The Dying Beach (18 page)

She switched off the ignition and lifted her visor. ‘What?'

‘Are you forgetting again that we are partners?'

Jayne sighed and removed her helmet. ‘Sorry, old habits and all that. I figured we'd go to Neua Khlong town next, see if we can track down this Bapit. It's on the way back to Krabi.'

She saw scepticism on Rajiv's face. ‘Okay, Rajiv, tell me what you're thinking. But can you make it quick? I'm not sure how long I'll last in this sun.'

‘I am thinking that I don't know what to be thinking, Jayne. We have been visiting the villages closest to the power plant and if there was ever any controversy about the project in the past, I am no longer seeing any evidence of it. Everyone has only good things to say about Miss Pla, so much so that I'm starting to wonder whether our logic is faulty.'

‘What do you mean?'

‘We assume there is a connection between the deaths of Miss Pla and Miss Suthita. But what if the deaths are unrelated?'

‘We have good reason to believe foul play was involved in Suthita's death,' Jayne said.

‘Yes, but we are assuming that because Miss Suthita's death is suspicious, Miss Pla's must be also. Because it seems wrong that she should drown. But what if we are mistaken?'

He gestured at the road ahead of them. ‘It is like this village. If we are turning only right at this point in the road, we would leave Laem Kruad in the firm belief that this is a quiet Chinese-Thai village. If we are turning only left, we would believe Laem Kruad is a lively village of songbird-loving Muslims.'

‘But we didn't,' Jayne said. ‘We saw both sides of Laem Kruad. We looked at the big picture—like we're trying to do with Pla's death.'

Rajiv shook his head. ‘All what I am suggesting is that we do not go off half-cocked interrogating any more people until we have some stronger leads.'

Jayne could recognise an impasse when she saw one. Rajiv wanted facts where she could only offer him intuition. She might have put up a fight, except she knew an effective case needed both. Besides, it was too hot to argue.

‘And how do you propose we get some stronger leads?' she asked, through gritted teeth.

‘I'm not sure,' Rajiv said. ‘Perhaps if we'd been able to talk with the farang who found Pla's body…'

Jayne's mind ticked over. ‘There might be another way. We could get a look at the forensic report, or at least talk to whoever did the autopsy.'

‘Would that really help? Surely if there was evidence of foul play, the police would have intervened.'

She gave him a withering look. ‘The cops get paid to cover up things like this all the time. We shouldn't assume no police investigation equals no evidence of foul play.'

Rajiv still looked sceptical.

‘Tell you what, I'll forget about Bapit for now. Let's go to Krabi town. I'll see if I can track down the forensic examiner and you can check our email and line up more clients for our return.'

This seemed to pacify Rajiv, who put on his helmet and climbed up behind Jayne as she restarted the engine.

Still, as they drove past the turnoff to Neua Khlong town, Jayne couldn't shake the feeling they were taking the wrong route.

29

They stopped for a late lunch at a crowded food stall inside the Krabi market, spared further conversation by a mouth-numbing stir-fry of bamboo shoots, fish balls and chilli. Rajiv left for the internet café, saying he would make his own way back and meet Jayne at the guesthouse.

A call to Police Major General Wichit at the Tourist Police headquarters in Bangkok gave Jayne the name of the forensic examiner and the hospital where she was based. She caught sight of her reflection in the glass doors of the hospital and made a beeline for the bathroom. Riding a motorbike along dirt roads in searing heat had taken its toll. Dust and sweat formed a film of mud on her forehead, her mascara had run and her nose was pink despite the sunscreen she applied compulsively. Her fingernails were filthy and her hair, unruly at the best of times, resembled seaweed. As she dabbed her face with wet toilet paper, Jayne questioned not for the first time the wisdom of living in a country where she consistently fell short of local standards of decorum—standards in which the forensic examiner Doctor Nuchanad proved to be first-rate.

The doctor's lab coat was blindingly white, her hands manicured, her hair cowered into a tight bun. She wore no make-up, her face glowing as if she'd exfoliated in her lunch break.

Jayne might have interpreted the doctor's excessive cleanliness as a defence mechanism, a way of transcending the mess of human viscera in her work, except that in Thailand such cleanliness was a matter of national pride.

Jayne introduced herself and dropped Police Major General Wichit's name. Doctor Nuchanad said she couldn't show Jayne the forensic report on Khun Chanida Manakit, but she agreed to talk about it if Jayne would put in a good word for her with the police major general. She'd always wanted to work in Bangkok.

‘The autopsy resulted in a finding of death by drowning,' Doctor Nuchanad said.

Jayne looked over the doctor's shoulder at the certificates on the office wall. The framed photo on her desk was of a fluffy white cat. A woman for whom work was very important.

‘If it's not too much trouble, Doctor, would you explain how a forensic examiner comes to such a finding?'

Doctor Nuchanad's eyes lit up at the prospect. ‘Well, some pathological changes are characteristic of drowning but the diagnosis is largely one of exclusion.'

‘I'm sorry?'

‘There are signs—like the presence of foam in the airways and fluid on the lungs—that are characteristic of drowning. But these signs can also be found in deaths from other causes, such as heart failure, drug overdose and head injury. The solution is to rule out the other possibilities. In Khun Chanida's case, we were able to rule out heart attack and drug overdose through pathology.'

‘What about head injury? Could she have been hit before she entered the water?'

‘It's difficult to distinguish ante-mortem from post-mortem injuries in bodies recovered from the water,' the doctor said. ‘Water immersion leaches the blood from ante-mortem wounds—'

‘
Kor thort na ka
, Doctor,' Jayne said, struggling to grasp the technical language. ‘Can you explain in simple terms?'

Doctor Nuchanad gave her an indulgent smile. ‘A wound inflicted prior to drowning will bleed, but the blood is often washed away as the body is buffeted about in the water. A wound that occurs after drowning isn't supposed to bleed, but because corpses in water always lie face down with the head hanging, blood tends to get congested in the head. Therefore injuries to the face and head after drowning can bleed.'

Jayne was starting to feel sorry she asked. ‘Were there wounds on Khun Chanida's body?'

‘There were head and facial injuries consistent with the body sinking and bumping up against the rocks. The ligature marks were most likely inflicted during the recovery of the body,' Doctor Nuchanad said.

‘Ligature marks?'

‘The body was secured by boatmen while they waited for the police to arrive.'

Jayne took a moment to process all the information. ‘It actually sounds quite difficult to reach a verdict of drowning.'

Doctor Nuchanad took it as a compliment. ‘As I said, the diagnosis is largely one of exclusion. By ruling out pre-existing health conditions and signs of drug or alcohol use, and in the absence of suspicious circumstances, accidental death by drowning is a logical conclusion when a young Thai woman's corpse is founding floating in the sea.'

‘So there were no suspicious circumstances in this case?'

‘I factor the police report into my verdict,' Doctor Nuchanad said.

‘So the police found no suspicious circumstances.'

‘Apparently not,' the doctor said, glancing at her watch. ‘You'll have to forgive me, Khun Jayne. I am due in the laboratory.'

Jayne chose her words carefully. ‘Tell me, doctor, would it have made a difference to your diagnosis to know that Khun Chanida was a strong swimmer and worked as a diving instructor for a tour company in Ao Nang?'

She could've sworn she saw a hair on Doctor Nuchanad's head slip out of place as she hastened to her appointment.

Jayne made her way back to Ao Nang to return the rented motorbike. While she might have given Doctor Nuchanad pause, she had little to offer Rajiv as proof that foul play was involved in Pla's death. She might distract him by discussing how surprisingly inconclusive the forensic evidence is when it comes to death by drowning. But not for long. He would argue, quite sensibly, that the time had come to wind up their investigation and return to Bangkok. And she had no grounds to convince him otherwise. Nothing but a gut feeling as persistent as an intestinal parasite.

Othong felt his uncle's eyes on him all morning, as if the old man could read his mind. Bapit made no mention of the dead farang. But Othong couldn't shake the feeling his uncle knew about it, knew Othong had fucked up again. It pained him that Uncle Bapit persisted in focusing on his faults when he was only trying to protect his uncle's interests.

Time came around for the lunch break. Othong ate less than he normally would so his uncle wouldn't think him greedy. He kept one eye on his watch, barely dozing in place of his usual nap to ensure he wouldn't be late back from the break. He was first to resume shovelling when the afternoon shift began. But his uncle seemed not to notice any of his efforts.

Cranky with fatigue and nursing a mild headache, Othong frowned when a man walked into the compound and handed him a note. He deciphered it slowly, reading not being his strong suit.

‘Chanting for drowned girl starts tonight. Cremation Thursday.'

The message was from his friend Fatty. Othong looked up but the messenger had already gone. His headache lifted on a surge of energy. The farang was almost within reach. She was bound to turn up for the funeral, if not the chanting for the two nights beforehand. He would go to the temple that evening and lie in wait for her like a lion. Sooner or later, she would come to him.

Othong forgot his beef with his uncle. He channelled his excitement into his labour, finishing the load in record time. The effort impressed Bapit, who raised his eyebrows in grudging respect. But Othong was too preoccupied to give it any weight.

30

Jayne decided to drop into the Barracuda Tours office on her way back to the guesthouse to let the staff know about Pla's funeral arrangements. She stood in line at the counter behind a woman with cropped blonde hair whose sleeveless white shirt accentuated her tan. She was surprised to hear another farang speaking Thai, even more so when she realised what the woman was talking about.

‘At which temple is the funeral for Miss Pla?' the woman asked the pretty boy behind the counter.

‘Yes, at the temple.' The boy nodded.

‘But which one?' she persevered. ‘What is the name of the temple?'

‘Yes, the temple,' the boy said again.

Jayne stepped forward. ‘I think I can help.'

The woman turned to face her, blue eyes framed by square spectacles. Jayne noted that she not only spoke Thai but had mastered the art of the exasperation-masking smile.

‘The funeral will be at Wat Sai Thai this Thursday. That's in two days' time,' Jayne added for the pretty boy's benefit. ‘The chanting starts tonight. Please let Miss Pla's friends and colleagues know.'

The boy's jaw dropped; two Thai-speaking farangs in the tour agency proved too much for him.

‘Do you speak English?' Jayne asked the farang.

The woman nodded and extended her hand. ‘Sigrid. From Norway.'

Sigrid from Norway
. It took Jayne a moment to grasp the significance. ‘Jayne,' she said, slowly shaking the woman's hand. ‘From Australia. Shall we?'

Jayne tilted her head towards the doorway and Sigrid followed her outside into the shade of a large tree.

‘Lucky for me you came along when you did or I might have throttled that boy.' Sigrid gave her a crooked smile. ‘Did you know Pla well?'

Jayne shook her head. ‘We took a tour with her the day before she died. But she was such a terrific young woman…' She let her voice trail off, hoping Sigrid wouldn't notice that in her excitement, she'd broken out in a sweat.

‘So true,' the Norwegian said. ‘I had the good fortune to go on a few tours with Pla. She was exceptional. It makes her death seem all the more wrong.'

‘It doesn't sit right with me at all.' Jayne handed Sigrid a business card. ‘In fact, I'm taking a closer look into the circumstances of Miss Pla's death.'

‘“Keeney and Patel Private Investigators”,' Sigrid read aloud. ‘I'm guessing you're Keeney, right?'

Jayne nodded, pretending to fluff her hair while wiping the sweat from her brow. ‘The police have ruled Pla's death as accidental, but I find it hard to buy the theory that she drowned.'

‘I'd say you're onto something there,' Sigrid said. ‘I actually saw Pla's body when it washed up on Princess Beach and I'd be surprised if her death was accidental. It looked to me like she'd been strangled.'

‘You saw Pla's body?' Jayne feigned surprise. ‘That must've been awful.'

‘I admit, not what you expect to find at sunrise in paradise,' Sigrid said. ‘But not the worst thing I've ever seen either.'

Jayne murmured sympathetically, and waited a beat so her next question didn't seem too eager. ‘What makes you think Pla was strangled?'

‘I'm a doctor. I'm currently working for Médecins Sans Frontières in South Africa. The murder of women by strangulation is a serious problem there. You learn to recognise the signs.'

‘Bloody hell.' Jayne was both alarmed and impressed. ‘I apologise if I'm being insensitive asking a question like that. It's just that I met with the forensic examiner in Krabi today who told me the ligature marks on Pla's body were inflicted after she drowned, when the body was secured for recovery.'