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The 38 Million Dollar Smile
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Текст книги "The 38 Million Dollar Smile "


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CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

The compound where we took refuge in Hua Hin – which,

Pugh explained, was spelled Hua Hin but pronounced Wah-

HEEN – was a few miles south of the town center near

Monkey Mountain. This was a high hill overlooking the Gulf of

Thailand where monkeys frolicked on the grounds of an old

temple. Pugh suggested that Timmy and I have a look while we

were in the vicinity. But he said not to get too close to the

greedy and always-quarreling monkeys, a few of whom were

deceased former officials from the Thaksin Shinawatra

administration.

Timmy said, “Do you really believe that’s true?”

“Of course,” Pugh said. “This is known.”

The compound, a quarter mile off the main road and a few

hundred yards from the beach, was owned by an anti-Samak,

anti-Thaksin businessman friend of Pugh’s who owned about

fifty 7-Eleven franchises and a Hua Hin hotel that catered to

German tour groups and, Pugh said, served the greasiest

schnitzel south of Bangkok.

Pugh’s friend, Sila Chusuk, was vacationing with his family

in Switzerland and we had the run of his two commodious

guesthouses. These were rambling, tile-roofed stucco structures

with big louvered windows that were sealed shut now for the

hot season and with central air-conditioning keeping everything

crisp. There was a pool in the palm-fringed flower gardens at

the back of the walled compound, with fuchsia blossoms

floating in it the color of Kawee’s toenails.

We had stopped in town to buy some light clothes for

Timmy and Kawee – Pugh said we would not be calling on

Jack and Jackie, so beachwear would do – and some toiletries,

and of course, food. The Thais had missed their lunch, so a

stop was made out on the main road to pick up soup and rice.

As soon as we arrived at the compound, Pugh and his crew

served up the take-out savories and went at them. Nobody had

188 Richard Stevenson

a lot to say. They were all just happy to be alive and enjoying

another good meal. The same was true of Timmy, Kawee and

me – and presumably Griswold, although he had precious few

words to offer any of us.

Upstairs, Timmy and I shared a room, Pugh was next door,

then Kawee and Nitrate, then Griswold, Egg and Ek. Griswold

bore constant watching, Pugh and I agreed. While Timmy took

a long shower, I noted on my cell phone that Bob Chicarelli had

called from Albany during the rescue while I had left my phone

in the van. It was just past four in the afternoon in Thailand,

predawn in the eastern United States. I returned the call, but

Chicarelli didn’t answer and I guessed he was asleep. I left a

message, saying we had rescued Timmy and Kawee from the

kidnappers, that Griswold was with us, and we were in hiding

until some loose ends got tied up. I didn’t mention that the

loose ends included a Thai police general who was intent on

blowing all our brains out. For reasons I couldn’t quite

articulate to myself, I hesitated before asking Chicarelli to notify Ellen and Bill Griswold that their family member Gary was now

safe and sound. But they had to be told – originally I had been

hired to find him, after all – so I told Chicarelli to inform the Griswolds we had Gary with us but that there were still plenty

of nettlesome unanswered questions as to his past activities and future intentions.

After Timmy’s shower and then mine, we heard a

commotion outside our room and went out to find Griswold

throwing a hissy fit at Pugh.

“Although I don’t object to your men watching over me to

see that I don’t bolt,” Griswold was saying, “you have to

understand that I am not going to run off. What I do object to is their listening in on all of my telephone conversations and —

good grief! really! – taking notes on whom I speak with and

what I say. You are not doing yourself or me any favors by

butting in this way, Rufus, and I am telling you that it is a great big pain in the neck.”

Pugh said, “Khun Gary. Do you have secrets from us? We

are your friends.”

THE 38 MILLION DOLLAR SMILE 189

“It’s not a question of secrets, Rufus. There are no great

secrets on my part. It is a matter of simple privacy. I must be in touch with business associates to complete the Sayadaw U

project, and some of this involves sensitive information and

delicate negotiations involving people who would not be at all

pleased to be eavesdropped on.”

“I’m sorry you consider our watchfulness intrusive. We are

all in this together, after all. When I say that, I don’t mean the part about your worthy project. I mean the part about keeping

you from being hurled from a high place, as well as the part

about keeping your head from being made to explode. We do

need to be all on the same page in that regard, Khun Gary. So I

hope you will indulge us in this small way and let us keep track of your activities in a manner consistent with personal security professional standards.”

“Rufus, you’re quite the bullshit artist. Did anyone ever tell

you that?”

“Let me think.”

I said, “Griswold, I, for one, don’t trust you at all. You have

a track record of flying off the rails and causing all kinds of

ridiculous trouble, and you are definitely going to be monitored.

So get used to it.”

“I’m a little unclear,” Griswold said, “exactly what your

current role is here, Strachey. As I recall, didn’t my sister-in-law shit-can you? I think you told me that yourself. Hence, your

extortionate request for fifty thousand dollars to underwrite

what looks to me increasingly like a mere seaside vacation.”

Now Timmy spoke up. “Well, it certainly has not been any

kind of sun ’n’ sand holiday for me, Gary. Or haven’t you

noticed that?”

“Well, I am sorry about your being kidnapped. Really, I am.

It must have been a horrible ordeal. But the fact is, Timothy,

you did not need to come to Thailand in the first place, and I

can’t imagine what you thought you were getting yourself into.

Surely you must have done enough research to know of the violently inclined criminal elements in Thailand and about the

190 Richard Stevenson

corrupt police forces. Or didn’t your friend Donald inform you

about any of that?”

Timmy snorted with what could have been amusement.

“What’s so funny, Timothy? And you know, you both are

now free to leave Thailand at any time. Khun Rufus could drive

you over to the ferry terminal and put you on a boat for

Sihanoukville in Cambodia, and you could travel on to Phnom

Penh and be on your way out of Southeast Asia by this time

tomorrow. There’s really nothing holding you here as far as any

of the Griswolds are concerned. Am I right?”

Pugh said, “We’ve got your fifty K, Khun Gary. You hired

us to protect you until April twenty-seventh. Remember?”

Griswold bristled, but before he could tell us all to take the

fifty thousand dollars and shove it, I said, “Griswold, were you in Cambodia about two and a half weeks ago?”

“Yes, I was. Why?”

“What were you doing there?”

“Why do you ask? How would you even know that?”

“Elise Flanagan saw you.”

“That was Elise Flanagan. Oh God! I thought I saw her and she spotted me. At the Aranya Prathet border post. What the

hell was Elise doing entering Cambodia? She can barely find her

way from Key West to Homestead.”

“Elise was on her way to Angkor Wat with a tour group.

And you?”

“I was on my way back into Thailand on a visa run.”

“A what?”

“It’s hard for foreigners to obtain a long-term visa in

Thailand. The Thais like to be able to keep the worst of the

riffraff from overstaying their welcome in the Land of Smiles

– penniless ravers and druggies and notorious pedophiles and

so on. So in order to stay here, most farangs must have the

means to leave the country every three months and then reenter

with a new visa. It’s a kind of racket, actually. The government charges you for the visa, and airlines and tour operators make

THE 38 MILLION DOLLAR SMILE 191

out even better. Me, I just hop on a van at Ekamai, read for a

couple of hours, and then cross and recross the border. You

can do it really fast by paying an extra twelve dollars for VIP

treatment, so-called. That means the Thai operators stand in the visa queue for you and bribe the Cambodian immigration

officials for fast service. In hot weather like this, it’s a bargain.”

“Well, it’s the only way your friends in Key West knew you

were even alive,” I said. “They were hugely relieved, but

confused too. Anyway, what happened six months ago that sent

you careening into oblivion? It would certainly help us decide

what to do next if we had a clearer picture of what precipitated all this weird to-ing and fro-ing in the first place.”

Griswold’s look darkened, and he was about to say

something and then didn’t.

I went on, “You e-mailed Janice Romeo that you had had a

disturbing reading from a soothsayer. Was that Khun

Khunathip?”

Griswold nodded. “Yes. It was.”

“Janice says you told her that the seer predicted bloodshed

in your life, and he said that great sorrow was in store for

people close to you.”

Griswold grunted. “Well? Was he right, or wasn’t he?”

“And that’s why you disappeared? Because of this

astrological forecast?”

“No,” Griswold said. “Khun Khunathip’s reading was just

the beginning.”

“The beginning of what?”

“Of a chain of events that led eventually to the Sayadaw U

project.”

“You’re leaving some stuff out, it seems.”

“You bet I am.”

“Why?”

“It is very dark.”

“Enlighten us. It can only help.”

192 Richard Stevenson

“Not yet.”

“Okay, when?”

“April twenty-seventh.”

“That’s a week and a half away. Today is the fifteenth.”

“That’s right. One and five. That is six.”

“Unlucky six. Okay. What about tomorrow, the sixteenth.

That’s a one and a six. Which equals seven. Isn’t that better?”

“Better but not best.” He looked at Pugh. “Am I right,

Khun Rufus?”

“Right as rain,” Pugh said and gave me a look that said not

to worry, we would find a way to squeeze it out of him.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Timmy and I walked over to Monkey Mountain to watch the

sunset. A long concrete staircase led up to the temple atop the

hill. Most of the gray monkeys were swinging in the trees at the foot of the staircase next to the food stalls, or scampering

around on the ground gobbling up bits of food left by tourists.

One of the bigger monkeys was hissing and squawking at the

smaller ones and grabbing their food.

I said, “I’ll bet that guy was Prime Minister Thaksin’s

minister of defense.”

“Or head of his police.”

There were a few other farangs climbing the two hundred or

so steps, and a number of Thais. The Thais appeared to be

couples and small families who had come to pray or for an

outing with a view. We could see two men on motorcycles

stopped down below, but they didn’t seem to be paying any

attention to us.

As we approached the summit, Hua Hin was now visible to

the north, spreading westward from a long arc of sandy beach.

The high-rise hotels along the water and the green hills inland

gave the place a mini-Rio look, though instead of a huge cross

overlooking the town there was a Buddhist temple, and now we

were approaching it.

The place had the customary Buddha figure on a platform in

a cozy room, with candles flickering and floral and other

offerings below the altar. This gold-leafed Buddha was seated in the lotus position, palms pressed together in a wai, and he was

smiling in his serene way.

I said, “You go into a Christian church and an agonized

Jesus is stuck up on the wall looking like a bit player in a Wes Craven horror flick. You go into a Buddhist temple, and this

guy really gives you a feeling of peace. I like this better.”

194 Richard Stevenson

Though long-since lapsed from the Mother Church, Timmy

stiffened and gave me one of his looks. “If the Buddha had

been crucified by the Romans, he might not look so thrilled

with his circumstances either. But, lucky for him – and for

much of Southeast Asia – he was not.”

“True enough.”

“But I do share your deep good feelings about the Buddha,

Donald, and about Buddhism. Even if I don’t believe in

reincarnation, or in a system of rewards for good behavior that

feels to me as if it’s organized a little too much like the Delta SkyMiles program – still, Buddhism is so wonderfully

enveloping with its philosophy of acceptance and tolerance, and

its rejection of violence, and its aesthetic of simplicity. I’m so glad I came to Thailand – even though I came closer to dying

here than I ever thought I would at this stage of my life.”

We walked over to the parapet, where the setting sun was

putting on its gaudy show over the hills to the west.

“I was so afraid for you,” I said. “Pugh thought we could

rescue you, but he wasn’t sure we could do it in time. And after what Yodying’s goons did to Geoff Pringle and to Khun

Khunathip, we knew what a cold-blooded bunch they are. It

was your presence of mind, really, and the Millpond reference,

that made the rescue possible.”

“Well, it was your presence of mind to pick up on the hint

that saved Kawee and me. As soon as I understood that you

had heard me, I knew we were going to be okay.”

“Really? I wasn’t all that confident.”

“I told Kawee that you had the information that would free

us, and he said yes, he could tell that you were a man who was

up to the job because you reminded him of a kind of gay Bruce

Wayne.”

“That’s a bit confusing.”

“Anyway, he really was prepared to accept whatever his fate

might turn out to be. He said he had long ago accepted that

suffering was central to being human, and also why should he

be afraid of anything he couldn’t control? His calm in the face

THE 38 MILLION DOLLAR SMILE 195

of danger was really amazing. And while I didn’t follow all of

his logic, I saw how his belief in an ongoing cosmic continuum

of life gave him strength and confidence, and just being tied up in the same room with Kawee gave me strength and confidence,

too.”

“So those goons didn’t… You know…beat you or

anything?”

“No, they didn’t. And they fed us decently, too. I can’t really

complain about our treatment. Except for having to crap in a

bucket. I wasn’t crazy about that.”

“But the heat and the tedium must have been pretty

grueling. What did you and Kawee find to occupy yourselves

with in that room for a day and a half?”

“Oh, we just fucked and whatnot.”

“I wondered about that.”

“I thought you might, after that Paradisio episode. No,

really, what we did was, we basically just talked about how

much we liked our lives and how lucky we had been with so

many things in our lives up till that point. Except for one thing, in Kawee’s case. When he was seventeen, he had a boyfriend

back in his village who died of malaria. The kid was Burmese

and went home to visit his family in Shan state and got sick.

Burma has no health care system to speak of, and the guy was

too weak to make it back to Thailand, and he just died. Kawee

says this guy, Nonkie, was his great love. Some day, Kawee told

me, he wants to visit Shan state, because a Burmese friend who

was there told him that Nonkie’s ghost had been asking people

traveling to Thailand to find Kawee and invite him to come

over. Kawee said he would have gone by now, but it’s hard to

get a visa. And anyway once you’re inside Myanmar the military

government could grab you and put you on some forced-labor

road-building project. He wants to see Nonkie’s ghost, but he

doesn’t want to get trapped inside that sad country.”

The sun was gone now, but the entire western sky was

aflame over southern Thailand and Lower Burma and the

Andaman Sea beyond.

196 Richard Stevenson

I said, “Has Kawee seen ghosts before? He might be

disappointed. I know Thais believe in them, but I’ve never

actually met a Thai who has run into a ghost.”

“Kawee told me about his uncle who was in the hospital

with several cracked ribs after he fell off a logging elephant. The doctor showed the family the uncle’s X-ray, and they all saw his phee on it. That’s his ghost.”

“I wonder if Griswold believes in ghosts. He seems to be a

genuine convert to most of the bigger ideas here, both Buddhist

and the old superstitions like astrology and numerology that got dragged along when Buddhism spread eastward from India.”

“But if in a previous life Griswold was Thai himself,”

Timmy said, “and was Buddhist, then he’s not really a convert.

The unfortunate diversion from his true path was his being

born to Max and Bertha Griswold in Albany. He must have

done something really nasty way back when to have been

karmically punished by ending up for a while in the steel

business in Albany. Oh, you know what? There’s something

Kawee said that might help explain it.”

“What?”

“Kawee said Griswold once told him that somebody else in

his family had committed a very great sin. It was something so

terrible that Griswold himself would have to help compensate

for it with offerings and with meritorious works in order to

protect his soul and the souls of family members.”

I said, “I don’t think that in Buddhism you can be punished

by being born into the wrong family on account of sins that that family hasn’t even committed yet at the time of your birth.

Buddhism is fairer than that, more morally logical.”

“But what if the sin was committed before you were born?

By your parents or grandparents.”

“There’s only one way to figure this out. We have to ask

Griswold. It may be part of what set him spiraling off into la-la land six months ago – hiding out and plotting whatever it is

he’s plotting.”

THE 38 MILLION DOLLAR SMILE 197

“You’re just going to ask him about it outright? Good luck

with that.”

“I realize I may have to wait until April twenty-seventh.”

“Donald, that’s twelve days from now. I have a feeling

you’re going to have to get a handle on all this well before then.

Surely General Yodying isn’t so dumb and incompetent that he

won’t track us down here. And if he does, we might not be so

deft and clever and lucky the next time.”

“True. But I’m sure Pugh has a Plan B and a Plan C and a

Plan D. It’s how he thinks. To be on the safe side, though,

maybe you should head home, Timothy. I’m sure Pugh could

get you over to Cambodia, and you could fly home from

Phnom Penh, just like Griswold said.”

Timmy looked back at the temple. A couple of elderly

monks in their orange robes were walking inside followed by

three young novices. The gold leaf on one of the smaller

Buddha images in an outside alcove was glowing now in the last

tangerine-colored light, and the sea beyond looked so soft that

you could float out over it, suspended by particles of light, and drift down for a swim and then have a nice green curry along

the beach.

Timmy said, “I may not make it to magical April twenty-

seventh. But for now, I want to stick around. Despite what

happened to me, I like this place.”

“Me too,” I said. “All we have to do to really enjoy Thailand

is keep from being hurled into our next lives prematurely.”

“Okay, let’s do it that way, if we can. Survive first, and then

take on whatever pleasant features Thailand has to offer next.”

“Deal.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

The two motorcycle guys at the foot of Monkey Mountain

were not assassins. They were moto-taxi drivers, and since it

was dark now Timmy and I hired them to take us back to the

compound. My phone rang just as we reached the house, and it

was Bob Chicarelli.

“Can you hear me, Strachey?”

“Perfectly.”

“Good, because you’ll want to know about this. Are you still

working for any of the Griswolds?”

“Yes, but not Ellen and Bill. Nothing has changed since they

pretty much cut me off yesterday morning. According to Ellen,

I’m supposed to tie up any loose ends here and then head

home. But now I’m working for Gary Griswold. I’m helping

protect him – for the moment anyway. He’s not too crazy

about having me around, either, so there’s no telling how long

this job – if you can even call it a job – is going to last. Why do you ask?”

“It’s just as well that you’re not counting on Bill and Ellen

for fees or expenses. Algonquin Steel has been in total turmoil

over the last twenty-four hours. The Albany Griswolds are

struggling to retain control of the company, with this offshore

group buying up shares by the shitload. Whoever the buyers are,

they’re paying premium prices and money seems to be no

object to these people. So just do understand that Ellen is going to be plenty distracted until all this comes to a head at the

company’s annual meeting at the end of this month, when it is

very likely that Bill will lose control of the company. I don’t

know whether any of this affects what you’re doing over there,

but since I basically got you into this I thought you should be

kept up to speed.”

“Yeah. This might be helpful, I’m beginning to think.”

200 Richard Stevenson

“Hey, Strachey, that’s great news that you were able to

spring your boyfriend and that Thai kid. How did you pull that

off?”

“It’s this Thai PI, Rufus Pugh, I’m working with. He knows

his way around Bangkok the way you know your way around

Albany. Except he’s also got muscle-boy gunsels and acrobats

and an arsenal of smelly fruit. Tell me something, Bob. You said Algonquin Steel’s annual meeting is at the end of the month.

Do you mean the very end, like April thirtieth?”

“No, I think it’s the twenty-seventh.”

“Uh-huh. What do you know about the group that’s trying

to take over the company?”

“Nothing, really. I’m told they’re based in the Caymans. But

that’s probably just a front, and the buyers could be anybody

anywhere in the world.”

“Is Algonquin in such good shape that it would be all that

desirable to foreign investors? Why is the company suddenly so

red-hot?”

“That’s a bit murky,” Chicarelli said. “Algonquin is solid and

profitable and I would say an excellent long-term investment.

But it’s not so flashy that anybody is likely to make a quick

killing on it. The company is almost blue chip–like in the way

it’s likely to keep paying out modest but dependable dividends

for decades to come.”

“It sounds as if Algonquin would make a nice conservative

addition to any institutional endowment.”

“I’d say so, yes. But I doubt if it’s Yale or the Ford

Foundation that’s going after Algonquin now. Whoever these

buyers are, they are very, very aggressive.”

I asked Chicarelli if he had informed Ellen Griswold that her

brother-in-law Gary had been located and, at least for the

moment, was in Pugh’s and my protective custody.

“I left a message with Ellen, but I have yet to hear back.

Which is odd, since it was her hiring you to find the guy that

got all these strange turds flying around in the air in the first place. I’m assuming she’s pleased but currently distracted.

THE 38 MILLION DOLLAR SMILE 201

Maybe she’ll call you directly when she has a spare moment.

Meanwhile, if I find out more, should I call you and let you

know?”

“Yes. By all means.”

Timmy was laid out on a chaise back in the poolside

gardens, studying the night sky. The stars were blurry in the

warm haze but offered up the same northern hemisphere

constellations visible in upstate New York.

I said, “Are you attempting to discern your future up there?”

“Yes. The stars are saying: Timothy, tonight you will get a

good night’s sleep.”

I sat down and told him about my conversation with Bob

Chicarelli. “I do believe,” I said, “that Gary Griswold is behind the attempted takeover of Algonquin Steel. Probably in

partnership with Anant na Ayudhaya, the ex–minister of finance

Griswold was going to do the currency speculation deal with

and then didn’t. Once they get hold of Algonquin, they can

donate it to the Sayadaw U Buddhism center Griswold is

sponsoring, and it will support the center in perpetuity, or at

least as long as capitalism lasts. Griswold builds the center, and he and these Thai investors keep it solvent. It’s good for

Buddhism in Thailand, and Griswold and his cohorts earn so

much merit they’ll be sitting pretty for tens or even hundreds of lives in the future.”

Timmy sat up but looked puzzled. “That is very weird.”

“It’s the best explanation we have for the timing of

Griswold’s big investment project and its coming to fruition

this month. It also explains his secrecy. He doesn’t want us to

find out about it, because he thinks we might blab to his

brother and sister-in-law, and for some reason he doesn’t want

them to know that he’s the man behind the takeover.”

“Jeez, Donald. It’s his own family. What could possibly be

going on that would lead Griswold to force his own brother out

of the business their father founded? I know this kind of thing

happens in families – all-out bloody wars, even, over control

202 Richard Stevenson

of a family business. But don’t we know that Griswold actually

washed his hands of Algonquin Steel several years ago?”

“Kawee told you there was some kind of Griswold family

sin that he said he had to atone for. It might have something to do with that.”

“You mean he’s both atoning and getting even?”

“It’s not that rare a combination in family affairs.”

Several figures approached us across the tile terrace behind

the guesthouse where most of us were staying. None of them

was Griswold. I wanted to tell him that I had figured out how

he was planning on financing his Buddhist center. And I wanted

to assure him that since he – not his sister-in-law – was my

client now, I was not about to spill the beans. Unless, of course, he was planning on misbehaving in some annoying way and

somehow putting all of us in immediate terrible jeopardy yet

again.

Pugh, Kawee and Mango joined us by the pool. Mango had

just come by bus from Bangkok, and Pugh said Miss Nongnat

had also arrived. “She’s upstairs powdering her nose,” Pugh

said. Pugh’s wife and children were on the way and would arrive

soon, and his girlfriend Furnace was in a friend’s house up the

road with Miss Aroon keeping her company.

“Have you had rice yet?” Pugh asked and said that Ek had

gone into town to pick up some eats for everybody.

Nitrate brought drinks out – beer, Coke, fruit juices,

bottled water, and bird-spit beverage. Timmy asked, “How do

they get the birds to spit into that small container? Are there

bird charmers who make a profession of this?”

“When elephant mahouts grow old and are forced to retire,”

Pugh said, “many of them switch careers and become bird

mahouts. It’s so much less rigorous a life. As with the elephants, a bird mahout develops a long-term relationship with one bird

and can make it spit into one of these little bottles on

command.”

The Thais all had a good laugh over this, and they seemed

pleased when Timmy laughed too.

THE 38 MILLION DOLLAR SMILE 203

“No, really,” Pugh said, “the birds use their saliva as mortar

when building their nests. The nests are filched – regrettably

for the birds, I must say – and then boiled, and the resulting

fluid is the basis for this tasty beverage.”

I had a beer, but Timmy tried the bird-spit juice and said, “I

guess this is as close to kissing a bird as I’ll ever get.”

“That depends on how long you remain in Thailand,” Pugh

said, and the Thais all laughed, though I wasn’t sure why.

Mango had come out into the hot night wearing a skimpy

yellow bathing suit. As the rest of us sat drinking and kidding

around, he approached the pool, and I fully expected him to

execute a perfect godlike swan dive. Instead he climbed onto

the diving board and jumped in holding his nose. He came to

the surface glistening in the moonlight and then hoisted himself out of the pool and – with the un–self-consciousness and easy

grace of a gifted athlete – remounted the board and jumped in

again holding his nose.

I wondered if there might be some tension between the two

when Griswold came out and encountered the man with whom

he was once in love and who had, Griswold believed, destroyed

that love with Mango’s devotion to Donnutt and with his

money-boy activities involving a number of other farangs. Pugh

said, however, that Griswold had gone into town with Ek and

Egg to use the Internet café and look at documents from the

other investors in the Sayadaw U project. So we had at least a

brief reprieve from any awkward meeting between the two.

Any worries over a confrontation soon became moot,

however. Pugh took a call from Ek, who said that outside the

Internet café, as they were leaving, Griswold was admiring the

rented bicycle of a Swedish tourist, and suddenly grabbed it,

jumped on, and sped off. They chased him on foot, but

Griswold was both deft and fast on the bike, and they lost him.

Once they retrieved their van, Griswold had already been lost in the crowds of tourists pouring in and out of the Hua Hin

hotels, bars, massage parlors, and schnitzel joints.


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