“Kaeochart was a clean hit.”
The slim man interrupted combing his hair to stare at the big man, finished combing it and then walked to the door and opened it. “I don’t know about you, but I’m getting the hell out of here.” He exited into the hallway and left the door open.
The big man listened to the sound of the slim man’s receding footsteps. He glanced again at the painting and then pushed his large frame up and out of the chair. He picked up his gun case, walked to the door and paused in the doorway to look back into the room. He spoke aloud but to no one. “I just wish somebody had done that for me.”
He exited the room and closed the door behind him.
Dean Barrett
Dean Barrett is the author of several novels set in Asia
His recent books are
Barrett’s plays have been performed in nine countries and his musical,
The Sword
Vasit Dejkunjorn
From the glass window Yuddha could see the blue BMW Series 5, parked in the roofed parking lot in front of his office. Yuddha was aware of his colleagues’ concealed suspicion. But he ignored it. After all, he was not the only police superintendent—full colonel—who owned an expensive European-made car. Another superintendent, his classmate from the Police Officer Academy, had bought a Mercedes. Yet another colonel owned a Lexus, Japanese-made but equally priced. To own and drive an expensive car is a dream of every police officer. Yuddha guessed that the other cars had been obtained by means not much different from his.
It had begun soon after his graduation from the Academy. He had been assigned to a police station in Bangkok. His responsibility was to interrogate suspects brought in by arresting officers and to submit interrogation reports to the superintendent, with recommendations that the suspects be charged or else released for insufficient evidence.
Yuddha learned quickly that his recommendation might change the suspect’s fate. With a few clicks of his notebook mouse, the suspect might be freed—or start his rough journey to the penitentiary. He learned too that every suspect was willing to pay for his freedom. Yuddha was no longer surprised when approached by some of his superiors who suggested, often with straight faces, that he fact-twist for the benefit of the superiors’ relatives or friends. At first he felt awkward and ashamed, but finally he gave in and jumped on the bandwagon.
Yuddha’s popularity-cum-notoriety grew steadily, proportionate to his wealth. He was recognized by superior officers, envied by colleagues and quietly feared by both the innocent and the crooks. To superior officers, Yuddha was always generous. He managed to appear, though uninvited, with appropriate, expensive gifts at police generals’ birthdays, New Year parties or wedding anniversaries. If there was a donation involved, his amount was always among the highest.
So when Yuddha’s name was submitted to the selection board, with long, elaborate, praising explanation by his commissioner, none of the board members objected or questioned the submission. At forty-two Yuddha became one the youngest police colonels and superintendents on the force. In the seniority list there had been over 100 names above his.
Yuddha progressed with his lucrative police work. He did not forget that criminal investigation and interrogation alone were not sufficient for his fame. To be hailed as a police idol, he would have to show that he was skilled too in crime suppression. The young superintendent consequently turned to the easiest prey: the petty thieves. His arrest records were impressively long. When an armed robber resisted arrest, Yuddha did not waste time negotiating. The robber was gunned down in a brief firefight. With the extrajudicial killing, Yuddha joined the prestigious class of police exterminators.
Yuddha’s trail of thought was interrupted by a middle-aged warrant officer’s entry. The noncommissioned officer did not stop to salute him but casually sat himself on a chair and said unceremoniously, “Sia Preeda has returned and wants to see you.” The article “Sia” is a Chinese word, indicating the man’s origin and his status in business. Yuddha had been expecting the return of the Sia. He nodded his head in acknowledgement. The warrant officer too knew the reason for the superintendent’s expectation. Expressionlessly, he rose and left the room.
While waiting, Yuddha recalled the incident that had led to the confrontation between him and Sia Preeda. The businessman had been involved in a car accident that resulted in the death of a motorcyclist. Such accidents are routine in Bangkok and no longer reported by the media. According to the crime scene investigator, the speeding motorcycle had crashed into Sia Preeda’s Mercedes. The businessman’s expensive car was heavily dented. The fault was obviously the dead motorcyclist’s. But technically, according to the Criminal Code, the driver of the Mercedes was to be arrested and charged for careless driving causing death.
Sia Preeda had accompanied his driver to the police station and requested bail for the unfortunate chauffeur. It was Friday afternoon. Unless the bail was quickly granted, the driver might have to spend the weekend in the police detention cell. The superintendent has the power to approve or deny bail. In this case the investigating officer had recommended that bail be granted.
For experienced but dishonest police officers, this was an ideal opportunity to make easy money. Yuddha flipped the pages of the investigator’s report, feigning reading. A few pages afterward, he looked up and told the businessman, “Looks like your driver was going a little fast.”
“Fast?” Sia Preeda and his driver were obviously shocked. “We were approaching a very busy intersection. The traffic was—”
“I am aware of the traffic condition.” The superintendent’s voice was raised and ice-cold. “It was congested, yes, but you were going beyond the speed limit, as the skid marks show. Incidentally, who was actually driving the car at the time of the accident?”
“Who?” Sia Preeda repeated the word in disbelief.
“What do you mean, who?”
“I was driving, sir,” the driver offered meekly.
“That remains to be seen,” the Colonel’s voice was offish. “In the meantime I am afraid we may have to hold both of you for additional questioning.”
“This is ridiculous!” the businessman nearly screamed. “I am going to call my lawyer.”
“After you have been charged,” the superintendent said in a toneless voice, “you may call anyone you like. But we have to seize your phone too. It’s an important piece of evidence.”
While Sia Preeda was speechlessly trying to control his temper, the young colonel pushed a button on his desk. The warrant officer entered the room, approached the desk and waited for the stern order.
“Book these two men as suspects in the accident case.”
