Текст книги "The 38 Million Dollar Smile "
Автор книги: Richard Stevenson
сообщить о нарушении
Текущая страница: 12 (всего у книги 17 страниц)
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.