The Thai Amulet (22 page)

“Where will I begin?” David said. “He gets mixed reviews. He’s smart, can be very charming, obviously good at business—he’s rich. He’s a poor boy from the boonies, in this case Chiang Mai, who has made good. For a guy who started out with a couple of rice barges, he’s built quite a transportation empire. He ships all over the world. Companies line up to do business with him. He is rich, but he isn’t part of the upper crust, if you understand me. He probably lacks a little finesse, that’s all.”

“He wants his daughter to marry Chat,” I said.

“That would take care of the social standing, wouldn’t it? That’s unlikely I think. Isn’t Chat sweet on Jennifer still, or again, whichever it is? They’d just had a fight when I met her.”

“They’re back together, and yes, he is sweet on her. But you said Khun Wichai gets mixed reviews. Is just his social standing on the downside? Chat seemed a little nervous about him, or at least about doing business with him.”

“There are rumors,” he said. “Nothing substantiated. In a word, drugs.”

“He uses them, or he ships them?”

“Maybe both. I repeat there is absolutely no proof. When any of his ships are searched, they’re clean as a whistle. The authorities do search boats at sea and find them loaded with drugs—there was one a couple of years ago, boarded in the Andaman Sea between Thailand and Myanmar, Burma, just loaded with the stuff. Heroin and crystal meth. You might know that as ice. Millions of tablets and bags of the other stuff. But are these boats ever linked in any way to Wichai? Absolutely not. He sits up there in Chiang Mai looking much like a warlord, with his cadre of followers who are intensely loyal. But there’s nothing anyone can prove against him.”

“Anything else?”

“There’s a sense that his opposition tends to disappear.”

“Disappear?”

“As in disappear like our friend Will Beauchamp. They’re never heard from again.”

Chapter 10

Indeed the young king had every reason to be out of sorts, and not just with me. Lady Si Sudachan, now the mother of a daughter by Khun Worawongsa, went to her chief ministers and suggested that, given Yot Fa had still not reached the age of the cutting of the topknot, that is thirteen years, and because he was, according to his mother, although I would not agree, still uninterested in affairs of state, the enemies of Ayutthaya might try to turn this state of affairs to their advantage. The solution, she said, was that the ministers should invite Khun Worawongsa to administer the kingdom until Yot Fa was of age.

The chief ministers, some, no doubt thoroughly intimidated, others under the lady’s spell, agreed, and to the sound of trumpets, Khun Worawongsa was escorted into the inner palace on the royal palanquin and proclaimed king with great ceremony.

From this moment on, the affairs of the kingdom altered drastically. Worawongsa’s brother was appointed
uparat,
or heir apparent and viceroy, and the governors of all our northern provinces were recalled to Ayutthaya and then dismissed, men loyal to the queen regent and Khun Worawongsa appointed in their places. But that was not the end of it.

Next, the queen regent and the usurper, Khun Worawongsa, determined that Yot Fa should spend some time in a monastery, something that many young men did, and it was arranged that he go to the Khbk Phraya Monastery.

It is customary, before a young man enters the monastery, for a great celebration to be held, and on the evening before he was to go, Yot Fa commanded a performance of a masked dance. All the court was invited to the event, including me.

It was a most spectacular occasion. The middle court was lit with hundreds of torches as we arrived, and great delicacies were served before the performance. The royal party ate as usual from bowls of delicate celadon porcelain, because, as it is well known, celadon will crack if it is touched by poison.

Soon the dance began. It was a most edifying production, telling the story of how Phra Ram and his brother Phra Lak, supported by an army of monkeys led by Hanuman, fought Thosokanth and his demon army.

All the roles in the drama are performed by men, even the female roles, such strenuous activity being, of course, too much for women. The costumes of the dancers, brocade encrusted with stones, glittered in the torchlight. The masks of the demons were truly terrifying, and the battles between good and evil most ably performed.

What made the evening most wonderful for me, though, was the presence of my beloved beside me. We had found a place toward the back of the crowd where we could see everything but not be overlooked by anyone. Her hand rested lightly on mine when we were certain no one was watching us.

At the point in the drama where the evil Tosokanth appears, I noticed a court official approach Khun Worawongsa. That in itself would not necessarily be unusual, but there was something about the way they both looked about them, as if to ensure no one was looking, that intrigued me. As I strained to see, Worawongsa took something from under his garment, a vial, I think, and handed it to the man, who then slipped into the crowd and away.

I was puzzled, but turned back to the performance. As I did so, I saw the queen regent watching me. I was terrified by her glance. I knew I had seen something I was not supposed to, even if I didn’t understand it. But then I saw my sweet love’s smile, and in a moment I forgot.

“There seems to be a little tension in the air,” I said to Jennifer, as we stood in the lobby of the National Theater, waiting for the doors to open for the performance. “Between Chat and Yutai, I mean.” Around us the rest of the Chai-wong family was holding court. A number of dignitaries had come to pay their respects, and there was much
wei-ing
on everybody’s part. Chat was doing his best to help his mother with the hosting, even though it was clear he wasn’t in his element. He was a shy man, like his half brother more at home in the academic world, but he took his family responsibilities seriously. From time to time he’d look to see where Jennifer was, and a smile would light up his face when he found her in the crowd.

“I’m afraid so,” Jennifer said. “Between Chat and his mother, too. Chat went and had a long conversation with her about the business. He wasn’t too happy about her bringing Khun Wichai into it without telling anybody, and I gather, given what you’ve learned from David, he’s right. She has responded by telling Chat that she understands that he doesn’t really want to be involved, and she has therefore appointed Yutai as chief operating officer. To top it off, Yutai’s brother, Eakrit, has been brought in as chief financial officer. Chat is to remain as president, but really, the day-to-day will now be taken care of by Yutai and his brother. Poor Chat.” She sighed. “He really doesn’t want to run the business, but I think he is completely disconcerted by this latest move of his mother’s. And Yutai! He is just reveling in it. He even bosses Chat around. Personally, I think we should just leave them to it and get on with our trip, and then live in the States or Canada. If we get married—”

“Has he asked you?”

“He has. I said yes, too. Don’t tell Dad if you’re talking to him, will you. Chat wants to formally ask for my hand in marriage, can you believe it? He’s bought me the most astonishingly beautiful ring. I can’t wear it right now, of course, not until it’s official, but I’ll show you later. Anyway, when we get married, Chat can certainly stay in Canada.”

“I’m really happy for you,” I said. “If you’re sure this is what you want.”

“I’m sure,” she said. “I really love him, Aunt Lara. This trip together was to see if we were meant to be together, and given all that’s happened, I think we must be. I know it will work for any number of reasons, not the least of which is that he has become my best friend.”

“One more question,” I said. I felt a lump in my throat. “Has he told his family?”

“He’s going to tell them tonight. Wish both of us luck. Now here we go. I think they’re opening the doors.”

I turned to look for the others. As I did so, I had a blinding flash of insight that left me stunned. Standing over to one side were Wongvipa and with her, Fatty. As I watched them, Yutai came over to speak to Wongvipa, and for a moment the three of them stood together in front of a portrait of Thaksin that had been placed on the wall of the lobby for the occasion. I suddenly knew that I was looking at a family. But it was not Thaksin’s. It was Yutai’s. Little Fatty had the same cheekbones and slightly flattened nose as Yutai, and bore no resemblance that I could see to the man in the portrait behind them. I would stake my life on it: Fatty was Yutai’s daughter.

As I tried to digest this information, I saw Yutai move away and speak to the chauffeur cum security guard, the same one who had called him when Chat and I had gone looking for financial statements, and to two other men, one of whom looked familiar, although I couldn’t see him very well, and couldn’t place him. After first looking about him carefully, Yutai took something from the man who looked familiar and handed it to the chauffeur, who nodded, then quickly slipped into the crowd and out the door. Yutai looked back at Chat, and the most awful smile appeared on his face. It was only there for a split second, but I felt the mask had slipped for a moment, and the man’s true feelings were revealed. It made me feel slightly ill, and I turned away. When I turned back, Yutai was gone, but Wongvipa was looking straight at me. I didn’t like the way she looked at me, either. Something was wrong. Perhaps Chat was going to be drummed out of the company completely. I smiled and waved at Wongvipa as if I hadn’t seen a thing. She didn’t smile back.

The crowd started moving forward toward the doors into the theater, and I found myself caught in something of a crush. As I stood there, trapped, I heard a hoarse voice behind me and very close to my ear. “Go home,” the voice said. “You don’t belong here.” I tried to turn but couldn’t, and by the time I did, no one I knew was that close to me.

A minute or two later David Ferguson caught up to me in the aisle. “Do you know that fantastic-looking woman over there?” he said. “The one in the green dress?”

“That’s Praneet,” I said. “Praneet Chaiwong. She is fantastic looking, and she’s also a doctor.”

“I don’t suppose you’d introduce me,” he said. “Maybe we could invite her to dinner.”

“Sure,” I said.

“You’re a pal,” he said.

I found myself seated next to Khun Wichai. His daughter, Busakorn, was, as usual, supposed
to
be with Chat, but Chat was changing seats to sit with Jennifer.

“I see you and I are rivals of a sort,” Wichai said, as we watched the musical chairs. He looked amused and not at all the rather intimidating person David had described to me. Two large men, however, were sitting in the row behind us, one to either side. I assumed they were Wichai’s bodyguards, two of the cadre of loyal followers David had mentioned.

“I suppose we are,” I agreed with a smile. “I have a feeling that no matter what, though, we will have nothing whatsoever to say regarding the final decision.”

“Alas,” he said. “Times have changed since I was young. My wife was picked out for me when I was a mere boy. Still, we got along well enough. Your Jennifer is so, well, Western.”

“Please don’t say she’ll never fit in here,” I said. My tone was light, but I was starting to wonder whether the hoarse voice had belonged to Mr. Wichai.

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he said. “I have done rather well, speaking personally, from globalization. May it flourish. And now I think the performance is about to begin.”

He’s not such a bad sort,
I thought, as the lights went down.
For a man whose rivals simply disappear.
I looked around for Yutai. I couldn’t see him, but I could see the other man I recognized.
Who
is
that?
I wondered.
I know him from somewhere.

The Khon performance was an interesting one. Masked dancers told a story from the Ramakien, Thailand’s rather more secular version of the Hindu Ramayama. There was live music played on the traditional Thai instruments:
klong tadt
and
klong kak
drums, the sacred
tapone,
the two-faced drum that Thai dancers pay homage to before the performance so they will dance well, and
ranadek
and
ranad-thum,
both xylophone type instruments, and assorted cymbals and gongs. The dancing was highly stylized, the costumes and masks spectacular, and I really wished I was able to enjoy it more.

The Khon depicted the battle between good and evil, and I had a feeling, somehow, that it was being played out in real life, right in front of my eyes. It was as if everything I had seen in the theater lobby had been almost as choreographed as the performance I was now watching. The masks of the demons on the stage were the smiles of the people I had met. The vision of Yutai and Wongvipa, and the looks on their faces, haunted me.
Shrimp,
I thought suddenly.
The brother of the monk who was now in jail for smuggling, the big man in the amulet market who told me his name was Shrimp, and who had seemed determined to take the bad amulets off my hands. That’s who was talking to Yutai.
The way I saw it, the meeting was neither a coincidence nor casual.

At the end of the performance I found David Ferguson.

“Come with us,” I said to Jennifer and Chat. “It will be fun.” In truth I just wanted to keep them both near me, to keep them safe.

“You go, Jennifer,” Chat said. “I have a really bad headache. I think I’ll just go home.”

“I’ll go with you,” she said loyally.

“No, really,” he said, squeezing her arm. “I’m just going to take something for this headache and go to bed. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“If you’re sure,” she said.

“I’m sure. I’ll have the car pick you up at the Skytrain around what? Eleven, eleven-thirty?”

We spent a very pleasant evening with David. I made the introductions with Praneet, but she was on her way back to the hospital and couldn’t join us, much to David’s disappointment. As promised, he took us to a restaurant where we were the only
farang.
I had no idea where we were, but the food was fabulous. Jennifer enjoyed herself, too, although I could see she was thinking about Chat a lot of the time.