Hungry Ghosts (28 page)

“Who is this policeman?” asks Mongkut.

“His name is Charoenkul. None of you may have heard of him, but Nathon, your associate Rattanakorn knows him.”
He also knows Charoenkul’s wife very well
, I don’t add.

Chumbol looks doubtful.
“I shouldn’t have thought that squealing on a colleague would help this Charoenkul very much. Won’t his seniors in the Royal Thai Police regard that as an act of betrayal from a man who is not to be trusted?”

“Charoenkul is a politician,” I reply. “If he fell into a sewer he would come up smelling of
frangipani. He will know how to handle it in such a way that he is seen as doing the police a favour – removing a bad apple that might rot the barrel for everyone else. He will make sure somebody else wields the dagger that goes into the Toad’s back. But he’ll get any credit that’s going. He’s a smooth operator. I’ve seen him in action.”

Cheepa has been silent for the last few minutes, but now he addresses Chumbol. “Something of this sort may be worth try
ing provided it couldn’t be traced back to any of us. We have nothing to lose except perhaps a little cash. The risk seems acceptable to me. Furthermore, we can run it as a joint operation between the families.”

“Like in the old days?” proffers Chumbol with a smile.

Cheepa nods. “Like in the old days, my friend.”

“Even assuming we wanted to do this,” says Mongkut, “
we would still have to work out how to plant cash on the Toad in an incriminating way. That’s not going to be easy.”

“Actually,” Nathon responds, “
it might be easier than you think, Mongkut.

“As it happens the Lamphongchat family
is part-owner in a business – a legitimate business, I might add for David’s benefit – whose services include office cleaning.” Nathon laughs. “That’s right. We actually clean the Toad’s office.”

This announcement causes much merriment around the table. Even Mongkut’s rancid expression cracks
for a moment.

My father decides to rejoin the party, having weighed up the mood of the meeting. “So let’s take a scenario that the families were to put, say, twenty thousand US Dollars cash in a briefcase and have one of the cleaning team secret it in
the Toad’s office. Then Charoenkul tips off one of the Deputy Commissioners, or at least he makes sure the word gets to them about it. He tells him that an unnamed source has documentary proof of the Toad’s corrupt dealings; that there is cash in his office right
now
, and that if the police don’t act to remove him, evidence will be laid before the Office of the National Anti-Corruption Commission. He can hint this evidence would implicate other senior police officers too, for good measure. Would that be an acceptable plan? Each family puts in ten thousand and a member from each family joins the cleaning gang for the night? I assume it’s a night shift, Nathon?”

Nathon
indicates a
yes
. “We could do it tomorrow night if David can mobilize Charoenkul.”

Nang says, “If we are doing this, I’d like to volunteer for the cleaning team from the Lamphongchat side.”

“
You?
” exclaims my father.

“Don’t say ‘you’ like that, Edward,” replies Nang crossly. “Whoever is on the team needs to blend in. Another old woman carrying a brush will not arouse any suspicion. Anyway, I’ve grown tired of being ancient and boring. I’d like some adventure again before I die.”

Chumbol slaps my father on the shoulder. “I see our little ‘Pakpao’ has not lost all her fire yet.”

“Apparently not,” says Edward Braddock.

“I know who we can use for the Sangukhon representative,” Khemkhaeng states.

“Then it’s agreed,” announces Chumbol, taking a cue from Nathon. “I recommend Cheepa and Khemkhaeng sort out the details as it’s an operational matter from here.
We still need Charoenkul’s buy-in to be confirmed.”

“I’ll go and call him now,” I say. “However, I’ll need more
information about the Toad before I do. Like his real name, for instance?”

“It’s
Jarun Katchai,” Nathon tells me.

“
Katchai?
”

“Yes.”

“Is he the same Katchai who has a brother in the police in Surat Thani?”

“Yes.”

Our mark is the Old Monk’s corrupt son.

Oh, fuck.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Mongkut is watching me closely. “Is that going to be a problem?”

“No,” I reply, hoping I sound dismissive. “It’s not.”

As usual, Braddock the Unprepared has gone blundering in and is about to
instigate yet more bad karma. I’ll be a key mover in the ruination of the son of one of the few people who have shown me genuine friendship in the last few years. And this for the sake of – well, saving my own skin, if the truth be told.

“Nathon, I wonder if I might have a private word with you before I make this call?”

If Lamphongchat is surprised he doesn’t show it. My father raises his eyebrows though.

“But of course. Let’s step out on the balcony, shall we?”

Nathon slides the glass door closed behind him and we take up positions leaning against the balustrade. Below us the river twinkles in the bright moonlight,
creating the illusion of tiny silver fish breaking the surface. The city presents its night-time masquerade. It is no less busy, but its various activities are more furtive now. I light a cigarette.

“And so?” says Nathon.

“I need an incentive to make this call to Charoenkul. I have no interest and no stake in this chess-game being played between you two sets of gangsters. We might be distant relatives by marriage, but that’s as far as it goes. Personally I can understand why Jingjai wanted nothing to do with you. So you need to make it worth my while to use my influence.”

His voice is flat and emotionless as he says, “You have an interesting negotiating strategy, David. You wait until both families are committed to a course of action before revealing you have conditions. That’s rather risky, don’t you think?”

I exhale a cloud of smoke and shrug. “It is what it is.”

“What do you want?”

“Only one thing. I want you to bring your man Chaldrakun to Bangkok and hand him over to the police. As long as he is at liberty, my life is in danger. If he’s the sort of psycho I have reason to believe he is, he’s not going to stop until I’m dead. So I want him taken out of the game.”

“I see,” he replies evenly. “But as you are aware, his falling into the hands of the police cou
ld give us difficulties. He knows a lot about our operations.”

“I realize that. However, there is another reason why you should co-operate.”

“I’m listening.”

“If Charoenkul is the one who performs the arrest it will be another big incentive for him to play ball. Creating an opening for promotion to Bangkok
and
being the one who brings in the killer of a policeman will be irresistible to him. We will definitely have a deal with him then.”

“You are suggesting that Charoenkul comes up to Bangkok?”

“Yes. Tomorrow. Let’s do every damn thing tomorrow evening. Plant the suitcase, and let Charoenkul make the arrest and give the signal once the cash is in place in Katchai’s office. Everything done and dusted. Game over. Then you hoodlums can get back to making money out of other people’s misery.”

“And you can go back to Samui with an easy mind to photograph bar girls?”

“Exactly. When you speak to Chaldrakun at noon tomorrow you will fix a rendezvous and Charoenkul will be waiting with the cuffs when he arrives.”

“As easy as that?”

“As easy as that.”

“And how about loyalty? What about the fact that
Bumibol Chaldrakun has served our family’s business for many years. You seem to think that counts for nothing with me.”

“Mad dogs should be put down and that’s all there is to it,” I say coldly. “Do we have a deal?”

He studies me for a long time.

“We have a deal,” he says.

Alone on the balcony I call Charoenkul. It is a long call and it takes a while to allay his suspicions
– he does, after all think everybody is as bent as he is – but ultimately his self-interest prevails. It amuses him that it is Jarun Katchai, the brother of his Surat Thani rival, who will be taking the fall, and I can almost hear him rubbing his hands in delight at the thought of the hero-worship that will follow his apprehending Tathip’s killer. Of course, I leave out a host of details about
how
the murderer will be lured to Bangkok and
who
exactly will be doing the luring. I cite ‘other interests’. Once he has satisfied himself that
he
is not the target of any trap, and worked through in his rodent mind the way he will use his network of contacts to bring about Katchai’s disgrace, he lightens up. Neither of us is entirely transparent to the other but at least he can see how the arrangements are going to be mutually beneficial. He gets promoted: I don’t get murdered.

“I will even call off the operation of following
your housekeeper as a gesture of goodwill,” he says righteously. “Now that I know you are in Bangkok and we are meeting tomorrow, that is an unnecessary waste of police resources.”

“Quite,” I reply
, suppressing the urge to use expletives.

“It will be a pleasure to work with you again, Braddock. I do so enjoy our little interactions.”

“I’ll call you at lunchtime tomorrow to go through the details. Meanwhile, start warming up your network on the Katchai deal, and book a flight to Bangkok for tomorrow afternoon.”

I go back
in the Board Room.

“It’s all fixed,” I announce to the expectant faces.

“Good,” says Chumbol. “Now if you young people will excuse us, Edward, Nang, Cheepa and I are going to dinner. We want to reminisce about the old days before all of our memories fail.”

29

Things Unsaid

It had been an emotional evening for Nang Braddock.

While the formal meeting at the
Carlsson Sharifah had been tense and occasionally unpleasant, the dinner which followed had been a more profound and bittersweet affair. It had stirred an ache inside her.

She had looked around the dining table at the smiling, joking faces of her husband, her brother and Chumbol Sangukhon and a deep sadness had descended. While she was very careful to show a jocund exterior, she felt hollowed-out
and tired.

Age was catching up with all of them. Occasionally she
spied the fleeting ghost of childhood exuberance in the eyes, but she could not deny that mortality was writ large on the brow. She surreptitiously examined the liver-spots and prominent blood vessels of her hands; she experienced the fragility of her body. The words of
The Dhammapada
came to her.

Yellow leaves hang on your tree of life. The messengers of death are waiting. You will travel far away. Have you made provision for the journey?

Once back in their room at Nathon’s house she said, “Edward, we need to talk.”

“That sounds ominous,” replied her husband removing his shoes.

“About David.”

“Ah,
that
again.”

“There are things he should know, Edward, things he has the right to know.”

“Well, he knows about the Lamphongchat family connection now.”

Nang sighed with impatience. “He has been given the sketchiest account of it. You should spend some time with him.”

“You know very well, my dear, David and I find it hard to talk to each other. Besides, you saw his reaction when the topic of my smuggling past came up. He did everything but sneer. I have no moral authority over him now.”

“That is because you both treat every discussion like a business meeting. Anyway, he was not sneering at you. But put yourself in his place. He has just
discovered that the father he has always seen as a bastion of rectitude has a criminal past. How would you react, Edward?”

“Nang, we’ve been over this time and time again. I have kept all this from him because no good could come from his knowing. And indeed no good
has
come from his knowing. Besides,” he added, “he is no different from me in this respect. Look how quick he was to say he didn’t want Katie to find out about the family past.”

“That’s different.”

“Why is it?”

“Because what went on in Malaya and Thailand all those years ago is not part of who Katie is. But it
is
part of who and what David is.”

Edward made no reply.

“Listen, my love,” Nang continued, “we are not getting any younger. That stroke you had last year was more than a warning. It was a message to put your affairs in order.”

“I don’t want you telling David about that either,” Edward said quickly.

“Why not? Because it shows you are not immortal? You exasperate me, Edward Braddock. I love you with all my heart, but you are a stubborn man. You cannot stand showing any sign of weakness; and that of itself is a weakness.”

Her husband ran a hand over his face. “I know.”

“For all of our life together I have respected your wish that we stay silent on that time in your life. But perhaps now is the time –”

“You can tell him everything after I’m dead.”

“That is not my responsibility,” Nang replied harshly. “It is yours.”

“If I tell him everything, now – after all this time – he will hate me. You know he will. Our relationship is bad enough as it is.”

“Tell him.”

They looked at each other for a long time.

“I’ll think about it,” said Edward Braddock.