Chapter 1: a dead body
Bangkok never sleeps
It only pretends to.
Bangkok smelled like wet concrete and burnt oil when I arrived. The kind of smell that stayed in your clothes even after you washed them, the kind that followed you
home. Red and blue lights pulsed against the walls of the alley, stretching shadows until they looked like they were trying to escape. I ducked under the tape and one of the officers glanced at me before looking away again, as if my presence had already been approved by the city itself.
"คุณคือคุณธนากรใช่ไหมครับ" the young officer asked.
(You're Mr. Thanakorn, right?)
"Yes," I said. "Thanakorn Wattanachai."
"ผู้กองรออยู่ข้างในครับ"
(The inspector is waiting inside.)
Inspector Anurak stood near the far wall, arms crossed, his face unreadable. He didn't turn when I approached.
"You're late," he said.
"I came as fast as I could."
"เร็วของคุณกับเร็วของผมไม่เหมือนกัน" he replied.
(Your 'fast' and my 'fast' aren't the same.)
I ignored that and looked past him. The body lay a few steps away, partially hidden by a forensic sheet. Only her feet were visible. Bare. Clean.
"ผู้หญิง?" I asked.
(A woman?)
"ใช่" Anurak said. "ยี่สิบปลายๆ"
(Yes. Late twenties.)
I crouched slowly, careful not to cross any lines.
"ชื่ออะไร"
"พวีนี รัตนกร"
(Phawinee Rattanakorn.)
The name landed heavier than it should have. I didn't react. I never did, not immediately.
Somsak, the young officer, shifted his weight nervously.
"ไม่มีร่องรอยการต่อสู้ครับ"
(No signs of a struggle, sir.)
"No blood on the walls," I said. "No mess."
"คุณคิดอะไรอยู่" Anurak asked.
(What are you thinking?)
"That she trusted whoever was with her."
Anurak looked at me then. "คุณชอบสรุปแบบนี้ตลอด"
(You always jump to conclusions like this.)
"And I'm rarely wrong."
A woman's voice cut through the alley. "ฉันบอกไปหมดแล้วนะ"
(I already told everything.)
Aunty Malee stood near the stairs, arms folded tightly against her chest. Her eyes flicked between us like she was counting exits.
"ช่วยเล่าอีกครั้งได้ไหมครับ" I said gently.
(Could you tell us again?)
She sighed. "ฉันนอนตอนสี่ทุ่มครึ่ง ทุกคืนเหมือนกัน"
(I sleep at ten-thirty. Same every night.)
"ไม่ได้ยินอะไรเลย?"
(You didn't hear anything?)
"ไม่ได้ยิน"
(Nothing.)
"No footsteps?" Anurak asked.
"ไม่มี"
"No voices?" I asked.
She hesitated. Just a fraction. "ไม่มี"
Somsak frowned. "แล้วคุณเห็นใครขึ้นลงบ้างไหมครับ"
(Did you see anyone coming or going?)
"เห็นผู้ชายคนหนึ่ง"
(I saw a man.)
Anurak straightened. "ตอนไหน"
(When?)
"ก่อนเที่ยงคืน"
(Before midnight.)
"ลักษณะยังไง" I asked.
She shook her head. "จำไม่ได้"
"เสื้อผ้า?" Somsak pressed.
"มืดเกินไป"
I nodded. "ขอบคุณครับ"
(Thank you.)
As she walked away, Anurak said quietly, "เธอไม่ได้โกหก"
(She wasn't lying.)
"No," I said. "She was choosing."
We stood in silence while the forensic team finished their work. The zipper sound felt too loud, like it was ripping something open instead of closing it.
Somsak broke the quiet
. "คนร้ายจะกลับมาไหมครับ"
(Do you think the killer will come back?)
Anurak shrugged. "บางคนชอบดูผลงานตัวเอง"
(Some people like to admire their work.)
I said nothing.
"แล้วคุณล่ะครับ" Somsak asked me. "คุณคิดยังไง"
"I think," I said slowly, "that some people don't need to look back."
On the drive away from the scene, Anurak kept his eyes on the road. "คุณดูเหนื่อย"
"I didn't sleep."
"คุณควรหยุดพัก"
"Not yet."
"คุณเอาเรื่องพวกนี้กลับบ้านทุกครั้ง"
(You take these things home every time.)
"Someone has to."
Back in my apartment, the city noise faded into a distant hum. I locked the door, then checked it again. The mirror in the hallway reflected a stranger who looked calm enough to fool me. I washed my hands in the sink, watching the water spiral down the drain.
I sat at the table and opened my notebook. The page was already creased, like it had been opened before.
I wrote carefully.
Victim calm. Scene controlled. No resistance.
I stopped, pen hovering.
Outside, a motorcycle passed. Somewhere, someone laughed.
I added one more line.
Verify the timing.
I stared at the words, unsure why they mattered so much.
Then I closed the notebook and turned off the light.
Bangkok kept breathing in the dark.
So did I.
To be continued>>>>>