Bangkok Noir

“Because Mr. Srisai was not a stupid man. He would have come to the same conclusion that I reached—namely, that Mr. Gottesman was the only person who could have set up this morning’s assassination attempt. And I am sure that he was planning retribution on his return to Thailand.” He looked over the top of his spectacles at the sweating bodyguard. “I’m right, aren’t I, Mr. Gottesman? You knew that as soon as you arrived in Thailand, Mr. Srisai would enact his revenge and have you killed?”

“I’m saying nothing,” said the bodyguard. “You have no proof. No witnesses. You have nothing but a theory. A ridiculous theory.”

“That may be so,” said Inspector Zhang. “But you have the proof, don’t you? On your person?”

The bodyguard’s eyes narrowed and he glared at the Inspector with undisguised hatred.

“It would of course be impossible for you or anyone to bring a gun on board. And equally impossible to bring a knife. Except for a very special knife, of course. The sort of knife that someone trained by Mossad would be very familiar with.” He paused, and the briefest flicker of a smile crossed his lips before he continued. “A Kevlar knife, perhaps. Or one made from carbon fibre. A knife that can pass through any security check without triggering the alarms.”

“Pure guesswork,” sneered the bodyguard.

Inspector Zhang shook his head. “Educated guesswork,” he said. “I know for a fact that you killed Mr. Srisai because you were the last person to see him alive. You went over to him after the journalist went back to his seat, and you must have killed him then. You went to the toilet to prepare your weapon, and when you came back, you leant over Mr. Srisai and stabbed him through the hole that had been left by the bullet that had struck his vest earlier in the day. You probably put one hand over his mouth to stifle any sound he might have made. With your skills I have no doubt that you would know how to kill him instantly.

The bodyguard looked up at Captain Kumar. “Do I have to listen to this nonsense?” he asked.

“I am afraid you do,” said the pilot.

“I know you have the knife on your person, Mr. Gottesman, because you have been sitting in that seat ever since Mr. Srisai was killed,” said Inspector Zhang. He held out his hand. “Either you can give it to me, or these Thai police officers can take it from you. It is your choice.”

The bodyguard stared at Inspector Zhang for several seconds. Then he slowly bent down and slipped his hand into his left trouser leg before pulling out a black carbon fibre stiletto knife. He held it, with the tip pointing at Inspector Zhang’s chest. Then with a sigh he reversed the weapon and gave it to him.

Inspector Zhang took the knife between his thumb and finger. There was congealed blood on the blade. Sergeant Lee already had a clear plastic bag open for him, and he dropped the knife into it.

Inspector Zhang stood up, and the two Thai policemen pulled the bodyguard to his feet. He put up no resistance as they led him away.

“So the Thai police will take over the case?” asked Sergeant Lee.

“The victim was Thai. The murderer is Israeli. The crime was committed in Thai airspace. I think it best the Thais handle it.”

“And the Commissioner will be satisfied with that?”

Inspector Zhang smiled. “I think so far as the plane is allowed to fly back to Singapore, the Commissioner will be happy,” he said.

Sergeant Lee closed her notebook and put it away. “You solved an impossible mystery, Inspector Zhang.”

“Yes, I did,” agreed the Inspector. “But the real mystery is who recommended Mr. Gottesman in the first place, and I fear that is one mystery that will never be solved.”

“Perhaps you could offer to help the Thai police with the investigation.”

Inspector Zhang’s smile widened. “What a wonderful idea, Sergeant. I shall offer them my services.”

Stephen Leather

Stephen Leather is one of the UK’s most successful thriller writers. Before becoming a novelist he was a journalist for more than ten years on newspapers such as The Times, the Daily Mail and the South China Morning Post in Hong Kong. Before that, he was employed as a biochemist for ICI, shovelled limestone in a quarry, worked as a baker, a petrol pump attendant, a barman, and worked for the Inland Revenue. He began writing full time in 1992. His bestsellers have been translated into more than ten languages. He has also written for television shows such as London’s Burning, The Knock and the BBC’s Murder in Mind series and two of his books, The Stretch and The Bombmaker, were filmed for TV.

Find out more from his website, www.stephenleather.com.

Thousand and One Nights

Pico Iyer

Dear Susan,