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    The Katoey of Gethsemane Soi
    The Katoey of Gethsemane Soi
    The Katoey of Gethsemane Soi
    Ebook918 pages15 hours

    The Katoey of Gethsemane Soi

    By alasdair gilchrist

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    About this ebook

    The Katoey of Gethsemane Soi is a dark physcological crime thriller set in Thailand.

    LanguageEnglish
    Publisheralasdair gilchrist
    Release dateDec 31, 2014
    ISBN9781507075012
    The Katoey of Gethsemane Soi

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      Book preview

      The Katoey of Gethsemane Soi - alasdair gilchrist

      Chapter 1

      ‘Don’t you come back ever again’, it was very good advice, forceful advice, and I should have been listening, not talking, I will come back for you, I swear to God, I will come back, I swear, that’s what got me into this mess, not listening, talking I guess, not believing it possible, disregarding everything they told me, everything I told me, as lies and jest, more toxic nonsense, corrupted memories, perhaps the product of a bang on the head, or of alcohol abuse, inconsequential really, it’s strange I never actually stopped to consider, why?

      Those were the thoughts, and the words spluttered, barely audible above his sobs, by the man who knelt, stricken by fear and racked by doubt, in the desolation of the garden. A rock garden, besieged and over-run by tall grasses, that lent privacy, and bright flowering orchids, which sprang from and along the great bow and branches of the large tree, lent colour and splendor. The large tree would have dominated the landscape by its sheer size but for the presence of the weeping tree, with its brooding serenity, whose vines fall all around it, in a heavy veil of tears that are shed for those that seek, its sanctuary and its solitude.

      For whatever reason the man didn’t question, perhaps he knew anyway, deep down, he just chose to except that his actions had led to these unforeseen consequences. He had rambled on his way, oblivious to the destructive nature of his return, to both friend and foe, oblivious to the inconvenience, the threat, the danger and the dread, which cloaked him, that stalked alongside, with every toxic step he contaminated those around him. Otherwise, he was alone, or as alone as any man can be with such a past. A harbour for such inconvenient truths, darkly deposited and craftily concealed, slyly shoveled and hurriedly buried, the secrets, the corpses, left to decompose, left to rot.

      But never really alone, oh no, never given peace by the gnawing memories, time does not see to that, for the bodies in the mind, do not rot away, till only the last vapors, escape in a whiff from the leaf mould bubbling up through the dark still waters. No they scuttle and scrape, sniffing and licking, gripping and grasping, they germinate, out of spite, within fauna and flora, within snails and minnows, within tadpoles, darting and diving, life springs again from the remains. The solitary flakes and the residual crumbs, the gristle and the mince, floating in the shallows or drifting through the depths, food for the fishes, rising once more, with new lives,  with new voices, with new faces leering up through the surface, laughing through fish eyes, and whispering ... will they never just sleep?

      Sweat beaded on the man’s brow, rivulets, weaving their way through his thin eyebrows and into his eyes, smarting, stinging he tries to wipe them away, but they run down his cheeks mixed with tears, charting salty paths through the stubble, trickling down the side of his neck. He remembers, the sky, a deep blood red, ominously reflected on the still dark water, a dark foreboding shadow rose from the darkness, an island, small and rocky, dominated by a single large brooding Banyan tree that spreads its bows out like wings in domination, a silhouette against the crimson evening.

      Why me? he pleads, but the answer is clear.

      Why not you? comes a voice of implacable reason from deep within him, but it is not him.

      The man shrugs, his gut saddled with grief and sickness, nausea chews at his throat, destroying his morale, his concentration, obliterating clarity, of thought or reason.

      I cannot do this ... I just can’t he whispers alone, for there is no one to hear, except maybe his God, but he is not praying, or at least will not admit to it, not yet, is he reduced to bargaining, pleading, not yet committed to prayer, not quite yet. For something, some shadow of cunning, will not allow that, that acceptance, that responsibility, that contrition, something refuses still to believe, to accept, something holds true, holds fast, is resolute.

      My life, is not an option, the man snarls, he is kneeling in the garden, his self-pity ebbing away, the anger flowing forth, but it will be transitory, like this for hours to come. The tide of emotions flowing back and fore, up and down, acceptance or denial, round and round, circling, circling, round and round, up and down, in sickening repetition.

      Heroes or cowards, there are no such thing, Something sneers, products of circumstance, illusions of mercy, a hero today a coward tomorrow, never substance, only illusions. The man hangs his head, he nods in acknowledgement.

      His word, did he not give his word? asks another from the shadows of his soul.

      His word you say?  Ha, given under duress, inadmissible, I’m afraid. Something explains, as the man cups his face in the palms of his hands, and moans.

      His Promises, did he not make heartfelt promises?

      Well his promise, now let’s see, Ah, a tool, a mere bargaining technique, Something advocates, Not to be taken literally.

      "Not to be taken literally? You mean a lie.

      No not a lie, but something unsubstantial, like yourself, ethereal, obscure and tenebrous, where as I am, well Something, the storm anchor of reason, logic, do you see?

      Ha Ha, very droll, don’t call us, we’ll call you.

      Well if you haven’t got your humour what have you got, I always say.

      Well then, how about His Honour?

      Honour, hah, that fraud! No, he has nothing to honour; as well you know Honour can only be bestowed upon another, Ha, there are those say it mustn’t be accepted, for there lies delusion, no, do not speak to us of Honour the most ambiguous, caliginous and deceitful of gifts, Ha Honour, don’t make me laugh.

      Will he not respect his pledge, not even for the truth, for the love, for friendship?

      No, not for any of those false Gods, you are correct in your suspicions, he mercifully has no honour, be off with you charlatan, with your weasel words, Something scoffed.

      The voices inside his head are silent, but conflict still wells, billowing up and swirling within, dark clouds, thundering across gunmetal grey skies, whipped up by distant winds. But here, in contrast, the air is still, yet thick with tension, sparking, tingling to the touch, far away the water on the lake is rippling, bubbling, simmering with apprehension, as fish rise, feeding. For it is dusk.

      Why punish yourself, Something asks, forget them, just leave, the paths, the way out, you know the way out, you spent time here before, you know the way out, just go, go now, the voice demands seductively, the words oh so sweet to his ear.

      Your Friends, they put their faith in you, will you not at least try? Comes the contemptuous reply, he wished above all things that voice would, could, be silenced, why, was it plotting, and scheming against him, against everything held dear, against his, its own survival, is that his insanity, that the voice demands him to risk his life for strangers?

      His friends you ask? Something scoffs, if indeed they are his friends then they would not ask such a task of him, they would be glad to free him of such a burden, to be of service to him. They would desire that they help him. Not submit him to such an impossible burden.

      They are not free to lift his burden, they, his friends, will die if he does not help them, as he agreed he would, he traded his promise to do everything he could, to undertake the ‘Trial by Ordeal’, in return for his freedom, so that they might all be saved. The words were delivered dripping with soft willowy accusation, whispered, subliminal, like the message in the eyes of the fishes, and oh so reasonable.

      You say Friends, perhaps before, a long time ago, and acquaintances perhaps, strangers in some cases, to be blunt. You cannot expect him to risk his life, for strangers, come on be rational, be logical.

      But these are no strangers, the whisper, low and knowing, are they? the question, rising, gliding past, staring, and with a flick of the tail, swirling, it was gone.

      Shut up!

      The man looks to the sky it is darkening to a deep maroon, as the day drifts away, the remains of the light bleeding from the countryside.

      Perhaps we could take a minute to pray, to ask for courage, for wisdom?

      The man hears the voice, perhaps prayer is not far off, perhaps yet he will succumb to the deceptions, go seek forgiveness, and the illusion of mercy, from the ultimate fraudulent being, too trade, too bargain, but with what? His Soul, if there is such a thing, would it have worth, some utility? Or maybe he can promise to live a more honest life in exchange for a momentary heavenly intervention? But God, if there is one, will surely be wise to that old chestnut, that ruse, so perhaps he would be better, to take advice, and to run after all.

      Yes, now your thinking, just run, what will prayer achieve, frying pan and fire, that springs to mind, no, leave them, you can do no more, just run, run, they are doomed, you are not, you have a life, your death does not help them, it is lunacy to suggest otherwise, do not throw your life away! Something’s voice pleaded, the logic, the reason, the rational, so accommodating, and so warming.

      They have put their hopes, their lives, their faith in you, will you let them down, are you so cowardly? a cold breeze, shivers down his spine.

      Huh, don’t kid yourself here, they would do the same, do you think they would help you, Ha, ha, don’t make me laugh, save yourself, save your life, forget them, forget you ever knew them, it’s not like you’ve never done it before. Sighed Something, whispering furtively, Come on what is the downside, yeah, there are the dreams, and yes there are the flashbacks, and yes you’ll have to listen to goody two shoes there, nagging away tirelessly for the rest of your life, but hey I have that every minute of the day, I get by.

      You made an agreement, they would help you get free, if you would champion them in return, and will you not honour the agreement?

      Agreement, honour, here we go again, it was made under different circumstances, they were all doomed, condemned, but he is now free, it is not like it was before, circumstances have changed, so must the spirit of the agreement, come on be reasonable here. Something reasoned, before concluding, Don’t listen to him, listen here, you have only one obligation and that is to yourself, so if you must honour something, honour it, now run, run along, live long my friend.

      But the man’s turmoil is paralyzing, his confusion roots him to the spot, because that sanctimonious rat, is still snipping away at him, as he know he will, now, and forever,

      Will you not even try, does your heart harbour no guilt, no responsibility, no shame, is love so alien to you, is fear so debilitating, that you will allow yourself to be the hands of this Sin, this atrocity. Again?

      There is silence in the garden, as the minutes drift by, time turning, on a higher plane, no longer straight, no longer measureable, I can offer you a deal, perhaps redemption, I can offer you a path to redemption?

      A path, a path? You are kidding me, your taking the piss now, not even redemption, only the path? Well I know a much better path.

      Chapter 2

      It was early evening and dusk was beginning to settle on the City of Angels, when Robert Gillespie checked into the Amari hotel in Sukhumvit, Bangkok’s vibrant business and entertainment zone. It had been a long time since he had been in Bangkok, perhaps 10 or twelve years. He had been in no hurry to return, but needs must. A job offer after what seemed like an eternity of unemployment - thought it was actually nearer to 9 months - was the catalyst and he had jumped at the chance the necessity to return to work, to earn a salary, to anchor an identity, those needs over shadowing any inexplicable feelings of dread or foreboding. His new employers, or rather his potential new employers - there was some paper work that required completing all supposedly formalities, in order to secure a visa and work permit, - had booked the flights and hotel accommodation, which was just as well as money was tight.

      He took a can of beer from the mini bar and stepped out onto the balcony overlooking the skyline of Bangkok. The Heineken was ice cold and refreshing but the cigarette was what he wanted after more than 24 hours abstinence. With a cold beer in hand and bathed in the warm muggy air of evening, he sat and drank the cold beer and smoked, staring out at the night illuminations, city skyscrapers and shopping malls, so densely packed and standing so tall and so brightly lit they obliterated the stars above. He clenched and unclenched his fists, wiggling his tense fingers, sometimes it just felt good, to feel that he was in control, he was back, for better or for worse, he was back.

      ***

      Rob had gone to bed late but awoke early, by a combination of time difference and excitement and after a quick shower and a cup of coffee, he unpacked his suitcase, something he had neglected to do the previous evening. The laptop was in his hand luggage a North Face backpack, which he pulled out and connected up to the hotel’s Wi-Fi. It was a right pain in the ass but finally the connection came to life and he got beyond the hotels walled Internet garden. He connected to his Gmail account, habitually by automation, the result of long-term unemployment and the constant search for work. He was pleased to find eight emails from Jobserve in his inbox, it would be a relief to cancel these Jobsite notifications, but not just yet, he didn’t want to test fate. He glanced down through the list and there it was nestled amongst the Jobserve unopened mail was the fifth email message from the anonymous sender. Irritated he contemplated deleting it or marking it as spam, but the irritation subsided and the uneasiness returned, his eyes drifting back up the list, the allure too strong, so he clicked it open.

      Oh how you loved this.

      The simple words a link, which brought up a video, that was as incomprehensible as the others were, just more nonsense. He played it one more time, looking for some relevance - it was as short if not shorter than the other video clips - but as with the others, he could find none.

      He shrugged the unease aside, closing the laptop, a memory of a girl and a place flickered in his mind, and he headed out in search of the early bird drinkers and the ghosts from the past.

      ***

      He made good time from the hotel in Nana, Soi 5 and was on Soi 23 in around 30 minutes, he was glad to get there, for no sooner had he began his travels did it strike him that Confusion may no longer be there. It was perhaps, sold on, shutdown or under new management. However as he made his way further up Soi 23 he saw that thankfully it was still there in all its shambolic disarray.

      Confusion, a bar battling against the odds, an old-fashioned unpretentious watering hole, oblivious to the fickle trends and turn of fashion. Needless to say, this bloody mindedness came at a cost, it attracted only long-term ex-pats or other ne’er-do wells, a niche market. Tourists, though coveted by the owner tended to find the caustic and unwelcoming verve from the bars ex-pat locals intimidating or just plain rude. The Bar itself had been generously described as having ‘Character’, whatever that meant in bar review lingo. In Rob’s experience, it came from reviewers trying to be generous, but damning by faint praise. Confusion certainly met the standard usually applied to such bars of ‘Character’; run down, dimly lit, dingy dumps that somehow managed to host an ebullient, gregarious and mixed charm of customer, but Confusion, Rob thought failed miserably on the latter.

      The bar’s customers were predominantly ex-pats, and old style hard-core ex-pats at that, so possibly more accurately described as cliquish cunts. The bar’s owner’s management style, best described in one caustic review, but in polite terms; ‘its run as if it’s his bloody living room’, others were far less complimentary. However survive it did and now as Robert Gillespie pushed open the wobbly front door, with a propensity to jam, he cautiously entered the low lit bar, he was thankful for life’s oddities.

      It was still early only 8.30 am but there were several other early bird drinkers, shadows mingling within the smoke reek gloom, sprinkled sparingly around the large horseshoe bar or snuggling into the cavernous booths. All men, all foreigners, middle aged to old, pre-dominantly British, American or Anzac, sitting alone or in loose confederations, with beers stuffed in Styrofoam coolers, breakfast, all with that cultivated look that years of disillusionment and disappointment bring, a mask of terminal disinterest.

      Rob looked around the bar but could see no staff, or elicit any response from the other customers who had greeted his arrival with casual aloofness, and disregard. He cast his eye around trying to penetrate the haze of smoke and gloom, that skulked around the low watt lighting but he recognized no one, and no one recognised him, he may as well have been invisible, a ghost from the past.

      He pondered for a few seconds, to stay or go, reluctantly he took a bar stool close to the cash register, under the presumption that the errant bar staff should at some point return to that strategic spot.

      As he climbed up onto the heavy wooden bar stool he noticed from this temporary vantage point that below the bar counter on the other side was a wide shelf upon which the missing barmaid lay asleep. He now had the kind of dilemma that is a challenge for the newbie or tourist. What should they do? Accept the situation and leave or wait patiently? It would appear both these are common newbie tactics, and are both futile. You walk out, then there is no beer for hours, wait stoically and the girl sleeps on. The solution though, maybe obvious, is to wake the sleeping beauty up. Unfortunately, that is not as simple, or as safe as it might first appear.

      Rob waited, patiently fiddling with his cigarettes and lighter - whilst entertaining himself by casting an evaluating eye over the functional furnishings and bleak decor, nothing had changed, it still boasted a style designed to evoke melancholy, brooding, dolefulness, and uppermost, righteous indignation, all oxygen to the ex-pat, comfort and home. Thankfully, the police still considered this a smoking bar, despite all government legislation to the contrary; he lit a cigarette, pushed aside the packet and lighter, and waited.

      The girl slept on.

      Rob distracted by a rustle and then some pained low groans, emanating from the shadows of the booths to his right, seating areas situated around the walls, even lower lit for privacy. Dark foreboding places, only welcoming when under the bars full strip lighting neon glare, and that, if Rob remembered correctly was rarely on. The noises grew louder, grumbling and complaining, shifting to some low level laughter, before two disheveled bargirls emerged from the shadows, still half-asleep, still in last night’s clothes and make up, still half drunk.

      Still the Barmaid slept.

      The hungover bargirls awakening brought muted responses from their working colleagues who through sleepy, hooded eyes, peered over from their perches on their barstools and laps of their beaus, rising tall like Meerkats, wriggling from the clutching embrace of dismal weariness, to meet and greet with gossip and giggles and glasses of Thai whisky all round.

      The Barmaid was not one of those to rouse and greet, with laughter and whisky, she slept on, well, until a stone-faced man drinking from a bottle of Heineken at the far end of the bar, ascertained with a swirl and a theatrical peer down the neck, that his beer bottle was empty. He cast an impatient, accusing glare in Rob’s direction, jabbered some incomprehensible garbled Thai to the stirring, shambolic bargirls, who returned equally uncomprehending blank stares through insolent eyes. Unsatisfied, he rose up on his barstool supports, tall and righteous, and glaring down at the sleeping barmaid, he let rip a roar that was staggering in its ferocity and intensity.

      The barmaid woke not with a start or a jump but electrified. She shrieked, her hair spiked like a startled cat she scrambled up crashing her head against the ceiling of the bar counter, falling, tipping over the side, she landed unceremoniously on her backside with a thump. Rubbing her head she looked up with confusion and bewilderment straight up into Rob’s astonished gaze. Disorientated, and annoyed - the fact that she did not immediately recognize her tormentor, confirmed that Rob must be the instigator of her misfortune - her face darkened and her eyes narrowed, sparked by a fury, morphing to an intense curiosity, rising and then retreating to a simmering irritation, a curious contempt, she glared up at Rob.

      The chuckle from the drinker along the bar, and the raucous laughter from the sleepy bargirls broke the spell and the barmaid rose and went to replace the man’s beer, her friends attention embraced and soothed her, within seconds she was laughing and shrieking along, and playfully boxing the beer drinker. When she returned to serve Rob, her good nature evaporated, she was still suspicious, and mean looking, she still viewed him with distrustful contemptuous eyes, still bearing some sort of grudge.

      It was a good hour or so later before Wally the owner came into the bar, or rather descended the stairs from the upstairs short time rooms, where he often spent the night, alone, for the sake of convenience. He appeared at the top of the stairs, scratching his balls and coughing furiously, his eyes flicking, like his cigarette, around the bar to see who was in. They settled on Rob, a momentary pause in contemplation, evaluation, calculation, perhaps satisfied, but inscrutable and humourless, they continuing on their way, scanning the other figures in the gloom. Wally paused suddenly, and raised a palm across his eyes, before taking a second look and staring back at Rob once more.

      Bloody Hell, look what the cats dragged in he exclaimed, delightedly as he descended the steps, It’s been a bloody long time since I’ve seen you round these parts He walked over and wrapped one huge arm around Rob’s shoulder and hugged him close. What the hell are you doing back here, I thought you were dead?

      No, no, I went back to the UK but I’m just back for a week or so then, hopefully if I can get a visa and work permit, I will be back for a while. I’ve been offered a job here in Bangkok.

      A job in Bangkok, yeah. Hey it’s good to see you, never thought I’d see you back after the last time. Wally shook his head laughing, and planked himself down on the nearest barstool, Hey Joy, get some beers in he motioned with his arm to include the other customers as well. The bargirl Joy smiled and quickly and efficiently set about her task, the earlier stroppiness abandoned for the time being.

      She set about replacing the beers, with surprising good humour and efficiency, just as another customer appeared as if from nowhere, just seemed to materialize from the shadows of the booths that ran along the back wall. He looked old, he had an emaciated skeletal look about his facial features though his body was wiry and he sported tight knots of muscle and looked fit. He took a bar stool to Rob’s right and ordered a whisky, a straight Thai whisky, in Thai and with hesitation, his voice breaking and heavy in conflict as if his mind and body where locked in mortal struggle.

      Well you look fucking shit today Tony, what were you up to last night? enquired Wally, cheerfully, teasing his hung-over bedraggled customers, for it usually meant their money was already safely deposited in his till by that point.

      Oh I had to take some greenhorns on the Nana tour, he rubbed his eyes roughly with his balled knuckles before raising the pungent whisky with a trembling hand to his thin lips. Rob casually watched him, Tony took his first sip and shuddered and set the glass back on the bar, with a deliberate forceful swallow he bent forward and pinched the bridge of his nose with thumb and forefinger. Philistines, fucking philistines they were, took them to about ten bars all heaving with pussy and all they did was complain! he tried valiantly to take another sip of the Thai whisky, and this time it must have been better received by his tortured body as there was only a grimace and a shake of his old turtle head. 

      Ha Tony, this is the guy I was telling you about before Wally slapped Rob on the back, the fucking Viagra king. Wally bellowed, looking around for his other Customers, secreted and scattered, and insistently beckoning for their attention, expertly he brought them to order. Took four Viagra and took all my pussy upstairs, four bloody hours he was up there fucking all my girls, Wally beamed proudly.

      The old looking man Tony turned to face Rob, well well, the living breathing embodiment of one of Wally’s tall tales. Eh.

      Another Customer across the bar, a much younger but infinitely bigger man, lost interest in the bargirl with whom he was flirting or groping, joined the conversation. Well he must have a bloody strong heart then, or if it was your Viagra a bloody weak mind, he chuckled. There was a flash of anger across Wally’s face, but it was just that, a flash.

      There’s nothing wrong with my Viagra, Bear, this guy is the proof of it, took four of my girls upstairs and shagged the lot of them, he bellowed happily, Jesus he fucked what’s her name, you remember the girl with the pony tail, looked like that pop star, three times, once up the ass. Wally chuckled, slapping Rob, cackling and coughing, on the back he continued, She is coming downstairs to me, saying, ‘what we going to do Papa, he is fucking us all and we can’t get it to go down’, Wally bawled making an obscene gesture, and his audience forced themselves to laugh along, they had heard it a thousand times before. However, to be fair Wally did have a leading man, a victim to exploit not just a first-hand witness but also the actual subject, someone to confess and validate the tale. Wally slapping Rob on the back and hugged him close, Ha Ha, you lot thought it was all bullshit, well here’s your proof, Wally stated triumphantly.

      Bear, who was losing interest, had returned to having his hand up the bargirls top and kneading her boobs. She perched provocatively on his lap; her hand rubbing his cock through his thick denim shorts, Bear simply shook his head, smiling and took a drink from his beer bottle. Tony however seemed awestruck, for the first time he actually managed to bring his eyes to focus on Rob, examining him closely.

      So you like the Thai pussy? he asked slyly, his turtle head prodded forward and his runny eyes dazed but keen. Perhaps I can interest you in a tour? Before Rob could reply, Wally was interrupting taking control; he did not want his customers poached this early in the day.

      I don’t think he needs any tours Tony, Wally said interrupting He’s an old customer from years ago, I think a tour round the red light districts, is like teaching your grandma to suck cocks. Tony shrugged, in no mood to argue and returned to battling his whisky.

      Place changes, people change, different preferences as you get older, some have specific needs and little time, local knowledge is a big thing, saves a lot of time. That’s why my tours are so popular, saves a lot of time, tell me what you like and I focus on that, take you to what you want, saves you looking in the wrong places, saves time, and money he recited languidly to no one in particular, just anyone who was in ears shot.

      Wally had heard all right though, Yeah you’re a bloody authority alright, twenty years of hard-core whore mongering, replied Wally chucking, he pointed towards Tony, this guy must know about every bar and every whore that’s ever fucked in Bangkok. Rob was suddenly interested, and he turned to Tony, what do you know about Bangkok scams?

      What do you mean, bargirl scams? Tony enquired.

      Yeah, well I’m not sure, videos, emails like it’s an introduction to blackmail or something. Tony sighed and finally managed to down his whisky; he tapped the empty glass on the counter and nodded to the barmaid Joy.

      What’s there to know he said sadly, they fuck with your mind if you give them half a chance. It’s not love, it’s not romance, it’s purely sex, keep it at that, a business transaction like buying a burger and you will be ok, try anything else and its big trouble. He raised his new glass and saluted Rob, keep it simple, then everyone is happy, he remarked and turned to address Joy in Thai. Rob listened then ordered another beer, and drinks for the other guys from another bargirl who had just turned up for work. Quickly and gratefully, she went about her task giving him a wink and a big smile. Rob’s timely order had distracted Wally from chastising her for being late, his threats to put her over his knee and spank her, interrupted, and the moment had passed and Wally drifted away, now challenging a new customer to a game of pool.

      That was one of Confusion’s peculiarities that people just seemed to appear, no grand entrances or welcomes. People simply seemed to materialize at the bar, and it was the same with leaving, one minute there, the next gone, whiffs of smoke, leaving but a residue of a cigarette stub or an empty glass or bottle, a hanging conversation, a sense of loss.

      Rob turned to Tony, who now was finishing his rapid incomprehensible Thai conversation with Joy, something that made Wally and the other customers lurking around uneasy judging by the disapproving glances they threw in the conspirators’ direction.

      What I was actually meaning is I’m getting sent some very strange emails from Thailand or rather with Thai themes and I can’t make head or tail of them. They all seem to be bar and street scenes but I don’t recognize anyone in them or even the locations. Rob explained and Tony perked up and leaned closer.

      Do you have your laptop with you? he nodded towards Rob’s rucksack.

      Yeah I do, can you take a look and see if you can recognize anything?

      Sure, let’s go over to a booth over there, you set it up and I’ll see if I can help you. They shuffled over to a nearby booth and Robert set up the laptop, and as he waited for it to boot, Tony asked, So you any idea who could be sending you these mails?

      No. No idea, Rob replied. I was here before for a few months, years ago but I lost touch with any girls I knew then, well never was in touch actually. But I don’t recognise any of these girls, that’s for sure, and as you’ll see I’m not in any of them either.

      They settled into one of the booths, sunk in the shadows, with the curiously stained, cigarette scarred, once red, but now closer to burgundy mock velvet covered bench seats. The laptop finally booted and established a Wi-Fi connection, Rob selected one of the offending emails, and opened the message. Tony leant forward expectantly, licking the whisky from his lips and concentrating with an uncanny intensity.

      Remember this, Remember me? the text simple and clear, placed slyly above the URL link. He opened it and Tony waited curiously, as the video buffered, the download was quick, efficient, as it was a short clip. He clicked with the mouse to play and the scene unfolded. Rob suddenly, in a mild panic, remembered the audio and moved swiftly to adjust the volume to low; just a fraction too late to prevent a blast of music erupted from the speakers.

      Three girls danced, each on separate spot lit pods, no poles for them to shuffle against, these were real dancers, provocatively dressed no doubt, but there was no mistaking these for go-go girls, no lazy and clumsy pretense, this was highly charged, professional and sexy. The camera zoomed in to the central Pod; the dancer was dressed in lingerie, with a turquoise chemise and matching underwear that shone against her creamy coffee skin.  Her long shiny black hair lightly waved bouncing on her shoulders; glitter sparkled on her cleavage, her breast full, firm and high, strained against the uplift lace bra. She stared flirtatiously seductively, assuming a pose, her long toned legs stretching down to silver-green stiletto shoes, set shoulder width apart. She smiled brightly, her eyes narrowed, sexy naughty and challenging, she raised both arms in front of her, her hand clasped together mimicking holding a pistol; she pouted and blew a slow kiss.

      Tony moved gracefully from observing to controlling as he slipped his hand over to encompass the mouse, he replayed the video clip of the dancing girl like a dealer validating an antique a work of art.

      Rob watched him curiously, Well any ideas? Tony rubbed his chin thoughtfully and sighed. "Not much to go on, can’t name the bar as it isn’t one, it’s a club, probably a Thai club not a tourist one. She isn’t a Bargirl that’s for sure, I’m certain she’s a Coyote dancer. But she is one incredibly beautiful girl, see how she glows, that’s the UV lighting to make them appear white skinned, but because she is already pretty pale skinned it makes her shine. I’d say she is either from the North, Chiang Mai region or possibly here in Bangkok, maybe she’s a Luk Krung, a Eurasian going by her facial features, but they all go in for surgery nowadays. I don’t think she’s a bargirl, to energetic, a university student maybe, but one thing is for sure if you can’t remember this girl, you have never met her.

      Bear come over here and look at this Pussy will you, he shouts over to the large younger guy at the far end of the bar. Bear sighed, he plucks the wriggling, bored but irritatingly playful whore from his lap, and props her on a stool nearby. His palm up to her to indicate stay, a command any self-respecting dog would have no difficulty understanding. Bear is big, and he waddles over to the booth before sliding in besides Tony. The playful girl is shouting over to him in a singsong melody, something about missing him already, is all Rob catches. However, the other Bargirls burst out laughing and they shout and cackle amongst themselves, finding something rudely hilarious. Bear turns back to her, and shakes his head mockingly; the smile she returns is affectionate, surprisingly touching.

      Tony replays the video, and all three sit back to watch.

      Ah bloody hell, what you drag me over here to see that for, I was expecting some pussy not a fucking Coyote cock teaser. He shook his head in mock outrage but sighed genuine disappointment. For fuck sake Tony you know these girls aren’t on the menu, strictly no take away,

      Yeah they are even starting to appear in the red light areas, God knows why, agreed Tony.

      Rob started the second video; Bear groans, What the fuck is this now, CCTV?

      I don’t think so, just crap quality I reckon, replied Rob, but he was again noticing the intensity of Tony’s examination. Bear was losing interest fast, his gaze returning impatiently to the girl at the bar. Well that was until the girls, topless figure wakened his interest. Tony though again deep in thought replayed the clip time after time, even Bear seemed to be curious, but mildly irritated about something.

      Let’s see that again, I can’t make it out. Bear requested with a sly look towards Tony who was staring at the Laptop screen. Tony clicked on the link again and the blurry video started to emerge rather than play.

      A street scene slowly took form, poorly lit and jumpy; no shake control, a scene depicting night vendors selling street food, noodle soup, Somtam and beers on tiny foldaway metal tables with bright plastic stools. The street is not busy; the scene is quiet and lethargic, though there are a handful of customers hanging lazily and bored around a noodle stall. He guesses it is late, very late, as the customer’s movements their actions are slow and laborious, not playful, with the excitement and hope of early evening, but the fatigue, dejection and accepted failure of the early hours.

      The poor quality of the video does not help and it’s from a position high up probably from a room on the second floor of a building standing opposite. Close enough to get reasonable scope on the scene but high enough to escape most of the street noise. The camera pans across the scene, cheap and nasty, and comes to bear, focused on the mouth of an adjoining soi. A couple is walking up the soi, a Thai woman with a foreign man. The camera zooms in to set them just off central in the frame, leaving no doubt that they are the subjects. The foreigner is dressed like a tourist, long shorts, sandals and a bright basketball style vest. He is young perhaps early twenties, slim but athletic, with a strange rolling short stepped gait. His hair is long and appears to be fair, but the video quality is poor. It is good enough though for Rob and the others to know with certainty that it is not him; at this time or any other time, it is 100% not Rob.

      Hang on can you pause there on the girl asks Bear urgently stretching over and pointing to the screen.

      Tony hits pause and the video stops, and clicks back through the frames, which capture her, the video zooms in and he hits play, she is quite tall in relation to the parked cars and her companion. With long dark hair and long legs, she could easily be the same girl as in the Coyote club, she is sporting a very short mini skirt, it is red, her shoes, they are black, her legs, they are fantastic, toned and long, slim but sexy, muscled but elegant, emphasised by her confidence, her walk. Her T-shirt is white with red piping, designer perhaps, maybe fake, even cheap, emblazoned with some mangled English phrase, they cannot tell, for what is of interest is that it is in her hands, she is walking up the soi, topless. She and her companion seemingly unconcerned, only now is she lifting the T-shirt up to slip over her head and cover her fantastic, though probably fake, boobs. She pulls down the front of the T-shirt and adjusts it to best show off her cleavage, and there is a logo on the T-shirt, ‘Yes, I do ... but not with you’. The couple pause at the junction with the main soi, but before slipping into the 7-eleven store on the corner she looks up at the camera, checks her companion is not looking and sneaks a cheeky wave.’

      Pre or Post Bear asked with a giggle, a whisper.

      I don’t know, but by the look on the guys face and his general body language, I’d say it’s pre-operation, replied Tony,

      Yeah he doesn’t look happy, laughed Bear.

      Ha Ha, no I was meaning by that strange walk. Laughed Tony, That’s why most of the Ladyboy these days aren’t getting snipped, most of their Customers want them that way, want to be doing the catching themselves.

      Ha, Ha your right there, a ladyboy can do anything a girl can do, but a ladyboy can do things a girl can’t.

      Well yes if you ignore the fact that anal sex isn’t nothing like vaginal sex, replied Tony thoughtfully, or the touch of their skin, they feel like males, they can’t hide that.

      You think that’s a lady boy a katoey? asked Rob.

      Yep and a damn fine looking one at that replied Bear swigging his beer. What I’d give to fucking rattle her bones. Tony chuckled at the remark, but Rob looked over at Bear in surprise, he was unsure he heard right.

      Ah but can you name that tune though?’ asked Tony tilting his head towards the paused frame of the topless Katoey?

      Don’t ask me ask him laughed Bear pointing to a sheepish Rob.

      Hey hang on, fuck, I have no idea, anyway why do you think she is a katoey? I thought she was the same girl in the other video, No?

      Hey, No bargirl no matter how hard core is going to walk down the street topless, and certainly no Coyote! Tony stated with a look of incredulity, reaching for his drink and taking a sip. Yeah the hookers, the Bargirls, they dance naked in the bars, even fire darts out of there pussy once the years have taken their toll, but walk down the street topless, and with absolute confidence. No fucking chance, that is a step way too far, only a Katoey could be that brazen or that spectacular.

      But she might well be female? Rob asked hopefully. There is no way you can tell from that, physically I mean.

      I reckon a lady boy. What do you think Tony? said Bear taking a swig from his beer.

      Tony smirked, still not convinced and replayed the entire clip, I don’t know, but I think we are missing the point here. Why would you shoot a one minute video from a crap location and waste 30 seconds of it filming unlucky bargirls languishing over somtam and beer? Tony enquired, That doesn’t make any sense.

      Perhaps they just got bored waiting, Christ I’m bored watching them, said Bear.

      Ok let’s see the third one, Robert said selecting the next mail and clicking the URL. It opened, and Tony and Bear huddled around the screen.

      The camera moves through the crowd, weaving it’s way, through swirling multi coloured lights, guided meticulously towards a high table, where two Thai woman dance energetically eagerly clinging to each other. They are wearing very short shorts, lacy tops which shows their bras, and they wear small half jackets to protect them from the vicious AC. A voice, close to, or behind the camera calls a name, as one the two girls turn, their arms still wrapped around each other’s waist. They both smile brightly and naturally, gleaming white teeth, big brown eyes, false eyelashes, heavily made up but cute as buttons. They laugh and feign shock at a suggestion from the camera, but it is forced, contrived and unconvincing - they were going to do it anyway. They clinch each other, passionately and kiss on the mouth, a long sensuous kiss, The camera scanned down and takes in the small hand gently pressing against a pert satin bum, it pans seductively across and up and around to capture a ring adorned hand caressing a breast, before returning to the kissing open eyed girls. The girls break off the kiss, giggling and teasing the camera, flirtatious and inviting, making cute Thai hand signs for the camera; a straight three fingered, rotating salute but at cheek level, delivered with dazzling double entendre, - copied from a Mobile 3G advert - delighted and delightful, flirtatious and sexy, ball achingly cute. And there are two of them. The video ends.

      The three of them watched as the camera scanned the nightclub entrance and the murmured to each other as the two girls embraced and kissed.

      Jesus, what have you been up too? joked Bear, you do know where that is don’t you?

      No I don’t, where is it laughed Rob self consciously beginning to wish he had kept the videos private.

      You do realize, it has caught your attention I take it, that all the customers going in and out at the beginning are female, Toms and Dees, you noticed that right? Said Tony, Well that’s a lesbian club up in Rachtatvee.

      OK well there is nothing to see there then, so let me show you the next one.

      Well no hang on, not so quick there hold your horses will you, said Tony. I haven’t seen those pussies in a long, long time.

      Yeah play it again, agreed Bear. That’s a right pair of celebrities you got there, mate.

      What, you know these two girls? asked Rob.

      They used to work down Silom way, Patpong, specializing in threesome; they claimed to be identical twins maybe are, I don’t know, all look the fucking same to me anyway, well when I’m drunk. Bear laughed ruefully, Well, it seems they may now be finding the rich Thai tom clientele and lesbian scene more to their liking.

      Maybe less rough, less dangerous? ventured Rob. But as sisters would they do that?

      Tony gave him a quizzical look, and Bear shook his head. What difference would that make? Bear said genuinely perplexed. Do you think they weren’t eating each other’s pussy when they were with guys?

      Lesbian acts with her sister, and other girls dressed as guys? said Rob What is it with this gender confusion?

      Well there is no real confusion with these, the toms are lesbians who dress as men, use male speech and behaviour, and want girlfriends, usually very pretty girlfriends, very feminine, like those two. So, there is nothing strange there other than that they are so successful. The Dee’s well they are very pretty females who are usually bi-sexual, and flit between male and female partners, though some prefer only toms as partners. But your right some girls who would consider themselves to be totally straight, have tom relationships, but I don’t know how intimate they get, or if they are platonic. But don’t confuse those two in the video with normal behaviour, they are pro’s, if the money is right, well ... Tony tailed off his explanation.

      To me it’s the whole fucking point of a threesome, to see the girl on girl action, and I mean close action, not bumping and grinding each other with a strap-on dildo, and those sisters know that, they get their tongues right in there. Okay what else you got, on there, interrupted Bear impatiently waving his beer bottle towards the screen.

      Robert ran the fourth video.

      A busy Soi, Tourists stalked up and down, showing only passing fleeting curiosity at the bar in question. The bright neon lights and backlighting on the dance floor made the dancers appear as gyrating silhouettes, street hawkers and extreme tourists passed by before the camera. Obese, grotesque beer bellied, or ridiculously muscle bound, tattooed men - temporarily blocking the cameras view. The audio a cacophony, a battle of blaring rock music from competing sources and systems, complemented by the drone of chattering, topped by loud shrieks and high pitched laughter, exciting and irritating in equal measure.

      Finally just as the video is about to close, a woman is framed; she stands by the entrance of the go-go bar looking out into the street. She waves playfully, cheekily to the camera. She is standing alone by the door expectantly, happily, waiting. She gives another huge smile and laughing tossing her mane of hair around, she emerges from the shadows of the doorway, she heads towards the camera, a suitor, a grinning boy on each arm. She is walking with a confidence and grace that is somewhat incongruous with the setting, as she navigates her boyfriends through the lumbering bovine herd of gaping tourists. She nears the camera, she smiles, at first slyly then triumphantly, before she parades down the street. The camera follows the exaggerated sway of her hips, the long magnificent main of jet black hair cut in an accentuated V hangs down to her buttocks, which are covered by the short black ice skater skirt, fluttering around her long slim legs as she walks, the walk of the catwalk, the walk of a woman used to being watched.

      And boy did they watch, they watched the go-go bar scene with fascination,

      Well well finally I can help you here said Tony proudly, but first let me ask, what you make of this? he asked Rob.

      Well it’s a go-go bar obviously, and I think it is the same girl or katoey from before, and she has been bought out by a couple of guys, probably for a threesome? deduced Rob. With a couple of rich Thai’s, I reckon, or Singaporeans.

      Yes and No, The part you got correct was the threesome bit? The bit you got wrong, was the hooker bit, nobodies buying her ass, she is doing the buying. It’s a boy bar, not a regular girl go-go, Tony explained as Bear leant over and once again clicked on the video link.

      See this is how it works, all that hard earned money that these tourists give the girls goes on paying the bills, looking after the family and what’s left she uses to buy herself quality sex. He took another sip from his glass. She goes and buys a handsome Thai guy with pop star looks for short time or long time sex, whatever. 

      Bear laughed and added If Günter in Munich was to know how she spends his hard earned Euro’s that he’s sending her every month he’d have a fucking fit.

      Yep, and it’s not about the money it’s about the hard irrevocable fact, the proof of the inconvenient truth, that she doesn’t like sex with foreigners, or rather not the ones she’s meeting, it’s a job pure and simple, Stated Tony almost sadly.

      Yep sure is agreed Bear, Once you understand that you have the key to a happy existence here in the Land of Smiles. She doesn’t respect you, so there is no need to respect her, like Tony says no different than buying a Burger, it is just business.

      Hey come on I know a good few successful Thai foreigner relationships even marriages, that came about from the bar scene, that work. said Rob.

      Hey yeah, there is always the exception to any rule, replied Tony, gracefully conceding the point, he’d been over this with many a stupid ignorant greenhorn so many times that he knew only bad fucking experience can teach some folk. Some people just have to learn for themselves, they will not take a telling.

      Bear though, was not so diplomatic or jaded by the subject. Yeah but for every successful one you can show me I can show you one hundred fucked up ones, and I mean fucked up train crash relationships that came out of the bar scene. He shook his head despondently, as if this pained him. I mean it; the weight of evidence says it just doesn’t work. Only a fool or fucking masochists would want to even try. Said Bear Look at that little horny whore that was sitting on my lap a few minutes ago, he turned to point her out but she was long gone. There she was rubbing my dick pleading with me to take her upstairs and fuck her good, give her a head start on the day, with some money in her purse. He swirled his bottle of beer, and leaned forward towards Rob, She has two maybe three guys send her money each month, ten to forty thousand Baht they send her, each, not all together. She has been married twice before, to a Swiss guy, and an English guy, neither worked out; do you want to know why? Well where is she now, let’s ask her?

      Rob looked over towards where Bear had been sitting, and saw that the bar was empty in that area. He scanned the bar and the booths, but they were dark and impenetrable from this distance. Therefore, he took the question to be rhetorical and ignored it. He took another swig from his beer and waved over one of the bargirls milling about at a loose end, and instead ordered more drinks and the bill."

      Ok, Tony, Bear in case you guys think of something or you hear anything here’s my card it has my Thai mobile number on it. Rob offered Tony the card with a new Thai mobile SIM number neatly printed on it.

      Sure no problem, look here’s my business card, email me those links so that I can check them out some more, I might be able to come up with something, said Tony passing over to Rob a business card.

      Rob paid his bill at the bar, leaving the barmaid a tip, but she ignored it. He turned to go with a wave to Wally who was still hustling at pool with anyone daft enough to offer him a game. Rob waved over towards the booth were Tony and Bear remained nursing new drinks that he had sent over. Bear smiled and raised his glass, and nodded over to something behind Rob. Rob turned in time to catch the girl, - the one who had been on Bears lap earlier - slip out of the shadows of a booth; she was spitting something into her cupped hand as she went. She giggled as she headed for the bathrooms, the other bargirls shrieked with laughter.

      ***

      Rob left the Bar soon after, and headed back to the hotel, he was in no hurry but decided to catch the Skytrain even though it was only one stop to his hotel in Nana district. Tony watched Rob leave, and when Bear took his leave and returned to his favourite spot at the far end of the bar, Tony had sidled up and perched himself alongside Wally.

      That’s some strange shit your mate is receiving, someone is really trying to mind fuck him said Tony, as Wally took a drink from his beer. The pool cue now rested idly beside him propped up against his barstool.

      Yeah well maybe not so strange, I wasn’t joking when I said to him, that I thought he was dead, replied Wally I genuinely believed him to be, he was mixed up in some bloody strange goings on. Wally took a pull of his beer and continued, Started out just a regular guy, with a liking for occasionally acting the goat, you know the Viagra stunt, but soon he started to get money problems, the usual shit. He considered for a moment, as if remembering, getting his facts in order. No longer tipping big, taking the girls upstairs, and buying import foreign beers, now it was small tips and local beer, he remembered something, shit one time I had to warn him about fucking the girls in the toilets. He was trying to get out of paying the bar fines or for the room. Anyway he was then off the beer altogether and only drinking Thai whisky, money goes a lot further that way, you know that Tony.

      Sure does, sensible man I’d say replied Tony ignoring the barb. So how come I’ve never heard of this guy, or seen him around?

      Must have been here ten years back Tony, maybe you were back in the States at the time, eh?

      Hmm maybe, seem like I didn’t miss much. For all that he seems pretty clueless,

      Ah well maybe you didn’t, but the clueless bit, that’s a matter of opinion, I think the jury is still out on that one.

      No, all I’m saying is he sounds like a real newbie to me, needs to be shown the ropes.

      I’m surprised at that. You see here’s the funny thing, he had a beautiful girlfriend, half Thai, half European, not a fucking peasant girl doing boom boom for Baht, an educated Thai girl whose lived and worked abroad, with him I think. Anyway, as his luck slides, she is seen one night working the door at one of the bars in Soi Cowboy, Suzie Wong’s or something like that it doesn’t matter but she’s working. Sure enough a few days later he seems suddenly to come into money again, the rumour mill has it he is pimping her. But that’s neither here nor there in Bangkok as you well know. Wally said and Tony sipping his whisky nodded in complete agreement.

      So this wide eyed nonsense is just an act?

      Maybe, you see that’s not all though he is now boasting about making a movie, he has met some yank film director, nothing big, but he has got into a project with this guy and its Thai financed, so he has hit the fucking jackpot. Moves out of his hovel of an apartment and takes up residence in the service apartments, Centre Park or somewhere, I don’t remember which, but 5 Star I remember that. He’s now back to his best or worst, depending on opinion, in here every day glugging the drink back, and fucking the girls. Then one day he just disappears. Just disappears into thin air. His girlfriend calls me every day for about 3 months to see if I have heard from him, he doesn’t answer emails or his mobile, he just disappeared. Gradually she stopped calling, must have just accepted that he wasn’t coming back. Wally sighed, But the one thing that keeps playing on my mind was the girl, his girlfriend, because you know what, at first she was searching for him everywhere, and I mean every day, and she was fucking terrified.

      ***

      Rob entered the hotel room and collapsed onto the bed. He was tired now, what with the jet lag and the early morning beers, were giving him a mild headache, he needed to sleep. It was a fitful, feverish sleep, where dreams of street vendors, coyote dancers and cute gay girls agitated and tormented him throughout the afternoon. He woke with a start, the image still fresh in his mind, he was picturing the street scene with the food vendors stall and plastic tables and seats, the girls lazily eating and drinking, in the background a bright new poster for an island getaway resort. He rose and with relief found the rucksack at the foot of the bed he struggled to free the laptop from the bag and booted it up, it was on hibernate so it sprung to life immediately. He found the video of the street scene, centered on the food vendors and their customers he was looking for the best view of the background, the huge advertisement. He hit pause, he examined the advertisement hoarding behind the plastic tables and chairs, around

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