“Did anyone see these men leave Phuket?” Kulawnit asked.
“Not that we’ve found so far,” Preithat replied. “We know a helicopter arrived at the Phuket heliport late last night, and a private jet took off shortly thereafter. It seems likely they would be connected. We’re talking with the night shift personnel at the airport and examining their records now.”
“Assuming it’s an American plane, if you can get me the registration number, I’ll try to track it down from our end,” Bulatt said.
Preithat made a quick note in his field notebook.
“We also understand that the three guides often chartered a local helicopter and pilot, and two local workmen to assist in their hunts. The helicopter is missing and we’re trying to locate the workmen and the pilot now. And we have some information that the guides owned an expensive fishing yacht — the Avatar — which they moored at Phuket Harbor. The Avatar is no longer at the harbor, and no one seems to know its whereabouts. We’re looking for the harbor master now.”
“Major Preithat, you seem to be looking for a large number of people related to this incident,” Bulatt said hesitantly. “I don’t mean to sound critical. It just seems… unusual that so many significant people would suddenly be so difficult for the Thai police to find. Conspiracies can be large, of course, but — ”
“It is very unusual, and puzzling,” Preithat agreed. “It’s understandable that the people involved would try to disappear if they knew we’d found Lieutenant Kulawnit and his team; but we have that information tightly controlled.”
“What about your informant?”
“There are two who have been providing us information. One is a corrupt businessman named Yak who works out of Surat Thani. What you would call ‘organized crime’ in your country, only in Thailand they are not so much organized as competitive. When pressed, he grudgingly provides information, but mostly about his competitors. The other is a Malaysian pirate named Kai. We have reason to believe that these informants may be conspiring to control the illegal guiding business in southern Thailand.”
“By control, you mean putting themselves in direct competition — and presumably in conflict — with these Australian or British guides?”
“Yes, but I should add a working alliance between these two informants is highly unlikely,” Preithat said. “These are extremely devious, daring and dangerous adversaries. I’m sure they’re both planning on cutting the other out of the business once they’ve eliminated their competition.”
“But do you really think either of them would be devious and daring enough to arrange for the death of Lieutenant Kulawnit?” Bulatt asked.
“No, I don’t,” Preithat said after a moment, “I cannot believe either of them would be so stupid.” His eyes flickered briefly to Colonel Kulawnit, who remained stone-faced and silent. “They’d know the consequences would be severe, and impossible to escape.”
“So Captain Choonhavan is probably your best lead?” Bulatt suggested.
“Yes,” Preithat agreed. “And when we find him, I’m certain he’ll be anxious to tell us everything he knows about these foreign guides.” Preithat turned to stare out the windshield at the isolated facility they were rapidly approaching. “Very anxious, indeed.”
The Police Morgue, Phuket, Thailand
The familiar heavy odors of death and decay hit Bulatt the moment he followed Colonel Kulawnit and Major Preithat in through the double-doors of the police morgue.
Kulawnit’s two bodyguards — both hardened investigators — took positions inside the doorway with their M4 carbines at the ready, apparently unaffected by the familiar sights and odors. The room was air-conditioned; but the straining chillers and air-handlers were no match for the effects of Thai heat, humidity and insects on human corpses.
Bulatt had spent five years as a police homicide detective in southern California before joining the federal government, so he wasn’t jarred by the sight of four blood- and mud-stained Forestry Division Ranger uniforms lying on the morgue floor — on lengths of white butcher paper — next to three morgue carts bearing bodies draped with white sheets. A fourth body, naked and partially dissected out, lay on the nearest of the three autopsy tables in the room.
“They were found in their jeep, by the ocean near Khuraburi, yesterday morning,” Major Preithat said as he motioned for the pathologist to pull back the first sheet.
Colonel Kulawnit’s only reaction as the sight of his son’s partially-decomposed corpse was to walk over to the front end of cart and stand there, staring down with his hands clenched behind his back.
The pathologist hesitated, glanced questioningly at the Major, received a curt nod, and began his presentation.
“As you can see, Lieutenant Kulawnit was struck in the right side of his head by two bullets. His wounds are similar to those of Sergeant Tongproh and the other two Rangers. All head shots, no other wounds on the bodies. If it is of any consolation, Colonel,” the white-coated pathologist added, turning to face the grim-faced Kulawnit, “death appears to have been instantaneous for all four men.”
As the pathologist continued to recite his initial findings, Bulatt knelt down beside the blood- and mud-stained uniforms, closely examined the four uniform shirts, and then stood up and walked over to the stainless steel table where Sergeant Tongproh’s body was in the final stages of the autopsy process.
He nodded silently to the white-coated technician standing guard beside the table, and then bent forward to examine the entry wounds through the left side of Tongproh’s exposed and empty lower skull. The upper half of the sergeant’s skull and his brain were lying in a tray hovering over his dissected-out chest cavity. Next to the skull top was a small stainless steel bowl containing two partially-mushroomed bullets lying in a bloodied wad of gauze.
“Do you see something of interest, Khun Ged?” Colonel Kulawnit asked quietly as he walked up beside Bulatt.
For reasons that were completely beyond Bulatt’s comprehension, the Colonel now seemed calm, almost at peace with himself. But beneath that calm exterior, Bulatt sensed a vengeful presence waiting patiently to be released.
“The uniform shirts belonging to the sergeant, the corporal and the constable,” Bulatt replied, still staring at the pair of bullets in the bowl. “The blood-splatter patterns suggest all three men had their heads turned sharply to the left when they were shot from the left side. It also appears that your son’s head was turned sharply to his left when he was shot from the right side.” Bulatt hesitated. “Do we know if any of them managed to fire a shot of their own?”
Colonel Kulawnit and Bulatt both turned to look at Major Preithat who had joined them beside Sergeant Tongproh’s body.
“It appears not,” Preithat said. “All of their pistols and rifles were found fully loaded, as were all of their extra magazines and ammo pouches.”
“Was there anything about their jeep that tells you something about the direction of the fired shots?” Bulatt asked.
“Not that I’m aware of.” Preithat shook his head. “The jeep appears untouched by gunfire, externally and internally. There were some blood spatterings on the left front and rear seats, and perhaps some on the right passenger seat, but that’s all. Our crime scene team is now examining the jeep and searching the area where it was found. I will take you there, once we are finished here.”
“Would Lieutenant Kulawnit have been sitting in the front passenger seat?” Bulatt asked.
“Yes, that would be normal procedure. And Sergeant Tongproh would have been driving.”
“So Lieutenant Kulawnit could have been standing outside the jeep, on the right side, and the others could have been standing outside the jeep on the left side, or perhaps behind the jeep, when the shooting occurred?”
“Yes, that could be consistent with our procedures; especially if they were confronting someone,” Preithat said.
“And could have been surprised by a second person — someone they didn’t know was there?”
Preithat nodded silently, the expression on his face slowly shifting from controlled rage to thoughtfulness. Finally, he said: “I have known Sergeant Tongproh for many years. He was a very professional police officer, and very careful in the field; easily my best non-commissioned officer. I still find it difficult to believe that anyone could
