Read Online Everyone Burns by John Dolan - Free Book Online Page A

to myself these days. Responsibilities, you understand.” He waved the frame at me. “I was Island Champion for three years running. A record. Now I scarcely have the time to play a round.”
    Of golf? Or with your mia nói?
    He replaced the photograph wistfully and moving behind me put a hand on my shoulder.
    “So I need to ask a favour of you.”
    “A favour?”
    The hand stayed on the shoulder and squeezed slightly.
    “For our friendship’s sake.”
    Charoenkul shifted back behind the desk, positioned his elbows on it and made a steeple with his fingers.
    “A situation has arisen. One which requires the utmost delicacy and discretion.”
    Here it comes, I thought.
    “Oh?”
    “I can rely on your discretion, Braddock? That our discussion is confidential?”
    “Of course, Chief Charoenkul.”
    He paused again a moment, as if choosing his next words carefully. The aircon sounded very loud in that space, and in spite of its efforts I could feel the sweat under my arms and in the small of my back.
    “Two days ago,” he began, “ the body of a farang was discovered in a coconut grove outside of Lamai. The body had some interesting and unusual characteristics. It was fully clothed and lying face down. The back of the head had been beaten in with a blunt metal object, and the corpse was severely burned.”
    “Sunburned, you mean?”
    “No. I mean it had been doused with petrol and set alight.”
    “Not a suicide, then?”
    He ignored this and went on, “Naturally, I have every confidence that my men could clear up this matter in due course. However, the Special Investigations Unit from Surat Thani is involved, as can happen in such cases. Consequently, they are carrying out an independent investigation, which is ... inconvenient, and bad for local morale among my force. We have been relegated to a minor co-ordination role in the proceedings. This I do not like.”
    I bet you don’t.
    “So far we have managed the situation with the media, but tomorrow the incident will appear in the newspapers. Perhaps it may even make it to national television. I expect the journalists will play up the sensational aspects in their usual irresponsible fashion, oblivious to the damage it will do to our tourist industry on the island. I can only imagine the populist headlines. Because of the Surat Thani involvement, I will not even be leading when we make press releases and – Buddha forbid – if we have to hold news conferences.”
    Ouch. That’s got to hurt.
    “It is bad for Samui,” Charoenkul concluded.
    “And not so good for the poor bastard who had his head beaten in either.”
    “No. That also, of course, is a tragedy,” he responded with his trademark empathy. He continued on, having dismissed the victim as a barely-relevant annoyance. “The Surat Thani officer in charge of the investigation is an old colleague of mine. He has at his disposal forensic and other resources that are denied to us here at this remote outpost of the Royal Thai Police. Ah, what I could achieve here if we had that funding.”
    Clearly he doesn’t like this ‘old colleague’. Possibly he is a rival for the promotion that Charoenkul craves: a nice posting to Bangkok, where the money-making opportunities are greater. Although Papa Doc already has so many rackets his game should be tennis, not golf.
    “However, we must deal with the world as it is, rather than as we would wish it to be,” he intoned philosophically. “But I am neglecting my duties as a host. Let me get you some tea.”
    He barked loudly to his secretary, and my overstretched nerves caused me to jump in my chair, in spite of my intention not to appear intimidated. His secretary cautiously put her nose round the door, and he gave her the drinks order in his authoritarian fashion. The nose vanished.
    “So, Braddock, in summary –” he smiled charmingly, “– I want to employ your services as an investigator.” This smelled like a trap.
    “But Chief Charoenkul,” I