21. Meet the locals
Larson, still not fully dressed, stood with the nameless Thai boy like animals in the headlights of a car at night, looking at the policemen. One of the cops raised a camera and took a picture of them. Flash! The stern boss, easily told by his layers of uniform decoration, said something in Thai. One policeman grabbed Larson by the arm and another grabbed the boy. They were pulled out of the stall. Larson was allowed to put his pants and belt back in order. Then both were handcuffed. The policeman with the camera took more pictures, now with the police boss standing next to the Thai boy and the farang. The police boss posed proudly as if he had his photo taken with a hunting trophy.
Larson could not take the situation seriously. What have I done? he thought. I haven’t done anything wrong. We disturbed nobody. Nobody saw us. We didn’t make any noise. Where did all these cops come from all of a sudden? Are they rehearsing for a movie? Why do they look so terribly grim and why is that boss so self-important? Why is that chap taking pictures of us? This is crazy.
The owner didn’t want any scenes in the main mall. Therefore the cops led the two arrestees out of the men’s room but avoided the public escalators and lifts. Bjorn, sitting in the restaurant across the wide gallery from the men’s room, only had a glimpse of the backs of the group as they left through a side door. What was that? thought Bjorn. A bunch of policemen, a Thai boy and a farang? Larson?
Bjorn went over to investigate. There was nobody in the men’s room. Bjorn tried the door the cops had left through. It was locked. Of all the strange things, Bjorn thought. Where did they go? They must have cars, Bjorn thought. He went back to the lifts. When one arrived he studied the buttons. Some of them said “car park”. There were several buttons for different floors of parking. Bjorn chose the nearest one. As he stepped out of the lift two black and white double-seated pickup trucks drove past. They were marked as police cars. In one of them sat Larson, looking at Bjorn with a bewildered expression on his face. In the other sat the Thai boy, smiling again.
Bjorn knew better than trying to stop the police cars. He pulled his mobile phone out of his pocket and called his secretary. Which police district did this mall belong to? She didn’t know. Nobody knows anything in this country, Bjorn thought. Bangkok police districts were small and there were no logic to where the borders went. Bjorn took the lift back inside the mall, walked through it and came out on the road where taxies waited. He entered one of them.
- Pai nai? said the driver.
- Pai satani thamruat, said Bjorn.
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