The 38 Million Dollar Smile - Stevenson Richard (бесплатные книги полный формат .txt) 📗
Weems said.
“We’re just hoping that something really horrible hasn’t
happened,” Horn said. “Gary has all that money over there in a
part of the world that I assume can be dangerous. And then
there’s the Griswold family history of violent death. It almost
makes you believe in fate or karma or people being doomed by
forces beyond their control or understanding. Notice I said
‘almost.’”
I said, “What Griswold family history of violent death? I
don’t know about that.”
“I suppose there’s no reason Ellen would have mentioned
it,” Horn said. “But Gary’s parents died in a small-plane crash
fifteen or so years ago. This was just a year or two before Bill’s ex-wife, Sheila, sailed off on a Caribbean cruise and disappeared at sea. Presumably, she fell overboard, though nobody knows
for sure.”
32 Richard Stevenson
So the JAP was actually the late JAP. “This is news.”
“It does help show,” Horn said, “why Gary might take
predictions of bloodshed by a fortune-teller more seriously than a lot of us would.”
“It seems,” I said, “as though Gary was closer to his former
wife than to his brother Bill. Why might that be true? Or am I
wrong?”
“There was never any love lost between Gary and Bill,”
Horn said. “They were just two different types of animal. It was partly the gay thing. The Griswolds only accepted that
grudgingly, and it just wasn’t discussed. But there were other big differences. The steel and building supply businesses never
really interested Gary. He was in it for fifteen years to prove
something to his family and to himself, I guess. And then he
walked away from the company without giving it a second
thought.”
“Plus,” Romeo said, “Gary’s brother was some kind of big
Bushophile. That was certainly an issue. It was another topic
that could never be mentioned among the Griswolds.”
“Gary hated the militarism of the Bush people,” Horn said.
“He was constantly giving money to peace groups and to
human rights organizations like Amnesty International and
Human Rights Watch. A big part of Thailand’s draw for him
was the Buddhism and the philosophy of nonviolence.”
I told them I wasn’t surprised that the reality of Thailand for
Griswold may have turned out to be something other than a
travel-poster Buddhist paradise. “I am also fond of the place,” I said. “But if you don’t like militarism, it’s hardly the place to go.
Thailand has had a dozen or more military coups since it started electing governments in the nineteen thirties. The generals, of
course, always go to the country’s beloved King Bhumibol to
ask his permission to overthrow the elected government. If he
ever said, ‘No, sorry, you can’t do that,’ I’m not aware of it. The place also has a thoroughly corrupt police force that’s been
known to simply execute suspected drug dealers, as I recall.
And drive-by shootings are sometimes used to resolve business
disputes, I’ve heard.”
THE 38 MILLION DOLLAR SMILE 33
The three were now looking at me queasily. I guessed I
should have told them, as with Timothy, only about the
reclining Buddhas. I said, “But the Thai people generally are
gentle and humor-filled. And deeply spiritual. And they have a
highly developed sense of fun — sanuk, they call it. Sanuk infects just about everything the Thais do.”
“Like their drive-by shootings?” Romeo asked.
The waitress arrived to clear away the antipasti platter, which
we had picked clean. Griswold’s three friends, subdued now
and a bit shaken, decided this would be a good time to order
another round of drinks.
“Look,” I said, “I think you’re right to worry about
Griswold. It’s reasonable to think that anybody vanishing in
Southeast Asia with thirty-eight million dollars at his disposal has either met foul play or is in hiding in order to avoid foul
play. Or — and I know you’d much rather not think about this
— Griswold has himself done something illegal, and he is in
hiding not from criminal bad guys but from Thai-cop bad guys.
Which are sometimes one and the same thing, I’m sorry to say.”
They all set down their glasses of Ketel One and looked at
me soberly.
After a moment, Horn said, “I guess we were hoping you
would tell us things about Thailand that were more reassuring.”
“I wish I could.”
“Well, then,” Weems said. “It’s good you’re going over.
When do you leave?”
“In a couple of days, I think. I’ve booked space on both
Thursday and Friday.”
“Are you going alone? Or do you have a staff?”
“I may have help. That’s unclear.”
“Poor Gary,” Horn said. “I can’t believe, really, that he’s
done anything wrong himself. The guy is just so decent. So, something really bad must have happened to him. Oh, God.”
Our pasta dishes arrived, and we talked quietly about what
Horn, Weems and Romeo all saw as the good life in Key West.
34 Richard Stevenson
There were rising costs and overpopulation and the threat of
catastrophic hurricanes. But low-pressure island life was still the best, they all agreed and wished that Gary Griswold had not lost his capacity to be happy in this place that his friends all loved.
We were well into our lasagna and fettuccine when an
acquaintance the three hadn’t seen for a while stopped by the
table to greet them. Nadine Bisbee, an angular, middle-aged
woman in a sarong and fourteen pounds of turquoise and silver
jewelry, was introduced to me as another friend of Griswold
who was quite concerned about him. Horn told her I was a
private investigator preparing to fly to Thailand to search for
Griswold.
“Oh,” Bisbee said, “I don’t think we need to worry about
Gary anymore. Elise Flanagan saw him two weeks ago in
Cambodia.”
Horn and Romeo said it at the same time. “She did?”
“It was at a border crossing. Elise was on a tour bus on her
way from Bangkok to Angkor Wat with her Antioch-alum
architecture history group, and there was Gary at Thai passport
control heading back into Thailand from Cambodia. She yelled
at him, she said, but he either didn’t hear Elise or for some
reason he didn’t want to run into anybody he knew. Elise said
she thought maybe he had some underage youth in tow and was
embarrassed by it.”
I said, “Does Gary have a history of underage youths as a
sexual interest?”
Romeo said, “Just Lou.”
“Thank you, dear.”
“No,” Weems said. “It had to be something else. Was Elise
sure it was Gary she saw?”
“Elise said it was definitely Gary. Elise has been getting
forgetful in recent years, but she certainly knows Gary as well as any of us. I mean, she bought art from Gary and Lou for years
and was in the gallery at least once a month, wasn’t she, Lou?”
THE 38 MILLION DOLLAR SMILE 35
“Elise would certainly know Gary,” Horn said somberly.
“Maybe this means he’s been in Cambodia for six months, and
that’s why nobody has heard from him.”
Romeo said, “For chrissakes, Cambodia surely has
telephones and post offices. Even the Internet, I’ll bet. Am I
right, Don?”
“In the Khmer Rouge era, it didn’t. But now Cambodia is
not so cut off, no.”
“So, what’s going on with Gary?” Weems said, and they all
looked at me.
CHAPTER FOUR
Despite creeping gentrification, Stock Island, just east of
Key West, had one of the few remaining low-rent districts in
the lower keys. It had dockage for fishing and pleasure boats,
