Hungry Ghosts (32 page)

“Excellent,”
said Papa Doc.

*       *       *       *       *

It was around eight-thirty when Bumibol heard the sound of a key turning in the lock. He squeezed himself right under the reception desk. It was a tight fit for a man of his bulk but so positioned he reasoned there was a good chance that even if Virote or A-Wut walked behind the desk they would not see him.

“Do we switch the lights on?” asked A-Wut.

“Yes. The boss says he wants the place to look as welcoming as possible,” replied Virote. “Anyway, we won’t be able to see what the fuck we’re doing otherwise.”

Bumibol heard one set of footsteps come close as the person reached the bank of switches and turned on the strip
lighting. The transformation from blackness to unforgiving whiteness made the big Thai squint and immediately he could see he was not as well concealed as he had thought he would be. To his relief, however, the two men had moved over to the low table at the other side of the foyer. The sound of chairs scraping on the cement floor told him they had sat down.

“What
are we supposed to do for the next half hour?”

The questioner was A-Wut and Bumibol thought his voice sounded jittery.

“I’ve brought a pack of cards.”

“You’re fucking joking, aren’t you?”

“Why? Don’t you want to lose any money to me tonight?”

“I can’t concentrate on
cards
while we’re waiting for Chaldrakun.”

“Why not?”

“You might not be nervous but I am.”

“I don’t see why. There are two of us with guns against one unarmed
monkey.” Virote sniffed. “In any case, Mr. Lamphongchat says if he cuts up rough we can shoot him in the legs. He doesn’t want him killed though. That might complicate matters with the policeman. It’s difficult to arrest a corpse.”

Bumibol had heard enough. He eased himself silently from under the desk. As he stood up he kept his right arm by his side so that the Glock
would be out of sight from the two men.

“Monkey, huh?” he said.

The men looked at him in shock. Virote was the first to react. As his hand moved towards his shoulder holster Bumibol raised the pistol and fired three times into his chest, the impact throwing the younger man against the wall.

A-Wut dived off his chair and managed to pull out his gun before a bullet from the Glock slammed into his
hip and the weapon slipped from his grasp and skidded away across the floor.

Bumibol stepped out from behind the desk and walked slowly to his former colleague. A-Wut gasped in pain and held
a hand to his wounded side. The big Thai stood over him and waited for him to speak.

“Bumibol, you –”

Dazed and frightened by the speed of the attack, the man on the floor struggled to find the words that might save him. “I didn’t know you had a gun,” was all he could manage before Bumibol emptied a round into his head.

The men had re
sponded much quicker than the fugitive had expected. Had they been slower, one of them would still be alive and Bumibol would have had a hostage to facilitate his escape. If he had been thinking clearly he would have let A-Wut live. But, as before, a red mist had descended over his mind. Those few seconds of uncontrolled anger would likely prove his undoing.

He reached into A-Wut’s jacket and removed his blood-covered cell phone.

*       *       *       *       *

In the warehouse across the road the men heard f
ive gunshots come from inside the factory. They rushed to the window but there was nothing to see except the bland exterior of the building opposite. After a few seconds the lights in the reception were switched off and the firework factory was once more in darkness.

“Something has gone wrong,” said Nathon grim
ly. He glanced at his watch. Virote and A-Wut had only entered the building five minutes ago and Chaldrakun was not due to arrive yet. Then his cell phone rang. It was A-Wut’s number.

“A-Wut?” he whispered anxiously.

“No, Mr. Lamphongchat, this is Bumibol.”

“What’s going on, Bumibol? What were those shots?”

Nathon’s mouth felt dry.

“I think you know. You betrayed me.” The words were spat out with bitterness.

“Let me talk to A-Wut.”

“A-Wut is dead. And Virote is wounded. If you want to see him alive again, we need to
discuss terms.”

“Let me talk to Virote
.”

“He can’t come to the phone right now.”

“Let me talk to him.”

The line was cut.

“Well?” asked Braddock.

“Both my men are dead,” replied Nathon.

“How did he get in?” asked Charoenkul.

“I don’t know. Perhaps he broke one of the side windows, or maybe he came by boat. He can’t have got into the
day room from the fire escape as I had my people change the locks earlier today.”

He addressed one of his men.

“Pop, make your way round to the north side of the building and cover the fire escape and the side door. If Bumibol comes out, shoot his legs if you can. Meanwhile, see if you can see whether there is a boat moored on the river.”

Pop nodded and disappeared down the stairs.

Nathon then dispatched his other two men to keep people and vehicles out of the street; one man to the north, one to the south.

A few anxious minutes later, Pop called.

“I can’t see any boat tied up here, but that doesn’t mean there isn’t one. It’s black as hell on the river and there are no lights on our side.”

“Watch the exits. You know what to do if he makes a run for it.”

“Yes, Mr. Lamphongchat.”

“So what do we do now?” asked Charoenkul in a grim tone. “There aren’t enough of us here to
storm a building that size. He could be anywhere inside waiting to pick us off.”

“I’ll tell you exactly what we do,” said Braddock
, “but, first I need to ask you a question, Nathon.”

“I’m listening.”

“Is your building and stock insured?”

“Yes
. Why?”

“
Then we burn him out.”

“
What?
” exclaimed Nathon. “You’re suggesting I torch my own factory?”

“That is precisely what I’m suggesting,” responded the Englishman. “Chief Charoenkul here can warrant that your factory was set alight by the wanted criminal Chaldrakun after he shot and killed two security staff. I’m sure the insurance company will pay up on that basis.”

“Just wait a minute, Braddock,” said Papa Doc calmly. “I am assuming this sudden rush of madness is to do with your housekeeper and what happened to her at this man’s hands. However, there is a simpler way. I make a call to my police colleagues and –”

“No,” said Braddock decisively, “
and Nathon, before you tell me your one hundred reasons why it’s a bad idea, let me explain something to the two of you. Something confidential.” He indicated that he wanted Glass Face and Buajan to leave the room.

Charoenkul and Nathon looked at each other and nodded and their subordinates were sent downstairs.

“This had better be good, David,” stated Nathon Lamphongchat.

“Oh, it’s good all right. Listen, Nathon. In spite of everything we’ve discussed before, you and I both know that it would be far better if Chaldrakun doesn’t fall into the hands of the police. You seem to have some residual romantic notion of honour so far as this man is concerned, but now that he’s put bullets into two of your men this ‘shoot-him-in-the-legs’ idea is outdated. You never even anticipated his being armed. Well he is. And a psychopath with a gun should always be taken down with extreme prejudice.”

“So why would
I
want him dead, Braddock?” inquired Charoenkul. “It will make it awkward for me to explain to my colleagues.”

“It will be more awkward for you
, Chief, if he ever gets to talk to your colleagues.”

“And why is that?” asked Papa Doc sharply.

Braddock paused before continuing.

“You
questioned me before about my connection to Chaldrakun. Well, let me tell you now. His brother – your constable and one of your ‘trusted’ men – was the perpetrator of the ‘burning murders’. It was he, not that pathetic tramp you fitted up, who was responsible for the deaths of those three Europeans. He murdered them because of an obsession with a girl. Because I knew you wouldn’t move against him, I organized Preechap Chaldrakun’s death with help from Tathip. That’s why Tathip is dead and that’s why the lunatic over the road wants me dead: to avenge his brother.”

“Can you prove any of this?”

“Of course not. The only man who could confirm my story is in the ground, murdered by you-know-who. But none of that really matters. Do you really want to take the chance of Bumibol Chaldrakun blabbing to the Bangkok Police that you never really solved the ‘burning murders’ and that it was actually one of your men that was the killer? How would that look for your promotion prospects, do you suppose?”

Nathon Lamphongchat looked
coldly at the Englishman.

“Is this what you planned all along, David? To make
all of us accomplices to Bumibol’s death?”

“You credit me with too much foresight,” replied Braddock. “Hell, I make this stuff up as I go along. But think of it another way. With all the gunpowder
over the road, when that factory blows it will be one hell of a firework display. And Chaldrakun will make a fine Guy Fawkes,” he added, although the reference was lost on the other men.

“Can we smoke him out before the police and fire services arrive?” asked Charoenkul.

“The building is partly wood, and what is more, as Braddock points out, there is a lot of flammable and explosive material inside,” said Lamphongchat. “When it starts to burn, it will go up quickly. We may have time provided no-one heard the gunshots and has already made a call.”

“Thank Buddha for your national indifference towards fire regulations,” commented Braddock. “Now, where can we get hold of some
gasoline?”

Twenty minutes later, Braddock and a reluctant Glass Face were edging along the south wall of the factory. Braddock carried a water container found in the warehouse. The container was three-quarters full of petrol which had been siphoned from one of the Lamphongchat cars. Glass Face’s gun was already drawn though the hand that held it trembled.

Braddock chanced a look through one of the windows. The factory still lay in complete darkness and all the Englishmen could see was his own ghostly image reflected back. If he had understood Nathon’s instructions correctly, this was the window
of the accounts office and on the floor above it was a cornucopia of all things combustible.

Braddock checked his watch. To the north of the building Pop crouched behind a shed five metres from the factory. For company he had four Molotov cocktails. Fires would be started simultaneously at both ends of the building, thus presenting Chaldrakun with three choices. If he took the emergency exit Pop would take him
out. A leap into the river would result in Pop shooting into the water from the north side of the factory and Glass Face firing from the south. If he tried to make his way out of the main door, Buajan had volunteered to put an end to him from his position at a first floor window in the opposite building. A possible fourth option, involving Bumibol staying inside the factory to die from smoke inhalation or from being burned alive, was considered to be unattractive to the big Thai.

Braddock nodded at Glass Face and the other man broke the window with a tyre-lever from his car’s tool kit. Both men crouched down waiting for a response from inside but there was none. While the Thai pointed his revolver at the door to the corridor, Braddock raised the container to the sill and poured the petrol into the office.

The Englishman took out a packet of Marlboro cigarettes and lit one. His companion regarded him anxiously but Braddock just shook his head.

From the other end of the building came a dull boom as the first of the Molotov cocktails exploded inside the factory.

“Tell me, have you ever seen any of the ‘Die Hard’ movies?” Braddock asked Glass Face.

“All of them,” the Thai replied.

Braddock nodded. He took a final puff on his cigarette then flicked it casually through the broken window.

“Yippee ki-yay,” he said.

*       *       *       *       *

Bumibol
had been pacing around in an agony of indecision trying to figure out what to do.

When he heard the first bang he
realized immediately what was happening. Within seconds the rooms to the north were aflame from the gasoline-filled bottles, and the offices to the south were also burning. Acrid smoke was already curling through the corridors of the building and the first blasts of exploding gunpowder could be heard.