CITY OF ANGELS – A Murder Story in 30 Chapters (Ending)

On Thailandblog you can read the pre-publication of the thriller 'City of Angels' which, as the title suggests, takes place entirely in Bangkok and was written by Lung Jan. Today the last two chapters.

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Chapter 29

To his surprise, Anong was home in her apartment. J. had thought and perhaps secretly hoped that she wouldn't be there, but she opened the door almost immediately. J. hadn't expected a hug and didn't get one. He had already guessed correctly. Silently she let him in and sat down on the sofa.

'So girl, I just came from your aunt and now I know everything…J. tried to keep a light tone, but had a hard time with it.

'You think ? ' she replied coldly.

'Why didn't you tell me?'

'Why would I ? You think you know everything, but you know nothing...'

'Well, then tell me everything…J. tried to make eye contact with her but failed.

'I don't have to defend myself against someone who bears responsibility for my father's death' it sounded sharp.

'To be clear, I didn't kill your father.”

“But admit you did. You didn't go to Klong Toey for a nice chat, did you? '

J. failed to answer.

'That's what I thought… If you don't want to confess, I will: I helped my father from start to finish in his revenge…'

'What ?!' J. felt the familiar nausea rising again.

'Yes, you heard me right. The planning, the theft, the murders. I worked on it and would do it again in a heartbeat… The only mistake we made was underestimating you…”

'But why ?'

'I hated my aunt and uncle with every fiber of my body. As far as I can remember, my uncle was sweet and kind to me in the first years I lived with them. I received presents and was spoiled. Only later did I get to know him well, too well. When he was out with his friends he transformed before my eyes. He became a completely different person, foul-mouthed and rough. Also with me. I was not yet fourteen when he raped me for the first time. Afterwards he apologized and blamed his drunkenness but less than a month later he raped me again. I've suspected for years that my aunt knew this but was just too cowardly to stand up to that bastard. It was not for nothing that she suddenly put me in a boarding school with the nuns, out of the clutches of that perverted bastard. It wasn't until I went to university that I was able to largely escape their control and, above all, escape from him.'

'But…'

'No, ' she interrupted J. fiercely 'let me finish!'

'Just before I went to university I was approached by a man who introduced himself as my father. I couldn't believe my ears and didn't believe a word of what he said at first. I even wanted to inform the police, but he patiently convinced me. Especially since for years my aunt had systematically avoided any question about my parents. Once I was convinced that he was who he claimed to be, he slowly but surely started to involve me in his plans. Plans, which I supported and stand for 100 percent. After all, Uncle was not only a filthy rapist, a full-blooded bastard, and a cowardly traitor, but also my mother's murderer. The funniest thing is that I stole the money that was used to pay my father's henchmen from my uncle's fund. He paid his killers out of his own pocket…” There was a hint of triumph in her voice as she stared at J. with glowing eyes.

It became painfully quiet. A silence that was both absolute and subdued. Both seemed withdrawn and avoided each other's gaze. J. said nothing for a long time. He thought of his anger, of his frustration, of all the things he wanted to say to her. He thought of a thousand things at once, including the unasked questions that raced through his head. He cared about her but honestly didn't know how to handle this case. He did know that it was stupid to interrupt a woman when she was completely silent…

'A few times while I was in college, Father took me to the mountains in the west, near the border with Burma, where he taught me how to handle weapons and how to defend myself. It was just waiting for the right opportunity and it presented itself four years ago when that Buddha suddenly appeared in Ayutthaya. I saw how uncle became addicted to that thing and together with my father I worked out the plans for the theft. That the two guards were killed in the process was a decision my father made for himself, but I killed the maid…”

'What ? Why ? '

'She caught my uncle twice as he was beating me up but did nothing to put an end to it. Even when I begged her on my knees to go to the police with me, she held off. I never forgave her for that. NEVER !'

J. cleared his throat "You're not going to tell me that you too have anything to do with Tanawat's murder?" he asked, almost against his better judgement.

'Not directly, no. But his death was simply inevitable. It was, so to speak, written in the stars. He was way too close to us. I knew from a phone call with you that he had to report to you that day. I invited him to lunch that afternoon. He immediately succumbed to my beautiful eyes and told me about the appointment he had with you at Wat Po. I suggested we give him a ride and that killed him… You know, my father wanted to kill you too, but I made sure he didn't. For some reason I cared, no I care about you. You were the first man in a long time to make me laugh. You are always nice to me and, despite the age difference, I felt safe, yes, safe with you…' When he had found the strength to return her look, J. noticed from the tears welling up in her eyes that she really meant it. It looked like she was about to melt away in tears. He could almost physically feel her sadness. Despite everything, a pain shot through his heart. He hated to see her like this: at the mercy of bitterness and regret.

'Gosh…' For once in his life, J. was tongue-tied and didn't know what to say. Just as he came up with something, she beat him to it. All color had drained from her face and she looked straight into his eyes: 'Bad luck Dino...I don't want to rot for years in a filthy Thai cell. So darling, the show is over. See you in another life…' she said with a wry and immeasurably sad smile that J. would never forget in his life.  Before he could react, like lubricated lightning, she took a heavy revolver from under a cushion in the sofa, put the barrel in her mouth, closed her eyes and pulled the trigger.

For several seconds he sat perplexed and then roared as loud as he could into the night'Why ?!But he got no answer from the silent darkness… It wasn't a nightmare, but he wished with every fiber of his body that it had been. It was horrible, but not a nightmare. For a moment, just a moment, J. hoped he had gone insane. Insanity was certainly no fun, but as far as he was concerned, it was nothing compared to the horror that had just unfolded before his eyes… J. sank to his knees as if stunned. His head flopped forward as if it were too heavy to bear, and he clutched his arms convulsively around his chest. He didn't realize he'd called him, but Kaew found him that way hours later. Concerned, he felt J.'s shoulders shake, light and regular, almost as if he were crying. But that was out of the question. J. would never do that…

Chapter 30

It was only natural that J. needed weeks to process what had happened. A broken man, after Anong's farewell ceremony and cremation, he had left for Chiang Mai and allowed himself to be drowned in work in the hope that time would heal the wounds. J. isolated himself a lot and his close associates such as Kaew and Wanpen disturbed him as little as possible. He fought a lonely battle with his self-pity and the self-blame but also realized that he had to pull himself together at all costs. It was not until two months later that he left again by train and of course with Sam to the City of Angels where people urgently needed his advice on the purchase of a large batch of antique Sawankhalok and Celadon pottery.

Back in the loft, unlike Sam, it took him quite some time to settle down. Too much had happened in the last few months and the painful memories were still too fresh.  Tempest by Bob Dylan and a robust Romeo & Juliet Corona helped him as he settled on his terrace to traditionally enjoy the sunset, which colored Wat Arun and the river a deep pink and gold. An obviously pleased Sam yawned and stretched. J. yawned even deeper if possible and also stretched. For a moment he felt exactly where that madman had hit him in the shoulder… This wound had healed amazingly quickly, but the wound this case had left in his soul would no doubt continue to hurt for a long time… He grabbed his newly poured glass and thought that he had to agree with his compatriot George Bernard Shaw. The old giant had acted like a bloody Brit at times, but he agreed on one thing: Whiskey was like liquid sunshine. He kept the crystals tumbler with a 25 year matured Highland Park in the light of the fading sun. In his mind he greeted his Celtic ancestors who had come up with the brilliant idea to uisge beatha or to distill the water of life from grain. He slowly swirled the whiskey, watched the tears slowly dripping against the wall, and raised the glass thoughtfully to his nose. The smoke of a peat fire, the saltiness of the sea. He took a sip and sighed. Balm for a wounded soul. Just what he needed right now. The bottle had been a much-appreciated birthday present from Kaew.

Tiens, if you were talking about the devils… Kaew was suddenly standing next to him on the terrace in all his roundness. 'I let myself in, because through your boyfriend Dylan's loud bleating and posturing, you didn't hear the bell….'

'What are you doing? '

'I thought you could use some distraction, so I've come to pick you up… Can you go do what you've always loved doing…'

J. pretended to think seriously about this offer, put his arm over Kaews's shoulder and then, with a grin from ear to ear, said:I don't think that will work without problems. They are all married or have a jealous boyfriend…'

'On to the pub then', answered an already grinning Kaew. A few minutes later they disappeared into the open arms of the City of Angels in the – vain – hope that it would stay dry forever…