Cockroaches(41)

“I lied. Miss Ao was in the ambassador’s car.”

“Uh-huh?” Harry said, caught off guard.

“Several times.”

“So you knew about her and the ambassador?”

“Not the ambassador.”

It took a couple of seconds before Harry clicked, and he stared at the old man in disbelief.

“You, Sanphet? You and Miss Ao?”

“It’s a long story, and I’m afraid you won’t understand everything.” He gave Harry a searching gaze. “Miss Ao was with me the night the ambassador died. She would never say because it could cost both of us our jobs. Fraternizing between employees is not allowed.”

Harry ran a hand across his head.

“I know what you’re thinking, Officer. That I’m an old man and she’s a young girl.”

“Well, I’m afraid I don’t understand completely, Sanphet.”

Sanphet half smiled. “Her mother and I were lovers a long, long time ago, long before she had Ao. In Thailand there is something called phîi. You might translate it as ‘seniority,’ an older person being higher in the hierarchy than a younger person. But it means more than that. It also means the older person has responsibility for them. Miss Ao got the job at the embassy at my recommendation, and she is an affectionate, grateful woman.”

“Grateful?” Harry queried without restraint. “How old was she …?” He paused. “What does her mother say?”

Sanphet smiled sadly. “She’s the same age as me and understands. I’m only borrowing Ao for a little time. Until she finds the man she will start a family with. It’s not so unusual …”

Harry released his breath with a groan. “So you’re her alibi? And you know it wasn’t Miss Ao the ambassador took to the hotel he frequented?”

“If the ambassador went to a hotel, it was not with Ao.”

Harry raised a finger. “You’ve already lied once and I could have arrested you for obstructing the police while investigating a murder. If there is anything else you have to tell me, say it now.”

The old, brown eyes looked at Harry without blinking. “I liked herr Molnes. He was a friend. I hope the person who killed him will be punished. And no one else.”

Harry was about to say something, but bit his tongue.





18


Monday, January 13


The sun had turned deep burgundy with orange stripes. It hung above Bangkok’s gray skyline, like a new planet that had appeared in the firmament unannounced.

“This is Ratchadamnoen Stadium,” Liz said as the Toyota containing Harry, Nho and Sunthorn pulled up by the gray-brick building. A couple of miserable-looking ticket touts brightened up, but Liz waved them away. “It might not seem very impressive, but this is Bangkok’s version of the Theater of Dreams. Here everyone has a chance to be God if they have quick enough feet and hands. Hi, Ricki!”

One of the guards came over to the car, and Liz switched on the charm to a degree Harry would not have credited her with. After a brisk torrent of words and laughter, she turned smiling to the others.

“Let’s get Woo arrested as fast as we can. I’ve just wangled ringside seats for me and the tourist. Ivan’s boxing seventh this evening. Could be fun.”

The restaurant was of the basic variety—plastic, flies and one solitary fan to blow the food smells from the kitchen into the rest of the room. Portraits of the Thai royal family hung above the counter.

Only a few tables were occupied, and there was no Woo to be seen. Nho and Sunthorn sat at a table by the door while Liz and Harry sat at the back. Harry ordered a spring roll and, for safety’s sake, a disinfecting Coke.

“Rick was my trainer when I did Thai boxing,” Liz explained. “I weighed almost twice as much as the boys I sparred with, was three heads taller and got beaten up every time. They imbibe boxing with their mother’s milk here. But they didn’t like being hit by a woman, they said. Not that I noticed anything.”

“What is it with the King stuff?” Harry asked, pointing. “I see his picture everywhere.”

“Well, a nation needs heroes. The royal family wasn’t particularly popular until the Second World War when the King managed to ally himself first with the Japanese and then, when they were on the defensive, with the Americans. He saved the nation from a bloodbath.”

Harry raised his Coke to the portrait. “He sounds like a cool dude.”

“You have to understand: there are two things you don’t joke about in Thailand—”

“The royal family and Buddha. Yes, thanks, I’ve been told.”

The door opened.

“Well, hello,” Liz whispered and raised her nonexistent eyebrows. “Normally they seem smaller in real life.”