By John Burdett
Sonchai Jitpleecheep, the religious Buddhist Royal Thai Police detective who led us throughout the top Bangkok eight and Bangkok Tattoo, returns during this blistering novel.
Sonchai has obvious nearly every little thing on his beat in Bangkok's District eight, yet not anything just like the snuff movie he's simply been despatched anonymously. Furiously fast paced and laced via with an erotic ghost tale that provides a brand new darkish twist to the lifetime of our hero, Bangkok Haunts greater than lives as much as the shrewdpermanent and darkly humorous originality of its predecessors.
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Additional info for Bangkok Haunts (Sonchai Jitpleecheep, Book 3)
There remained a great deal of summer to kill. Jamie spent most of it at Mel’s. Jamie and Mel had begun to grow truly close when Jamie’s lack of siblings began to impair Sam and Justine’s cheerful attempts at family holidays. Jamie was never able to make new friends quickly, and too much exclusive parental company bored and embarrassed him. So Mel looked after him while Sam and Justine were in Tuscany or North Africa or Rome. And because Mel didn’t mortify Jamie the way his parents did, it was she who took him away.
M. He couldn’t read. For weeks, he’d been carrying round the same spine-broken and unread paperback. Several times a day, he attempted to read a page, but even if he was able to muster the necessary concen34 ALWAYS THE SUN tration, he’d lost his place and the passages he read and re-read lacked context and continuity. Television didn’t relax him. It flickered and glimmered, spectral blue on the walls behind him. As it grew late, he lowered the volume. Yet it seemed to shriek ever more stridently.
Mel laid the stuff on the bed for Sam to inspect. It looked crisp and dense with the future. Sam looked at the school tie and felt his testicles retract. He remembered knotting an identical tie at his own throat. And he remembered the first few, terrified weeks of the first year. 40, dragging his bag on the pavement behind him. He hung the clothes in Jamie’s wardrobe. The sight of them, hanging there, made him feel sick, and he went to make a cup of tea. On what had become known as Jamie’s last night of freedom, Mel came round to cook a special tea.