A Heavy Price - Part 1 of 2

He’s dead now. There’s really not much I can do about it any more. Why did he have to spoil everything?

Sorry, I guess you are wondering what I am talking about. Let me start at the beginning. Malcolm and I have been friends ever since we met at kindergarten. I don’t know why. We just met and the chemistry was there. He was in a fight with another boy. I saw what was happening and went over to help him. Even at age five I had this inner confidence that has stood me in good stead all my life. I stepped between them and just hit the other boy between the eyes. He was stunned. Then he ran away immediately. Malcolm and I became firm friends from that time on.

I’m Rupert Jones, but everyone calls me Ropey. That could be a reference to my temper, or it could just be a bastardization of my first name. It doesn’t matter which. I’ve grown used to it. You could say I’m good looking in a way. I just break six foot, with shaggy blonde hair, blue eyes and a happy-go-lucky approach to life. I learned early that worrying achieves nothing, so I have always tried to make the best of whatever fate hands me.

Malcolm is quite a contrast. He is only about five foot five in wet socks. His eyes are a light amber, which really attracts the women. But he lacks the confidence to be really successful with them. He’s had a few girlfriends, but they rarely stay long. It doesn’t seem to bother him. He is very handy with his hands and loves working on his cars. If an engine breaks down it seems he only has to look at it and it starts behaving itself.

Me? I’m the cerebral one. I was always good at math, but I also like writing and art. These talents came in handy in my chosen profession as an investment banker, mainly dealing in expensive works of art. I worked for a small but very successful bank active in the international market. I have managed to make a lot of money over my thirty six years; enough to start achieving my dream of buying a few buildings and doing them up for resale. I had already been looking at some old godowns on the Chao Phraya river bank that looked promising. I had enough to put in a good sized share, but I still needed at least three times more than I currently had. If I didn’t get the money soon I would miss the opportunity. I was determined to be rich enough to retire within ten years. These buildings would be the start of my quest.
 
Malcolm was always broke. He never was any good with money. He loved to gamble. Whenever he won I was the first person he paid off. But most of the time he needed cash. Sometimes he would come begging to borrow money to repay a gambling debt. Or he might have blown all his money on a harebrained get rich scheme. I tried giving him some financial advice but he never took it seriously. He liked living on the edge.

Despite this he managed to scrape up the money to come to Bangkok with me about six months ago. He’d written to an engineering firm and managed to get a job. I’d been offered a cushy post with a bank here. We were having a ball. That is until the day he came over to my place pale and frightened.

 “I’ve done something really stupid Ropey. I’m in debt to a loan shark for over one hundred grand. What am I going to do?”

“Dollars or Baht?”

“Dollars.” He said looking scared.

“A loan shark? How did that happen? I didn’t even know there were any here.”

“Oh they are here alright. I started gambling at a Muay Thai fight about a week ago. I went with that Thai bloke from my office, Vichai. You met him I think?” He looked at me quizzically and I nodded.

“Well, he saw I was getting a bit low so he asked if I would like a stake. Like a fool, I thought he meant he was going to lend me the money. But he introduced me to this mean looking bastard everyone called Loong Paw, or something. Vichai spoke to him for a minute and then this Loong Paw pulled out a wad of money and just handed it to me. He shook my hand and then he walked away.

I tried to make it back at cards, but I kept on losing. It’s the worst losing streak I’ve ever had. Loong Paw kept on lending me more. Now he has come looking for his money back and I don’t have it. I need something to give him, even just ten or twenty thousand would hold him off. If I don’t come up with something he’ll do me some serious damage Ropey.”

We might be best mates but there is a line even I draw and Malcolm had just stepped over it. I didn’t mind lending him small amount, sometimes even a few thousand dollars at a time. But this time he’d gone way beyond anything I could help him with. I needed all the money I had for my investment, and then some.

So there we were. The two of us desperate for money. Me to buy those properties, and Malcolm so that he could stay alive.

Suddenly, I had an idea. My cousin Stanton had came to Bangkok for a visit.

Cousin Stanton was the father I never had. My dad had died in an industrial accident at the factory where he worked soon after I was born. My mother was devastated. Stanton was there for her. He made sure the house payments were made, that we always had enough money for food, clothing and my education. He was my hero. I would have done anything for him.

Cousin Stanton is a very successful advertising company owner with offices all over the world. He’s always traveling to ensure his operations run smoothly, so I don’t get to see him as much as I would like. But he has always stopped by to see me whenever he could. He’d called me late last night to tell me he was in Bangkok for the first time. He couldn’t have come at a better, or a worse time, depending on how you looked at it.

“Listen, Malcolm, I may have a solution for the both of us. But let me do this my way, ok?”

He looked at me and nodded mutely.

I took him with me to the Oriental hotel where cousin Stanton was staying. We were both dressed in our best business shirts and ties. Stanton had a suite in the new building overlooking the river. It was breathtaking. The room was furnished in Thai silk, with expensive porcelain and ancient Buddha statues scattered everywhere, as well as paintings by some of the Kingdom’s top artists on the walls. I didn’t even want to think how much Stanton was paying for the luxury.

We sat near the large picture windows and watched the passing rice barges while the room waiter poured us coffee. Stanton gave him a large tip with his most charming smile and told him he would ring if we needed anything else. The waiter left quietly, closing the doors on his way out. We were alone.

“It’s good to see you again Ropey, but you don’t look too good old boy. What’s the problem?”

I smiled and said that I had a couple of big favors to ask him and I was nervous. God bless his big heart he just gave a chuckle and said that he would be happy to help if he could. “You rarely ever ask for anything. I wish you would, but it’s good you are so independent.”

I thanked him and explained why Malcolm and I needed to borrow some serious money quickly. Cousin Stanton sat there looking solemn as he listened to us pitch our needs to him.

When I finished he came and sat next to me, put his arm around my shoulder and said, “Ropey, you are the son I never had. I’ve never regretted having to stay single for my work because I’ve always had you and your mother to care for.”

I nodded. I felt he was leading up to telling me we couldn’t have the money. I just knew it in my bones. He’d never let me down before, but this was just too much to ask for, surely?.

But then he surprised me. “I’ll be happy to give you the money if you will do something very important for me. What I am about to ask is not something I would normally ask. It’s a huge favor and I will understand if you say no. I hope you don’t, though, because it could have dire consequences for me.”

I looked at him, the coffee cup in my hand shaking with surprise. He went on.

“As you know, I have been very successful over the years. But you don’t get to my position without cutting corners now and again. Usually I have managed to get around any problems, but this is one that just won’t go away.”

I waited, wondering what he was leading up to.

“About two weeks ago while we were in Japan to fix some problems there my chief accountant, Gordon Baker, came and accused me of some serious financial irregularities. No need to go into detail here. They are real and I could be in big trouble if he goes to the authorities, as he has threatened to do. He has been angling for a while to take over the company from me, and I won’t allow that. I just don’t like the man. With these accusations he is making the fact is I could end up in jail for the rest of my life. I’m too old to live through a long sentence. I have a lot more good work to do, but until I solve this problem with Baker I am in great danger.”

“What do you want me to do cousin?”

“Not you alone Ropey. Your friend Malcolm here will also have to help if he wants the money to repay his debts.”

Malcolm looked at me and nodded eagerly. He still hadn’t twigged what my cousin was leading up to, but I already had a good idea. I waited while he worked out how to put it to us.

Finally he put down his coffee cup, stood up and started pacing about agitatedly. “Son, I wouldn’t ask you to do this if I didn’t absolutely have to. But if I don’t get rid of Baker I will lose my liberty and probably my life. I can’t allow that to happen.”

“When you say Baker must be got rid of, just what do you mean, cousin?” I needed him to spell it out clearly for Malcolm.

“I mean exactly what I say. He must be put out of the way, permanently.” He said in a heated voice. I’d never seen him this worked up before. “You two boys are the only people in the world I trust enough to talk to about this. I need you to kill Baker for me.”

Malcolm’s face drained of blood. I thought he was going to faint right there. I leaned over and put a hand on his knee. “Steady on mate. Don’t lose it now.” He groaned and shut his eyes tight.

“Cousin, I think we need some time before we can answer.”

Turning to Malcolm I gestured for him to follow me out of the room. We walked in silence down the hallway to the lift and got in. I pressed the button for the ground floor. Malcolm was looking green.

“Are you alright mate?”

He nodded. He was pale and trembling. “I can’t. I can’t do it, Ropey. How can your cousin even ask?”

“Don’t talk now. Wait until we get outside, ok?”

He nodded. The lift stopped and we walked out of the building into the thick tropical garden. It looked so serene in the night with small lights under the bushes lighting them up and throwing intriguing shadows at the same time.

We walked to a dark spot at the wall next to the river. I looked at my old friend. His hands were shaking.

“Calm down mate. We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to. Let’s discuss it first, ok?”

Ten minutes later we had both agreed to do it. I could see Malcolm still wasn’t happy but what could we do? He could lose his life if he didn’t come up with the money to pay off Loong Paw.

We went upstairs and told cousin Stanton that we would do it. The relief on his face was palpable.

“I will never forget this boys. You won’t ever regret this decision, I promise. Come back here tomorrow for lunch at The Veranda Restaurant. I am having lunch with Baker then in a last ditch attempt to convince him not to go to the authorities. I have asked him several times already but the man won’t budge. I imagine it will be the same tomorrow.”

He stood and ushered us out. We’d had enough of my cousin’s presence for the night anyway. We left, a very quiet pair.

After a short taxi ride we arrived at my condo building. “Come up for a drink mate. We need to talk.”

The lift whisked us up to the 28th floor and I let us in. Pouring two stiff whiskeys I led Malcolm to the balcony where we sat in the two comfortable rattan chairs we’d often shared. We each took a deep drink and stared out over the Bangkok skyline for several minutes in silence. I refilled our glasses and looked at him. He was still visibly shaking.

“Calm down mate. We can do this.”

“No, I don’t want to do this. I just can’t.”

“Think about it Malcolm. What choice do we have? You especially.”

He sat there for a while and then at last nodded his head. “I don’t have much choice do I? Either I do this or I die myself.”

I could see he was psyching himself up. Good. At last he’d come to terms with what we had to do. Time to make plans.

“How are we going to kill him?”

He looked at me, eyes wide. Suddenly, he had to think about the reality of what we were planning.

“I don’t know. I’ve never killed anyone before. Have you?”

I looked at him and we both started laughing. The tension was broken.

We spent the next hour or so thinking of ways to murder someone. Finally, we decided to wait until after we saw our intended victim. Malcolm went home, and I went to bed.

I tossed and turned, but I couldn’t get any sleep. Despite my cool demeanor in front of Malcolm I was really a bundle of nerves. This was not going to be easy.

I got up around two and sat the rest of the night out on the balcony and watched the sun come up over the city. I drank most of a bottle of whisky but I wasn’t the least bit drunk.

By the time we got to the Oriental again I had calmed down, but I could see that Malcolm was still nervous.

“Take it easy mate. This is just us having a quiet lunch so that we can see what this Baker looks like.”

We sat at our table just before cousin Stanton arrived with his guest, Baker. They took a table across the other side of the restaurant.

Baker was your typical bean counter. Pale faced, myopic with gold wire rimmed glasses. A nondescript suit and tie. He looked harmless. But he held the keys to all our futures. If he got the chance to get back home and tell the authorities about my cousin we would all be finished.
 
No. There was no getting around it. We had to go through with it.

“Take a good look at him Malcolm. Make sure you know what he looks like so we don’t make any mistakes.”

Malcolm sat staring at Baker for long minutes. He didn’t touch the food on his plate. I sat there and ate calmly. I needed to be Malcolm’s anchor; the one who could keep him focused and on the job.

The next morning Malcolm came up to my condo early. We sat down and discussed where and how we were going to do the deed.

My mobile phone rang. It was cousin Stanton.

“Baker still insists on going to the authorities. He is leaving tomorrow, so we have to move fast. He’s staying in room 5121 in the new wing here at the Oriental. That’s all I can help you with. I will leave the rest up to you. Just let me know when it’s done.”

He hung up without saying goodbye.

We went back to our discussion. An hour later we walked out of my building and got into a taxi for the Oriental again.

None of the staff tried to stop us as we got into the lift to the fifth floor. I doubt anyone even noticed us among the swirling crowds of tourists. We walked down the corridor until we saw where room 5121 was. Then we walked back up towards the lift. I left Malcolm there while I went downstairs to use the house phone. He already knew what to do. A minute later I got back in the lift to the fifth floor, putting on a pair of leather gloves before pushing the button.

Just as I walked out of the lift I spotted Baker leaving his room. Malcolm was already on the other side of his door so we had him bracketed. I walked quickly towards him.

“Excuse me sir, are you Mr Baker?”

“Yes. Are you the gentleman who called me on the house phone a minute ago?”

“That’s right. Please take us back to your room.” I said producing a wicked looking knife from my pocket.

He looked frightened and turned ready to run, but Malcolm was right there with another knife. Baker’s shoulders slumped. We took him by his elbows and led him back to his room.

Walking inside, I kicked the door shut and quick-marched Baker to the bed.

“What are you going to do with me? Are you going to kill me?” he quavered in fear.

We didn’t say anything. We had already agreed to do the whole thing in total silence. There was no need to talk to Baker. We just had to get the job done as quickly as possible.

“Lie face down on the bed and put your hands behind you.” I ordered.

Baker looked even more frightened but he obeyed.

I took out some plastic ties and wrapped them around Baker’s wrists, while Malcolm held the sharp point of his knife against Baker’s neck. Next, I bound his ankles. Then I climbed on the bed, straddled him with my knees either side of his waist, and plunged the knife hard into the back of his neck. He was dead before he even realized what was happening. There was very little blood.

I left the knife in him.

I looked at Malcolm and said, “Your turn.”

Malcolm looked pale. He hesitated.

I said sharply, “Do it!”

Shocked into action, Malcolm lifted Baker’s head, slit his throat and pushed the head down quickly. Again, there was surprisingly little blood. It had already stopped flowing when Baker died from my knife thrust. Malcolm whimpered. But he had done it exactly as we had planned it.

We walked to the door and I cracked it open. The hallway was clear. We stepped out quickly and I put a Do Not Disturb sign on the door before we walked to the lifts. Once we reached the ground floor we walked out of the side door and into the street to blend in with all the other westerners wandering around. We were long gone by the time a maid found Baker the next morning.

The papers told the sparse story of his death. No one had seen or heard anything. We were in the clear. Until, that is…..

© Marc Holt. All rights reserved by the author.