Free Confessions of a Bangkok Private Eye: True Stories From the Case Files of Warren Olson by Stephen Leather, Warren Olson Page B

I gave her my very best Tom Cruise smile and offered her a glass of my wine. Thai girls will rarely refuse a drink and we were soon clinking glasses and looking into each other’s eyes. She did have very sexy eyes. And breasts. Don’t get me started on her breasts. She told me she was in town for the weekend with her sister and that her name was Fai. Excellent. She was actually telling me the truth. We spoke in Thai and she tested me, speaking quickly and using slang, and I could see that she was impressed. Most farangs, even those who’ve lived in Thailand for years, rarely get beyond the ‘You So Pretty, Me So Horny’ stage. I spoke Thai like a Thai, and on the phone most Thais wouldn’t even realise that I was a foreigner.
    The wine slid down easily, just like my eyes kept doing, but she didn’t seem to mind that I kept ogling her body. The occasional hand on my arm and thigh let me know that she was interested, and the baseball-sized hard on in my Chinos was a dead giveaway that I was up for it.
    I bought another bottle of wine, making sure that I kept the receipt because Arthur would be covering all expenses. Fai and her friends kept leaving the bar for some energetic dancing, and Fai was attracting a fair amount of male attention. I was worried that some other farang might spirit her away but other than a few snatched conversations she didn’t seem to be interested and kept coming back to me and my red wine.
    Eventually Hard Rock started to wind down and I found myself outside with Fai and the other two girls. They decided they wanted to continue partying so we all piled into a taxi and went to the King’s Disco in Patpong, a popular venue for barfined bargirls to take their customers. By now I was paying for all the drinks, or at least Arthur was. I parked myself at the bar with a Jack Daniels while the three girls danced the night away. Fai was as attentive as she’d been in Hard Rock. She’d dance for a while then come back and give me a squeeze or a peck on the cheek and then she’d be off again. At one point she disappeared for ten minutes and I thought I’d lost her but then she reappeared at my side and slipped something into my hand. It was an ecstasy tablet, worth about 800 baht, and she grinned at me, waiting for me to swallow it. I’m not a big fan of drugs and prefer to get my buzz from booze, so I palmed the tablet and pretended to swallow it. She winked, patted me on the groin, and headed for the dance floor.
    Dawn was breaking when we finally left the disco. Fai’s sister and the friend flagged down a taxi but Fai didn’t complain when I steered her towards another vehicle. I gave the driver my address, and again Fai didn’t complain. In fact she slid her nails along my thigh and kissed my neck, which I took as a good sign. The taxi driver wanted to charge me 200 baht and I called him a robbing lizard in his native Isarn language and told him to use the meter.
    We got back to my apartment and I went straight to the shower to wash the smoke and grime of a Bangkok night out of my hair. When I walked into the bedroom with a towel wrapped around my waist, a glorious sight greeted me. The lovely Fai was lying on my bed, her head on my pillow and her shapely legs up on the headboard, wearing nothing but her Chanel Number 7. Arthur would have been impressed. I certainly was. I realised that sleeping with Fai would be unprofessional, but her legs seemed to go on for ever and she made it clear that she wouldn’t take no for an answer. What’s a private eye to do? There was only one thing I could do. Clients are ten a penny but girls with bodies like Fai are few and far between. I mentally apologised to Arthur and jumped onto the bed.
    The girl was an absolute star. She wore me out and I only managed a couple of hours’ sleep that night. She was insatiable. Against the door, in the bathroom, on the floor, by the window, every position I knew and a few that I didn’t. It was the following