Текст книги "The 38 Million Dollar Smile "
Автор книги: Richard Stevenson
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CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
One of Ek’s cop friends had tipped him off that a Hua Hin
senior officer with personal loyalties to General Yodying had
noted Griswold’s name on the police blotter and had been
asking questions about him. It was reasonable to assume that
this officer had heard that Yodying was searching for Griswold
– and for us – and that word would soon come crackling
back from Bangkok to have us all rounded up.
Pugh had a doctor friend who ran a private clinic off the
main southern road only a mile or so from Monkey Mountain.
Griswold could be treated and well cared for there. The trick
was going to be insinuating Griswold out of the hospital and
into the back of one of Pugh’s vans without further injuring
Griswold or spooking the hospital staff into calling the police.
Pugh found the supervising physician and talked to him for
a few minutes in Thai, and then told Timmy and me, “It’s cool.
They’re going to load Khun Gary into the van in a few minutes.
They’ll even provide a mattress and sheets.”
“What did you tell the doctor?”
“That Nitrate is a seer who did Mr. Gary’s chart and
discovered that if he is to recover from his injuries expeditiously he must do so in Bangkok. It’s best that everyone here believe
that that is where we are heading. Also, I mentioned to the doc
that the phee of a man who has it in for Mr. Gary was spotted at the site of tonight’s car–bicycle accident, and he was also
observed outside this hospital a little while ago. So we must
move the patient for his own protection.”
“And the doctor believed that story?”
“Not necessarily. But he thinks I believe it, and he is
acquiescing in my wishes.”
“But won’t he ask Griswold what he wants to do?”
“Ek is at this moment informing Mr. Gary that General
Yodying is hot on his trail. And if he wants to complete his
222 Richard Stevenson
project instead of being flung into an abyss, he must come
along with us and recover from his injuries elsewhere. Ek is also telling him that he will be provided with the phone and
computer he wishes to have, and the privacy.”
“Rufus, this is getting dicey. Are we going to make it to
April twenty-seventh? I have a bad feeling that guys on
motorcycles wielding Chinese revolvers are going to turn up
well before then.”
“That, Khun Don, is why it may become necessary quite
soon to go on the offensive.”
“And how do we do that?”
“Your guess is as good as mine.”
§ § § § §
The clinic was a small but well-appointed place the size of
an American branch bank with a couple of tile-roofed
bungalows out back surrounded by flowers and fruit trees. Pugh
explained that Thailand had a two-tiered health care system, one public and one private, and as in the US, private was better,
though the public system wasn’t bad either.
It was after midnight when we got Griswold into his
bungalow. The hospital staff had doped him up for the ride. So
he was only half conscious when we laid him in his bed and
Pugh’s doctor pal, a woman named Nual Winarungruang, went
over Griswold’s charts, checked him out, put him on an IV
drip, and hooked him up to her own monitors. A nurse had
been called in to keep an eye on Griswold through the night. It
did not appear that we had been followed by anyone from
outside the hospital, so Pugh left Nitrate and the two part-time Dream Boys to watch over Griswold while the rest of us rode
back to the guesthouses.
Everyone had gone to bed except Kawee, Mango and Miss
Nongnat, who were still out by the pool drinking beer. Mango
was giving Miss Nongnat a massage on the chaise. For the sake
of efficiency, Pugh spoke to them in Thai and explained that
Griswold was recovering from his injuries, which were not
THE 38 MILLION DOLLAR SMILE 223
severe, and he had been deposited in a safe house outside the
hospital.
We were all hot and worn-out, and Pugh said there were
extra bathing suits in the pool house if we wanted to have a
swim. We did want to, and we floated around under the stars
for an hour or so. Pugh excused himself and said he wanted to
pop in where Furnace and Miss Aroon were staying up the road
and would be back soon.
After Pugh left, Miss Nongnat asked Timmy and me if
either of us would like a smoke.
I wasn’t sure if she meant cigarettes or weed. Anyway, I said
no thanks, that I had quit years ago. Timmy mentioned that he
had never smoked at all, and Nongnat, Mango and Kawee all
had a good laugh over that.
Miss Nongnat said to Timmy, “No, honey, a smoke is a
blowjob.”
Timmy and I politely demurred, saying we had already had a
full day. Though after we excused ourselves and were heading
inside, we glanced back to see the three Thais strip off their
bathing attire and slide naked into the pool together in a kind of eroticized NFL-style huddle.
Up in our room, Timmy and I talked it over and concluded
that it was possible before we left Thailand we might join in one of those friendly huddles. But for the moment we just wanted
very much to be next to each other, relieved to be reunited, and happy to be alive.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
The unexpected flight from Hua Hin began just after dawn.
Pugh banged on our door and said we were leaving town
immediately. Police roadblocks had been set up on all the main
routes, and we would be departing Hua Hin by boat in twenty
minutes. His police sources had confirmed that General
Yodying had learned that we – and Griswold – were in Hua
Hin, so there was no way we could safely move about. And
anyway the general might dig up information on who Pugh’s
friends and acquaintances were in Hua Hin and launch a raid on
the compound. Pugh’s wife and children were moving into a
beach hotel under assumed names, and Miss Aroon and
Furnace would drive the two vans back to Bangkok.
Griswold was already at the compound, accompanied by Dr.
Nual and a nurse. He would be carried down to the nearby
beach on a stretcher, and we would have to get him into a small
boat and then out to a waiting cabin cruiser.
The skies had clouded over during the night, and just as we
began the hike down a sandy track to the beach, the clouds
broke loose and rain came crashing down in drops the size of
melon balls. Ever efficient, Pugh had anticipated the bad
weather and two of his crew had gotten hold of broad-brimmed
straw hats that they passed out to each of us. There were a
number of extra hats, and the Dream Boys wore those stacked
up on their heads one atop another. Occasionally a gust of wind
blew the extra hats off and all the Thais went chasing after
them, joshing one another and laughing. We were all soaked in
under a minute, although the air was so warm that nobody was
all that distracted or uncomfortable. Thunder rumbled and I
asked Pugh if people were ever struck by lightning on or near
this beach. He said sometimes but that on this day he was
feeling lucky.
A local guy Pugh knew had dragged his small boat with its
outboard motor up onto the beach. The surf was light, even in
226 Richard Stevenson
the rainstorm. Griswold was wide-awake and complaining about
being pummeled and shoved this way and that, and who could
blame him? He still had a headache, he said, and he was sore all over. He agreed, though, that Yodying and his agents were to
be avoided at all costs, and it would actually be easier to hide in Bangkok than in Hua Hin, now that Yodying had their number
locally.
Kawee, Mango and Miss Nongnat were hungover and not
happy about being yanked out of bed to go to sea in a
rainstorm, but once they were on the beach, they began to play
in the waves. The rest of Pugh’s crew were helpful and
attentive, but not without a lot of kidding around in between
tasks.
The forty– or fifty-foot cabin cruiser Pugh had arranged for
was anchored a hundred yards or more out in the surf, and we
were ferried out to it four at a time. There were twelve of us
altogether, and it took close to half an hour to get everybody on board. This included Griswold and his nurse, a young woman
named Lemon. Dr. Nual said she was no longer needed —
another physician would meet the boat in Bangkok – and she
walked back up the trail. Meanwhile, the rain had let up and we
could see bright blue sky to the north, the direction we were
heading.
By the time we had passed the northernmost reaches of Hua
Hin, the sun was streaming down and all the men took off their
shirts and laid them out to dry. The two-man crew of the
cruiser served us tea, pineapple and sticky rice with sliced
mango in coconut milk.
Griswold lay on a chaise on the front deck and gradually his
headache lessened and his mood improved. He tried to place a
call on Pugh’s cell phone, but by then we were too far from
shore. And the ship-to-shore radio was not acceptable, he said,
because he required privacy. When Griswold returned Pugh’s
cell phone to him, Pugh went belowdecks and I followed him.
We both wanted to see what number Griswold had dialed. Pugh
did not recognize the number, but he said it was in Bangkok.
He wrote it down.
THE 38 MILLION DOLLAR SMILE 227
Pugh had said the journey to Bangkok would take about six
hours. Back on deck, Timmy and I stretched out in the sun.
Mango, Kawee and Miss Nongnat lay on mats in the shade of a
canopy and snoozed as we plowed over the friendly swells of
the gulf.
We overtook a Thai Royal Navy patrol boat and watched it a
little anxiously as we passed. But its crew showed no interest in us. A garland of marigolds had been draped over the Navy
boat’s gun turret. Similarly protected against bad spirits was our boat, which had a sizable Buddha figure on a shelf in the
wheelhouse just above us. Fresh jasmine hung nearby next to a
wooden carving of an erect penis, which I remembered from
my first visit to Thailand was a good-luck charm. Betty Friedan
might have had something to say about that practice, but we
were a long way from her aura.
Everybody on board gathered for lunch around noon. We
had rice, tom yam kung and spicy pig colon salad, plus bottled
water, fruit juices, and bird-spit drink for anybody who cared
for some.
As we neared Bangkok, cell phone service came back and
Pugh made some calls. He told Timmy and me after he hung up
that it might be a good idea if we delayed our arrival in Bangkok until after dark. He had no reason to think that Yodying knew
where we were, but that the general was definitely in a major
snit, according to one of Pugh’s cop friends, and precautions
were called for. Pugh spoke with the captain of our boat, an
elderly Isaan man with a formal manner and a high smooth
forehead and tattoos all over his face that looked like a bead
curtain in a Berkeley bar in 1968. The boat soon slowed and
headed east as we began to cruise around near the mouth of the
Chao Phraya for the rest of the afternoon.
Pugh summoned me belowdecks again and said, “The
number Mr. Gary attempted to call in Bangkok was that of Seer
Pongsak Sutiwipakorn. I am going to go out on a short limb
and predict that Seer Pongsak has replaced the late Khun
Khunathip as the soothsayer for former Minister Anant and for
228 Richard Stevenson
the Sayadaw U project. This is good. It may open up
opportunities for us.”
“Isn’t that the seer who predicted a coup by the end of
April?”
“That is he. Khun Pongsak failed to predict the last coup,
the one that sent Prime Minister Thaksin fleeing with his
billions of baht to the UK. But now the wizard is wielding his
zodiacal instrument like a cudgel or perhaps a threat or possibly a warning. Or, maybe he is just a vain, oafish fellow who likes
to get his name in the papers. I don’t know which it is. In any
case, maybe he would like to make a splash again by moving his
prediction up a week. From April twenty-seventh to April
eighteenth, another lucky number. The advantage of the earlier
date is, it’s the day after tomorrow. And if these momentous
events could be accelerated, we would have a better chance of
staring into the abyss and not having the abyss stare back for a very long eleven days.”
“How would we get him to do that? Griswold is wedded to
April twenty-seventh. The date plainly has magical properties
for him. It’s even when the Algonquin Steel annual meeting will
happen.”
“Ah, but these events are far larger than any mere
corporation and its machinations.”
“Tell Griswold that.”
Pugh said, “I have obtained additional information that is
likely to be helpful, though I am not yet certain exactly how. I found out that Griswold carried out a very large money transfer
from the Commercial Bank of Siam to an account in Albany,
New York last October fifteenth.”
“One and five. That unlucky day when the two Americans
showed up in Bangkok and made Griswold angry and sad.”
“Yes.”
“Do you have the name of the account holder?”
“I do. It is Mr. Duane Hubbard.”
“No shit?”
THE 38 MILLION DOLLAR SMILE 229
“Who is Duane Hubbard?”
“He is the former personal trainer of Ellen Griswold, Mr.
Gary’s ex-wife and current sister-in-law.”
“What is his connection to Khun Gary?”
“Good question. What’s interesting about Hubbard is, he
and his boyfriend, a sometime-criminal goon named Matthew
Mertz, were present on a Caribbean cruise ship fourteen years
ago when Bill Griswold’s first wife, Sheila, disappeared at sea.
Sheila Griswold was a huge pain in the neck and a financial
drain on Bill. There were people in Albany who believed at the
time that Bill – or even Bill and Ellen – paid Hubbard and
Mertz to toss the endlessly annoying ex-Mrs. Griswold into the
sea. There was no evidence, and nothing ever came of it. And
Ellen turns indignant over any insinuation that Sheila’s apparent drowning was anything but a stupid accident caused perhaps by
Sheila’s tippling habits.”
Pugh said, “Rounding.”
“What’s that?”
“When Khun Gary was moaning in his semi-delirium, he
kept going on about rounding, Ek said. But perhaps Mr. Gary
was experiencing nightmares not about rounding but about
drowning.”
“Drowning doesn’t have two Ds in it.”
“I know that. I attended college in New Jersey, just like you.
But the guy was slurring his words, and Ek may have been
slurring his hearing. Not having gone to Rutgers.”
I said, “This is fascinating stuff, but my mind is a little dizzy over what it might actually mean.”
“Well, Khun Don, hang on to your hat. Would you like to
know how much money Khun Gary had transferred into Duane
Hubbard’s Albany account on October fifteenth?”
“How much?”
“Two million US dollars.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
The first thing Timmy said was, “It sounds like the family
member who committed the terrible sin that had to be atoned
for was Gary Griswold himself.”
“You mean Gary had his former sister-in-law murdered?”
“Possibly. And then maybe he paid off these two lowlifes to
keep them from talking? The original fee was insufficient and
they were broke, and they knew just where go for an infusion of
cash.”
“Why would Griswold do that?” I said. “He says he’s
interested in justice. Karmic and Old Testament.”
“There is that. And he does seem sincere. Also, why would
he want to get rid of his brother’s ex-wife in the first place? He didn’t even like Bill Griswold. He and Ellen remained friends,
but Bill was just some annoying Bushophile Gary put up with
for business and peace-in-the-family reasons.”
“Plus,” I said, “the appeal of Buddhism for Griswold is its
adherence to nonviolence. He hates militarism and talks up
peaceful solutions. Is that a guy who arranges to have his
former sister-in-law fed to the sharks?”
“It’s not a particularly Buddhist type of offering.”
We were approaching Khlong Toei, the Bangkok waterfront
area with its docks and warehouses and light industry. The sun
was setting and the light was splashing flame all over everything: ships, fishing boats, docks, cranes, us. Everyone was on deck
now and alert. Pugh had arranged for us to be picked up in
three cars and driven to a house not far from Griswold’s condo
owned by a sometime client of Pugh’s in Sathorn. Timmy and I
were about to come full circle in our five-day Gulf of Thailand
odyssey.
Griswold was feeling better now, and he was sitting on a
bamboo mat under a canopy with Mango, Egg and Nitrate
watching Khlong Toei glide by. Griswold didn’t seem to be
232 Richard Stevenson
mad at Mango anymore, maybe because these days he had so
much else on his mind.
Pugh and I had decided not to confront Griswold with the
Duane Hubbard revelation until we had him safely locked away.
In case my knowing more about them could turn out to be
useful, I had phoned Bob Chicarelli in Albany – it was six a.m.
there – and left a message asking him to track down Duane
Hubbard and Matthew Mertz, who presumably were living in
the Albany area. Or at least had been living there six months
earlier when Griswold wired two million dollars to Hubbard’s
Albany account. I asked Bob not to spook the two in any way
but to find out what they were up to lately, and did they appear to be living off the fat of the land? I was beginning to wonder, in fact, if bozos such as these two might not be acting as agents for someone else, and Hubbard’s bank account was merely a
conduit.
Pugh had been on the phone up in the wheelhouse, and
when we pulled up to a dock just as the last flecks of gold faded from the soot black Bangkok night, he said, “Mr. Don, we’re
going to dine this evening with a celebrity. Do you have a streak of star-fuckery in you, or will you be unimpressed if I tell you that soothsayer Pongsak has agreed to grant us an audience?”
“Audience? I thought these Bangkok seer guys were humble
Buddhists.”
Pugh laughed. “Sure. Like Jimmy Swaggart was a humble
Christian.”
The three cars carrying our group of renegades each took
different routes to Sathorn. I rode with Pugh, Egg, Ek,
Griswold and a physician, a woman named Sukchaiboworn,
who had examined Griswold on the boat when we landed and
pronounced him fit enough not to be rehospitalized. Griswold
said, in fact, that his headache was gone and he was eager to get to a phone and a computer to work on his business transaction
– i.e., the takeover of Algonquin Steel.
The safe house Pugh had arranged for was on Soi Nantha,
not far from Griswold’s condo and only a few hundred yards
from Paradisio. The place had a high wall around it draped with
THE 38 MILLION DOLLAR SMILE 233
pink bougainvillea and a lighted pool in the back. We got
Griswold inside the house and locked into an upstairs room
with Ek on the small balcony outside it and Egg guarding the
door. Griswold had his computer and phones now, and he at
least feigned being satisfied. He promised us he would not try
to bolt.
Miss Nongnat went to her room to redo her toenails, while
Kawee and Mango decided to drop in at Paradisio and relax
there for a few hours. Mango said there was a Bulgarian
diplomat who often showed up on Wednesdays, and he hoped
to run into him and perhaps add to the Chonburi house fund.
Two of Pugh’s crew had gone out to bring food back for the
household, and while they were gone, Pugh and I went up to
Griswold’s room to lay out a plan we had come up with during
a confab out by the pool.
Pugh was seated at a teak desk with a PC in the middle of it,
and he had phones on either side of him. A Buddha figure
rested on a nearby shelf, and Griswold had lit nine candles just below it.
“Khun Gary,” Pugh said to him, “we are attempting to
sketch out a program for keeping you alive until General
Yodying has been relieved of his duties or even his present life
– we’re not sure what your associates have in mind for him. At
the rate events are hurtling forward, however, we fear we might
not be able to last another eleven days, short of getting you out of Thailand. Maybe to Sihanoukville or even darkest Rangoon.
Would you be able to conduct your business from either of
those two locations?”
“Of course not. I absolutely must be on top of things here.”
“Why is that? You can operate by computer or phone from
just about anywhere nowadays.”
“I must have access to funds. Not all of my funds are in
banks.”
“Oh?”
Griswold shrugged. “I have twelve million dollars in sacks
under the spirit house platform in my condo. There are people I
234 Richard Stevenson
am dealing with who – for reasons that will be obvious to any
Thai – will conduct transactions only in cash. Former Prime
Minister Thaksin is believed to have left the country with tens
of millions of dollars and euros stuffed into a dozen pieces of
luggage. I appreciate that all the untaxed money floating around Thailand represents an economic injustice for the ordinary Thai.
But as I have pointed out, there are larger and more profound
issues involved here.”
I said, “Griswold, you are so full of it.”
“Am I? That’s a rather sweeping statement about a situation
that is financially, socially and morally quite complex.”
“You’re in bed with crooks. There’s nothing overly
complicated about that.”
“Oh, is former Finance Minister Anant na Ayudhaya a
crook?”
Pugh said, “Khun Gary, being a crook is in the finance
minister’s job description in Thailand. For goodness’ sake,
haven’t you read it?”
Griswold sighed and said, “Look, I have already admitted
that this deal is morally complicated.”
“Anyway,” I said, “if this guy Anant is dealing in cash, how
do you know you can trust him? If he’s the chief Thai backer
for the Sayadaw U Buddhism center, what makes you think he
won’t pocket your cash for the project and have it shipped to
Singapore? Or to his old pal Thaksin in the UK?”
This got Griswold’s attention. “I can’t imagine that a
genuine Buddhist would do such a thing.”
Pugh looked at him sadly and said, “Oh, Mr. Gary.”
“Here’s the test,” I said. “You get Anant to speed up
preparations for the coup or whatever it is that’s supposed to
happen on April twenty-seventh. Instead of the end of the
month, they do it the day after tomorrow, the eighteenth,
another auspicious date. And you tell Anant, too, that the
money for the project – and the controlling shares in
Algonquin Steel – will be turned over to his group only after
General Yodying is out of commission and all the transactions THE 38 MILLION DOLLAR SMILE 235
go through the Bangkok Bank, with you as one of two
signatories on any disbursements on the Sayadaw U project.”
Griswold shook his head. “No chance. Khun Anant would
never agree to any of that. He is a proud man, I can assure you.
And a bit of an egomaniac, I think.”
Pugh said, “What if Khun Anant’s very own soothsayer,
Khun Pongsak, read Khun Anant’s chart and discovered that it
is essential that events transpire in the manner Khun Don and I
have just described? Wouldn’t that make a difference?”
“Of course it would. But Seer Pongsak would never do such
a thing. He is a man of integrity.”
“What if you paid him half a million dollars to do it? You
could write it off as overhead.”
“Bribe a seer? Has that ever been done in Thailand?”
Pugh said, “Uh-huh.”
Griswold screwed up his banged-up face and said after a
moment, “I’ll have to think about that.”
“Think fast,” Pugh said. “Khun Pongsak will be here in
twenty minutes.”
§ § § § §
The great seer arrived in a gold Mercedes with two young
monks in tow. He was a slight, bony fellow with gold-rimmed
specs who wore a formal black dinner jacket over a Brooks
Brothers button-down striped shirt. He had on a Burmese
sarong instead of pants and on his feet he wore dollar-store flip-flops. His fingers bore a number of gold rings. Around his neck
hung a gold amulet with a picture of a wizened monk on it. The
seer’s overall presentation of himself was that of a dubious
character who had gotten away with some casual shoplifting at
Harry Winston’s.
The Thais all wai - ed the soothsayer. Timmy and I picked up on the cue and performed a show of respect, too. Griswold
shook his hand, and the two had a brief, chatty back-and-forth
like a couple of old Cornell alums. Pugh informed Khun
Pongsak that rice was on the way, and we adjourned to the
236 Richard Stevenson
spacious living room for some small talk next to an enormous
stone Buddha figure before which candles had been lined up.
Each of us lit one.
Khun Pongsak said to Timmy and me, “So, how do you like
Thailand?”
I told him that we had not had much time to enjoy its many
pleasures but we hoped to do so as soon as our work was
completed.
The seer did not ask about the nature of our work, but he
did ask, “Have you ever been to the Trump Tower?”
Timmy and I both said we had walked by it.
“I hope one day to see the Trump Tower with my own
eyes.”
Pugh said, “You should go there, Khun Pongsak. You will
be amazed. The Trump Tower is made of solid gold.”
“So I have heard.”
There were some more pleasantries exchanged and then the
food arrived. We sat around a teak table while Pugh’s crew
served up rice, fish red curry and morning glory vines in a spicy sauce. Pugh and I had a beer, and the seer requested green tea.
Griswold asked if any chardonnay was available, and somehow
a chilled bottle was soon produced.
Pugh’s staff and the seer’s monk posse were then asked to
step outside the room, and Pugh got to the point.
“Khun Pongsak,” Pugh said, “as security agents for Mr.
Gary, we wish to make a request of you. General Yodying, as
you may know, wants Mr. Gary taught a lesson following the
unfortunate currency speculation scheme that went amiss when
Mr. Gary pulled out of it. General Yodying passionately desires
that Mr. Gary be thrown down from a high place and smashed
to pieces. And the general’s wishes for us, Mr. Gary’s
protectors, are now, we have every reason to believe, nearly
identical. Mr. Gary needs to remain alive, however, because for
one, he so much enjoys living and breathing, and secondly, to
complete the Sayadaw U project that you yourself have invested
THE 38 MILLION DOLLAR SMILE 237
in and which we all believe has earned the blessings of the spirit of the Enlightened One.”
“Ah,” said the seer.
“Now, we have been led to understand that General
Yodying is scheduled for early retirement, so to speak, following a government shake-up which perusal of the heavens has
determined should take place on April twenty-seventh. But
sooner than April twenty-seventh would be so much safer and
more convenient for Mr. Gary and for all of us. What if a
reconsideration of the comings and goings of the planets and
stars were to reveal that April eighteenth is the more auspicious date?”
We all watched the soothsayer, who was peering over at
Pugh with fierce concentration.
“It is not just the charts that must be taken into
consideration,” the soothsayer said finally. “It is practical
considerations also.”
“But surely,” Pugh said, “if these events are fated to occur
on April eighteenth, how could reality not fail to keep up?
Would the army – or whoever it is that’s prepared to move —
dare to defy the karma of the occasion as it has been revealed in your latest examinations of the heavens?”
Khun Pongsak continued to stare at Pugh, and we could all
but hear the whirring sounds of his brain cells attempting to
rearrange themselves lucratively.
It was Griswold who spoke up. He said, “How much do you
want?”
“Oh, dear me.” the seer said. “I can reveal but I cannot
control what is fated.”
“Let’s say a hundred thousand US.”
“No, a million. You are asking me to alter history.”
“Two hundred thousand. That’s final.”
“I don’t think that’s final at all. You are over a barrel.”
“Two fifty.”
238 Richard Stevenson
“Eight hundred thousand.”
“You’re mad.”
“No deal.”
“Half a million. Cash.”
“All right. Five hundred thousand. Half of it in advance.
Tonight.”
Griswold said, “Well, it is all for the spirit of the Buddha,
isn’t it? And for the memory of Sayadaw U.”
“This moment will live in Thai history,” Pugh said. “I
congratulate each and every one of you.” He raised his bottle of Singha beer in a toast, and the soothsayer solemnly lifted his
cup of green tea.
