police or soldiers. Even then he always managed to extricate himself in record time from whatever the problem might be.
âWhat we working on, Frank?â Ben said, always eager to get started.
âNathan Kellner,â Delaney said.
âHe coming too?â Ben said. âHavenât seen him for a long while. I donât think Khun Nathan is around.â
âThatâs what weâre working on, Ben. Kellnerâs gone to ground. Iâm looking for him.â âYou not doing a story?â
âMight be. Depends what Kellnerâs up to. Iâve been asked to find out where heâs gone.â
âHeâs in trouble maybe. Like that?â
âYeah.â
Ben was eating nuts one by one, as he always did. He drank beer very slowly and ate peanuts as if time had stood still.
âI never see him now. Never drove for him much anyway. He used another guy. I could ask a few people maybe.â
âOK. Iâm going to go see his girlfriend. Sheâs Thai,â Delaney said.
âAll your guys have Thai girls here, Frank. You would too, in Bangkok,â Ben said with a smile.
âTheyâve been together a long time,â Delaney said. âNot like with the other guys, I would say.â
âMaybe not,â Ben said. Not convinced. âBar girl? Used to be?â
âNo. I donât think so.â
Ben was clearly not convinced.
âLetâs take a run over there so I can talk to her.â
âSure, OK.â
âHis place is on a little soi off Thanon Sathon.â
âNear U.S. Information Service?â
âThatâs it.â
âI know where,â Ben said.
The traffic was dense, but not as dense as Delaney remembered from the last time he had been in Bangkok. It seemed to be getting ever so slightly easier to move around the city each time he came. Perhaps because of the Skytrain that had at long last been built. Perhaps because Bangkok, like so many Asian cities, was becoming more and more Westernized, adopting Western trappings such as traffic lights that worked and driving schools for young people and policemen who, occasionally, refused to look the other way when confronted with egregious infractions of the traffic rules. Perhaps.
The watchman in the dirt courtyard of Kellnerâs apartment block stood up when Delaney arrived. He had watched from a reclining position on his wooden bed when Delaney got out of Benâs car and had sat up when Delaney turned to come onto the property. He stood up only when it was clear Delaney wanted to go inside the building. He offered the Western visitor no wai, a rare failure in Thailand and one that Delaney noted with interest.
Delaney offered the wai and said: âNathan Kellnerâs house.â
No smile from the watchman. Another rare failure in Thailand.
âHe is not here,â the watchman said, looking past Delaneyâs shoulder to the car where Ben was already reading his newspaper.
âI know. I am here to see his girl,â Delaney said.
âYou are a friend?â the watchman said; dubious.
âYes.â
âWhose friend? Mai or Khun Nathan?â
âBoth.â
The watchman looked at him closely.
âCanadian?â
âYes.â
âIâll go see,â the watchman said.
He slid into his sandals, classics with soles made from old automobile tires, and headed through an arch into a ground floor corridor that led to a line of doors painted maroon. Delaney remembered that Kellnerâs apartment was on the ground floor. He turned around to look at Ben Yong, who gave him the thumbs up and an interrogative shrug. Delaney shrugged back.
From far down the corridor, Delaney heard quiet words in Thai, then the slap of the watchmanâs sandals as he came back. Now the wai was offered.
âSo sorry, my friend. Mai is waiting for you now. So sorry.â
âAny troubles here?â Delaney asked.
âYou know,â the
C. J. Cherryh
Learning to Kill: Stories
John O'Riley
Brenda Sinclair
Christopher George
Stephen Lloyd Jones
Karl Iagnemma
Celya Bowers
Jill Gregory
Aria Cunningham