Mystery of the Disappearing DOS, 

Part II

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 whole first part yourself? Click here. Now, on to part II....

"Stupid, that was really stupid!"

These quietly spoken words were the first thing I heard before I opened my eyes and came fully awake in the hospital. Of course, I didn't know I was in a hospital, which is why I asked the figure putting his mobile phone away a rather stupid question of my own, namely, "Where the hell am I?"

It was Bill Wakely. God! I never realized what an intimidating personage he could be, especially when one was lying down and he was standing up. He was really a monster of a gentleman, this ex-cop, muscularly built and towering over anyone else I knew, with closely cropped red hair, a square-cut face with a flattened nose and piercing gray eyes that seemed to look right into your most private self without finding much he liked there, either.  I realized that I had never actually looked at him so closely before, nor had had any reason to. We were just fellow teachers who met up fairly frequently between classes, and sometimes compared lesson notes. Besides, his normally gentle, reassuring manner of speech would disarm just about anyone frightened by his appearance.

"You're in Saint Peter's Hospital, just across from the school. Rick's landlord and I brought you over here in his car last night, right after you passed out."

"God, what happened? Let's see... I think I was just about to open Rick's door. I wonder why it wasn't locked! Anyway, yes, something smelled horrible! I could almost smell it now."

"Gas, that's what it was," said Bill. "If anyone had lit a cigarette or something, we wouldn't be here talking about it now."

"Well, why are you here, Willie Wakely?" I asked. "I mean, why are you standing there perfectly fine, while I seem to have been snoozing my life away all night right up until now?" Glancing at the table beside my bed, I spotted my watch, which showed a time of about 11.30. That was a long time to have been unconscious!

"I cheated," Bill explained almost earnestly. "I instantly sensed the presence of gas as soon as you'd turned the door knob and grabbed you around the waist, not only to keep you from going any further, but also to protect my own important self from the gas."

"Nice job," was my response. "That must explain why the door felt so heavy when I tried to open it. I did not, however, notice your having your mammoth paws around my delicate waist! That would've earned you a punch to the chops, for all the good it might have done. What happened next?"

"Well, I passed out myself for a second or two, but only after I'd rapidly pulled Rick's door  shut by using the door knob. So much for not getting fingerprints on that, I guess! Then, after I had come to, I rapped on the door of that girl, Wan's, apartment, and when she answered asked her to have the landlord come down right away. Seeing how weak I must have appeared and sounded, and you passed out on the floor, she actually did it!"

"So the landlord lives in the building."

"Oh, yes, name of Pong. Up on the fourth level, right next to the psycho."

"Psycho?"

"Yes, do you remember the loud gunshot we heard when we were going up the stairs?"

"That I do!"

"Well, this retired guy's got a nagging wife, big time, and he always lies low to get even with her at the earliest opportunity. The way he does that is wait until she nods off or is completely concentrated on something she is doing. Then, with his enormous stereo speaker system, he just plays one loud blast at full volume. This time it was a gunshot sound, and the reaction was the same as always. Startled out of her mind, she ran out of the apartment cursing and slammed the door as hard as it would go. Can't say I blame her, really!"

"It must scare other tenants, as well, though. Looks like the landlord would do something about it."

"Nothing he can do, as I understand it," answered Bill. "It's his own wife's brother. By the way, I didn't sit here holding your hand all night, in case you were wondering."

"I'm devastated! Did anyone else come?"

"Sister Srisuda came by to see you early this morning. I think she really likes you."

"Yeah?"

"Yes, I called her last night to let her know what had happened and told her not to worry, but she came by this morning anyway. She'd brought in substitute teachers for both of us already, and asked me to babysit. She arranged with the hospital for payment of your treatment and stay through the school social welfare fund. Actually, I'd done that for you already, but she went down to confirm it. Some other things have happened since then, too."

"Yeah, what things?"

"Well, all of the Mary statues at the school are now bleeding again like they'd had their throats cut! There are reporters over there everywhere again, writing up the new story. And that's not all, either, I'm afraid."

"What?"

"One of our students was reported missing by his parents last night. I think you may have him in one of your classes, too."

"What's his name?" I asked, wondering if I'd remember the student by his real name or not, since almost all of our students used nicknames, even on their study sheets.

"Let's see. Just a moment. Yes, it's... it's Wanchai. Wanchai Sukcharoen, I think. Yes, that's it: Wanchai Sukcharoen. He's kind of a smart aleck, I understand."

Wanchai. Wanchai Sukcharoen. Yes, yes, that was Bik! That had to be Bik! All the events of the previous day now came rushing back to mind: his physically stopping me, his saying he needed to talk, his fear that I'd thought was phony. My God, what could have happened to poor Bik? My conscience stabbed me pretty deeply, as I recalled these things.

"Yeah, I know him all right," I said. "But how do you know all of these things if you were with me?"

"I'm gonna give it to you straight, Filchworthy, I'm not a babysitter, and I'm not gonna sit with you. I'll tell you another thing, too. From now on, you keep your nose out of Rick's disappearnce. You're not equipped for it, and you could get really hurt. The police and I will handle it."

I could have laughed at the absurdity of this (the Thai police force being what it is, and is not), except that behind those deadly gray eyes of his, Wakely looked alarmingly serious, and I had little doubt that it was not my welfare he was concerned about, but his own. One thing I resolved on instantly: I would not allow Willie Wakely to prevent me from doing what I now realized was entirely up to me to do, namely find Richard Keyhorn – dead or alive, if necessary, but find him I must, and I would. This sudden resolve on my part was actually startling in itself.

Of course, I said nothing to Wakely of this determination, and I sat up, found my own clothing and began to get dressed. "Thanks for the babysitting, anyway, Bill," I said, "but I'm going to go rest up at home, and prepare to resume my classes tomorrow. You probably need to do the same."

"Yes, I must, as a matter of fact," he replied. "However, while you're getting dressed, I'll see the nurse and the cashier and tell them you're slipping away."

"Yes, thank you. I'd appreciate that."

Shortly after that, a very nice nurse came in and graciously (under the circumstances) offered me what I'm sure is a typical hospital lunch, which I  gulped down gratefully nonetheless.  Following that, another nurse led me to a reception window outside where I was given some pills and an appointment to have a CT scan done of my lungs. I was also told to check back the following day for the results of my blood tests, to determine whether I was going to die or not, I suppose.

It was now early afternoon. After leaving the hospital, a little shakily at first, to be sure, the one place I did not walk to was my own apartment. I went straight to the school, to Sister Srisuda's office. On the way, I did indeed have to step carefully around a horde of reporters, who were all having a marvelous time photographing the seemingly never-ending flow of "blood" from the statues of Virgin Mary.

My object in this mission was to assure the good Sister that we would indeed find Rick. On entering the office area, though, I was first met by the "water girl" (actually secretary/receptionist), whose name I knew, vaguely, was Pranee. After returning Pranee's wai (the polite Thai greeting), I said, "Khun Pranee, I need to meet with Sister See", as Sister Srisuda was informally called. "Is she in?"

Pranee was a primly dressed young lady of perhaps 23, with a remarkable beauty, one sensed, lying just beneath the Catholic modesty of her makeup and attire, as suggested by her perfect, creamy flesh, her delicate face and full lips and the streamlined elegance of her dance-worthy fingers. Now, however, there appeared to be an ever-so-slight frown on her expressive face and a look of apprehension in those deep eye pools of hers that would haunt one forever, I thought, if you looked in them long enough.

"Yes, Sister had lunch in," she said, but spoke much more than this, somehow, though in a different and very inexplicable way. Whatever it was that she was attempting to communicate in this manner thoroughly excaped me, I had to admit, and for that I felt suddenly a sincere kind of grief, along with a desire to eventually find out what it was.

In any case, Khun Pranee went to Sister See to announce my arrival, and then immediately waved me in to Sister's desk, where I was invited to sit. To her credit, Sister showed undisguised pleasure at seeing me, and in knowing that I was now alright. I was just in the process of assuring her that we would indeed find Acharn Rick, no matter what, when her telephone rang. She answered the call, of course, politely excusing herself. As I then watched her listening to the party on the other end, I saw her face grow pale, and listened as she expressed sincere concern about some matter that I could not identify. Upon hanging up the telephone, she looked straight at me with a strained face that made her look considerably older than she really was.

"That was the parents of one of our students, Mr Wanchai Sukcharoen – one of your own students, I believe, Ig. They say he's been missing since after school yesterday, and they've reported it to the police."

"What? Did you just find out?" I blurted out confused, immediately regretting my stupidity.

"Yes, of course, I just found out. What about you, Ig? Did you by any chance already know something about this?"

"No, not at all," I corrected myself. "I just meant it's afternoon already, and I wonder why somebody didn't tell you sooner?" (So, I was wondering, How the hell did Wakely learn about this before the Sister did? How, indeed!)

To an outside observer, my soul must have appeared far away then, while on another level of consciousness, as though from a great distance, I heard the sister admonishing me, "A foolish question, Iggy! If you're a parent, you want to find your child first. Then you're going to worry  about telling the school why your child is absent later on!"

"Of course,  Sister, I'm sorry. I wasn't even thinking about it in that way."

After some more small talk, but talk never drifting far from the concerns on both our minds, I took my leave. No sooner was I out the door, however, than Pranee rushed up and shoved a small piece of paper into my hand. "This is my phone number," she said. "Call me at home tonight. It's extremely important!" Then, like a naughty child, she rushed back into her place of work.

I knew where I was going now, in order to take full advantage of my being free for the day. I would go to Rick's apartment building once more and see what I could learn. I therefore flagged down a passing samlor (Thailand's three-wheeled motorized tricycle terror), and proceeded as fast as the meandering driver could take me right to Rick's apartment house.

My ultimate intention was to meet the landlord to thank him for getting me to the hospital, but also to find out from him everything I could which would be useful regarding Rick.

Once having arrived, however, I found my unruly feet proceeding directly up to Rick's floor and to the door of Khun Wan's apartment. Without a plan in my head, other than, perhaps, to find out if she knew where the whimpering Bill and I had heard was coming from, I knocked on her door like the complete idiot one truly is when he allows himself to be ruled by any body part other than his brain.

After a few seconds, the door slightly opened, and Khun Wan stuck her head out smiling. "You here to help Mr Rick, I know. That very good! You my friend now, you be sure!"

So saying, she now opened her door all the way and stood there like a beauty queen. Completely naked.

Next month, Part III.

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