Blood Rubies by Mailan Doquang

Author:Mailan Doquang
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penzler Publishers
Published: 2024-07-15T00:00:00+00:00

27

Central Bangkok

The tuk-tuk driver Rune flagged down simply smiled when she pointed at Father Bergdahl’s disappearing taillights and demanded that he follow. She knew the drill. He wanted to haggle. She forced a smile of her own and thrust a five-hundred-baht note at him, hoping to close the deal. He didn’t move. Social mores dictated they go back and forth a few more times, but in that moment, Rune cared not at all about etiquette. She shoved another five hundred baht into his hand and barked, “Pai! Pai!” Go, go!

The tuk-tuk took off like a spring unloading, raising a cloud of dust in the process. The wind lashed at Rune’s face when she stuck her head out the side, peering through the darkness in an effort to locate the priest. It was just bad luck that he drove a black sedan identical to thousands of others trawling the capital.

“There!” she yelled, pointing down a side street to their right. The tuk-tuk took a sharp turn, sending her sliding across the leather seat. She anchored herself against the side and gave the driver an encouraging, “Reo reo!” Faster!

They caught up to the sedan just as it was taking the ramp to the expressway heading north. The tuk-tuk driver hung back. It clearly wasn’t the first time he had tailed someone. Rune settled in for the ride.

Father Bergdahl signaled his exit around ten minutes later. The tuk-tuk driver followed suit, continuing west until Rune saw signs for the Victory Monument traffic circle, one of Bangkok’s most famous landmarks. The towering obelisk at the center of the roundabout soon appeared in her sightline. The sedan circled it and took the second exit onto Ratchawithi Road. The tuk-tuk stayed close behind, speeding past a series of hospitals, pharmacies, and medical supply stores.

The neighborhood changed the moment they passed the Research Unit for Tropical Diseases of Mahidol University. Gone were the ultramodern healthcare buildings. Now they were in the posh Dusit District, home to Dusit Palace, a royal complex with residences and gardens covering an area larger than twelve football fields. Dusit was Bangkok’s political nerve center. The official residence of the Thai monarch was there, as well as the National Assembly and the Government House, where the Prime Minister of Thailand and his cabinet ministers kept their offices. The political A-listers who called Dusit home enjoyed an architecture that was distinctly European, as well as squeaky-clean streets that were entirely free of food stalls and vendors, in contrast to the rest of the city. Rune wondered what business a priest who ministered in a slum might have in one of Bangkok’s most exclusive neighborhoods.

They flew past the royal compound, made a few turns, and slowed when they reached a dead-end street boasting extra-large houses on well-kept lots. The sedan’s taillights disappeared. The tuk-tuk pulled to a stop. The driver turned around, looking to Rune for direction. She drew her hands together and lowered her head. “Khawp khun kha,” she said hastily before placing another five hundred baht in his hands.

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