Not Quite Occam’s Sharp Razor
Chapter 27
It was getting late and the crowds had thinned to the point where some of the vendors, along with a few noodle carts, were closing their booths and stalls for the night, especially those who’d already made their nut. I continued to walk, look and mingle with the others who planned to stay until closing. I liked being among the looky-loos, finding it be a mindless, relaxing experience.
Earlier, I’d purchased a beautiful silk, hand embroidered clutch purse from two Hmong ladies sitting on the sidewalk. It clashed with my leisure suit so I didn’t know what to do with it or why I bought it in the first place. Perhaps I felt sorry for the women knowing a little bit about their tribe’s troubled history. I didn’t have a significant other to give it to, but maybe give it as a small gift to Angie after we finished the case or it finished us. I sincerely hoped for the former, rather than the latter outcome. I didn’t think Chi would appreciate it. Maybe one of the switchblade knives I’d noticed at one of the stalls would be more manly and appropriate. However, I couldn’t be that certain with all the gender bending going on in Thailand. Mai pen rai, as they often said here: it doesn’t matter.
I took a seat at a table outside the Wa Wa coffee shop and ordered a Grande, mocha frappe with one pump mocha, no whip. I was trying to watch my figure these days. Black Canyon and Wa Wa were my favorite coffee chains in Thailand; as good as Starbucks and a hell of a lot cheaper. As I sipped the coffee, I watched people and tried to guess the nationalities of the tourists walking by my table. Some, like the Japanese, were easily identifiable by their selfie sticks and the small, digital cameras affixed to them. Their language also gave them away. Hi, I said to a couple of passersby and got a funny look in return. Others were more difficult to peg, especially the Europeans. The Americans were easy since they tended to be loud and obnoxious—and ugly. No other nationality could trump them for their lack of social grace and rudeness.
I then felt the unmistakable shape of a gun barrel pressed against the back of my neck. I slowly and gingerly placed my frappe on the table and waited to see what came next. I had a pretty good idea. It must be Ron Johnston, an especially ugly American. I didn’t think it was a social call by any stretch of my imagination. I was going to die, if he had his way with me, and I didn’t believe it would be a pleasant way to go.
“Good evening special agent Avery. Nice to see you again,” he laughed. “Remember what I said about the powers of karma and kismet? Well, it seems we’ve met again after all. Don’t move or you’ll be dead before your body hits the sidewalk.”
I didn’t and he sat down across from me. He ordered a latte while holding his gun out of sight below the table.
My blood pressure spiked just thinking what he’d done to poor Denny. I hoped I could keep a cool head and hold my rage. It’d be difficult because the very sight of him made my blood boil over. And I didn’t want to spill any, at least mine.
“Okay Ron, what’s going on? The gun in the back of my neck wasn’t a cordial gesture between law enforcement colleagues; threatening and intimidating yes, cordial no.”
“Richard, don’t play dumb with me. You know your friend’s dead and I killed him. The authorities will know the same soon and come after me, but I don’t plan to stick around Thailand much longer.”
“So you’re making a confession of a crime to another federal agent? Let me pull out my notepad so you can scribble it down for the record so there’s no misunderstanding.”
Ron laughed at my naively, implausible suggestion and took a swig of latte to wash it down. He almost choked to death on it and that would have suited me just fine if he had.
Clearing his throat, he said “Oh, agent Avery that was funny. Denny mentioned you had a quirky sense of humor for a dreary, federal bureaucrat. No, I’m not worried about telling you about my sins because it doesn’t matter as you’ll never live to tell the tale.”
“Sounds like a threat, Ron,” trying to figure out my next step and perhaps last move. I thought I might literally turn the table on him, but hesitated since it might backfire and be a serious threat to my mortality.
“Nope, it’s just a promise as the pundits like to say.”
“By the way, I got no pleasure from killing Denny. He was my friend too, believe it or not. I did what I had to do, just a matter of business and no more.”
I bridled at hearing his self-serving, smarmy comment. I wanted to reach across the table and choke the living daylights out of the smug bastard.
Ron looked first and I noticed shortly thereafter. A drop-dead, hot woman was walking past our table and Ron had a hard time not taking a sneak peek. She seemed to bring out the animal magnetism in men who looked her way.
As Angie passed Ron, she did a quick about face, deftly removing a large straightedge razor from her bra as she did and slashed Ron’s throat from ear to ear. I saw the whole thing, but Ron couldn’t see what was coming. I suspected he wouldn’t have wanted to either given what was about to happen.
Blood from his jugulars spurted out of the enlarged opening at his throat, puddling on the table and onto Ron’s shirt and trousers. My newly cleaned, leisure jacket caught a fair amount of the blowback too. Standing behind Ron, Angie’s dress remained pristine.
Chi appeared from behind Angie and told us both to immediately leave the area. He’d handle things with the cops when they arrived. We took his advice and skedaddled, running up one soi after another until we were well clear of the scene. Angie had trouble keeping up because of her stilettos, the shoe variety in this instance.
We all met a couple of hours later at my hotel room. I was still keyed up and took a miniature Seagram’s bottle and 7-Up from the mini bar to calm my nerves. I had a second one because I was a two-fisted drinker during spirited times like this.
While pleased with the outcome, I wondered why they had followed me to the market. I didn’t know they’d planned to, but glad they did. They’d saved my life and I now owed them big time for their diligence or prescience.
“It was obvious to us your life was in danger from this man,” Angie spoke. “He’d killed your friend and it seemed you would be next. It was only a logical conclusion on our parts. He was eliminating the people aware of his dirty business. So, Chi and I pressed our watchers to expand the search for him throughout all of Nong Khai. That’s all there was to it, Khun Avery.”
“I received a call from one of our watchers earlier this evening reporting Johnston had been spotted at the market,” Chi said. “Angie and I decided to investigate. We didn’t believe he was shopping for Thai handicrafts and it turned out we guessed right. We observed Johnston discreetly place a gun to your head and knew you were in big trouble. It was Angie’s idea to use her razor to save you from imminent harm.”
“Wow! That was a helluva close shave Angie. I thank you both for saving my life. I suspect Ron would have forced me at gunpoint to walk to a deserted alleyway in order to put a bullet through my brain. That’s the way I’d do it, theoretically speaking of course.”
“It is our privilege and honor sir,” Chi mentioned. “Don’t worry about the incident tonight. My incredibly, inept friends on the force will ensure the matter is handled discreetly. Perhaps it was a drug deal gone wrong or a cuckolded husband confronting his wife’s lover. Who knows? Regardless, Mr. Johnston will soon be revealed as the murderer of our good friend Dennis Williams. We have avenged his honor and restored some balance to the Buddhist, karmic forces. We should be pleased, rather than ashamed, for our work tonight.”
Sometimes those who served and protected dodged a bullet with their name on it to live another day, a much less painful experience than biting one.