Murder cases from the china shop (part 2 and conclusion)

After getting tired of the Miami Hotel and its unfriendly Chinese management after a few times, I moved to the Crown on soi 29 on Sukhumvit. How low can you go. We are talking about 1995. In other words, the last century.

The Crown

The Crown was also run by Chinese. It was (is?) a tendon hotel, where you can drive in from two sides and park your car behind a curtain. On the ground floor were 'short-time' rooms, without windows, but with mirrors on all the walls and the ceiling. I slept in that once, when the upstairs rooms were all full. With jet lag and no daylight, you completely lose your sense of time.

As an 'old hippie' I had more with simple hotels and guesthouses than with star hotels. But as a drain on society, the Crown scored fairly high. In the decrepit coffee shop, where a blind horse could not do any damage, two police officers were always gambling with the Chinese. As soon as they lost their money, they got on their bikes, probably to hand out some tickets, because they were usually back to gamble fairly quickly.

Drug addicts were regularly among the guests. The staff sold them heroin and other drugs, after which she tipped off the police, who then barged in and extorted some money from the customers. The dope was then returned to the staff. A win-win situation. This just to sketch the atmosphere.

During the day I often visited friends, who lived in Soi Sri Bumpen, a side street of Soi Ngam Dupli. The neighborhood used to be a backpackers area. Well known for the Malaysia Hotel, which was often visited by American soldiers for R&R purposes during the Vietnam War.

Later it became a hippie hotel and after the renovation it was very popular with our gay fellow man. In the meantime, the neighborhood had been taken over by ladyboys, prostitutes, pimps and other criminals, who found work on Patpong. Pleasant.

The Boston Inn

One of my friends lived at the Boston Inn. Also from Chinese owners, but seriously neglected and probably cracked. I don't know if there was still electricity, but at least no water. He had a nice room on the ground floor (the only floor still in use) with a bathtub. That is of little use if there is no water. There was still a swimming pool behind the building and a tap point to get buckets for flushing the toilet.

In the same street was a café annex guesthouse, where we often went for a beer. The place was run by a Belgian (let's call him Gaston), who sold other narcotics besides beer. All this under the supervision of the police, who operated a few slot machines in a room behind the cafe.

The case got a bit tricky when a dead junkie was found in one of the rooms, who had taken an overdose. Gaston was warned not to do that again, because he would get into trouble. When that happened again some time, they dragged the body down and placed it under a pile of cardboard boxes in a side street.

How and why Gaston was arrested and, after spending some time in prison, deported, I don't know. Maybe another corpse? Third time's the charm. I ran into him a few years ago when he was on vacation in Pattaya. Old stories fished out of the ditch. He was now working in Antwerp, in the port and he was doing well.

Resort Lolita

I don't know about the rest of Thailand, but on Koh Samui, in inheritance issues, the girls (and the boys, who were no good) got the land on the beach. That was worth nothing. Nothing grew there except coconut palms. The popular boys got the fertile plantations inland. The beach land is now worth a fortune, as a result of tourism.

Thus, Lo had acquired a huge piece of land by the sea in Maenam. When tourism came up, she built a number of simple wooden bungalows. A tourist was asked what name she would choose for the resort. Since her name was Lo, the name Lolita was obvious. Unfamiliar with the double meaning and Nabokov's novel (1955) became the name of the resort thus Lolita.

The resort ran like clockwork and Lo, who barely graduated from elementary school, worked three strokes from morning to night. Old bungalows were demolished and new, more luxurious ones were built. She earned a lot and, if she had been to the bank, she was taken home by the director of the bank. A good customer for sure.

Christmas dinner

In 1999 I was visiting friends who were staying there. My wife and I were invited by Lo to Christmas dinner with song and dance. Because we were staying in Lamai and didn't want to drive back to Lamai late at night on a moped, Lo offered us a (free) bungalow to spend the night.

The next morning at breakfast we met an older woman who joined us at the table. Her name was Marian de Gariga (probably her stage name). She turned out to be a successful composer of music. Mainly advertising tunes, such as: 'A spoonful of Completa in your coffee makes your coffee very complete.' She also made tunes for Radio Veronica.

She had become quite mediated by a few things. Marian was bored with the Netherlands and wanted to settle on Samui and, partly due to a good acquaintance, Hans Vermeulen (Sandy Coast), ended up in Maenam, where Hans lived. Lo's brother did have a piece of land on offer. Since you cannot get a country in your name as a foreigner, there were two options. A lease contract of 30 years or the establishment of a company. Since you can only own 49% of the shares in a company construction as a foreigner, you needed (at least at the time) six or seven Thai co-shareholders for the other 51%. Usually this was arranged by a lawyer, who recruited some employees as co-owners.

Marian told a confused story about people who would help her with that. A German, but she didn't really trust him and a Dutchman, who had often chopped with that axe. I thought it was a pretty murky story and warned her about criminals and scammers.

Since I had also been looking for a piece of land and/or house on Samui myself, I had heard so many horror stories that I had become very suspicious. She ignored the warning. When I told her that an accident can happen in a small corner and if you don't watch out you can be driven off the road, she replied with a laugh: 'I can hold my own.'

Six months later, she was found murdered and wrapped in a blanket, bound with electrical wire, in her temporary home. The plan was probably to dump her in the sea, but she was found before the plan could be carried out.

Very quickly, the helpful Dutchman B. was arrested. He denied, but drove her car and had withdrawn three million baht from her bank account with forged signatures. According to B., that money was to buy materials for the construction of her house. Whether B. committed the murder, was an accomplice and / or had Thai accomplices has never surfaced. He was sentenced to 7 years in prison, which he had to serve in Surat Thani.

Marian's son, who did not want to put himself in a Thai wasp's nest, waived his rights. I don't know what happened to the money and other belongings, but I have my suspicions.

Years later

Years later I read a story about this case on the internet. A Dutch pastor, who visits Dutch prisoners in foreign prisons, had let himself be used for B.'s cart, because B. was innocent and very pathetic. Reverend had enlisted an idealistic law collective in the Netherlands, to try to reopen the case or to try to get him to serve his sentence in the Netherlands.

I don't know how that went on. B. must have been free for years now. I do hope that they have definitively denied him access to Thailand.

Submitted by Porcelain Elephant (Pseudonym)