The Half-Child (27 page)

‘So I go through your notes and find the number for the Children's Centre. Next I am asking our hotel receptionist,

Miss Yui, to please be phoning the centre pretending to be the mother of a sick child and asking for the name of the consulting doctor. Miss Yui is then obtaining his address from directory assistance.

‘I impose on Miss Yui to assist me again by calling the Pattaya police on my behalf and report you as a missing person, last seen in the vicinity of the doctor's rooms.

When I am leafing through your notes, I also find a mobile phone number for Police Major General Wichit. I recall you mentioned you had a friend who was a Police Major General and I am thinking this must be the one. Yet again Miss Yui is coming to my aid, calling Major General Wichit from my phone. We learn he can speak English and Miss Yui puts him on to me.

‘I am surprised to learn that he is actually nearing Pattaya as we speak, coming to find you, Jayne. So I am giving him the address of the doctor's rooms. Finally, after all this excitement, I thank Miss Yui and step outside to smoke a cigarette. That is when I see you.'

‘
What
?'

‘I am about to light my cigarette when I see a car pull up behind the hotel. To my surprise, it is that guard from the centre who is getting out. I see him open the back door of the car and drag something out. It's
you
, Jayne. I am horrified. I am thinking they have killed you.

‘Next thing a man dressed like a cook is appearing and the two men are carrying you towards the service lift.'

Rajiv paused, stared at the floor as he told the next part of the story.

‘Perhaps you are thinking I should have run after them.

But it is two against one and I know very well that I am no match for that guard. So I am doing the best I can. I am hitting redial on my phone, telling the Major General to get to the hotel. I am rushing back inside to raise the alarm, and together Miss Yui and I are trying to find a hotel guard to go up to the rooftop. But the guards are all convinced it is haunted by the ghost of the dead Australian girl. Before we can talk the guards into it, the police are arriving.'

‘Your assistant is a very smart man,' Wichit chimed in.

‘He saved your life. Thai people would say this now makes him responsible for you.'

Jayne stared past him, looking at Rajiv as she spoke.

‘Where I come from, it's me who should feel grateful to him.'

Wichit looked from Jayne to Rajiv and back again. She seemed dazed, though whether due to the trauma of the assault or to Rajiv's story, Wichit couldn't tell. He hoped she understood that Rajiv had done the right thing—that she wasn't a hopeless romantic like his wife Sangravee, who equated heroism with the kind of egotistical acts of stupidity that in Wichit's experience usually endangered lives.

‘We arrested Chaowalit on the spot,' he continued. ‘At this stage, we're charging him with assault and intention to cause grievous bodily harm. This could be upgraded to attempted murder.'

Jayne closed her eyes. A subject for another time.

‘The Pattaya police went to Doctor Somsri's rooms after they received Rajiv's call and found the building ablaze.

They think the fire may have been caused by an explosion of chemicals stored on the premises.'

‘Let me guess, all files were destroyed.'

‘Yes.'

‘Deliberately lit?'

‘No way of knowing yet. The doctor admits he was there earlier in the evening and caught you snooping through confidential medical files. Says he asked his bodyguard to remove you from the premises as an intruder but when you fainted, he took pity on you and suggested Chaowalit return you to your hotel instead.'

‘Un-fucking-believable.' Jayne shook her head. ‘What about Frank Harding?'

‘Disappeared,' Wichit said. ‘We've got an alert out at every immigration checkpoint in the country but nothing yet.'

Jayne closed her eyes. No one said anything for a moment.

‘The plastic bags,' she said suddenly, eyes wide open. ‘In my clothes. Kob's death certificate. Did anyone find it and—' ‘We have it,' Wichit said, ‘but it doesn't prove much.'

‘It proves Kob's death was faked.'

‘Not necessarily. The only evidence you had of the baby being alive is a photograph, which could have been taken
before
he died.'

‘But it wasn't!' Jayne shook her head, causing her to wince in pain. ‘Kob is alive. He was handed over to an American couple named King—Leroy and Alicia—to be adopted. Surely the US Embassy can confirm seeing him since the photo was taken, after he's supposed to have died?'

‘The embassy's closed until Wednesday for Chinese New Year,' Wichit said. ‘We haven't talked with them yet. We can't, until we have incontrovertible evidence.'

Jayne sighed. ‘I don't believe this.'

‘They won't agree to an investigation without proof of significant irregularities. And we don't have that. At least not yet.'

Jayne closed her eyes. No one spoke.

‘I'll get the evidence,' she said. She opened her eyes and eased herself up. ‘How soon can I get out of here?'

‘That will be a matter for the doctors—' Rajiv began.

She held up her hand. ‘I feel fine. Rajiv, can you figure out how I can get to Kanchanaburi and back by Wednesday?'

‘Jayne, I don't think you should—'

‘You're still my assistant, aren't you?'

Wichit could see it was time for him to leave. ‘The doctor tells me you can go home within a couple of days,' he said, rising to his feet. ‘I'll keep in touch.'

He patted Jayne carefully on the arm to avoid her bruises and shook hands with Rajiv.

‘Take care of yourself, young man.'

‘Thank you, Major General.'

And good luck, he added under his breath. I'm guessing you'll need it.

Both of them spoke at once.

‘I've got to get out—'

‘You've got to take care—'

They stopped, paused for breath, tried again.

‘I'm so grateful—'

‘I'm so relieved—'

They smiled.

Rajiv shuffled along the bed to get closer to her. He picked up her hand and traced around the purple bruise with his fingertips.

‘When I saw Chaowalit drag you out of that car, I thought you were dead. You weren't moving…'

He looked away. ‘I did not know what to do.'

‘You did well.' Jayne patted his arm. ‘Like Wichit said, you saved my life.'

She reached up to stroke his face. Rajiv kissed her gently like she might break. She pulled him to her and kissed him so hard it hurt. She didn't care. She wanted to feel something, anything.

‘Whoa.'

He pulled away, gave her a worried look. ‘Jayne, what's gotten into you?'

‘I'm just glad to be alive,' she said.

It sounded hollow but Rajiv smiled.

‘So,
boss
,' he said, ‘are you serious about going to Kanchanaburi?'

‘I have to find Mayuree, bring her to Bangkok to explain to the Americans that she didn't relinquish her son. It's the best evidence I can think of. I just wish I knew how to get to the Kings as well.'

‘Leave it to me,' Rajiv said.

‘I was only joking about being my assistant.'

Rajiv held up one hand. ‘Leave it to me,' he said again.

Jayne watched him go, jealous of his energy and enthusiasm, neither of which she had. She lay still for a long time, forgoing more painkillers, trying to sort through her emotions.

She knew Rajiv was right not to have jumped in and tried to save her from Chaowalit. That was the sort of foolhardy thing Jayne would have done and lived to regret.

Or not.

He was right when he said he was no match for the Thai guard. Jayne thought the same herself. That Rajiv was smarter, wittier, more handsome didn't matter. Chaowalit would have punched that mouth, smashed that beautiful face, beaten that fine mind to a pulp.

Rajiv was considered where Jayne would have been rash, methodical where she was impulsive, cautious where she was…what? What
was
the opposite of cautious? Brave? Or reckless?

Rajiv was right about everything.

So why didn't she feel anything for him any more?

34

J
ayne was released from hospital the following afternoon. Her doctor, in collusion with Major General Wichit, insisted she attend a counselling session before they'd let her go. The counsellor was a buxom Englishwoman with hair too big, clothes too small and a voice too cheerful. She introduced herself as Candy, and Jayne wondered if she'd handpicked the name to go with her saccharine manner.

‘So, how are you, Jayne?'

‘Much better, thank you. Shoulder hardly hurts at all.'

‘No, I mean, how
are
you, emotionally speaking?'

‘Fine.'

‘
Really
?'

‘Does that disappoint you?'

‘Of course not. It's just that you've recently survived a
life-threatening incident
,' she said, an implicit ‘bravo' in her voice, ‘and it's normal for people in your situation to experience a range of symptoms we psychologists refer to as
post traumatic stress disorder.
These include depression, mood swings, listlessness, inability to concentrate, insomnia, paranoia…' Candy prattled on and Jayne tuned out, the whole exercise beneath her. Private detectives didn't have counselling. Philip Marlowe would never have put up with this shit.

‘…and sexual promiscuity,' Candy continued.

This caught Jayne's attention.

‘Survivors may indulge in risky behaviours such as unprotected sex with strangers as a life-affirming act.'

Sounds good to me,
Jayne thought.

‘Some feel superhuman, as if nothing can touch them. At the other extreme, you may feel suicidal.'

In her mind, Jayne chastised the counsellor for her clumsiness: using the third person to describe activities at the fun end of the spectrum and the second person to describe suicide was hardly playing fair.

‘Are you saying I should give in to all of these impulses or none of them?'

‘Ah, Jayne, you still have your sense of humour. That's a good sign. I'm saying that these impulses and symptoms are
normal
for survivors of trauma. People experience one of three responses in the face of a traumatic incident: flight, fight or freeze. You fought back—that bodes well for your recovery. In the meantime, if you do experience any symptoms, please don't hesitate to contact me.'

She handed over her business card. Jayne glanced at it to be polite and suppressed a guffaw. Candy's surname was Sweet.

‘I appreciate your time,' she said, rising to her feet.

‘No, I appreciate
yours
,' Candy gushed.

They shook hands.

‘Didn't have a choice,' Jayne said.

To her satisfaction, Candy looked wounded by this parting shot.

Jayne expected to find her apartment hot and musty after more than a week away. But the place was clean and cool, and there were fresh orchids patterned like leopard-skin in a vase on the dining table that doubled as her desk.

Rajiv.

The same impulse that took pleasure from slighting Candy wanted to toss the orchids in the bin—sending flowers could not make up for failing to step in to save her life—and this struck Jayne as a good thing. Instead of feeling nothing for Rajiv, she hated him. She was making progress.

Her mobile phone rang. Caller ID identified the man himself. Jayne let it ring five times, toying with the idea of telling him she never wanted to see him again.

‘I found the Americans,' Rajiv said.

She made a snap decision for a stay of execution.

‘
What
? How?'

‘If I'm telling you, then you will not be needing me as your assistant any more and I will be doing myself out of a job.'

She wasn't in the mood.

‘Just tell me.'

Rajiv cleared his throat. ‘I checked the registrations of all the three, four and five star hotels within a short commute of the US Embassy. I am guessing a couple with a new baby are going to want to stay nearby, what with all the tearing down of the flyovers to make way for the new Skytrain, which will be making the traffic in Bangkok worse than ever.'

‘Yes, yes. And?'

‘Suriya Hotel,' Rajiv said. ‘Soi Ruam Rudee, almost directly behind the US Embassy.'

‘Great job. Thanks.'

‘So does this mean you will be keeping me on as your assistant?'

His tone was playful, almost cocky. He was oblivious to the fraying of the thread from which he hung.

‘That depends,' she said curtly. ‘Have you organised the tickets to Kanchanaburi?'

‘I've booked the train at seven forty-five tomorrow morning.'

‘
Tomorrow morning
? You idiot! I told you I need to leave today.'

The vehemence of her outburst shocked them both into silence.

‘I assumed you would be wanting to interview the Americans as soon as possible and kept this afternoon free for that,' Rajiv said after a moment, his voice calm and measured. ‘I am thinking five o'clock is a good time to catch them at their hotel, given they have a small child. The last bus leaves for Kanchanaburi at seven o'clock, but from the Southern Bus Terminal across the river. You would be needing at least an hour, maybe two to get there on time, which you cannot do if you are meeting the Americans, isn't it?

‘Correct me if I'm wrong, but I guessed sharing a minibus full of backpackers was not an option, which rules out a late departure tonight. And seeing as you would have to wait until tomorrow to leave anyway, I booked the train because it is one of the most scenic rail journeys in Thailand and I thought it would do you good.'

She could find fault with neither his logic nor judgment, which only made her hate him more.