The Chiang Mai Chronicle: A Declan Power Mystery Read Online Free Page B

anything. But his tale was becoming too much like the flotsam and jetsam which make up the majority of the Chiang Mai farang scene: too much booze, too many dames, not enough honest labor. It was a dangerous cocktail. He’d meet up with him at Foxy Lady later that night.
    He took the World TEFL Center envelope into his hands. It was thick, a healthy stack of cash. Declan was getting paid. ‘But for what?’ Martin Gay was a skilled conman, a pro’s pro. Declan knew the type. South Boston was littered with the artist of the scam. Some big, some small, but they all had one thing in common: a sharp eye for detail. ‘Doc Martin’ was big. His con, at its height, was netting him in the neighborhood of 10,000 U.S. per month. ‘That’s a nice neighborhood,’ Declan whistled. Martin Gay knew detail.
    He walked over to the little safe they kept in the corner of their bedroom. He deposited the cash inside. His payment was secured. There was only one conclusion to draw. Declan Power was being paid to write a story. It was the only thing he could do with any competence, a fact known only too well to Martin Gay. He slapped his hands with determination. “Ok, Martin! You’ll get your story. How it helps you is anybody’s guess.”
     
    Chapter 2
     
    Loi Kroh. Chiang Mai’s red light district, Declan Power’s beat. He thought wryly about the meaning of the famous soi’s name. Loi Kroh: 'wash your bad luck away.' For Declan this indeed had been the case. But for many the opposite effect was true. Loi Kroh was not the place for the naïve. For the soi girls, the vixens who gleefully shouted ‘welcome, welcome’ from beneath the neon signs, they were dinner. The naïve buttered Declan’s bread too.  Legend has it that the regal founder of Chiang Mai, King Mengrai, listened to his priests who foretold of the spirits of the hills, spirits that bore evil intent, were held in check before the entrance to Loi Kroh from the river. It is widely believed they still wait. Patient devils, they sit biding their time for an equally menacing spirit to unlock the gate.
    And, Declan reckoned, they would most likely feel right at home amongst the broken concrete, street dogs, squid on a stick and its pungent aroma, underage girls hawking flowers, fortune tellers, and the string of beer bars offering a sexy short term future.
    Loi Kroh, to Declan, was not unlike a carnival. You take a risk. Some come out with a stuffed bear. Others, most probably, come out fleeced. Whatever the case, it was not an experience to be forgotten. Once inside, Loi Kroh exerted a strong pull. There were two options. Either take the risk or stay as far away as possible. Declan had taken the risk. He had walked away the stuffed bear.
    Oum gave him a deep kiss as she entered Best Bar. It was another of their small daily rituals. An intimate moment, a quiet drink, and then she sent him on his way. Two nights a week he dedicated to finding out the latest gossip, newest girls, and best interview subjects the naughty street had to offer. Tonight he had a tight schedule however. A meeting with the ‘Mayor’ at Stairway To Heaven had been arranged. After that he had promised to meet Ben at Foxy Lady. He grimaced at the thought. Ben was losing the plot. Declan recognized all the symptoms.
    Anyway, he was on a story. No time for social work and, in any case, there was no way to help a ‘farang’ falling over the edge.  That was one of the first rules the ‘Mayor’ had taught him. “Lend a hand and prepare to be taken round the bend.” Good advice.
    Declan wasn’t sure of the his friend’s fiduciary interest in the establishment, but the ‘Mayor’ had been occupying the same upstairs seat at Stairway To Heaven for as long as Declan had been in the city. If you needed an apartment, you talked to the ‘Mayor.’ If you needed to ditch a too clingy bar-girl, had money problems, needed a teaching gig, wanted a looker hooker to take down to the islands for a three day