Killing Plato

dinner.”

Jello ran on after that as if I hadn’t said anything worth commenting on. I used two slowly moving girls in high school uniforms to screen off a group of boys who were kicking a soccer ball and then slipped back into stride alongside him again.

“You don’t believe me,” I said.

“How’d you work that out?”

“I’ve got finely honed instincts for subtle human responses.”

“Uh-huh,” he said. “You do.”

We passed the fountain and started around the lake again.

“So,” I said, “know what’s going to happen next?”

“Nope.”

“I do. I’ve got finely honed instincts for predicting the future, too.”

“Is that right?”

“It is. We’re going to do one more mile after this le o;

one, then we’re going to walk across the street to the Bull’s Head. When we get there, you’re going to buy me a large Carlsberg draft, and when I’ve had about half of it you’re going to turn to me and you’re going to say, ‘So, Professor, what the fuck you talking about?’“

“That’s what’s going to happen next?”

“That’s it.”

“Huh,” Jello said. “Imagine that.”

The Bull’s Head was unusually quiet when we got there and Jello and I took a table in the back where there was no one else within earshot. After we had each drunk about half of our Carlsberg drafts in silence, Jello wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and leaned toward me.

“So, Professor” he said, “what the fuck you talking about?”

I took my time about it, but I told Jello more or less everything about my encounter with Plato Karsarkis in Phuket, including the dinner at his house. I even told Jello about the dangle from Karsarkis to do some work for one of his companies.

“Did you know Plato Karsarkis was in Phuket?” I asked when I had finished.

“I think I heard something like that.”

“So what are you guys going to do?”

“Do?” Jello sipped at his beer. “About what?”

“About Karsarkis.”

“Why should we do anything?”

“You’re not going to arrest him?” I asked.

“What for?”

“What for? To turn him over to the Americans, of course.”

“They haven’t asked us to do that.”

“Oh, come on. Karsarkis has got to be on the Interpol watch list.”

“Yeah, he is. There’s a red notice out.”

An Interpol red notice was a request to any country that found Karsarkis to detain him.

“Thailand isn’t going to pay any attention to it?”

Jello looked at me over the rim of his glass for a long moment, but he didn’t say anything.

“Oh, it’s like that,” I said.

Jello gave a little shrug with his eyebrows, but he stayed silent.

“What if the American Embassy files a formal request for Karsarkis’ arrest?”

“We don’t have to think about that until they do it.”

“How very Thai of you.”

“Thank you.”

Jello slugged down the last of his beer and waved to one of the waitresses. She came over and gave him a smile that would have melted the McMurdo Ice Shelf.

“One more?” she asked.

“Two more. One for me and…” he poked a thumb in my direction, “one for my dad.”

The girl suppressed a giggle and flashed him another thousand-watt smile before she moved away.

“How come you get the big-eye, goo-goo routine and she ignores me completely?” I asked Jello.

“Women radar stuff. They know whenThew come yo you’re already hooked up and aren’t available.”

“I’m willing to lie.”

“Wouldn’t do you any good,” he said. “They know.”

We sat in silence until the waitress had replaced our empty glasses with freshly drawn drafts, during the course of which I had to endure another round of her flirting with Jello and ignoring me.

When she had gone I cleared my throat and told Jello about meeting Marshal Clovis Ward. Then for good measure I described our night out together in Patong and repeated CW’s appeal for intelligence on Karsarkis’ security.

“You have a funny habit of ending right in the middle of all kinds of shit, don’t you, Professor?”

“It’s a talent.”

“That’s one way to look at it, I guess.”

“So…did you know the US Marshals were in Phuket?” I asked.

“Uh-huh.”

“And it doesn’t bother you they’re there without the embassy having filed an official request to detain Karsarkis?”

“What bothers me isn’t the point,” Jello said.

I shoved my beer glass around in a circle on the tabletop and it left a thin trail of water on the heavily lacquered wood. I reached out and traced the water with my forefinger.

“So what are you going to do?” I asked after a while. “Let the marshals kidnap Karsarkis and hustle him out of the country?”

“It’s not going to come to that.”

“Are you sure?” I asked.

“Look, Professor, whenever your guys think the time is right, I’m sure they’ll make a request for extradition to the prime minister.”

“If they do, what will the prime minister say?”

“No idea.”

“Right.”

“Really. I have absolutely no idea.”

I reached out and tapped my forefinger on the table in front of Jello. “You and I both know Karsarkis didn’t get where he is by being stupid,” I said.

Jello glanced at me, but his eyes bounced off without sticking. Still, there had been a flash of embarrassment there and I had caught it full on.

“Karsarkis isn’t just rolling the dice,” I said. “He wouldn’t be here if he weren’t absolutely certain he has the Thai government in his pocket.”

“Doesn’t really matter,” Jello said, without looking at me. “If your guys really want him, you’ll get him.”

“Watch that, would you? It’s the second time you’ve said it. They’re not my guys. I’m not in involved in any of this.”

“Then just keep it that way, Jack. There’s a lot going on here you don’t understand.”

“That’s what you always say.”

“That’s because it’s always true.”

“Maybe I know more than you think.”

“Doesn’t look that way to me.”

Jello was right, oo wnow morf course. I knew damned near nothing about the intrigues that were no doubt churning like a tornado around Plato Karsarkis’ presence in Thailand, which was exactly why I was sitting with Jello