The Axe Factor: A Jimm Juree Mystery (Jimm Juree Mysteries) (27 page)

“You pay attention to my stories?”

“Of course I do. Don’t be rude. I listen to all your cases. You’re my lifeline to the exciting world I don’t live in. I’d been hoping you’d ask me to help find her, but you never did.”

“You were always off with Gaew.”

“Only because I didn’t have a purpose at the resort. Cleaning rooms that nobody stays in. Sweeping a beach that gets a new batch of garbage every day. But, anyway, I wondered whether your running off had anything to do with Dr. Somluk. So I called Nurse Da.”

“You had her number?”

“Yes … I…”

“I know. I bet you’ve got a lot of numbers of single women.”

“I don’t ask for them.”

“I know you don’t, and you’re too polite not to key them into your phone when they give them. So, anyway…?”

“So, anyway, she told me about your meeting with Dr. Somluk. As you’ve been working on it so hard, I thought that would be a big enough reason to go out in this weather. I went to the health center and I found your bicycle. Grandma Nida, who lives opposite the clinic, told me she’d heard an old pick-up truck drive into the car park about five forty-five and then drive out again a few minutes later. This was just before all the power went off. The whole district was blacked out. So, being a nosy old dear, she had her head out the window watching the truck leave. She couldn’t see who was in the cab, but she did recognize the hospital sticker on the tailgate.

“It was the only clue I had, and Grandad Jah and Chompu had turned off their phones, so I took a chance. You’d already mentioned Dr. June, so I went to her office, but it was dark and there was nobody there. The guard said the doctor must be working late in the new complex again. She usually locked the door, he said, but I found it unlocked when I got there and a bunch of keys still in the lock. I suppose … she must have opened it. The dead woman.”

“Yes, mate. So it seems.”

I kissed him again and thanked him for being related to me. I promised I’d involve him more closely in future cases. He didn’t say anything, but I caught the reflection of his smile in the window.

I was wide-eyed conscious of the fact that I should have been dead rather than drinking hot tea in the office of a nice policeman with sideburns. I should have been dead because I’d missed the clues. I should have been dead because I’d allowed myself to select a likely antagonist and ignored everything and everybody else. Really, I should have been dead.

The captain who interviewed me was a bit out of his depth with axe murderers. He was clearly relieved when Major General Suvit arrived, dragged from a reception at the Kangaroo Hotel. I’d heard about the tough, apparently clean policeman they nicknamed Ridgeback, but this was the first time we’d worked together on a case. I mean, him asking questions. Me answering.

“You do know you can’t print any of this?” he said once he’d heard the entire, ridiculous story. We had six other senior officers sitting around us with notepads.

“Well, indeed I can,” I told him.

“It’s an ongoing case. I can block anything you care to write.”

I smiled at him. He was probably in his fifties but unmarked by time. A good jaw. A trim figure. Kind eyes. Chompu had hinted that he might even be incorruptible, which was a bit like saying dolphins don’t necessarily need water.

“What ongoing case?” I said. “You have a dead body, two eyewitnesses, and a suspect with a self-inflicted amputation. You even have the murder weapon peppered with fingerprints. And I’d be surprised if you didn’t find e-mails on her computer linking her to a missing doctor and a huge disgraceful advertising campaign launched by the true villains in this drama, the Medley Corporation. But one nutty case at a time, right?”

I wouldn’t have been surprised about what they’d find on Dr. June’s computer because in the car over, I’d arranged for Sissi to copy a legible version of all her encrypted messages into her inbox. And I was being particularly disrespectful to a senior policeman because cheating death allows one a certain level of cockiness. But I was also wondering why the major was being so unenthusiastic about this self-solving case. It would certainly look good in the press.

“This is a police investigation,” he said. “Not a newspaper exposé. Details of the case will be released by my department as they unfold, after a thorough check of the facts. Any public disclosure of events by a material witness will be considered interference, and you would be subject to arrest. Do I make myself clear?”

“Perfectly,” I said. “And how is the progress going on the new police gymnasium?”

“What on earth has that to do with anything?”

“Well … Major, when I was doing research on the Medley Corporation’s involvement in rural communities, I found the list of projects they’re involved in. And what should I discover halfway down the list but the Lang Suan police gymnasium, proudly sponsored by Medichoc, Your Family’s Favorite Nibble. I could sing you the jingle as well, but I’m tone deaf.”

“Jimm.”

I’d forgotten Arny was sitting beside me. That happened often. I could tell he was feeling uncomfortable. He often encouraged me to temper my assaults on public officials. But this was important. I ignored him. The major blushed slightly and laughed unconvincingly.

“Are you suggesting,” he said, “that a major murder investigation might be influenced by a relationship with a sponsor?”

“Yes. This is Thailand.”

“You are Thai, aren’t you?”

“Absolutely. So I have a natural right to insult my country. And you know it’s true. Did Dr. June have a hand in getting you the deal?”

He smiled at his wall calendar.

“She did, didn’t she?” I smiled. “Well, I think that’s called a conflict of interest, damning enough to bring in the big boys from Bangkok, don’t you?”

“We’re perfectly capable of impartially conducting our own investigation.”

“I’m sure you’re right. Just as I’m perfectly capable of writing this up in a way that doesn’t negatively influence your case. I could even make it a heroic police operation in the sticks rather than, say, a mania triggered by pressure from a demonic multinational organization.”

“Are you blackmailing me?”

“A bit.”

Arny slumped back in his chair. It had been an exhausting night, and I wasn’t helping him to relax at all. The major stared into my bloodshot eyes.

“You don’t want to make an enemy of me, Jimm Juree,” he said.

“Not at all,” I agreed. “As my readers will learn when I describe the case, you are a conscientious, hard-working ally. A good friend. The country will love you. Never underestimate the power of the press.”

It was a bold speech from an unemployed journalist who made a living correcting bad English. The sign on his wall said, in Thai, THE ROYAL THAI POLICE ARE ALWAYS UPRIGHT AND HONEST. The English translation would have it that THE THAILAND POLICEMAN ALWAYS ERECT AND STRAIGHTFORWARD.

He stood, glared at me once more, and said, “You can write your damned story.”

And without another word, he left the room, trailed by his six silent aides. I had indeed made an enemy, and I knew I would come to regret it.

*   *   *

Lieutenant Chompu, Captain Kow, and Grandad Jah were sitting in the public waiting area when Arny and I emerged. A red beach umbrella flew past the entrance and momentarily distracted me. The police station car park was a pond in which Chompu’s SUV floated like a shiny black lotus. There was a lot of touching and feeling with everyone except Grandad. I ignored their questions about me and trauma and whether I’d be all right.

“Is Mair okay?” I asked.

“High and dry,” said Captain Kow. “Her and the dogs. The local headman came by earlier and evacuated everyone. There’s probably nothing to worry about, but the surf’s high and these storm surges are unpredictable.”

“They’re reporting five-meter waves off Chumphon estuary,” said Grandad. “They’re billeting everyone in schools till it’s all over. Everyone but your foolish mother, that is.”

“Why except her?” I asked.

“She refused to leave without the dogs and the cows,” said Chompu. “And the schools aren’t accepting any livestock.”

“So, where is she?”

“She’s in the hut in my palm garden,” said Kow. “It’s on high ground. Bit cramped, but as long as she leaves the cows outside…”

“I can’t even guarantee she’ll do that.” I smiled. “Thanks, Kow.”

“You’re welcome … my daughter.”

“You poor darling,” said Chompu. “You’ve had such an awful night. I heard all about it from the desk sergeant. And I’m afraid I should accept some of the blame for what happened over there at the hospital.”

“Why on earth should you do that?” I asked.

“Dr. Niramon was one of the people I phoned when we were trying to get through to you. She lives in a dormitory behind the hospital. She promised to go over to see if Dr. June had any idea where you were. She had a spare key to the operating room. She must have walked in on…”

Chompu shed a tear. He was fragile and I knew the thought that he’d caused someone’s death would linger for a long time. I put my arm around him and rested my cheek on his shoulder until his sobs subsided. I looked at my father and grandfather, who were both averting their eyes. I’d rather been hoping to see my Englishman waiting there, but it occurred to me he didn’t know anything about the night’s events. He probably felt he’d been stood up. I’d tried to call him from the police truck, but the signal said he wasn’t connected.

“I don’t suppose any of you have seen Conrad tonight?” I asked.

“Oh … we’ve seen him,” said Grandad.

“Pretty much all of him,” Chompu said with a sigh, pleased to be given more pleasant thoughts.

The three men giggled like schoolgirls.

“What?” said I.

“There’s a story you need to hear,” said Grandad.

“I’ll tell her,” said Chompu.

“What? What is it?” I asked.

“Your boyfriend’s a sleaze bucket,” said Grandad.

“That’s exactly why I should tell this story,” said Chompu.

“Filth,” said Grandad.

“If somebody doesn’t tell me soon, there’s a perfectly good axe in the evidence room just back there,” I said. “I swear…”

“All right, here it is…” began Chompu, and he told me the whole story, from the surveillance, to the naked dinner, to the Agatha Christie gathering in the living room. It sounded like a fun evening, and believe me I wish I could have been there to enjoy it. But nothing they told me made me think any less of my dashing writer. Not, that is, until they got to the part about the maid. They’d asked her why she felt she had to warn me on that first day at his house.

“At first, she wouldn’t say,” said Chompu. “She said she was just making a friendly suggestion from one woman to another. Then I reminded her she didn’t have a work permit and that I was a policeman. Thence honesty set in.”

“A scumbag,” said Grandad.

“Your writer seems to be doing the rounds,” said Chompu.

“Of what?” I asked.

“Of the local gals.”

“Oh.”

“He’s bedded every remotely attractive woman in the district and not a few plain ugly ones,” said Grandad. “Wouldn’t be at all surprised if that’s why his wife left him. No-good lump of—”

“The staff are apparently given a lot of nights off,” said Chompu. “But there are … how can I put it? Remains. Sometimes in the form of prophylactics…”

“Eeuw.”

“… or certain … equipment. As you’ve been there, I’m sure I don’t have to go into any detail. But often, actual young ladies come down for breakfast in various states. A recognized a lot of them as local girls. She’d tried to warn them, but they rarely listened.”

Guilty. And as if it had always been there, waiting for recognition, the nickname Gogo passed into my mind. The Thai pronunciation for Cocoa. Or Co … Co. Eighty-six kilos would be overweight for a Thai, but perfectly normal for a tall Westerner. For a tall Westerner like Conrad Coralbank. It wasn’t a coincidence that my horny writer and our local nurse had disappeared during the same twenty-four-hour period. Da was another one of his local conquests. A friendly smile cuts through a lot of language barriers. And I bet he charmed them all the same way he’d won me. It wouldn’t have surprised me if he had a list somewhere with ticks beside the names.

But what the heck? I used him, didn’t I? And just where did unfaithful men fit in a cosmic chart that included things like almost being chopped up with an axe? What did I care? In a way I felt pleased for all the women he’d bedded politely and respectfully—whom he’d gone out of his way to satisfy so they’d go to the pyre knowing, however briefly, what romance felt like. Goodness knows men in this country didn’t bother with any of that unnecessary nonsense. Oh, he was a bastard to all of us, no denying that. But in my case he’d exceeded my expectations and stuck around long enough to give me hope. Hope is a dangerous thing. But still I couldn’t hate him. He’d made me dinner, damn it. Tonight would probably have been the most romantic night of my life. Instead, I’d had the most frightening. Such is fate.

“So why did she pretend that her brother was her husband?” I asked.

“The only way A could keep his hands off her was by pretending she and Jo were married,” said Chompu. “Even then it wasn’t as if he stopped trying. I suppose some heterosexual men can’t keep it locked away.”

18.

Where the Soft Sand Caresses the Horizon

(beach resort ad)

Just like romance, intrigue and Dr. June, who succumbed to her injuries during the night, the storms of Christmas Eve had passed away when the sun came up on Christmas Day.

The conditions had been so awful the night before that when we left the police station, we barely made it to the Hibiscus Motel. There, we’d taken the last two rooms. Arny, Chompu, and I stayed in one room, me in the middle to spare my brother the accidental creeping hands of our randy policeman. Grandad Jah reluctantly shared the other with Captain Kow. Naturally, none of us got a wink of sleep. When we drove out the next morning, Lang Suan looked as if a hurricane had plowed through it. Santa had delivered debris. Vendors were mopping water from their shops. Palm fronds were wrapped around road signs far from any coconut trees. The council garbage bins had been thrown through windows and onto roofs.