Killing Rain by Eisler Barry

Author:Eisler, Barry [Eisler, Barry]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Penguin Group
Published: 2005-06-23T04:00:00+00:00

THIRTEEN

BACK IN BANGKOK, Dox and I checked into the Grand Hyatt Erawan on Ratchadamri. It wasn’t as discreet a hotel as the Sukhothai, but I’m not usually comfortable using the same place twice in a row. What it lacked in low-key charm, though, the Erawan made up for operationally: it offered multiple entrances and exits on two floors and a significant security infrastructure in the form of guards and cameras. Ordinarily, surveillance and security are a hindrance to me and I try to avoid them. But this time, I wanted to be someplace that would offer obstacles to anyone who might think to visit me unexpectedly. Not that anyone knew where I was, but I always sleep better with multiple layers in place. And if one of those layers takes the form of 300-thread count cotton sheets . . . well, there aren’t so many perks to this profession. I take them when I can.

There was nothing to do now but wait, and I let Dox talk me into another evening on the town. I had enjoyed our meal together a few nights before, enjoyed it much more than the usual solitary night in a hotel room, and he didn’t have too hard a time persuading me. This time, though, I got to choose the venue.

I headed down to the lobby to meet him at eight o’clock as we had agreed. He was early again, and again looked very much the local expat in an untucked, short-sleeved, cream-colored linen shirt and jeans. He seemed to be absorbed in a book. As I got closer I noticed the title: Beyond Good and Evil.

“You’re reading Nietzsche?” I asked, incredulous.

He looked at me. “Well, sure, why not?”

I struggled for a moment, concerned that whatever I said next would be insulting. “Well, it’s just . . .”

He smiled. “I know, I know, everybody thinks a southern boy can’t be intellectual. Well, my father worked for a big pharmaceutical company, and I grew up in Germany, where he was posted. I studied old Friedrich in school, and I liked him. All that stuff about the will to power and all. When I read it now, it comforts me.”

“Who’da thunk it,” I said, imitating his twang.

He laughed. “Hey, how did you even recognize what I was reading, cowboy? That’s more than I would have expected.”

I shrugged. “When I was a kid, I always seemed to be on the wrong side of one gang or another. I found the best place to hide was the library. They never thought to look for me there. Eventually I got bored and started reading the books. I never stopped.”

“Never stopped getting on the wrong side of gangs?”

I laughed. “It seems that way, doesn’t it. Never stopped reading, is what I meant.”

“So that’s where you get some of those big words you like to use. I found myself wondering from time to time. Plus you never seem put off by my own extensive vocabulary. Even a word like ‘perineum,’ it seems like second nature to you.

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