“Everyone goes there,” she said.
Harry discovered that “everyone” was white, wealthy and well dressed.
“Welcome to the best hotel in the world, Harry,” Tonje chirruped from the depths of an armchair in the lobby.
She was wearing a blue cotton skirt and holding a straw hat in her lap, which, along with all the other people in the lobby, lent the place a touch of old, carefree colonialism.
They withdrew to the Authors’ Lounge, were served tea and nodded politely to the other white people, who seemed to think that being white was reason enough to greet one another. Harry clinked the porcelain nervously.
“Not your style, Harry?” Tonje sipped her tea while mischievously peering over the top.
“I’m trying to work out why I’m smiling at Americans in golf gear.”
She laughed. “Oh, a slightly cultivated environment can’t hurt.”
“When were checked trousers cultivated?”
“Hm, cultivated people then.”
Harry could hear that the rural town of Frederikstad hadn’t done much for the woman sitting opposite him. He thought of Sanphet, the old chauffeur who had changed into an ironed shirt and long trousers and had sat out in the boiling hot sun so that his visitors wouldn’t be embarrassed by how simply he lived. That was more cultivated than anything he had seen so far among the foreigners in Bangkok.
Harry asked what Tonje knew about pedophiles in Thailand.
“Only that Thailand attracts a lot of them. As I’m sure you remember, a Norwegian was caught literally with his trousers down in Pattaya last year. Norwegian newspapers published a charmingly arranged photo of three small boys pointing him out for the police. The man’s face was blanked out, not the boys’ faces though. In the English-language version of Pattaya Mail it was the other way around. And they used the man’s full name in the leader, after which they consistently called him “the Norwegian.” Tonje shook her head. “People here who hadn’t heard of Norway before suddenly knew that Oslo was the capital because it said that Norwegian authorities wanted him flown home to Oslo. Everyone wondered why on earth they wanted him back. Here, he would have been locked up for a long time.”
“If the sentences are so strict here, why are there so many pedophiles?”
“The authorities want Thailand to get rid of its reputation as an Eldorado for pedophiles. It damages legitimate tourism. But inside the police force it isn’t a high priority because arresting foreigners only brings trouble.”
“So the result is that the authorities work against one another?”
Tonje burst into a beaming smile, which Harry realized was not intended for him but one of the “everyone” passing behind him.
“Yes and no,” she said. “Some cooperate. The authorities in Sweden and Denmark have, for example, come to an agreement with the Thai government whereby they can station police officers here to investigate specific cases where Swedes or Danes are involved. They have also passed laws that Swedish and Danish nationals can be convicted in their respective countries for abuse of minors in Thailand.”
“And Norway?”
Tonje shrugged. “We don’t have an agreement yet. I know that Norwegian police have pushed for an equivalent arrangement, but I don’t think they quite appreciate the extent of what is going on in Pattaya and Bangkok. Have you seen the children walking around selling chewing gum?”
Harry nodded. The area around the go-go bars in Patpong was teeming with them.
“That’s the code. The chewing gum means they’re for sale.”
Harry realized with a shudder that he’d bought a packet of Wrigley’s off a barefoot, black-eyed boy, who had looked terrified, but Harry had put that down to the crowds and the noise.
“Ivar Løken, the man you pointed out at the funeral reception. Ex-military, you said? Can you tell me any more about his interest in photography? Have you seen any of his pictures?”
“No, but I’ve seen his equipment and that’s impressive enough.”
Her cheeks reddened a touch as it occurred to her why Harry had involuntarily smiled.
“And these trips to Indochina, do you know for certain that’s where he went?”
“For certain? Why would he lie?”
“Any idea why he might?”
She folded her arms as if she thought it had turned chilly. “Not really. How was the tea?”
“I have to ask you a favor, Tonje.”
“And that is?”
“An invitation to dinner.”
She looked up in surprise.
“If you have time,” he added.
She gave a mischievous smile again. “My appointments book is at your disposal, Harry. Any time at all.”