The Thai Amulet (27 page)

“Yutai!” Wichai said.

“Fatty is his daughter, by the way, by Wongvipa.”

“Ah,” he said. “The power of love. Interesting, indeed. Can you prove it? That Yutai gave Chat the pills?”

“No. But I know what I saw.”

“And about Yutai and Fatty?”

“No, but just take a good look,” I said.

“And are you saying that what Yutai has done, he did with the approval, or at least the acquiescence, of Wongvipa?”

“I am.”

“Even so far as the murder of her own child?” His voice sounded as if someone had put a rope around his neck and was slowly tightening it.

I took a deep breath before I replied. “I don’t know,” I said. “Maybe. Yes. I didn’t see her try to stop it.”

“I see. I can’t say I ever really loved my wife,” Wichai said. “But I have always loved my daughter. You are a fierce adversary, Ms. Lara. I am glad that we are not on opposite sides of this issue. I have found this conversation a most enlightening one. These are perhaps not the kind of people I would be able to do business with at all. Now I think you should go home, don’t you, to Canada? You should take Miss Jennifer with you.”

“That is exactly what I plan to do, Khun Wichai,” I said.

“Good. Thank you for the information, and for the painting,” he said, rising from his chair. “It means a very great deal to me. I remember her a little. Sometimes I still dream about her. Now I think this is good-bye. I believe you and I have reached an understanding here. I don’t anticipate we will ever have the pleasure of meeting again. One of my colleagues will see you safely back to the airport.”

“I have a couple more things,” I said. He remained standing. “It would be very helpful if this colleague of yours could be persuaded to tell someone where William Beauchamp is buried. His daughter requires a great deal of medical attention, and she and her mother would benefit from the life insurance, assuming Beauchamp is proven dead.”

“And the second thing?” he said. His voice was very quiet.

“If you look behind the painting, you’ll find a small package containing a floppy disk taped to the back. It is the only disk I know of, and my paper copy has been destroyed.”

“Good-bye, Ms. Lara,” he said with an almost imperceptible nod.

“Good-bye, Khun Wichai,” I replied. We did not shake hands.

Epilogue

The opportunity to save Ayutthaya from the evil usurper came only two weeks later and was acted upon with considerable speed and the utmost coordination. When the usurper ordered his officials to move out to capture a large male elephant, the four conspirators, joined now by the Phraya ofPhichai and the Phraya of Sawankhalok, moved quickly and assertively. Mun Ratchasena was dispatched to the Sua Landing to wait for Khun Worawongsa’s brother, the upstart
uparat.
The others took to their boats and went to the Pla Mb Canal to wait in ambush.

That day, Mun Ratchasena, who had hidden himself at the landing, shot the
uparat
off his elephant, whereupon the man died. The other conspirators with their supporters, myself among them, rowed their boats right up to the royal barge, upon which rested Khun Worawongsa, Lady Si Sudachan, the daughter of their union, and Prince Si Sin, younger brother of Yot Fa. All were to die. “Save the Prince Si Sin,” I begged them, remembering my mother’s words. Moments later the usurper, the lady, and their daughter were all dead. Prince Si Sin, alone, was spared.

The victorious conspirators then entered the great city and secured the royal palace before taking the Chai Suphannahong Royal Barge to Ratchapraditsathan Monastery to ask Prince Thianracha to leave the monkhood and to accept the throne. The prince agreed, and casting aside his simple monk’s robe, assumed the trappings of majesty. The barge, with the peacock umbrella, fans, and golden shades, and accompanied by vast numbers of subjects, carried the prince to the palace landing, where he was invited to enter the royal palace.

On an auspicious day soon after, with all due ceremony, in the presence of all chief ministers, patriarchs, astrologers, poets and counselors, abbots and monks, Prince Thianracha ascended the throne, taking the royal title of King Chakkraphat.

Those of us who assisted the great prince have been well rewarded, the ministers with positions of great authority, the right and left gold trays of rank, land, and royal ladies and concubines for their wives. I, a lowly commoner, have been given a government post, the hand of my beloved in marriage, and many gifts, among them my most cherished possession. It is a sword, given to me by the king, sharp in its silver scabbard, its bone handle smooth in my hand.

I fear I will have much cause to use it, and indeed have already done so. Our enemies lurk, always poised to take advantage of the slightest sign of weakness. Already there is discontent and intrigue brewing within the cadre of nobles, Prince Si Sin, though he was adopted by our most compassionate king, among them. And sometimes, in the night, I look back on the past with some regret and to the future with much foreboding.

I’ve done a lot of thinking since I got home, most of it in the middle of the night, about whether or not I should have done what I did. In the end I believe justice was done, but at a price I am only just beginning to understand.

I have this idea that there’s a concept in law that has to do with the notion of the reasonable person. It’s a test, really. Could a reasonable person be expected to know something or other? Would a reasonable person act in a certain way? Because that, surely, is the question that haunts my sleep. Could I reasonably have anticipated what would happen next?

This question has cast a shadow on my relationship with Rob. He feels it, too, although he doesn’t understand it. He says he thinks there must be things we need to talk through. I wish I could, but at the end of the day, how could I possibly tell a policeman what I’ve done?

I would dearly like to discuss it with someone. Moira, perhaps, who is my best friend, even if she took up with my ex-husband. She’s smart, and best of all, very down to earth. Or even Clive, who beneath that rather cavalier exterior is actually an intelligent, thoughtful, man. The person I would most like to talk to about this is Jennifer, young as she is, but that’s a long way off. She is, as all have said, resilient, but she still has a way to go. She’s decided to finish up her university studies in Toronto. She can’t bear to go back to California right now.

There are others I remember with real affection from that time: David Ferguson, who was a generous friend, and most especially, Praneet. She has more or less moved into the tiny teak house on the
klong
with David. So far there has not been so much as a peep out of her family about the fact that David is (a) white, and (b) twenty years older than she is. Real life has caught up with some of the Chaiwongs at last.

Then there’s Robert Fitzgerald. His chess sets just fly out of the store. We can’t keep them in stock. Even spirit houses are selling reasonably well. You wouldn’t think there’d be a market in Toronto for spirit houses, but when Clive puts his mind to it, he can sell anything. Be warned. I think of the rather delicate wood-carver every time I sell something he created.

But ask any of these people the question? No. That leaves the demons of the night, some who rush to justify, others who hasten to condemn.

I wanted most of all to avenge Chat Chaiwong, you understand, a fine young man who had the potential to do great things. I also thought a child was entitled to know who his parents were, and perhaps more importantly, to know he was loved. I also wanted to put a stop to it, to strike a blow against the death and destruction those who sell drugs wreak. There is nothing wrong with any of that. The question, however, remains.

About a month after I got home, a plain envelope, with no return address but postmarked Thailand, slid through my mail slot. It contained a clipping from the
Bangkok Herald,
nothing more. According to the reporter’s account, tragedy continued to dog the Chaiwong family. In the most recent event, there had been a terrible boating accident on the Chao Phyra near Ayutthaya, in which Khun Wongvipa, widow of the late industrialist Thaksin Chaiwong and vice president of Ayutthaya Trading and Property, had lost her life. The body of a senior official with the same company, Chief Operating Officer Yutai Boonlong, was found the next day, floating in the river. The only survivor of the accident was Dusit, younger son of Wongvipa, unable at that time to recall anything that had happened. Another child, a daughter, Prapapan, was most fortunately staying with a friend of the family, Busakorn Promthip, at the time of the accident.

Police were trying to determine how an accident of this magnitude could possibly have happened. They cited inexperience as a possible cause, Mr. Yutai having purchased the boat, valued at close to U.S. $100,000 only recently. In a separate and apparently unrelated incident, Mr. Yutai’s brother, Eakrit, was also killed in a car accident as, upon hearing of the boating accident, he raced to the scene.

The article concluded with a statement by a spokesman for Ayutthaya Trading and Property that reassured customers and suppliers of the company that the affairs of the company were in good hands. Khun Sompom Chaiwong, son of Thaksin by his first wife, and one of the few remaining family members, had acted decisively to ensure continuity at the company. A minority shareholder, Khun Wichai Promthip, well known as founder and president of the extremely successful transportation company, Busakorn Shipping, had been persuaded to take the helm.

A couple of weeks later, Natalie Beauchamp called me. “I heard from the Bangkok police,” she said. “They’ve asked me to help arrange to have William’s dental records shipped to them. A body has been found, and they seem pretty sure it’s his. I thought you’d like to know, given how hard you tried to find him.”

“I’m sorry, Natalie,” I said. “But I guess in a way this is good news.”

“Yes,” she said. “The life insurance will make a big difference. Those gemstones did, too. I know William sent them to me originally, but it was you who figured out they were there. I would have left those amulets just lying in a drawer somewhere, or I might even have thrown them out. It would have been thousands of dollars down the drain. I suppose the gems were Will’s way of making amends?”

“I’m sure they were,” I said.

“At least this dentist business will bring closure, if it works out. That’s the most important thing. I feel as if I can get on with my life, and my daughter, in her own way, can, too. I’ve already made inquiries about special programs for her.”

“That’s terrific,” I said.

“The police told me some anonymous person phoned in a tip as to the location of the body. After all this time!” she said. “Don’t you think that’s amazing?”

“Amazing,” I said.