He had raised his voice as if talking to the deaf. The camera was down at his waist. He was clearly angry that nobody was answering his question. Daeng’s usual flashing light warning system was dull. Siri tried to lunge forward but his reflexes were shot. He looked at Daeng and—with the few facial features that still worked—they shared an expression of apology. The window shutter was open but they couldn’t shout for help. The clouds outside grew cumbersome and heavy and dropped to the ground, followed by the sky.

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Eighteen

The Thai that Binds

“Oh, at last,” said Bruce. “You know? In the movies I’d just toss a glass of water in your face and you’d splutter into consciousness. That was your third glass. I thought you’d had a heart attack, or I’d drowned you. For obvious reasons I didn’t want to get the room too wet.”

Siri was the first to come around. He could see the young man in a blur and hear his words, but it was as if he were in the audience watching a scene from a play. He blinked a few times to clear his sight. He and Daeng were lying on the floor back to back, tied together at the wrists with their ankles bound. He tried to speak but whatever the boy had put in the coconut water was powerful stuff. The Lao skirts had been piled around them a meter high and Bruce sat on the top of one pile like a mischievous elf. There was a scent of lighter fluid in the room.

“Yes, it was perhaps a bit stronger than it needed to be,” said Bruce. “But I really didn’t expect you to drink that much.”

Daeng groaned.

“I’m not sure I’ll have the time for both of you to regain your speech. I have a plane to catch this evening. At least your ears are working. Two weeks, just like I promised. Not as smooth as I’d hoped. It all started off so well too. Good fortune with the journalists, eh? Right on time. Civilai desperate for sleep popping the Ibuprofen I prescribed for him. And you, Lady Daeng, my only failure. So proud of yourself. But, Daeng, you should have gone with the drug option. Burning to death is so . . . icky. With all this antique cotton you’ll go up a lot faster than Comrade Civilai, but it’ll still be a wicked way to go. And it’ll be a shame for you to leave this earth without knowing what the point was, right? So I’ll chat for a little while, if you don’t mind.”

He was flicking the top of an engraved Zippo lighter open and closed and rolling the flint wheel with his thumb. Daeng stirred.