Stealing Asia Read Online Free PDF Page B

be the last.
     
    ***
     
    ‘Tell again – just
so I clear.’
    I raised my arm
up toward the top of the map. The island of Koh Samui came closest to the
mainland at a town named Donsak. This was a name that I could really have done
with knowing five hours earlier.
    ‘I am supposed
to be here,’ I told him. ‘The travel agent told me that my ticket would take me
to Koh Samui.’
    The policeman
stroked his chin, thoughtfully. It would have surprised me if those thoughts
extended beyond thinking what a magnificent beard he had. If I were him, I
would think of nothing else. Asians and Westerners generally differ when it comes
to the facial hair department. They get it on the chin, but rarely the cheeks.
I have never watched an Asian man shave so I could not say if this is down to
fashion or genetics. This man, however, was an exception. His beard covered
every inch of his face’s southern hemisphere. It truly was magnificent.
    ‘You are not in
Koh Samui, are you?’
    ‘Evidently not,’
I replied, dryly.
    ‘Can you show me
where you are?’
    This was the
most ridiculous question I had ever been asked considering that he was the one
who moments earlier had shown me where I now was. Regardless of the idiocy of
the situation, I pointed down toward where my present position fell on the map.
    ‘I am here, in
Sungai Kolok.’
    He stepped
forward and took a moment to contemplate the chart, which hung on the wall of
the police station.
    ‘So you expect
be here in Koh Samui?’ he asked.
    ‘Yes,’ I
answered with a sigh.
    ‘And you
actually all way down here in Sungai Kolok?’
    This time I
simply nodded. I had zoned out of the conversation long ago.
    ‘It seems to me
you not where you want be.’
    I shook my head.
His logic was as basic as his English.
    ‘Do you think
that this was some sort of scam?’ I asked him. ‘Or have I just been unlucky?’
    The policeman
walked away from the map and took a seat behind his desk. It was glass-topped
and appeared ornamental rather than functional. Filled with travel brochures
and charts, it gave me the impression that the bulk of his work did not involve
actual crime.
    ‘It not uncommon
as you think for tourist cross border here. You certain you clear when name
destination?’
    I reached into
my pocket to pull out the ticket that I had been given in Hat Yai and passed it
to him. It was written on a headed receipt giving the address and contact
details of the travel agency along the top edge.
    ‘This is my
ticket,’ I told him. ‘It’s written in Thai, but I had an interpreter with me
when I bought it. Some thief tried to snatch my bag and this man had kindly
offered to help me out. He was the one who recommended the travel agent to me
and even led me to the minivan that brought me here.’
    The policeman
flicked the top of the receipt with his middle finger.
    ‘This make
things easy,’ he said. ‘I call agent - find out wha’ happen.’
    There was a
telephone on his desk. It was black with an old fashioned circular dial
mechanism. He picked up the receiver and keyed in the digits from the receipt.
He then proceeded to have a conversation in Thai with whoever was on the other
end of the line. Every now and then he would glance up and offer me a
reassuring smile to show that he had it all under control. After about three
minutes he replaced the handset.
    ‘Good news,’ he
said.
    ‘So it was a
misunderstanding,’ I replied.
    ‘Oh no, you
scammed. The travel agent, he paid five thousand Baht to put you on wrong bus.
For that money - who blame him?’
    He finished with
a small chuckle as if he was expecting me to see the funny side.
    ‘Exactly how is
this good news?’ I asked.
    ‘It means we
solve case. Surely, this good - no?’
    ‘How is the case
solved? We need to find out who paid the travel agent to do this to me.’
    The policeman’s
smile disappeared. I hoped this meant that he was starting to take me
seriously.
    ‘Perhaps, I
drive Hat Yai and crack skulls as