Hot Shot

Bangkok, Wednesday, 31 May 1995

Somboon was feeling extremely happy and rich. Everything was right in the world. He slid his hand up between Lee Lee’s thighs and looked at his watch. Bloody Bangkok midday traffic jams. He couldn’t wait to get to the flat he maintained for Lee Lee. He told the driver to turn up the air-conditioning and play his favourite Chinese love songs. Not much longer now, surely the damn traffic must start moving soon.

Somboon heard the big motorbike manoeuvring up beside them. Perhaps he should also get one to cut through jams like this. But then he wouldn’t be able to slip his hand up Lee Lee’s thigh. He pushed his hand to the top of her leg, hiking her miniskirt in the process, and turned smirking to see if the motorcyclist had noticed. The un-helmeted rider leered in at him through the darkened glass. Somboon tensed. Something was unusual. Then the bike pulled forward a little and Somboon began to relax.

He had no time to scream as the smiling pillion rider pulled out a snub-nosed machine gun and lazily emptied it into Somboon, Lee Lee and the driver before the bike pulled away swiftly through the stationary vehicles.

One minute later the lights changed and the traffic started to move. Somboon’s car remained motionless as the tropical sun beat down on it. The jammed cars began hooting.

The young policeman stared at the stalled car blocking the midday traffic. He sighed, climbed down stiffly from his small bandstand in the middle of the junction and walked officiously towards the motionless Mercedes…