Free The Chiang Mai Chronicle: A Declan Power Mystery by T. Hunt Locke Page B

off. He sat back down. “Again, I’m not talking to the press, especially you. I need to get your stench out of here as well. Let’s just wait for Ben.”
    “Ben’s not walking through that door pal,” Power stated flatly.
    “What do you mean?”
    “I mean some serious shit is going down. Martin Gay’s gone missing and Ben too. The Bangkok brass is up here snooping through every nook and cranny. It seems somebody is quite interested in keeping Dr. Marty’s mouth shut.”
    “And how do I fit into this? I took over Gay’s business and certainly have nothing to do with any of the shenanigans over at King Mengrai University.”
    “Two of Martin’s instructors, Ben and Peter Fox, are still under your employ. They were well aware of, and benefitted from, the scam. If I’m not mistaken, Peter Fox, as director of teacher development signed those bogus certificates. Yet he’s still in a position of authority here is he not?”
    Minor again rose from his chair and stared glumly out the bay window. “What do you want Power and how can you help me?”
    Declan relaxed in his chair. Minor was spooked. He just hoped the rattled man had some information that could prove useful.
     
    Oum thought glumly of her situation. She rued taking the money from Nam knowing full well that any dealings with Marty Gay led to a bad end. People were dead, mutilated, and put on show in the public square. Word had already begun to spread through the bars and go-go nightclubs. Her girls had already peppered her with questions. “Oum, a dancer from Foxy Lady was found dead last night! A crazy man is on our street!”
    She had done her best to calm their anxious nerves. But fear could be a good thing. They would be on guard. But a lady of the night prowled for gold. A shiny phone, a sparkling ATM, and cold cash would always rule the night. She would do her best to play mother hen in Best Bar. There was only so much she could do however and there was the immediate matter of the strange biker hovering just down the way. Declan had finally reassured her with a good plan. “Go out the back door into the alley. Walk up the alley to the moat road and hop in a tuk-tuk. Tell the taxi driver to take you to World TEFL and I’ll meet you here.”
     
    “Bartholomew, as always, you look spectacular.”
    Bart Hartin always basked in the glow of praise. But coming from such a refined individual his ego swelled. “Thank you my lord,” he replied formerly. Bart had initially thought it odd to be requested to refer to the Lan Na aspirant in such an aggrandized way. But slowly, over time, the implications of what was unfolding became clear.
    “Have you made arrangements for the interview? As you know, media will play an important role in our efforts to reestablish the Lan Na Kingdom.”
    “Yes, indeed it will. Naturally I’m unhappy at having Declan Power of all people being allowed the byline of this story. Furthermore…” Bart Hartin came to a stuttering halt. He felt a cold laser beam being driven through his heart. The sheer power of the withering stare cast in his direction rendered him mute. Meekly he stammered on. “But, but, of course, your judgment in these matters is best.”
    A satisfied nod of the head from his Lord was the reply. The dead of winter had turned to a balmy spring day in an instant. He caught his breath.
    “I understand Bartholomew, of course I do. But Power did much damage to our cause when he exposed King Mengrai University in such a negative light.”
    Hartin scowled. “Lies, all lies! Which is why I…,” but he quickly reigned in his ego, “Which is why I trust you Lord to proceed as best.”
    “So it must be that Power undoes the damage with a story which better presents our side. Then he, and his slut of a girlfriend, will be dealt with in the proper fashion.”
     
     
    Declan relaxed after hearing from Oum. The man on the motorcycle was still waiting outside Best Bar unaware Oum and their substitute centerfold had