“No,” she said. “His father.”
“Now that I’m here, I don’t know what to ask him,” I whispered to Jennifer.
“I will translate,” the woman said. “You ask me.”
“Would you ask him where his son is?”
“I no ask,” she said. “Son is dead. Two years.”
“Oh, sorry,” I said. “Then would you just ask him if he recognizes these amulets, the bad ones.”
The woman took them and gave them to the old man. She had to move a light over so he could see them, talking away to him as she did so. Finally she turned to us. “He has seen these before. A man talked to him about them. A farang. He doesn’t know him, has not seen him since. He told the farang what I have told you. These are very bad.”
The man whose stall it was joined us and peered at the amulets, too. “I will take these,” he said. “No good. I will give you in exchange two with much good power.”
“Thank you,” I said. “But I would like to keep these.”
“Three, I give you three for these.”
“That’s okay,” I said. “I think I’ll just keep them.”
“Very bad,” the man said, reaching out for the amulets. For a moment I thought I was going to have to arm wrestle the man for them, but I got there first. I rather firmly put them in the plastic bag I’d brought them in and stuffed it in my shoulder bag.
“Thank you for your concern,” I said. “But I’ll take my chances.”
“Where you staying?” the man said. “Hotel?”
“Yes,” we said.
“Which hotel?” he asked.
“The—” Jennifer started to say. I nudged her.
“The Oriental,” I said, interrupting her. “It’s lovely.” There was something about this man I didn’t like, not his size, perhaps, but his attitude.
“What is your name?” he said. “I send very good amulet to your hotel for you.”
“Helen Ford,” I replied. “What’s yours?”
“Goong,” he said.
“Means shrimp. Very funny, yes?” the woman said. “Big man named shrimp.” I wasn’t finding him funny at all, frankly, but if the name I’d given meant anything to him, there was no indication of it.
As we left, the old man gave Jennifer a photo of the monk, the same one Will had sent Natalie. “Father very old now,” the woman who’d brought us there said as we made our way back to her little stall. “Stays with his son during afternoon. He will die soon. His son has amulets, too, but not like this. Now you throw bad amulets away. Bad for you, too. I give you amulets for protection.” She searched carefully through the pile on her table and solemnly handed us each one.
“Can I pay for this? I mean I would like to make a donation.”
“No,” she said. “I give to you. You need for protection.”
“Thank you,” we said.
“Better have a close look at those amulets Chat’s mother gave us,” Jennifer said. “See if she’s trying to put a curse on us.”
I laughed.
“Who is Helen Ford?”
“Just a name I made up,” I said. “I didn’t like the guy. He made me nervous.” I also didn’t see any point in telling Jennifer at this very moment about the woman who was supposed to have murdered her husband and child.
“What do you think that was all about?” she said. “Why would Will have had bad amulets?”
“I have no idea,” I replied. “The only thing I can think of is that Will, for whatever reason, decided to collect anomalies. People do that, you know. For example, sometimes coins are issued with a mistake, postage stamps as well, and they very quickly become collectors’ items. Perhaps Will was collecting the amulet equivalent of that, although if there is a market for such a thing, I haven’t heard about it. Perhaps it was just a little idiosyncrasy of his. He may have found the monk the same way we did.”
“I thought it was sort of scary,” she said. “Nothing compared to what lies ahead, though.”
“What might that be?” I said.
“I think I should go back to Ayutthaya and get my stuff. I don’t suppose I could convince you to come with me for moral support. I would just pack my bag really fast, and tell whoever is there I’m moving, and then come right back with you.”
“You could phone and tell them you’re with me, and we could go and get your stuff tomorrow.”
“I think I’d like to get it over with.”
“Okay. If you’re sure this is what you want to do, then of course, I’ll come with you.”
There was a voice mail message from Tatiana Tucker asking me to call her as soon as possible, but I decided that taking care of Jennifer was more important at that moment. We booked a car and driver from the Regent. I told the front desk I would be covering the bill from now on. I didn’t feel right accepting the Chaiwong family’s hospitality under the circumstances. The hotel was rather finer than one I would usually stay in, but I decided Jennifer and I could stay a few more days.
We saw only the doorman on our arrival. Jennifer still had her key for the elevator, and we went up to the guest floor. She packed quickly, as she had promised. “Do you think we could just leave without saying anything?” she said.
“No,” I said.
“Well, could I leave a note?”
“Look, I’ll go up with you. You have to thank them for their hospitality. If there’s no one there, then you can leave a note. You shouldn’t be intimidated by them. You are your own person, and you can do whatever you want. What they think about it doesn’t matter in the slightest.”
“Okay.” She sighed. “I just hope I don’t run into Chat. I can’t bear to talk to him right now.”
The family floor was very silent when we emerged from the elevator. We looked in the dining room. The table was set for dinner, but there was no one there. We went into the living room. Dusk had fallen, and the light was rather dim, with only one lamp lit. The room was absolutely silent.
“No one here, either,” I said. “I don’t know where else to look. You may be right about leaving a note. Wait a minute! Now this is interesting,” I said, walking over to the two Fitzgerald Senior portraits. I looked very closely at the one of the two brothers, Thaksin and Virat.
“Aunt Lara,” Jennifer said.
“Look at this,” I said. “The sword the younger brother is holding.”
“Aunt Lara,” she said again.
“You know, I think I own that sword,” I said. It was identical, I was sure, to the one I’d bought at the auction: the same bone handle, the same silver decoration on the scabbard. “It’s back in my room at the hotel! Come and see. I’ll show it to you when we get back. There couldn’t be two exactly the same, could there?”
“Aunt Lara, please!” Jennifer said. I turned to her at last. She was standing in front of one of the large wing chairs. She looked very, very pale. I went to stand beside her.
“I don’t think he’s breathing,” she said.
Khun Thaksin sat propped up in the chair, his eyes wide open, head flopped to the side, his hands clasped in his lap. He hadn’t been breathing for some time.
Chapter 7
The days and weeks following the death of the king are dangerous ones in Ayutthaya, particularly at this juncture, given that the dead king’s wives had not produced an heir.
This meant that various factions were plotting for control. Spies were everywhere, and one had to take great care not to be heard supporting one candidate over another.
There were really only two contenders with blood ties to the king: the king’s younger half brother, Prince Thianracha and Prince Yot Fa, now eleven years old.
Lady Si Sudachan, who heretofore had shown little interest in her sons’ welfare, and was well known to have had various flirtations while the king was away at war, suddenly appeared the grieving lover and doting mother. Her hypocrisy was completely transparent to me and, of course, to my mother, but apparently to no one else. Or rather, it suited some in the palace to support the dissembling, no matter how false.