terrible business,” I said.

“I’ll be there tomorrow with the Public Prosecutor. About nine o’clock. You should come around.”

“I will,” I said. “Is someone going to be prosecuted?”

“Hopefully,” said Somsak. “Let’s talk tomorrow.”

He ended the call.
 
I didn’t hold out much hope that Jon Junior was in police custody. A farang being arrested was always big news.
 
A more likely possibility was that he’d been the victim of a crime, but if he’d been badly injured he’d have been in a hospital and if he wasn’t, then why hadn’t he contacted his parents?

I had tried to be optimistic while I was talking to the Clares, but I was starting to get a bad feeling about Jon Junior’s disappearance.

A very bad feeling.

###

Bangkok Bob and The Missing Mormon
is about 63,000 words, equivalent to about 250 pages, and is available on the Kindle.

Stephen Leather is one of the UK’s most successful thriller writers and is published in more than twenty languages. He was a journalist for more than ten years on newspapers such as
The Times, the Daily Mail
and the
South China Morning Post
in Hong Kong. Before that, he was employed as a biochemist for ICI, shovelled limestone in a quarry, worked as a baker, a petrol pump attendant, a barman, and worked for the Inland Revenue. He began writing full time in 1992. His bestsellers have been translated into more than ten languages. He has also written for television shows such as
London’s Burning
,
The Knock
and the BBC’s
Murder in Mind
series, and two of his books,
The Stretch
and
The Bombmaker
, were turned into movies. You can find out more from his website at
www.stephenleather.com