Thai Shorts Read online

  Barry was slumped in the brown leather armchair in the lounge. He was casually dressed in shorts and a tee-shirt. His eyes were open but he was dead. A single stab wound to the neck. The body and the chair and the floor around it were covered in congealed blood. The third finger of his left hand had been cut off.

  “Oh my Buddha!” said Yim.

  “Sgt. Dek, get a patrol here as quick as you can to protect the crime scene and get patrols to go to the other two addresses. They’ll get there before we can.”

  Yim spoke on his police radio and gave orders to the police patrols. Ping had a look around the house, being careful not to disturb the crime scene. There was a laptop on the dining room table. It was turned off. There was no sign of a forced entry before the detectives had forced their way inside and nothing looked to have been taken from the house, other than the dead man’s finger.

  After ten minutes a patrol car arrived at the scene and Sgt. Dek told the officers to stay outside the house until forensics arrived. His radio spurted into life and a uniformed patrol confirmed that they were with Alan Lowe, AKA Low Down & Dangerous, at his address and they asked what they were supposed to tell him.

  “Just stay with him until we get there,” instructed Yim. He then called the other patrol, but they were stuck in traffic and estimated that they were still 10 or 15 minutes away from the address of Stephen Davis, AKA Sniper Steve.

  “Ma’am, we are only five minutes away from this address. We can make it before the patrol does.”

  Ping nodded and they jumped into the car. Five minutes later they were at another big rented house in a gated complex with a communal swimming pool and gym. A BMW was parked in the drive and neighbours told them that they had not seen Stephen Davis since yesterday afternoon. They forced the front door and found his body lying on the kitchen floor. Two coffee cups of cold coffee were on top of the unit next to the toaster. The kitchen floor was covered with his blood. A single stab wound to the neck and the third finger of the left hand was missing. They called in the forensics and some of the detectives from the murder squad.

  “Four murders in three days,” said Yim, stating the obvious.

  “Come on Sgt. Dek. We need to speak to Alan Lowe. He is our only living witness.”

  Ping and Yim left the uniform patrol to guard the crime scene and await the detectives and the forensic team. They drove to the other side of the city to the home of Alan Lowe. It was another of the new build luxury apartment blocks.

  “It seems that all our farang have big money,” said Yim, as he flashed his ID to the security guard on the gate and drove into the complex.

  Alan Lowe was a 50 year old, born in Wales, but lived most of his life in London. He was a retired accountant and had been living in Pattaya for the last three years. His ginger hair was thick and combed back. He had green eyes and red rosy cheeks. They were rosy because of his high blood pressure and the fact that he was a couple of stone over weight, which was due to his diet of beer and burgers. He sat on the expensive looking sofa and was visibly shaking. He looked in a state of shock. A uniformed officer was standing over him. The officer saluted Ping and Yim as they walked into the apartment.

  “The policeman said that somebody is going to kill me!” said Lowe sounding as if he was about to start crying.

  Ping shot a look at the police officer and he sheepishly bowed his head and went to stand at the front door to the apartment.

  “Am I in danger?” asked Lowe looking up at the two detectives for the first time.

  “We don’t know yet. That is why we are here. We need to talk to you. You play a game online called Black Ops as part of a team called The Pattaya Ex-pats. I have to tell you Mr. Lowe that all the other member of your team have been murdered over the last two days and we believe they were killed by the same killer. You are the only one left alive.” Ping paused to gauge his response.

  “I think the killer was here last night. When I came home at about 9:00pm all the lights along the landing had been smashed and the corridor was in darkness. I didn’t really think anything about it but, as I got to my front door, I don’t know if I heard something, but I definitely sensed that somebody was on the landing with me, I shouted out ‘I know you are here’ and I got into my apartment as quick as I could. This morning the caretaker replaced all the smashed light bulbs. Do you think the killer was after me last night?”

  “It’s possible.” Ping spoke to Yim in Thai and told him to check with the caretaker about the smashed lights. Yim left the room.

  “Oh my God! So I am in danger. How did they die, am I allowed to ask that?”

  “They were all killed by a single stab wound to the neck from behind with an army combat knife. We believe that they all knew their killer.”

  “Do I know him?”

  “Yes. We believe that you probably do. We think that the killings are all linked to this game Black Ops. That seems to be the only thing that links the victims.

  “Are you going to be able to protect me?”

  “Yes, Mr. Lowe, we are. I need you to come down to the police station with us so we can interview you on tape.”

  “Am I arrested?”

  “No. We need to interview you as a witness, but we need it on tape. It is very important that we don’t miss anything. You may be the only person alive that can help us solve these murders and we need to arrange round the clock security for you until we catch the killer.”

  Yim came back into the room and nodded a confirmation to Ping.

  “Why would anyone want to kill us? It was just a game.”

  Ping and Yim made no response.

  “Do you want me to come with you now?”

  “Yes please and we will need to take your computer. We need to examine it.”

  “Oh! There might be some things on there that I don’t want you to see?”

  “Don’t worry, we are only interested in catching a serial killer,” said Yim.

  Alan Lowe got up off the sofa and went into the bedroom to change. Ping looked around the lounge. There was a collection of miniature bottles in two glass cabinets that hung on the wall. Another glass display cabinet housed a collection of exotic butterflies. The colours of their wings were dazzling and underneath each butterfly was a tiny printed label giving the creatures name and origin.

  “You have some nice collections,” said Yim, when Alan Lowe walked back into the room.

  “Yes, I’m a bit of a kleptomaniac. But I hate that word. I just like to collect beautiful or interesting things. People think I’m a bit nerdy, but at least I have never been a train spotter!”

  They took Alan back to the police station. Traffic was slow and it took some time. There was little conversation in the car. Ping spoke only in Thai to Yim and Alan looked out of the window at the many beautiful women who walked the streets of Pattaya.

  The witness interview room was only slightly more comfortable than the interview rooms used to interview prisoners and suspects, but at least there were no bars on the windows.

  Yim placed three tapes into the tape machine and pressed the record button. There was a long bleep that went on for five seconds and then it was recording. Ping introduced herself and Detective Sgt. Dek and then asked Alan Lowe to introduce himself for the purpose of the tape. Ping stated the time and date and the fact that the interview was being recorded at the police station.

  “Mr. Lowe, we are looking for a serial killer who has so far murdered four members of the Pattaya Ex-pats. This is a group of men living in Pattaya who play a war game online called ‘Black-Ops’. You are the fifth member of this group. We believe that you may know who the killer is and we want you to think very carefully and tell us everything that you know. Take your time.”

  “I don’t really know what to tell you.” Alan Lowe puffed out his cheeks and blew. “I don’t think
I have any enemies and I didn’t really know the other men who were in Pattaya Ex-pats. Well, I knew their nicknames online and we played Black-Ops quite a lot. Sometimes there is a bit of banter between us and between us and whoever we are playing against on any particular day, but nothing is ever said that would make anyone want to kill anyone. It’s just a game. Just a bit of fun.”

  “Did you ever meet any of the other members of your team away from the internet?” asked Yim.

  “No. We all chatted amongst ourselves online but it was just an online thing. From the general chit-chat I gathered that we all lived in Pattaya and we had all had successful business lives before we retired. Basically we swapped stories about girls and bars, but mostly we just tried to kill our opponents and not get shot ourselves. We talked tactics and shouted out warnings to each other if we saw one of the enemy. The game was just a game, but we took it seriously when we played. We were one of the better teams. We didn’t lose very often.”

  “So you never met these other people in real life or spoke on the phone or passed any private information to each other?” asked Ping.

  “No, never. There was just no need. It just didn’t arise. I think it suited all of us just to meet up online and play the game.”

  “Was there any outsider who may have approached the group or approached any of you as individuals?”

  “Well I don’t know about the others. I don’t think anybody ever said anything about anything like that happening. As for myself, I can tell you that nobody ever approached me. We played some Russian teams from time to time and they seemed to take it a lot more seriously than we did. I think they were all Russians who also lived in Pattaya. Have you spoken to any of them?”

  Ping and Yim ignored the question.

  “Can you think of any reason whatsoever why someone would want to kill any members of your team?”

  “Well no, I can’t. Unless we upset somebody. But they would have to be crackers to actually want to kill us in real life. It’s just a game for Christ’s sake!”

  “Tell us about last night when you got home,” prompted Ping.

  “I already told you. I was at home and decided to go to get some milk and orange juice from the Seven Eleven shop at the end of the soi. I was only gone 10 or 15 minutes. When I got back I took the lift up to my floor and when I stepped out of the lift all the corridor was in darkness. I pressed the light switch next to the lift in case somebody had turned the lights off but they didn’t come back on and when I walked towards my apartment I stepped on broken glass. The light bulbs along the landing had all been smashed. I was a bit scared, because it had never happened before. They are all good people who live in my complex. I sort of sensed that somebody was lurking in the darkness or I may have heard a sound , I’m not really sure, but I thought I was going to be mugged so I shouted out “I know you are there,” or something like that. I can’t remember the exact words now, but anyway, nobody was there and I got into my apartment as quick as I could. I didn’t think about it again until your policemen turned up and told me that somebody was going to kill me. If the whole business with the landing lights hadn’t happened I would have thought that they were joking or mistaken!”

  “Okay, Mr. Lowe. We’ll get a patrol to take you home.”

  “I don’t want to go home. I don’t think I’m safe here anymore. I think I’m going to sell the apartment and move to Laos or Vietnam or somewhere.”

  “Well, that is up to you Mr. Lowe. We will keep uniformed officers outside your apartment and outside the apartment complex. They will escort you anywhere you want to go when you want to go outside your apartment.”

  “When can I have my laptop back?”

  “When we are finished with it.”

  “You can keep it. I don’t think I want to wait around. I’ll go back to the apartment and pack and then one of your patrols can take me to the airport. I can fly up to Udon Thani and stay with a friend up there for a few days until I sort out a visa for another country.”

  “We will still need to contact you Mr. Lowe. I think it is better if you stay local.”

  “No, I’m scared. You can ring me if you need any more information. You already have my phone number.”

  “We have two phone numbers for you,” said Ping. “I saw another phone on your dining room table and took the liberty of noting down that number as well.”

  Alan eyed Ping suspiciously.

  “Okay, well you can ring me if you need anything else. Can I go now?”

  “Yes. Sgt. Dek will take you out to a patrol car so somebody can take you home.”

  Yim escorted Alan Lowe outside to a waiting patrol car and met up with Ping again. She was sitting at the operations desk in the murder squad room.

  “What now ma’am?” he said, as he sat in the chair next to her.

  “What did you think of Alan Lowe, Sgt. Dek?”

  “I don’t know really. I thought he was over scared when we first saw him and over confident at the end.”

  “Me too. I think he was acting. Did you see the look in his eye when I told him we had a second phone number for him?”

  “Yes. He didn’t like it.”

  “And that second phone was just a cheap pay as you go. Not like the smart phone that he carried on him.”

  “Well, if he is going up to Udon Thani for a few days, then we have to take a closer look at him quickly before he sorts out a visa for somewhere else.”

  “He is not going to Udon Thani. He is going to leave the country. He knows a lot more than he is telling us. Put a tail on him and get the geeks to check out all the victims’ phone accounts. I want their full history and I want to see if they ever called Alan Lowe or if he ever called them. Check everyone’s bank account histories too while you are at it.”

  “Do you think Alan Lowe is the murderer?”

  “I don’t know yet, but I think he is a liar.”

  “Yes ma’am.” Sgt. Dek went to get some action on the inspector’s requests.

  Two hours later Sgt. Dek got a call to say that Alan Lowe was on his way to Bangkok airport, but the taxi had turned off the motorway towards Bang Na and the tail had lost him. He reported it to Ping.

  “Well, tell them to find him again quick, Sgt. Dek.”

  Half an hour after that he got another call from the backroom boys who were checking telephone and bank account details. Yim made notes of the conversation and went to speak to Ping.

  “Ma’am, you were right. Alan Lowe knew all the victims a lot better than he would have us believe. There is a series of phone calls to and from the second phone that you found on his dining room table over several weeks with all the victims and there is something else!”

  “What Sgt. Dek?”

  “All the victims transferred big amounts of money into a Siam Commercial Bank account over the last week. And I mean big amounts. Around twenty million baht each. It’s a business account for some company called Siam Investments. The company doesn’t exist. It’s just a name that was registered and it was registered by our friend Mr. Alan Lowe. He emptied the account two days ago.”

  “Get Mr. Lowe arrested as soon as he gets to the airport. I don’t want him getting on any flights, and get a warrant. We are going to search his apartment.”

  “Yes ma’am.”

  They forced the front door to the apartment. One of the police officers outside the apartment had told them that Alan Lowe left carrying just one suitcase and a brief case, but it didn’t look as if he had taken any clothes from the apartment. Ping guessed that the suit case must be full of stolen money. They searched the apartment. The only thing they found of interest and evidential value was in the built in wardrobe. It was a glass display case similar to the ones hanging on the lounge wall that displayed the miniature bottles. The only difference was that this one was displaying fo
ur fingers in bottles of preservative - the four missing fingers of the murdered victims.

  Sgt. Dek’s mobile started to ring and he answered it. He nodded several times before he closed the phone and turned towards Ping.

  “Ma’am, it’s bad news. They have found the taxi. The taxi driver is dead. A single stab wound to the neck from behind.”

  “Third finger left hand?”

  “It’s been cut off and taken. Do you want me to put more men on the airport?”

  “No. Not now Sergeant. He isn’t going to the airport, but you can put an alert out to all airports, seaports and border crossings for Mr. Lowe.”

  “What are we going to do now, ma’am?”

  “We are going back to the police station. We can trim the murder squad down to a skeleton staff, just enough people to pull all the evidence together and tie up the forensics and complete a prosecution file. I’m going to go to the gym and have a good work out.”

  “What about Alan Lowe?”

  “Circulate him as wanted and notify Interpol. There is nothing else we can do until he turns up again somewhere.”