The Windup Girl полностью

The doors open. They come out on the roof. Fifteen stories into the air. The men shove him and Somchai toward the lip of the building.

"Go on," says the man. "You wait up here. Over by the edge, where we can see you."

They point their spring guns and order him forward until he and Somchai stand at the lip, looking down on the faint glows of the methane lamps. Jaidee studies the plunge.

So this is what it is to face death. He stares down into the depths. The street far below. The air waiting for him.

"What did you do with Chaya?" he calls back to the man.

The man smiles. "Is that why you are here? Because we didn't return her to you soon enough?"

Jaidee feels a thrill of hope. Could he have been wrong? "You can do what you want with me. But let her go."

The man seems to falter. Is it guilt that makes him hesitate? Jaidee cannot tell. He is too far away. Is Chaya dead then, for certain? "Just let her go. Do what you want with me."

The man doesn't say anything.

Jaidee wonders if there is anything he should have done differently. It was brash of him to come here. But she was lost already. And the man has made no promises, no taunts to suggest she is alive. Was he foolish?

"Is she alive or not?" he asks.

The man smiles slightly. "I suppose it hurts not to know."

"Let her go."

"It wasn't personal, Jaidee. If there had been another way…" The man shrugs.

She is dead. Jaidee is sure of it. All part of some plan. He shouldn't have let Pracha convince him otherwise. He should have attacked immediately with the full power of his men, taught Trade a lesson in retribution. He turns to Somchai. "I'm sorry about this."

Somchai shrugs. "You were always a tiger. It's in your nature. I knew that when I came with you."

"Still, Somchai, if we die here…"

Somchai smiles. "Then you will come back as a cheshire."

Jaidee can't help a bark of surprised laughter. It feels good, this bubbling noise. He finds he can't stop. The laughter fills him up, lifting him. Even the guards snicker. Jaidee catches another glimpse of Somchai's widening smile, and his mirth redoubles.

Behind them, footsteps. A voice. "Such a humorous party. So much laughter for a pair of thieves."

Jaidee can barely master himself. He gasps for breath. "There must be a mistake. We just work here."

"I think not. Turn around."

Jaidee turns. The Trade Minister stands before him. Akkarat in the flesh. And beside him… Jaidee's hilarity leaves him like hydrogen gusting from a dirigible. Akkarat is flanked by bodyguards. Black Panthers. Royal Elites, a sign of the palace's esteem to have them on his leash. Jaidee's heart goes cold. No one in the Environment Ministry is so protected. Not even General Pracha himself.

Akkarat smiles slightly at Jaidee's shock. He surveys Jaidee and Somchai as though examining tilapia in the market but Jaidee does not care. His eyes are on the nameless man behind him. The unassuming one. The one… Puzzle pieces click into place. "You're not Trade at all." He murmurs. "You're with the palace."

The man shrugs.

Akkarat speaks. "You're not so bold now, are you Captain Jaidee?"

"There, I told you you were famous," Somchai murmurs.

Jaidee almost laughs again, though the implications of this new understanding are deeply troubling. "You truly have the palace's backing?"

Akkarat shrugs. "Trade is in ascendancy. The Somdet Chaopraya favors an open policy."

Jaidee measures the distance between them. Too far. "I'm surprised a heeya like you would dare come so close to your dirty work."

Akkarat smiles. "I wouldn't miss this. You've been an expensive thorn."

"Do you intend to push us yourself, then?" Jaidee taunts. "Will you stain your own kamma with my death, heeya?" He nods at the men around them. "Or will you try to put the stain on your men? See them come back as cockroaches in their next life to be squashed ten thousand times before a decent rebirth? Blood on their hands for killing in cold blood. For the sake of profit?"

The men shift nervously and glance at one another. Akkarat scowls. "You're the one who will come back as a cockroach."

Jaidee grins. "Come then. Prove your manhood. Push the defenseless man to his death."

Akkarat hesitates.

"Are you a paper tiger?" Jaidee goads. "Come on then. Hurry up! I'm getting dizzy, waiting so close to the edge."

Akkarat studies him. "You've gone too far, white shirt. This time, you've gone too far." He strides forward.

Jaidee whirls. His knee rises, slams into the Trade Minister's ribs. The men are all shouting. Jaidee leaps again, moving as smoothly as he ever did in the stadiums. It's almost as though he never left Lumphini. Never left the crowds and the roar of gamblers. His knee crushes the Trade Minister's leg.

Fire crackles in Jaidee's joints, unused to these contortions, but even with his hands tied behind his back, his knees still fly with the efficiency of a champion's. He kicks again. The Trade Minister grunts and stumbles to the building's edge.