Richard Stevenson - The 38 Million Dollar Smile

Griswold was entirely calm. His months of meditation were paying off. He said, “I’ll make a statement. Aren’t you going to record it?”

“That won’t be necessary.”

“May I see the photos?”

“Of course.”

The general spread them out on his desk facing us. They were bad. Boys no more than eight or ten grimacing and crying as they were being penetrated by a foreigner who plainly was not Griswold — although Griswold’s face had been ineptly Photoshopped atop the face of the actual perpetrator.

Griswold said, “Where did you get these? That’s not me, despite the crude attempts to make it look as if it is.”

“These photos were on your computer.”

Pugh said, “A mistake has obviously been made. I am in possession of Khun Gary’s computer.”

“Perhaps you have one of his computers,” the general said.

“But this one was found in a hidden vault beneath the spirit house in Mr. Griswold’s condo here in Bangkok. And of course, the photos speak for themselves.”

Griswold said, “How much do you want? I have very little left. Basically just what’s left in the vault under the spirit house.”

“No money was found in your vault, Mr. Griswold. Just your laptop with these despicable pictures of your despicable acts.”

“So what do you want from me? What can I possibly offer you to secure my freedom, General?”

266 Richard Stevenson

“You can offer me nothing, Mr. Griswold. However, I am a man of mercy. The only thing I require of you is your absence from Thailand. Your visa to remain in Thailand was revoked half an hour ago. Members of my department will personally escort you to the airport at nine tomorrow morning. You will be placed on a flight to Frankfurt and you will never be admitted to Thailand again. We don’t want your ilk in our country. We simply will not stand for it.”

Griswold said, “What about the Sayadaw U center? Will it be built?”

The general smiled. “Of course, of course it will be built. If that’s what you’re worried about, have no fear. Your name will not be associated with the shrine, however, now that you have the taint of moral corruption on you. And I should mention perhaps that the center will be completed on a scale somewhat reduced from what you had in mind. Your idea of it was far too grandiose for Thai tastes. We are a humble people.”

Griswold sat quietly gazing at the general. After a moment, he said, “I still love Thailand.”

“Oh, even though it has disappointed you! I am relieved to hear that, Mr. Griswold. You are in many ways a good man — despite your proclivities. You are a man of spiritual depth and perspective. Perhaps after your soul has been purified by chaste behavior and generous offerings over a series of lives, you will return to Thailand under another, better guise. I am certain our immigration department would have no objection to that.”

Griswold said, “What about my friends here? They have done nothing wrong. Of course, neither have I. But it seems as if there is no point in discussing that.”

“No. You are correct. There is no point in discussing that.

But your friends will be released in the morning. Khun Rufus can resume his colorful career as Bangkok’s Mickey Spillane.

And Mr. Donald and Mr. Timothy will, I hope, enjoy some of the splendors of Siamese culture and civilization, and perhaps have a pleasant visit at one of our hundreds of excellent beaches. I don’t want them to return to America with a poor impression of my country.”

Timmy said, “I like your beaches, General. We’ve been to Hua Hin. But your criminal justice system leaves a lot to be desired.”

Had Timmy fallen off his bicycle and landed on his head? I had been determined to keep my mouth shut and leave for the airport at the first opportunity. I thought, My God, he’s turning into me.

But General Yodying nodded sympathetically. “I do apologize for detaining you, Mr. Timothy, and for doing so in our admittedly fetid accommodations. Do understand, however, that I could have left you all to rot over the weekend in that cell.

But I did not. In fact, I drove over here following my own sixtieth birthday celebration at the Dusit Thani to deal with Khun Gary and to assure the rest of your group that in the morning I will be totally out of your hair. I could have gone straight home with my wife or to my delightful girlfriend’s house. So don’t complain too much.”

Pugh said, “Today is your sixtieth birthday, general? Please let me offer my heartiest congratulations.”

“My birthday is actually tomorrow, the nineteenth,” the general said. “Ah, it’s after midnight now. If I may say so, happy birthday to me!”

Pugh sang out, “How wonderful!”

Pugh’s enthusiasm seemed weirdly misplaced, until we got back to our cell and he explained to me that the confluence of events he had just learned of was heavy with auspiciousness.

True to his soiled word, the deeply corrupt General Yodying had Griswold escorted out of our cell at nine Saturday morning.

Griswold’s passport had been retrieved from his apartment in Sukhumvit, and the police had picked up clean clothes for him too. He was also handed ten twenty-dollar bills for his immediate expenses once he arrived in Frankfurt. After that, he was on his own. The general said he would not notify Interpol that Griswold was a notorious sex offender, so long as Griswold left Thailand forever and didn’t raise a fuss about his having been bilked out of thirty-eight million dollars.

We all said good-bye to Griswold, and I told him how sorry I was that it had all turned out so badly for him. I asked him what I should tell Ellen and Bill.

He thought about this, and said, “Just tell them I said mai pen rai. And that I hope they enjoy the rest of their stay in Thailand. It’s really a lovely country.”

Griswold was led away, and we thought we would be leaving at the same time and stood ready to go. But a guard said, “You wait.”

Around nine thirty, a whole squad of corrections officers arrived at our cell. The sergeant in charge told us to take off all our clothes and hand them out. What was this? Were we going to be deloused? Hosed down? Gang-raped?

Anxiously, we disrobed and handed out our garments, including — as we were ordered to do — our underwear. One of the guards then passed out large plastic garbage bags, one to each of us. Holes had been cut for our arms to protrude, and when instructed to do so, we donned the garbage bags. Our money, wallets and keys, confiscated the day before, were returned to us.

We were then led out to a convoy of police vans and driven to Wat Pho, the magnificent temple that housed the largest reclining Buddha in Thailand. Hundreds of tourists were 270 Richard Stevenson queued up outside in the sunshine waiting their turn to enter the sacred shrine. They pointed and laughed as we were dropped off and the police vans drove away, and the tourists all got some great snapshots.

We had enough money among us to take taxis back to the safe house, where we had all left a few belongings. Timmy’s and my plan was to return to the Topmost, clean up, and then track down Ellen and Bill Griswold and try to explain how and why they had lost control of the family company despite their not being murderers, and why Gary Griswold was en route, or soon to be en route, to Germany.

My cell phone was at the safe house, and it had one message, from Ellen: “Call me at the hotel immediately.” I did call and when the Griswolds didn’t answer the phone in their room, I left a message at the Oriental for them to try me again. Maybe, I thought, they were among the throngs at Wat Pho waiting for a glimpse of the giant reclining Buddha and they didn’t recognize Pugh, Timmy and me dressed in garbage bags.