dark, not long before the storm. One of them wore a baseball cap…’ He hesitated. ‘Oh, I remember! Their names were Bom and Deh.’
‘Bom and Deh,’ Ratratarn said, ‘that should narrow the field. Idiot! There’d be hundreds men in Chiang Mai who go by those nicknames. Now think again, Officer. Is there anything else you can tell me, anything out of the ordinary you saw last night?’
Komet mulled over it for a moment. ‘Well, I did see a farang woman near the foreigner’s house when I first went on duty.’
‘What farang woman?’ Ratratarn’s tone was no longer sarcastic.
‘I don’t know, Sir. She had white skin. She was standing outside a cafe across the street.’
‘What time was this?’
‘When I arrived, Sir. She might have looked at the house once or twice. But she went away after that.’
‘Think harder, Officer Komet,’ Ratratarn said as he leafed through a pile of documents. ‘What did the farang woman look like?’
Komet took a deep breath. ‘She had dark hair, like a Thai person, but curly.’
‘And was this farang woman’s curly hair short or long?’ Ratratarn said, finger poised on a document.
‘Long enough to touch her shoulders.’
‘Gotcha!’ Ratratarn punched the page in front of him. ‘It’s in the interviews Pornsak and Tanin conducted at the Night Bazaar. Several witnesses reported seeing a farang woman with long, dark, curly hair in the bar that evening.’
‘Oh?’
Ratratarn looked up as if he’d forgotten Komet was in the room. ‘You can go, Officer. But when you resume your post this evening, your orders are to take down the names of all pedestrians—even the damn garbage collectors—and report back on any activity in the area surrounding the foreigner’s house.’
‘Yes, Sir.’
‘One more question. Did you check the locks on the doors and windows after those boys got into a fight in the street?’
‘I’m not sure, Sir.’
Komet regretted the words as soon as he’d said them.
‘Damn it, Komet! Did you or did you not check the doors and windows after the boys had left?’
‘I checked the front door, Sir. But maybe not the back…’ ‘Just get out of here!’
Ratratarn picked up the phone and began making a call before Komet had even closed the door.
The young officer resolved to be more diligent. He would check the doors and windows every hour. He would take down the names of everyone who even glanced in his direction. And he would not let his imagination run away with him. As Ratratarn said, phii were things peasants believed in, not members of the Chiang Mai police. Komet had a job to do. And with a baby due in the cool season, it was vital he kept doing it.
The line was busy. Ratratarn smoked a cigarette before trying again. It was risky, calling from his office. But his mobile phone battery was flat and it couldn’t wait. He had to talk to Kelly.
Ratratarn didn’t like dealing with farangs; but the building that housed Kelly’s venture was owned by the jao por whose business interests Ratratarn protected. And it wasn’t a task he could delegate—despite years in the country, Kelly hadn’t learned Thai, whereas Ratratarn spoke reasonable English, a result of being posted as a young officer to the US Air Force base in Udon Thani.
He tried the number again. The phone was answered with a gruff ‘ kup ’. It was Kelly’s bouncer, Mongkol, a man with the face of a bullfrog and charm to match.
‘Get Kelly,’ Ratratarn said.
‘G’day Lieutenant Colonel,’ Kelly came on the line almost immediately. ‘What’s up?’
Ratratarn cleared his throat. ‘Looks like the foreign woman resurfaced last night.’
‘Are you serious? This is bad.’
It irked Ratratarn that Kelly only considered the situation serious when another foreigner was involved. He’d tied up loose ends within his own ranks, even allowing that imbecile Komet to take the credit for locating the murder weapon. Yet Kelly showed no sign of feeling under threat
‘Bom and Deh,’ Ratratarn said, ‘that should narrow the field. Idiot! There’d be hundreds men in Chiang Mai who go by those nicknames. Now think again, Officer. Is there anything else you can tell me, anything out of the ordinary you saw last night?’
Komet mulled over it for a moment. ‘Well, I did see a farang woman near the foreigner’s house when I first went on duty.’
‘What farang woman?’ Ratratarn’s tone was no longer sarcastic.
‘I don’t know, Sir. She had white skin. She was standing outside a cafe across the street.’
‘What time was this?’
‘When I arrived, Sir. She might have looked at the house once or twice. But she went away after that.’
‘Think harder, Officer Komet,’ Ratratarn said as he leafed through a pile of documents. ‘What did the farang woman look like?’
Komet took a deep breath. ‘She had dark hair, like a Thai person, but curly.’
‘And was this farang woman’s curly hair short or long?’ Ratratarn said, finger poised on a document.
‘Long enough to touch her shoulders.’
‘Gotcha!’ Ratratarn punched the page in front of him. ‘It’s in the interviews Pornsak and Tanin conducted at the Night Bazaar. Several witnesses reported seeing a farang woman with long, dark, curly hair in the bar that evening.’
‘Oh?’
Ratratarn looked up as if he’d forgotten Komet was in the room. ‘You can go, Officer. But when you resume your post this evening, your orders are to take down the names of all pedestrians—even the damn garbage collectors—and report back on any activity in the area surrounding the foreigner’s house.’
‘Yes, Sir.’
‘One more question. Did you check the locks on the doors and windows after those boys got into a fight in the street?’
‘I’m not sure, Sir.’
Komet regretted the words as soon as he’d said them.
‘Damn it, Komet! Did you or did you not check the doors and windows after the boys had left?’
‘I checked the front door, Sir. But maybe not the back…’ ‘Just get out of here!’
Ratratarn picked up the phone and began making a call before Komet had even closed the door.
The young officer resolved to be more diligent. He would check the doors and windows every hour. He would take down the names of everyone who even glanced in his direction. And he would not let his imagination run away with him. As Ratratarn said, phii were things peasants believed in, not members of the Chiang Mai police. Komet had a job to do. And with a baby due in the cool season, it was vital he kept doing it.
The line was busy. Ratratarn smoked a cigarette before trying again. It was risky, calling from his office. But his mobile phone battery was flat and it couldn’t wait. He had to talk to Kelly.
Ratratarn didn’t like dealing with farangs; but the building that housed Kelly’s venture was owned by the jao por whose business interests Ratratarn protected. And it wasn’t a task he could delegate—despite years in the country, Kelly hadn’t learned Thai, whereas Ratratarn spoke reasonable English, a result of being posted as a young officer to the US Air Force base in Udon Thani.
He tried the number again. The phone was answered with a gruff ‘ kup ’. It was Kelly’s bouncer, Mongkol, a man with the face of a bullfrog and charm to match.
‘Get Kelly,’ Ratratarn said.
‘G’day Lieutenant Colonel,’ Kelly came on the line almost immediately. ‘What’s up?’
Ratratarn cleared his throat. ‘Looks like the foreign woman resurfaced last night.’
‘Are you serious? This is bad.’
It irked Ratratarn that Kelly only considered the situation serious when another foreigner was involved. He’d tied up loose ends within his own ranks, even allowing that imbecile Komet to take the credit for locating the murder weapon. Yet Kelly showed no sign of feeling under threat
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