Mystery of the Disappearing DOS, 

Part VI

by Ignatius Filchworthy

Editor: We could, of course, summarize what has taken place already regarding the sudden disappearance of the Director of Studies of the Our Lady of the Ubiquitous Tears Secondary School, but why spoil all your fun, when you can read the first five parts yourself?

Part I:       Click here.
Part II:      Click here.
Part III:     Click here.
Part IV:    Click here.
Part V:     Click here.

Now, on to part VI....

I hate to say it, but I found that lipping off to Father Silvio as I had done made me feel really good, while at the same time I realized that I 'd most probably put my own life in danger and maybe Lek's – possibly even Khun Pranee's, more than it already might have been. Why, then, did I feel so good about it? This is what I pondered throughout the long walk to my apartment.

Then suddenly it occurred to me! This feeling was the same as the one I had had while undergoing the lung scan: Somehow or other I was in control! Instead of being on the defensive, and cowering in fear (at least internally), I now realized that the only way I could complete the mission of helping to save Rick and his little buddy and at the same time do something to shut down an extremely dangerous paedophile ring operating in my own school – the only way I could do that was to go on the offensive, call their bluffs, throw my own fears back onto them and give them a big meaning-packed grin each time I ran across one of them. It was the only way, though I had to set up some safeguards first. Now all I had to do was figure out how to do all of that!

First, I had to make a summary report to Lek about all (or most) of these recent events, along with possible ramifications of my own actions. (Naturally, I would play down Khun Wan's naked come on, and the kiss with Khun Pranee which had just happened, but clearly had never happened at all. God forbid ... smack!)

Entering the door to our apartment, I saw that Lek had just arrived herself and was removing her uniform (she was a low-level government employee at the Ministry of Labour). I locked the door behind me.

"I bought some good food for us," she said. "I'm sorry I sleep through this morning."

"I kissed you before leaving," I said. "But you really ought to keep your door locked. I, or anyone else, could have come straight in while you were naked."

She blushed. "Do you think they would like seeing me, though?" she teased, as naked she immediately became.

"Probably, and rape you too."

"You right. I forgot to lock the door. I remember next time, sure. You want take shower with me?"

Of course, I did, as I scanned her whole body with my eyes quite indecently. Lek was one of those girls who one could not say is totally beautiful, but who has more than just an inner beauty, rather an allure – a warm, womanly attractiveness that most men would find just as irresistible as I did. Only 24, her head reaching as high as my nose and her lithe, full-breasted body beckoning attention (naked or clothed except for her "neutering" uniform), she could have competed for the Miss Thailand title if she'd applied. Quickly getting naked with her, it seemed ages since I'd experienced her soft, luscious body. We had a delightfully sexy shower before we made love and shared the quite delicious Thai food dinner she'd brought.  This was heaven, and it was so easy to forget then about everything else that was going in. After that, maybe even dying would not have been that bad ...though I exaggerate, of course!

After a time, I finally told Lek most of what had happened, and she looked at me reproachfully when I told her what I'd said to Father Silvio – not (I suspected, anyway) because it was a dangerous thing to do, but because it was disrespectful, and that is not the Thai way. I had to explain to her over and over again, because of this cultural attitude, that what was happening to the children was unforgivable, and that Father Silvio was almost certainly involved in it. Lek certainly agreed about the children's predicament, but then chastised me (quite correctly) for putting myself at risk by talking back to him. She didn't include herself in this risk, though, and I had to concede on this point, while also telling her, vaguely, that I had a plan. I did, however, warn her very pointedly to be extremely careful, at least over the coming few days.

Lek sighed then, and let it go, and I interrupted her watching of a Thai soap opera on t.v. by kissing her lips from time to time. I could tell that I had made her nervous, though no one else, if just seeing her, could have guessed that.

It was then that Sister Sri called me on my mobile phone. (Bless her heart, her timing could have been a lot worse!) Sister inquired after my health, announced that Bill was feeling better, and told me not to worry about teaching just yet, as she had a substitute teacher who was doing a good job and she wanted me to continue (if I was willing) to help find Rick. From her voice, I recognized that she probably had some information that troubled her, and had fears that she did not want to involve anyone with.

"Khun Pranee is at home now, resting," she announced. "She's really had a lot of things to worry about recently, and almost no sleep. I'm glad she's home."

"I hope she's safe there," I ventured bluntly.

"What do you mean by that?" she asked curiously, though I could tell from her tone that she was probably not totally mystified by my expression of concern.

"We may all be in danger, or most of us, until our children are better protected."

"I've heard that," she said softly, almost inaudibly, "but I really can't figure out yet what it's all about."

"Sister, let me propose this. I've got some important business tomorrow, but how about Wednesday? At a time convenient to you, of course. We really should meet and discuss everything that has been going on."

"Wednesday is payday, anyway. How about around 2.00 pm?"

"Two in the afternoon is fine with me, Sister, but I find it extremely important to meet with you away from the school. I cannot tell you why right now, and I don't mean to alarm you, but it's extremely important that we meet someplace where no one can listen in."

"Oh come now, Iggie, aren't you exaggerating a bit? I cannot imagine why my office would not be as good a place to meet as anywhere else."

"That is the very reason, Sister," I continued to argue, "that we we need to meet somewhere else. It's because, please forgive me – it's because you think your office is safe that makes it completely unsafe!"

She sighed loudly, perhaps despairingly. "Oh, Iggie, I don't know! May I call you sometime tomorrow, and let you know?"

"Yes, of course, Sister, but please place your call in the afternoon, as in the morning my phone may be shut off."

"Oh, the mysteries of it all, Sherlock! Very well. I shall do as you suggest. Goodnight."

After this, I set my reliable old alarm clock and began snoozing beside Lek, who was still watching her soap movie.

At the sound of the alarm, I gave Lek a quick smooch, upon which she immediately got up herself to get ready for work. I had coffee with some jam and toast, a shave and a shower, and set off by sky train for the U.S. Embassy. Lek agreed to keep the door locked at all times, and we both checked to make sure we each had a key with us.

Every stop of my journey I looked for anyone who might be observing or following me, but I saw no one. Of course, the fact that someone was not seen by my untrained eyes did not mean they weren't there. And if they in fact were not there, did it mean that they didn't know where I was going, or that they already did? I had to drop the thought ultimately, and act normal, because nothing about this seemed to make sense anymore.

By the time I had walked from the sky train to the American Embassy, passed through the checkpoint at the gate and reached the American Services Section, it was 9.20. Not bad timing! Right on the dot of 9.30 (by my watch, anyway), a rather prim Thai lady came in and went to one of the widows, whose occupant now paged me. Reaching the window, I was told to go with Khun Marisa, the lady who'd approached the window, of course. Khun  Marisa had me follow her towards the more central area of the embassy compound into an inconspicuous-looking little office that one could easily have passed by without knowing it was there.

"Sit down, Mr Ignatius," she said, seating herself behind her small, but apparently well-arranged, desk.

"Call me Iggie, please," I said.

"Very well, Mr Iggie, I believe you understand that I am with Interpol?"

"Yes, Bill Wakely told me in a note he left with my doctor."

"And Mr Bill told me about you in a text message. All very sloppy. All very dangerous intelligence work. Please understand that I do not normally reveal my identify and position to anyone outside our organization, and certainly do not grant interviews to them."

She sighed. "But Mr Bill tells me that I can trust you, and we certainly need someone on the inside who we can trust to continue the investigative work he was doing for us. The difference, of course, is that he is a trained law enforcement officer, and you, I believe, are just an English teacher."

"Yes," I conceded.

"Don't get me wrong," she continued, explaining, "We Thais need all of the good English teachers we can get to make us successful as a nation and individually. The problem is that you, as a legitimate teacher, are an innocent now in a very dirty and intricate operation that goes against everything you stand for."

I said nothing and let her continue, while I took in her appearance. Khun Marisa was, I estimated, around 35 years old but quite attractive, one might imagine, if a smile could be coaxed onto her face. She was made up in a manner that suggested a wish to look common, meaning able to "fit in" anywhere without drawing attention to herself. She did, however, have a cold look in her eyes – not necessarily one of ruthlessness, but more than likely an indication of great self-confidence, which had been well and truly earned in a sphere of activity traditionally dominated by men. The lack of a ring on any finger of her sturdy but still effiminate hands also pointed to her not being married, though this was just a presumption, not proof.

"Thailand," Khun Marisa went on, "is not much different from any other country of the world, in that there are paedophiles, both domestic and foreign, who prey on little children for illicit sex. The one general difference up to now has been that Thailand and other Southeast Asia countries (and some South American and other countries) have a lot of very poor people who will work at just about anything in order to survive. This has even included allowing their own children to provide illicit sex, especially to foreigners who have a lot of money and are generally "nice" to the children in their own selfish and perverted ways. Rarely have paedophiles organized internationally, functioned exactly like a mafia group, and focused just on school children of all economic levels the way the group operating in your school has. In fact, I venture to say that this is the very first such group, and we must now kill it off fast before it is joined by others. Unfortunately, some of the people on the inside, and these could even include women, hold highly respected positions, which makes our work that much harder."

Khun Marisa sighed again, but this time it was a sigh of resolve, not despair. "Finally, Mr Iggie, you yourself may be in danger, and anyone associated with you may be also. Do you understand that?"

"Yes, I do," I said, almost expectantly.

"Well, do you know how to protect yourself?" she quizzed.

"I'm not altogether sure, but I'm going on the offensive, that much is sure. My object is to make them afraid to harm me or my girlfriend, for fear that some information I've given to someone else will then be revealed."

"That's it?" she asked with a smile, ironically.

"Yes, I intend to use a government minister's name, who they understand will be holding an envelope from me to be opened in the event of my death, or my girlfriend's death."

"It's risky. What else do you have to protect yourself?" she asked.

"I have my smile, my boldness and my irreverence. I will be very careful, though, where I go and what I do there. The final object is to make them think I am just a harmless, but sassy, fool. I think it might work."

Khun Marisa passed me a card. "I have your mobile phone number, in case I need it, as well as your e-mail address. E-mail me when you need anything, then delete your e-mail, but e-mail only when you can't reach me by phone. The name and phone number on the card I just gave you are shown to belong to a bookstore manager by the name of Nitiya, as you can see. That's me. My phone is on 24/7. That's all for now. I want to see what you can do without any instructions from me. Then there will surely be some instructions if you come up with something, as I hope you will!"

Next month, Part VII.

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