Free Bangkok Rules by Harlan Wolff

was not his thing. The cremation and the weeks that followed it had been emotional. Carl had done what he could.
     
    “Are you interested in some work?” Carl asked, hoping he would want the distraction from his grief. George watched his back when Carl thought a case might get unpleasant and attract the wrong people’s attention. It was very comforting to know that he was out there keeping an eye on him. Carl never saw him following him but had never doubted that he was always there watching. George was also useful at meetings when a little extra gravitas was required.
     
    “Shit! You have a big case, you’ve got your game face on. I missed that. How sordid is this one?”
     
    “Should be routine. Tracking down a man that may be an evil bastard but is nearly seventy so I’m not concerned. He was some big CIA wheel with the Phoenix Program so he may have some ugly friends in uniform here in Thailand.”
     
    “You need looking after then. He has a big advantage over you.”
     
    “How so?”
     
    “Those guys had no self-doubt whatsoever. You, however, are riddled with it. First thing I liked about you. Yes, my friend. You are right. You will definitely need looking after. I am not going to lose another one.” He looked at the water thoughtfully and then continued. “The CIA was a civilian organization empowered to torture and kill. Being civilians, they chose to prosecute a war against the civilian population of Vietnam. This was deemed expedient as their understanding of military matters was limited and the White House had not adequately supported a military solution by declaration of war. Fighting guerrillas with terror was the strategy of madmen. They gave away the moral high ground and lost us in the military the support of the American people. The entire US military is still hamstrung by that disastrous decision and can no longer take part in a conflict without risking an overly harsh judgment from the people back home. Those warmongering businessmen have a lot to answer for.”Then he was gone as quietly as he had arrived.
     
    Carl felt better knowing the oversized ninja would keep an eye on him. George had a look of Clint Eastwood about him and people tended to behave better when he was around. Carl went back to the house to take a shower and see if the email he had asked for had arrived. He couldn’t wait to see the man behind Las Vegas Real Estate.
     
    He went upstairs and took a cold shower to lower the heat on his skin from the strong sun at the pool. The water felt good and cleared the remaining cobwebs from his head. He put on his fisherman’s trousers, which were like a sarong with baggy trouser legs, typically made of soft cotton. Around the house he wore them all the time, even slept in them. Carl went downstairs and put Bruch’s violin concerto on his old-fashioned tube amplifier with their speakers the size of wardrobes. He selected a medium-sized cigar from a humidor and lit it with a long match. Carl was home.
     
    He sat on the sofa listening to the violin music for a while and then got up and went to his small office off the sitting room. He switched on the computer and waited for it to fire up. Khun Anand, professional as always, had emailed him all the relevant documentation from the Ministry of Commerce regarding Las Vegas Real Estate Co., Ltd. Whenever possible Carl preferred to print everything before he read it. He found it was more tangible when he saw things on paper. His habit was to print everything longer than three paragraphs.
     
    Carl held the printed pages in his hand and he wasn’t pleased. The directors, or in this case the director, was Thai and all the shareholders were also Thai. Annoyed, he emailed the police colonel and asked him to retrieve, scan and email copies of their ID card records. He also asked the colonel for the recent travel records in and out of Thailand for the sole director.
     
    This company director was ruining Carl’s working hypothesis and he