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

said sweetly, “you know very well I am not an ‘investigator’. I don’t have the requisite papers.”
    He laughed. “Let us not split hairs, my friend. The permit I have so kindly arranged for you gives you a certain – shall we say – latitude. I merely want you to assist me on this matter.”
    “When you say employ my services , I presume you are not contemplating any financial arrangement.”
    “You presume correctly. This is one way you can repay your adopted country for all the benefits it has bestowed on you. Indeed, for all the benefits it may yet bestow. I feel sure you value my good offices with Immigration on your behalf, and you would not wish to disappoint me over such a small favour.”
    So there it was: help him or get booted unceremoniously out of Thailand.
    ( Incidentally, I am still not convinced this is not about Kat. Papa Doc could be playing a long game, while building a better and more powerful mousetrap. He appears to be viewing the mia nói secret as a closed episode, meaning that my bargaining chip has gone. Either that or his poker face is better than mine.)
    His secretary appeared with the tea, and we sat in silence until she left. I sipped the tea thoughtfully as he watched me.
    “Well?” he said.
    “Well, forgive my candour, Chief, but if this Surat Thani professional is already investigating the case, I don’t really see why you need me. Besides, won’t he be pissed at my involvement? I am just some farang amateur, and murder is hardly my area of expertise.”
    “My colleague Katchai ,” he remarked acidly, looking like a bulldog chewing on a wasp, “will not be aware of your role in this matter. It will be our little secret.” He let the silence hang heavy in the air.
    “So what do you want me to do exactly?”
    He relaxed and put down his tea. “Good. Braddock, you have a certain reputation as a man who knows about psychology, and you know how to keep your mouth shut. Furthermore, as a European, you may have some insight into the victim that we poor Thais lack. I want you to do some psychological profiling for me.”
    “Of the killer?”
    “Yes, and of the victim. Both may be relevant. Know the victim and you may find the perpetrator. That is sound logic, is it not?”
    “It may be. Unless, for instance, it is some random murder associated with a robbery, in which case the only connection of one to the other is that of time and place. Was the victim robbed?”
    “No,” he said thoughtfully, “he was not. A charred wallet was found on him, with quite a lot of burnt cash and two melted credit cards in it. The motive was not robbery.” He paused.
    “Why do I get the feeling you’re not telling me something, Chief Charoenkul?”
    “Ah,” he grinned, “So at last I have awoken your detective instincts. Excellent. As well as the profiling, I will welcome your insights in this matter.”
    I waited. He became more serious.
    “The victim’s name was Hannes Boehme, a 36-year-old Dutchman, in Samui on holiday on his own. He had been here about two weeks when he was killed. As far as we know, he had no criminal record and no known criminal associations. When a girl stumbled by chance over his body, he had been dead about a day-and-a-half. The night of his death, someone fitting his description was seen drinking in Chaweng, but we can’t be sure it was him. We have no witnesses, and the forensic evidence is not very helpful since the body was so badly burned. The place where he was found was behind a tree, only a few metres from a dirt road; but the ground was hard from the lack of rain, so we have no information from tyre-tracks. That’s about all we’ve got: a dead end.”
    “I’m sure you realise that if the murderer was a visitor to the island, he’s probably long gone, and your chances of finding him are zero.”
    Papa Doc looked a little uncomfortable.
    “We have reason to believe that the killer may live on the island.”
    “Why is that?”
    He cleared his