The Nineteen by Needham Jake

Author:Needham, Jake [Needham, Jake]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9786165860420
Amazon: B09P7CM792
Goodreads: 60167010
Publisher: Half Penny Lt (Hong Kong)
Published: 2022-05-05T07:00:00+00:00

TWENTY-FIVE

“Do you believe her?” Ryan asked.

We were on the sidewalk outside the Immigration Department looking for a taxi. Generally, a vast sea of empty taxis washes over Bangkok and it’s probably the easiest city in the world in which to find one. Not this afternoon. There wasn’t a single taxi in sight anywhere.

If I was inclined to think of quirks of fate like that as omens, I’m sure I would figure this to be a bad one. But I’m among the most rational of men, a graduate of Georgetown Law and a member of three state bar associations. How in the world could I possibly consider some random occurrence to be a message from the future?

By living in a place like Bangkok.

Here almost everybody believes in spirits and soothsaying and fortune tellers. In Bangkok, every event is an omen of something. Usually something not too good. I just hoped, maybe this once, the omen gods were only fucking with me.

“Which part of her story are you asking about?”

Ryan gave me a look. “The part where she claimed to have no idea how or where this guy died.”

“Yeah, mostly,” I said. “Remember, he wasn't a friend of hers, just some guy who worked in a section of the Immigration Department she’s responsible for supervising. One day somebody else in the department called her up and told her this fellow died. Since she didn’t really know him, she was more concerned about how she was going to replace him than about the details of what happened to him.”

Soi Suan Phlu is a narrow road lined with shophouses that were probably built before World War II when Bangkok was a sleepy place crisscrossed with canals instead of roads jammed with traffic. Most of them were run-down now, and they seemed to be sagging against each other for support. The sidewalk ran for a little way and then stopped and then started up again a house or two further along as if it couldn’t make up its mind whether it wanted to be seen in this neighborhood or not.

“I’m surprised she gave you a copy of the security video,” Ryan said.

“I always work to make friends, young man. It's how stuff gets done here.”

“I thought you were just flirting with her out of habit.”

“Flirting is never a habit. I take it very seriously.”

“Don’t you live with somebody?”

“Everybody lives with somebody.”

“Not me.”

“If you’re in Bangkok more than two weeks, I'm confident that will change.”

Just then a taxi pulled out of the driveway of the Immigration Department building and turned toward us. Ryan raised a hand and waved at the driver, but he kept on going without even slowing down.

“Never mind,” I said. “Poor bastard's probably had enough of white guys for today.”

“So what do we do now?”

“We probably ought to walk on up to Sathorn Road. We'll find a taxi there.”

“That's not what I meant. I was talking about this immigration guy turning up dead after walking those two men into the country without leaving any kind of record they’re here.

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