ran.’
‘And he wanted the fire exits locked?’
Marsh sighed. ‘We’d been having problems with people sneaking in through the back. One guy would pay to get in and he’d kick open a fire door and a dozen of his mates would pile in. I said we should just station security guards at the exits but he said we didn’t have a budget for that.’ Marsh shook his head. ‘Two hundred baht would get you a guard for the whole night. The price of one beer in the club. Cheap bastard.’
‘So he had the exits locked?’
‘Chains and padlocked. Did it himself and carried the keys. I screamed for him to come back and open the doors but he didn’t stop.’
‘They’re saying that it was fireworks that started the fire.’
‘Yeah. The idiot lead singer set them off halfway through his set.’
‘Didn’t anyone know what he was going to do?’
‘It was their first time in the club. I was there at the sound check during the day and there was no mention of fireworks then. I was near the entrance keeping an eye on things because we had a hundred or so kids trying to get in even though we were full. First I knew of it was when he takes a lighter out of his pocket and he lights these black things. Next thing I know there are white sparks everywhere and the crowd is cheering. Then the showers of sparks get bigger and then the ceiling catches fire and everyone starts screaming. That’s when Thongchai ran for it.’
‘How did you get burned? You said you were by the entrance.’
‘I was trying to get people out. The power went so all the lights went out. There was a surge to get out and people fell. I stayed as long as I could but…’
He closed his eyes.
‘You know what I don’t understand?’ he said.
‘What’s that?’
He opened his eyes. ‘When I did get out there were hundreds of people watching and most of them were holding up their cellphones, taking pictures and videoing. Why didn’t they help?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘Why were they standing there taking pictures of people dying? They could have helped but they didn’t.’
It wasn’t a question that I could answer.
I don’t thing anyone could.
It was the way of the world in the twenty-first century. People preferred to be observers rather than participants, and nothing was real unless it had appeared on YouTube.
‘They could have helped, but they didn’t. I helped and I got third degree burns and now they want to hang me out to dry. It’s not fair.’
He was right, of course. It wasn’t fair.
I held out the photograph again. ‘Ronnie, did you see this boy in the club that night?’
He squinted at the picture. ‘I don’t think so.’
‘You were at the door all night?’
‘That’s the thing, I wasn’t. I was moving around.’
‘So he could have gone in when you weren’t on the door?’
‘It’s possible.’
I sighed. ‘Well, it was worth a try.’
‘Who is he?’ asked Marsh.
‘Young American kid on his gap year. His parents are worried sick. They haven’t heard from him in a while and then they read about the fire.’
‘Close family?’
‘Mormons,’ I said.
‘I left home when I was sixteen and I don’t think my parents even noticed.’ He sighed. ‘I am in so much shit, Bob.’
‘It might not be as bad as you think.’
‘The lawyer said the prosecution were looking to put me away for life.’
‘I spoke to a Public Prosecutor yesterday and she said the investigation was ongoing.’
‘Maybe she doesn’t know what’s going on behind the scenes. The lawyer said that I was going to get the blame for the fire certificate not being up to date, for the locked exits and for the underage kids there. He said the best thing to do was to just admit everything and throw myself at the mercy of the court and that I’d probably only get ten years and that would get cut in half at some point.’
I nodded.
The bit about the sentence being cut was right. That’s how it worked in Thailand. On major holidays like the King’s birthday thousands of prisoners had their sentences reduced. It happened so often that a guy sentenced to thirty years for murder could easily be back home in five years. The only sentences that weren’t reduced were those of drug dealers.
‘Sounds to me like you need a lawyer, Ronnie. Someone with your best interests at heart.’
‘Do you think?’ he said, his voice loaded with sarcasm.
‘Do you know anyone?’
‘Never needed one before,’ he said.
‘I’ve got a friend who knows what he’s doing,’ I said. ‘I’ll get him to drop by.’
‘Thai?’
‘For this sort of thing, you need a Thai lawyer,’ I said. ‘And you need a good one.’
I stood up and both knees cracked. Marsh grinned. ‘You’re getting old, Bob.’
‘We all are,’ I said.
‘Can you see the remote?’
It was on a shelf next to his drip. I picked it up.
‘Put the sound up so I can hear it, will you?’ I boosted the volume and he thanked me. ‘You could try talking to Lek and Tam. They might have seen your boy.’
‘They were on the door?’
‘Yeah. They’re kickboxers, they train at the gym in Washington Square most days. You’d better say you’re a friend of mine or they’ll not talk to you.’
‘Thanks, Ronnie.’
‘No sweat. Just don’t forget that lawyer.’
CHAPTER 8
There were half a dozen girls giggling at the reception desk when I got out of the elevator on the second floor. I was there for a battery of tests as part of a yearly health check. The sort of annual service that would cost you several grand back in the States and costs a couple of hundred at the Bumrungrad, and you’re waited on hand and foot every step of the way. A nurse who looked sixteen smile coyly and took me to a seat where a girl who could have been her twin took a blood sample that I swear to God caused me not one iota of discomfort. I don’t know if they used extra sharp needles or if the sight of two beautiful creatures in nurse’s uniforms dulled the pain, but I felt nothing.
I was taken to a waiting area where after five minutes another nurse apologised for the delay and gave me a coupon for a free cup of coffee or a portion of French fries. Two minutes later I was in to see the doctor who would be overseeing the tests.
Doctor Duangtip.
There was a battery of framed certificates on the wall behind him. Bangkok. London. San Francisco. You could buy similar certificates in any print shop in the Khao San Road, but his were the real thing. I’d been coming to see Doctor Duangtip every year for the past four years, so I knew the drill. A physical, blood tests, a cardiac test that had me running on a treadmill with electrodes strapped to my upper body, a chest X-ray and a lower abdomen
