Bangkok Noir

“Well, you know, we all saw it. We know what really happened. You never will.”

I glanced down at my watch. It was 5:00 p.m. Like a Zen adept who experiences enlightenment in the instant when his master asks where he had set his shoes, at the words “You never will,” I suddenly saw it. It was so simple.

Khun Jaeng was right.

I would never know. Looking back, this had been clear right at the beginning. An epiphany, it made sense of those Bangkok streets I’d walked through earlier that seemed to have mysteriously changed.

Mundane practicality reasserted itself. What could I tell New York? They wanted facts. With a jolt I realized that Khun Jaeng was still seated in the living room, looking at me expectantly with a glass of iced tea in his hand.

“You’re quite right,” I assured him. And like a murderer who’s keeping a body in the closet but hopes the police won’t open that particular panel, I slowly edged Khun Jaeng to the exit, hoping he would ask no more questions. Thankfully he didn’t. More wais.

Finally I was alone. The phone rang. It was New York. “About the Skytrain murder…” I began, but my editor had no time for that.

“A bomb went off in New Delhi. Who cares about the Bangkok Skytrain?”

“You asked me to look into it.”

“You know we only run that Thai stuff as a sop to people planning trips there. It’s time to focus on serious news. See if you can find a Southeast Asia angle to the India story. Otherwise, never mind. We’ll call you when something comes up.” And she was off the line.

It was six. The setting sun was blowing huge orange and purple balloons across the Bangkok skyline. New York didn’t need the story after all, and what a relief. The Bangkok night was coming on, and the Phii of the Afternoon was visibly losing energy. The snake had struck, was digesting her meal and would soon curl up and go to sleep. Leaving the night open and free.

I knew I would never again speak of Kaew to anybody. Which was fine because, after all, he was a person of no particular importance.

Alex Kerr

Alex Kerr (born 1952) is an American writer based in Japan and Thailand. He is well known for his book Lost Japan (1994), which describes the changes he witnessed in the country where he has lived on and off for decades since childhood. Alex originally wrote Lost Japan in Japanese, for which he was the first foreigner to be awarded the Shincho Gakugei Literature Prize for the best work of non-fiction published in Japan. His later book Dogs and Demons (2002), addresses issues of environmental degradation and loss of native culture in the wake of modernization and Westernization. Since the 1980’s,Alex has made Bangkok his second home, establishing in 2005 the Origin Program to introduce traditional Thai arts to foreign visitors. His most recent work is Bangkok Found (2010), which explores the cultural themes of his Japan writing within the Thai context.

Death of a Legend

Dean Barrett