Black Tiger (49 page)

I was convinced this was what Sya would do, because in his circumstances it is just what I would have done myself.

Throughout the helicopter ride, I was sure we were bound for Hua Hin. But then we suddenly landed—far too early by my calculations. I could see the glimmer of a city’s lights and knew it had to be Bangkok. Archin was left to guard me and I lay very still, even though the floor of the helicopter was hard and uncomfortable and I had a great urge to change my position and seek relief. It was disconcerting, being guarded by Archin. He prowled round me, sniffing and pawing at my clothes like an animal. I knew it was only his fear of Sya’s reprisals that kept him from seizing me there and then. I looked a wreck, hardly an appetising morsel, but I don’t suppose Archin had much discrimination.

So I kept my eyes shut, my face without expression, and hoped Sya would return soon. I thought of my parents, whom I’d never known, never had a chance to know, because this animal had murdered them when I was born. Vichai told me that. Vichai knew every celebrated criminal in the country. He’d employed most of them at one time or another, but he said he drew the line at employing Archin, a psycho. By all accounts—that is, by Vichai’s account, for he was my only source of information—they were losers, my
paw
and
mee
. But when all’s said and done, they were my parents, and because of Archin, I’d never even had a chance to say hi. I resented that like hell. One more item on the bill.

As I lay there, I could sense Archin’s growing excitement. He spluttered; his drool trailed over my face, and I longed to wipe it off but didn’t dare raise my hand. Then Sya came back and barked his orders, and Archin set off again, lugging me over his shoulder like a sack. I let my limbs hang lifeless.

He brought me inside and threw me down on a big, soft double bed. He was still grunting and wheezing with excitement. Then he finally lost control, even though Sya was there, and threw himself on top of me, crushing all the breath out of my chest. The next moment, he was lifted off and fell heavily to the floor. I could breathe again. For a moment that was all I could think about. In my relief I sat up and opened my eyes.

Sya Dam was standing over Archin. He must have picked him up bodily and thrown him down. Sya had to be as strong as a tiger—Archin weighed as much as a jeep. My rib cage couldn’t forget that weight.

Sya turned his attention to me. ‘So,’ he leered, ‘the Sleeping Beauty awakes at last!’ He let his eyes roam over me insolently. I was still wearing that revolting tribal dress, embroidered black with silver pieces. I’d been sick on it, when I was lying in the grave. It was covered with earth still, and it stank, as did my legs and my hair. My face was streaked with dirt. I had almost been a princess, and I loathed Sya Dam more now than ever, even more than I hated Archin. I stood up and I faced him.

‘What are you going to do with me?’ I demanded.

‘You?’ he mocked. ‘What should I do with a freak like you?’

‘The king loves me!’ I yelled.

‘The king? A callow boy who has led such a secluded life he takes a mynah for a peacock? You were a new toy, a plaything.’

‘He wanted to make me his queen!’

‘And then what? Supposing you managed to keep the ignorant young cub dangling until he braved the outcry and made you queen. Queens are not mere ornaments—they are breeding machines. What would you have done when you couldn’t put it off any longer? Raided the Khlong Tooey orphanages?’ He stared at me contemptuously. ‘Oh, go and clean yourself up. The odour grows offensive. Even,’ he paused, and his eyes were bitter, ‘to an Akha!’

It was like a rebirth. I stood under the showerhead with the water on full and let it cascade down over me for ten minutes. Even when Sya and his henchman banged on the door, I ignored them, letting the filth drain away, luxuriating in the hot spray before I even got around to brainstorming about what to do next.

I already knew where I was. I did not even need to read the name
Rachanee Bangkok
on the big fluffy peach-coloured towels, tastefully embroidered in a darker shade. You have to hand it to the Jeks, they have good heads for business. Nobody was going to steal one of their towels if they could help it!

They say smell is the most vivid sensual trigger of memory. Perhaps it’s true. There’s a special smell, compounded of gun grease, metal, whisky, and betel that brings Vichai back to life. In this bathroom, the free toiletries conjured up the image of the person I surmised had been responsible for their selection: Chee Laan Lee, heiress to the Lee millions, and my good buddy. She too had a good head on her shoulders, and she was ‘cool-hearted’, which we Thais consider an admirable quality. If I could get a message to Chee Laan, there might be a chance of escape. I had made up my mind that the only way forward was to get to the king before Sya did, before that venomous toad poisoned Vajah’s mind against me. I needed to take control. If I could see Vajah alone, I could get him to listen to me, and discredit Sya. Then, although all might not be as rosy as once upon a time, my prospects would certainly improve a thousandfold. I might salvage something from the wreckage after all.

When I emerged, Sya had gone. The big brute Archin squatted on his hunkers, staring fixedly at the bathroom door like a dog waiting for his dinner. I wore only a couple of big peach towels, one wrapped like a sarong, the other wound about my head in a turban. Archin’s bloodshot eyes were popping out of his head.

I pointed a finger down my throat. ‘Eat rice? Drink nice beer?’ I spoke in a tone of bracing joviality, as you do to dogs and children. The monster’s eyes gleamed. ‘Ring for rice, ring for beer,’ I proposed, briskly stepping over to the telephone. Fortunately, the hotel’s Hospitality and Public Relations Department’s number was listed on a crested pad by the telephone, along with every other service, from shoeshine to car hire. I prayed Chee Laan would be at her desk. I had no idea what the time was. When I heard her voice on the line I felt like shouting for joy, but I struggled to keep my tone neutral. Archin was watching me warily. I knew if I made one false move he would launch an attack. Sya would not risk leaving me alone with Archin for long—he might return at any moment.

Her alert, guarded tone told me Chee Laan was alarmed and primed for action. I just hoped she had immediate access to some drug that would render Archin unfit for combat within the space of few minutes—these Jeks have cupboards full of nostrums for every conceivable ailment, and besides, Chee Laan’s brother Pao was a junkie. The question was whether she could find something in time. But she did, the little jewel.

I couldn’t believe my luck when Archin tilted his head back and tipped the beer down his throat like a man hosing gas into a truck. Whatever was in that beer, it was the real stuff. Within seconds he let out a snore, shunted himself onto the bed, and sprawled there inert as a log. I didn’t hang around to kiss him goodnight.

When Chee Laan and I finally made it to the staff office, I collapsed on the carpet and just lay there, laughing. Maybe I even snivelled a bit. Nobody had glanced at me more than once in the lobby. All these luxury hotels have health clubs and spas—they probably thought I was some dimwit who got lost on the way to the sauna. Most of them were
farangs
, anyway, and
farangs
don’t notice much.

I looked at Chee Laan. I’d seen her in this mode before: damaged, bruised, yet quietly resolute. But there was a new wariness about her, and the resilience of self-knowledge that comes from surviving a tough time. I remembered her pale set jaw as she trudged through the French mud with her boots oozing blood—Chee Laan, my fellow survivor.

‘I need to get to Hua Hin,’ I said. ‘I have to get to the king before Sya does—get in first, force him to listen to me.’

‘You think Sya plans to confront the king?’ She nodded pensively, biting her lip. ‘Yes. That would be the perfect alibi. He would be at the other end of the country from Mae Sod.’ I had no idea what she was talking about, and had no time to ask. She tugged open the door of a built-in cupboard, revealing orderly rows of garments. ‘I keep changes of clothes here for when there’s no time to go home. I have not yet moved them to my new office. Luckily. Help yourself while I think.’

I found a blue top and a pair of designer jeans that fit and pulled them on. Her taste was more conventional than mine, but I looked all right. I could fix my hair and make-up in the car. I needed all my weapons of war in good working order if I was to carry off my appeal to His Youthful Majesty with success. Then I saw to my delighted surprise that she actually had a flame-coloured evening dress just one I used to own. That colour was always lucky for me. So I dragged it off its hanger and tucked it over my arm, too, planning to change in the car. It seemed a most propitious omen.

‘I called Raven,’ Chee Laan said. ‘He’ll be here any moment. There’s more going on than you know, Salikaa. Sya’s engineering what could be a major international crisis.’

‘Oh,’ I said, and I tried not to sound as dismissive as I felt. ‘If you’ve called Raven, let him take care of business. I really need to get to Hua Hin now, Chee Laan. It’s going to take us three hours as it is.’ I didn’t know what Raven’s interest in Sya Dam was, and I didn’t much care. These Westerners were so feeble and indecisive.

She was reluctant, I could tell. She probably wanted to hang around and wait for her
farang
cavalier. I shook her arm and played my ace.

‘Please, Chee Laan, dear, you have to help me! There’s only you and me left now! Pim’s dead! And Vichai, and Tamsin—and Toom. There’s only the two of us!’

It was the mention of Pim that did it. I knew, though she’d never said anything, that Chee Laan felt guilty. As if she, or anyone, could have prevented it!

Other people’s tender consciences can always be turned to one’s own advantage. It’s kind, really, because it allows the guilt-bearer the opportunity for atonement. I knew she wouldn’t resist.

‘Let’s go,’ she said, sighing. ‘My car’s in the underground carpark.’ We strolled through the crowded lobby toward the lift in a mighty affectation of casualness. Chee Laan smiled, nodded to people, exchanged a brief word here and there—the consummate hotelier—until I was seething with impatience. There was a big group of foreigners in bright shirts, waiting expectantly for their tour bus. ‘It’s gone half-past,’ I heard a woman whine. ‘We’re gonna miss the elephants.’

I wanted to elbow the people aside and make a run for it through the automatic doors. I should have followed my instinct, because before we could get there Sya stepped out of nowhere and blocked our path. We stood staring at each other. He was in full uniform, carrying a black ox-leather document folder. The zip was not quite closed. Between the grey teeth of the zip, black metal glinted in the light of the lobby’s chandeliers. He pressed the document folder against Chee Laan’s ribs, staring me down with his languid malign gaze.

‘Don’t bother looking down, Miss Lee,’ he said. ‘Your assumption is correct. The discomfort you are experiencing is because I am holding an automatic to your heart. Now, we three will retrace our steps. Ask Miss Thailand here to lead the way.’

‘Ask her yourself,’ Chee Laan said through gritted teeth, still smiling. Without turning her head, she said to me, ‘Run for it, Salikaa. He won’t dare shoot me.’

Thankfully, the gods smile on the innocent.

A foreign tourist spotted Sya’s uniform and thrust herself at him, rudely knocking his arm away from Chee Laan. ‘Are you the doorman? Doorman, would you please go out and check if the Sunburst Tours Coach has arrived?’

Sya bowed. ‘Gladly, madame. In one moment I shall be at your service. But first, I must assist this young lady to her suite. She is overcome by the heat.’ He swept Chee Laan into his arms and forced a path through the crowd to the elevator. I should have run off then. But I couldn’t leave Chee Laan. I needed her to get me to Hua Hin. Plus, we’d have a better chance if we stayed together.

There was something else I’d seen in that crowded lobby, something I’d no intention of telling either of my companions. Behind one of the carved ornamental pillars, I’d clearly glimpsed the foreigner Raven, lunging forward just as the foreign tourist knocked against Sya.

Outside the penthouse door Sya subdued Chee Laan with one powerful arm while he fumbled for a key. She kicked and struggled, but his grip was too strong. ‘You need a master key!’ she panted triumphantly. ‘You can’t open it without a master key.’

‘What makes you think I haven’t got one?’ he asked, fitting a key in the lock and opening the door. He kicked it shut and dumped Chee Laan on the floor. In the bedroom beyond, Archin lay snoring, dead to the world. Sya went over and prodded him with his boot. Archin did not stir. Sya set his uniform cap on a side table and pulled up a chair, straddling it. He withdrew the pistol from his document folder and pointed it in our direction. It had an ugly-looking silencer clipped onto the barrel.

‘Undress each other!’ he commanded. Then he sat back and watched impassively.

I’ll say this for Chee Laan: she managed to betray no emotion. She tugged her own clothes, the ones I had borrowed, off of me without even changing her expression. Then I did the same for her, and we stood there facing each other in our underwear, heads bowed, covering up whatever we could with hands that seemed suddenly too small. It was not my proudest moment. Sya, however, smiled, evidently enjoying himself.

The knock at the door startled all three of us.

Sya moved fast. He gestured toward the bathroom with the gun. Naked and barefoot, we stumbled over the thick carpet. He closed the bathroom door behind us. I was still wondering what came next when he whipped out a set of handcuffs and snapped one around Chee Laan’s left wrist. He twisted the chain round the steel curtain pole, and secured the other cuff to my right wrist. ‘One sound, you all die!’ he hissed.

He shut the door on us. The air was heavy with the scent of apple blossom and still hot and humid after my prolonged shower.

We heard voices in the bedroom. ‘Raven!’ Chee Laan whispered. She strained at the cuff like a dog hearing its master’s voice.