Mystery of the Disappearing DOS, 

Part III

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 two parts yourself?

Part I: Click here.
Part II: Click here.

Now, on to part III....

I've certainly had my share of girlfriends, but I have to acknowledge that I've never been very sure of what to do when unexpectedly confronted by a girl who was naked – especially if this clearly was deliberate, as in this case. Seeing Wan facing me in the doorway unashamedly naked, I found myself for a moment quite petrified, while, at the same time, my greedy eyes were running up and down her lithe little body like they'd never beheld anything like this before.

"Don't stand there like stupid man!" she scolded laughingly and pulled me by my arms into her apartment. For a moment, I was in contact with her full nakedness and aroma. As the door closed, I noticed her discarded house robe lying abandoned behind it. I'm surprised I noticed anything at all, truth be told.

Just briefly taking everything in as well as I could under the circumstances, I saw that her apartment consisted of a soft looking, pink-and-white sofa and an alligator-colored lounge chair, a large exclusive(?) dining table with four chairs, plants and blooming flower pots artistically placed, one might say, in all conceivable locations, and numerous paintings and photographs on every wall. Two doors led away from the dining area, one, no doubt, to the kitchen, and the other to her bedroom.  ('Yes!' silently exclaimed my evil inner twin, much to my further embarrassment.)

Wan now twirled girlishly about, giving me a full view of every part of her body, then said, "You think Wan pretty girl, yes?"

"Yes, very pretty," I was able to get out. Indeed, more than just pretty. Like a lot of Thai girls who look ordinary when dressed, she was absolutely gorgeous when not. I liked what I saw, though I was dumbfounded about why I was seeing it. With an intention quite all their own, my eyes took in her full breasts and delectable nipples now tantalizingly erect, then skimmed down her taut belly and rested on the normally secret (I supposed) lower hair of her body, which, like that of some other Thai girls, was sufficient only to function as an adornment above, rather than as a cover to hide below, the pulsing sexual lips of her womanhood. (That, of course, was what any aroused man would consider to be appropriately 'naked' in a woman!) As she twirled about, I could not help but admire also her shapely and huggable bottoms. What was going on here? It was surrealistic!

I sat, or rather collapsed, down on Wan's lounge chair, scarcely invited – partly to retain what little remained of my composure, and partly to hide my obvious physical interest in her sexuality. I also tried desperately to remember the purpose of my visit and concentrated on what to say to get her communicating about Rick.

"I thought you were Rick's girlfriend," I ventured shakily, whereupon she straddled herself on my lap and hugged me tightly. "I love Rick," she said. "I love man, too, and I love you to find my love, Rick. You need girl. This thing I know! You ready for Wan already. Come to bed now?"

Against all my manly instincts, I somehow gently extricated myself from Wan's endearments and replied, "I am sorry, you're really, really beautiful, but I have a girlfriend already, and one's enough, at least for me. Sometimes more than enough!"

I sounded prudish even to myself, as I said this absurd, even silly, thing! If it were not for the importance of my 'mission', I doubt very much that Lek, my girlfriend, would have received such consideration under these circumstances, no matter how much I loved her. Poor Lek, and poor womankind, so fickle is an aroused man!

Anyway, having gained this small advantage, I continued, "Khun Wan, you are lovely, and I thank you truly for letting me enjoy with my eyes everything that Rick has already possessed in his arms. Now, if you will, please put on your robe again, because we have some really serious matters to talk about." (Truthfully, what these things were, I could not have said, but I knew my statement was true, and that these matters would out during the conversation that was about to begin.)

Obediently, she retrieved and hung her robe limply onto her body and sat opposite me on the sofa, head in palm and smiling indulgently, her luscious charms still not actually concealed. I sighed thinking, 'Well, why bother now, after all?' but persisted to ask the obvious, but silly-sounding, question, "Do you work?"

"Of course, I work! Everybody work. What you think?"

"What do you do?"

"I am call escort. Some man want girl show him around city, they call me. If I like, I take him."

"And you end up back here."

"Sometime, not often. Usually, I go him fancy hotel room. We both naked, make love, I enjoy so much if he nice! If he not nice, I want kill him and leave quick. One time, man burn we with cigarette before I leave." She opened her robe again to prove this, and showed me a small burn scar on her left breast. "This man, I hope he dead now!" Silently, I could only agree.

"Do you only escort men, or do you do women also?"

"Not polite question! I take only man. Some man, though, they like..."

"Like who?"

"Like many thing, maybe two pair, maybe two girl, maybe too young... I don't know, some man like many kind of thing in their bed! What about you, what you like?"

"I like only girls, good girls, you could say," I fended her off. "What about Rick? When did you first meet him?"

"Rick move in, I invite for coffee. He easy man to love. Not like you," she pretended to pout.

"So what happened last Wednesday evening?"

Wan's face tightened, and her smile seemed to lose its naturalness. "Nothing not the same. I see Rick go out with girl, not come back. Anyway, I not see him come back."

"Where did Rick like to go in the evening?"

"You say you his friend! I think you know where he go. Wan not know. Wan think he have many girlfriend. Him like drink, I know. He come back smell bad, sometime not walk straight. One night I let him sleep my bed, but not touch him. Really stink. Yecch!"

"So how did you know he didn't come back between last Wednesday and yesterday?"

"Wan not really know, but usually him go in, come out many time, not stay in room very long. I not see him come out, so I know in my heart something wrong. Also, he not hello me."

Suddenly her demeanor changed, and she seemed to be on the verge of tears. "I want Rick back, Khun Ig. He can have all the girl he want. I don't want someone hurt him. Him not do something wrong! I want him back. Please!"

"Who would hurt him?" I interrogated.

"I tell you enough," she said, as though alarmed. "Owner maybe tell you more, I don't know. Only know I want Rick back, Rick okay."

"Thank you for calling the landlord last night to take me to the hospital," I said, changing the subject. " I might have died."

"You welcome. I think you Rick's friend. You and the other one."

"Bill Wakely, you mean?"

"Yes, that him. I see him before, I know now. Somewhere. Don't know he good man or not. Don't know where I saw him before."

"Am I a good man, you think?"

"Yes, good man, I think very good."

"And you, are you a good girl?"

Wan suddenly looked sad, and a little hurt by this question. "I am not good girl," she said faintly after considering the question. "I am very bad. But I am good to make man happy!"

"Would you mind giving me the landlord's telephone number?"

"Yes, I write for you." She did so, and handed a note to me. "You want talk to him today?"

"Yes."

"I not sure he back yet. He have job outside city today, take all day."

"What kind of job?"

"Oh, you don't know? He kill, uh, he kill insect, I think you call 'extraterm..."

"Exterminator?"

"Yes, that his job! He kill bug. He kill insect. Tell Wan true, you like Wan, yes?"

"Yes, I do. I like Wan."

"You like Wan, you not tell landlord you talk to me first, okay? You call him telephone, you not tell him where you get him number, okay? Okay? You promise?" She looked almost frightened as she demanded this reassurance.

"Okay, I won't tell him. Thank you for seeing me."  At the door, I turned about to smile a goodbye, when my eye was caught by a photograph hung just inside the doorway. It was of Wan centered between a man I didn't know and a bearded man who looked otherwise a lot like Bill Wakely. Also, in rather deep shadows behind the pair, there was someone who appeared to be in religious garb of some sort. Really a rather weird positioning of persons. Feeling a bit startled, I tried to act as though I hadn't seen this and smilingly turned to leave the apartment.

Abruptly, however, I turned around in the doorway and asked Wan in a rather loud voice, "Last night,  Bill and I heard the sound of a child or a woman crying, just before we opened up Rick's door. Who was that, do you know, and what was wrong?"

At this, Wan looked as though she was going to faint, and held onto the arm of her sofa. "Maybe me, maybe new boyfriend," she said. "Maybe. Maybe not. You go now, and good luck you." So saying, she now pushed me with trembling hands out the door that she had just moments ago pulled me into. Her eyes showed that she wanted to say more, but her hands pushed the door closed as fast as she could get my body out. Unanswered also, and unasked, was the question of what kind of gas it was that had knocked me out, and why it was there in the first place. I certainly needed to maintain my presence of mind better – especially while under the spell of a woman!

On the way upstairs to see the landlord, Khun Pong (should he be at home), I started uncontrollably rubbing my eyes and massaging my throat. I had now really begun to suffer from the eye irritation and sore throat I'd been refusing to acknowledge all day. Caused by the gasing, no doubt. I definitely would be going back to the hospital the next day to get my blood test results. I also felt myself getting hungry now. After seeing the landlord, I still had to call Khun Pranee. It looked like it was going to be a long evening.

Locating the landlord's apartment was not hard, as not only was there a sign on his door to identify him, but from the apartment beside his came the shrill sounds of a woman nagging her husband, the most obnoxious nagging sound I believed I'd ever heard.

I knocked several times on Khun Pong's door, but there was no response, for which, as much as I needed to speak with him, I began to feel inexplicably relieved. I would now go for dinner and consider all of the little I had learned on this day.

After placing my order at a diner nearby, I considered that Khun Pranee may have had time enough to reach home, so I extracted her phone number from my wallet and called her number on my mobile phone.

"Hello," said a soprano voice which definitely was not Khun Pranee's. In fact, if I hadn't known better, I would have sworn it was Bik's!

Go on to Part IV.

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