Death in the Kingdom (16 page)

I moved to the front of the Cherokee and stood appraising the situation. Choy's head drooped on his chest and I could see blood glistening on his shirt. He needed more work. I opened the passenger door again and rearranged his jacket to cover the blood. I wiped the trickle off the corner of his mouth with my thumb, and closed his blank stare. I needed to keep his head back in a more lifelike position. If I'd had superglue with me, I would have glued the back of his shaved head to the headrest. I didn't have any of that magic solution, but I did find an alternative in the elaborate first-aid kit that lived under the driver's seat.

The roll of tape was flesh-coloured. I put a band around Choy's neck under his chin and fixed it to the headrest behind his head. When I arranged his shirt collar, the tape vanished under both it and the thick folds of skin on his neck. The head still leaned forward slightly, but it gave the impression of someone dozing, not of a corpse. I found his sunglasses in his breast pocket and put them on him. That would do. As an afterthought I removed his wallet from inside his jacket. It was thick with both dollars and baht. I took the cash and put the wallet back. It wasn't simple thievery. Until I got back to my stash in the safe at the embassy annex, I figured I might need a lot more cold hard cash than I had on me. I got back in the vehicle and handed the driver the keys. ‘Do as I say and you live. Otherwise you know what happens. To Phetchaburi. Okay?'

‘Okay,' he replied. I noticed that the crotch of his jeans was stained dark. The acrid smell of urine mingled with that of gunpowder and blood. I had the guy turn up the air-con.

15

Tuk Tuk would come out to the Jeep. I knew that. Normally he would sit and wait for the world to come to him, escorted by Choy. Not this time, however. Not when Choy was coming to deliver his sainthood to him. This was mountain and Mohammed time. The buddha was definitely the mountain and it was truly immovable.

I made the driver pull off the highway just south of Phetchaburi. We found a place with more shadows than light. It seemed the guy thought he was going to die. When I explained what was going to happen next, the relief on his face was plain to see. We waited there for half an hour. I wanted Tuk Tuk to become anxious. He and Choy had an ETA of about 24:00.I was going to arrive at 00:15 precisely. That meant I had twenty minutes to show time.

I removed the mobile phone from my jacket, powered it up and called Bernard. On the third ring, he answered. I pressed the scramble button.

‘I have the box.'

‘The box!' The old arsehole sounded stunned. There was something akin to disbelief in his voice. ‘Daniel?' he asked.

‘Of course it's me. Who else? You sent me to get this damned box. I've got it.'

‘Where are you?'

‘Just south of Phetchaburi. I may be some time getting to the embassy. I have a couple of errands to run first. I'll call when they are complete.' I was starting to hang up when he stopped me.

‘Leave your phone on. It may be necessary for a change of plans,' he said. ‘It's important. Well done,' he added as an afterthought. ‘Did you have any problems?'

‘Yeah. Tell you about that later,' I replied and killed the call. I didn't tell him about the CIA ambush because right at that moment it was history and could wait.

I dropped the mobile back into my pocket, lit a cigarette and leaned back in my seat. ‘Smoke if you want to,' I told the driver. He stuttered his thanks, lit up and there we sat, smoking like two old buddies. All we needed was a pint and a packet of crisps to complete the party atmosphere.

Something was nagging me about the call I'd just made. Sir Bernard fucking Sinclair hadn't exactly sounded thrilled that I had collected the most important prize in the world for him, whatever that was. Eventually I pushed the thought away. I had other things to do. It was time. I got out of the rear of the Jeep, tossing my cigarette butt away as I closed the door. I quickly opened the front passenger door before my little driver buddy got any ideas. It was time to get the show on the road.

I pushed Choy's seat as far back on its rails as it would go and tilted the backrest to give the illusion that he was just relaxing. It was a fucking squeeze, but I thanked the gods that the Yanks build big cars for big people. I managed to curl myself up, half on the bottom of the foot well and half jammed between Choy's legs and the passenger door. In the dim light I was invisible, as long as Choy remained the centre of whatever attention was directed at the Jeep. I had the gun in my left hand aimed at my chauffeur's groin. He knew he was dead if he screwed up.

I figured we would have to beat a cursory video scan and the gatehouse man.

I'd been with Choy in happier times when he'd go through the main gate. The gate men never used to leave their cubbyhole. One look at The Cabbage was enough. No one who knew Choy got in his face. That fact, coupled with the angle of the gatehouse window and the distance to the side of the car, meant that, technically, the guard wouldn't see me. As for the cameras, I was praying that no one would be looking at them but focusing instead on the live show. To hell with what the video showed later.

‘When you enter the second gate, sound the horn. Three short blasts,' I instructed the driver. ‘Drive to the bottom of the steps. You stay in the car when we stop.'

‘Okay,' he replied. ‘We are coming to the first gate.'

I glanced at my watch. 00:14. Perfect!

The Jeep rocked heavily on its suspension as it turned off the street and approached the outer gate. Obviously the goon in the guardhouse had been given his instructions by Tuk Tuk: to expect and expedite our immediate arrival. The cameras picked up the Cherokee the moment it turned into the approach to the palace. The outer gate was open when we reached it. I was picturing us crossing the moat when the Jeep slowed momentarily but didn't stop. The second gate opened. Choy's beautiful mug had done the trick.

Our tyres crunched on pebbles and my driver honked the horn three times as he brought us to a halt. My next trick was to get out of the car as fast as I could. It would be a case of opening the door and kicking myself out backwards onto the driveway. ‘Tell me when Tuk Tuk is out of the house,' I whispered to the driver, who sat frozen in his seat. ‘Turn off the engine and the headlights and give me the keys.'

He did as I said and sat there stone-faced, the lights from the garden and the palace reflecting white off his face.

‘He's coming with the woman.'

‘Anyone else?' I was counting on Tuk Tuk being alone. I didn't really want to kill him in front of Sakura.

‘No one!'

‘Don't move,' I whispered as I reached behind my right shoulder for the door release. I popped it and twisted myself around Choy's left leg, pushing my heels against the transmission hump to give me leverage. I leaned into the door and kicked off. My shoulders hit the shingle and I rolled completely over, landing on my knees beyond the Cherokee's wide door. My gun was locked in a two-handed grip. Tuk Tuk was ten feet away coming directly towards me, Sakura on his right side holding his right forearm while one of his ebony sticks supported him on his left.

Tuk Tuk stopped. Sakura, probably not realising what the hell was happening, stepped beyond him. I came to my feet quickly. I doubted there were any guards in the compound or snipers on the roof, but I didn't want to take a chance. I covered the ground between Tuk Tuk and myself in three paces.

‘Daniel, what is …?' Sakura gasped as I brushed past her.

‘Tuk Tuk will tell you,' I said as I kicked the old man's stick away and jammed the muzzle of my automatic under his chin. ‘Tell her you stupid, greedy old man,' I said in Cantonese. Tuk Tuk's double whammy of surprise caused him to sag at the knees. I caught him by his left lapel and held him up. ‘Yes,' I said, reverting to English. ‘All along, Tuk Tuk, I had a microphone hidden. You and that stupid fuck, Choy, just couldn't let it go could you!'

‘Choy!' Sakura was standing at the open Jeep door, hand to her beautiful mouth. Tuk Tuk knew then that Choy was no more. His eyes went out of focus for a moment, then they hardened again. He was too slow. I knew all about the knife that he carried in the spring sheath in his right sleeve. As the mechanism delivered the blade into his hand, I caught his wrist and twisted. The blade made an almost musical sound as it hit the stones. ‘Daniel, what is happening? Please!' Sakura was coming back towards us, a white angel in the light. I looked beyond her. The driver of the Cherokee sat frozen like the corpse beside him.

‘Tuk Tuk gave the order for Choy to kill me. I killed him first. Now I will kill Tuk Tuk,' I replied. I turned back to the object of my rage. ‘I came here to offer you something more valuable than gold or my pitiful fucking death, but you just couldn't let it go.' I switched to Cantonese because it was appropriate, perhaps, for my next choice of words. ‘Like the scorpion, Tuk Tuk, you sting because you can't not sting. It is your nature and nothing can change that but my own sting.' I pushed the muzzle of the gun deeper into his throat.

‘Please don't, Daniel!' Sakura had come to us. She, too, was speaking Cantonese. Both of her hands were on my left forearm. ‘Please no, Daniel.'

Tuk Tuk remained silent. He was now looking as he had when I had told him the truth behind Arune's death. Tuk Tuk Song was an old man. Yes, a vicious old man to be sure. He didn't beg or make any excuses. We were far beyond that. But now his eyes had lost their steel. He was sagging against my grip. I let him sink slowly to the pebbles. I could have dropped him. Instead, I lowered him almost gently to the ground. However the muzzle of my gun stayed at his temple. I didn't trust him an inch.

‘He's dying, Daniel.' Sakura was speaking softly. She had reverted back to English. Her eyes were huge, either from desperation or fear. ‘Prostate cancer. It has spread. He has perhaps a year, no more.'

‘He ordered my death,' I replied. ‘I saved his life twice, once from his own son, and he rewards me by ordering my death. How can you have any compassion for this man?'

‘Because he is my husband,' she said softly. ‘We have been married for ten years, Daniel.' I was speechless. I had never heard a whisper, never even suspected they were married. I looked into those beautiful big eyes and could see no lies there.

‘Who knew?' I asked.

‘No one but Choy.' It was Tuk Tuk who spoke. ‘It was to protect Sakura. She had been my mistress for five years before my second wife, Arune's mother, died. When we married we kept it secret.'

‘I love him, Daniel. I beg you not to kill him.' Despite the use of the word, Sakura wasn't begging—she was asking a friend for a favour.

‘While he lives, I can never come back here,' I replied. ‘This old scorpion only knows one way. I gave him the opportunity for eternal redemption, or as close to it as he could ever come, and he rejected it.'

‘Daniel. Yes, I made yet one more mistake, but with Choy's death it is over,' Tuk Tuk said, his voice that of a tired, sad old man. ‘Yes, you offered and I failed. I let myself be swayed by my blood and my oldest friend. On the life of the woman I love, I promise you that you have my word it is over.'

‘My life, Daniel,' Sakura said, a desperate edge to her voice. ‘My life. You have no idea how much this man loves me. He would never risk my love or my life.'

‘That much?' I said, staring down at Tuk Tuk in something approaching amazement.

‘Yes, Daniel. That much! It is over,' Tuk Tuk said staring up at me, his eyes wet not through fear but through something else. Looking down at this old sick man sitting on the stones at my feet, I almost believed his words. ‘I am too old and sick to fight any more. I want my last days to be with the woman I love,' he added.

Sakura sank to her knees on the pebbles beside her husband, her arms around his neck, her eyes reaching out to me. ‘Daniel, if you kill him, please kill me as well,' she said simply. And there it was. I stood staring down at the pair of them. Later I would wonder how it could be. This thug of a man and the most gentle and beautiful woman I had ever met. Husband and wife? This was the marriage of the scorpion and the butterfly. If I killed him I killed her, and that was something I could never do.

I removed the gun from Tuk Tuk's temple and stood, letting it weigh my hand and drag my arm down to my side. ‘I am taking the buddha back to where it belongs,' I said. ‘No matter what, you don't deserve to die with its glory added to your name.' I walked over to the Jeep and opened the driver's door, waving the man out. ‘Other side. Get Choy out.' I leaned against the truck's bonnet while the driver went around to do as I had said. Sakura and Tuk Tuk stayed where they were, side by side on the white pebbles, she kneeling and he sitting.

A door opened in the inner wall—the change of guard perhaps. The man was dressed in a blue uniform and wearing a sidearm. He paused and stood looking towards the tableaux we had created in the courtyard. ‘Tell him everything is as it should be,' I instructed Tuk Tuk.

‘Go about your duty,' Tuk Tuk ordered. ‘Do not sound the alarm.' Without a word the guard moved on and passed through another door.

Choy lay on his back on the white pebbles. The driver stood beside him, staring down, possibly wondering just how small the scourge of the underworld looked in death. I went to where Tuk Tuk's ebony walking stick lay. The snake-head grip was made of tooled silver and gold with ruby eyes. I examined it and gave the handle a twist. The ebony shaft pulled away to reveal a long double blade that was razor sharp. I closed it and handed it to the old man. He took it.

‘Sakura, I want you to ride with me to the outer gate,' I said as I holstered my gun and reached down to draw her to her feet. She came upright so gracefully, weighing nothing at all, or so it seemed. I stood there holding her hand and looking down at Tuk Tuk Song. ‘On the life of the woman you love, Tuk Tuk,' I said softly. ‘Because if I have to come back, I will kill Sakura in front of your eyes.'