You’ll lead them right into it. Lambs to the slaughter; one lamb, anyway. It’s a phrase you’ve always liked, a phrase you’ve used more than once. Ironically, it’s a phrase you picked up from Aubrey long ago. Sometimes you don’t care which one suffers, knowing one of them will. You go back and forth about which one it should be, and it gives you a thrill. Lena, the untamable one. The one who’s always interfering, trying to get too close. Aubrey, the one who stabbed you in the back. It’s the sweet ones who are most dangerous; you know it now.
They’ll find Anand, and Dane—or is it Dana now?—because you want them to. And when they do, they’ll know the truth, and they’ll suffer. The truth—your plan for them—will destroy them. It’s not the destruction itself that thrills you the most—though you’re looking forward to it—it’s the exhilaration of watching them as they learn that you’re alive and in control. It’s their inevitable terror. It’s perfect.
You finish an email to Anand asking for twenty more ounces of hash. He’ll freak out on you; he’ll think you’re a dealer. They’ll all think, “This is why Charlie did it—he owed a guy some money and couldn’t unearth the funds.” Or they’ll think, “This is why: Charlie was an addict. Disturbed. Went off the deep end.” It doesn’t matter what they think, you realize as you type. That’s just the cherry. What matters is that Anand will say the right thing. You know him.
At the bottom of your email, you mention to Anand that you’ll be seeing Dane in Bangkok soon. He’ll tell your girlfriends where Dane is, because he’ll want to destroy you. Lena will bite. Dane will play his role flawlessly, because he thinks you have the power to blackmail him. But the pictures you threatened him with? They were fakes.
He thinks you can ruin his life, but you can’t.
It’s all a lie.
But it doesn’t matter what’s true. It only matters what Dane believes to be true.
It hinges in part on Dane, on his ability to deceive.
And it hinges on Anand’s inability to keep his mouth shut, without even realizing it.
How much does it take to derail someone who trusts you?
It takes twenty extra ounces of hash. That’s the beauty of it. That’s all it takes.
20
Lena
This whole time, Aubrey has been morose and silent. The enthusiasm—or acceptance—that she had yesterday when I told her I’d yet again pulled the rug out from under her has failed to emerge today. She’s all scowly. We haven’t talked about what will happen if we find Charlie. A big “if.” I haven’t told her about where we’re going. A big shitty mistake.
Where we’re going is part of the reason I wanted to go now, like right now, during-the-daylight hours “now.” Aubrey thinks I’m just eager—I can tell by her patronizing looks and the way she rolls her eyes—but there’s more to it than that. Much as I would like to find a place to stay and shower and all that, I do not want to get to Nana Plaza too late. Partly because I’m afraid of what Aubrey will think. She’s so nice, so sheltered. It pains me to be the one to introduce her to the harsh realities of the world. Nana Plaza at night is a shitshow.
Unassuming in the daylight, it looms ahead of us now as the meter clicks its way up to 310 Thai bahts. Right now, you’d never guess Nana Plaza is a Bangkok nightlife gold mine. Club after club after club line streets that were developed in service of the sex trade industry. I know this because my mom is passionate about the human rights movement and donates major green to campaigns that fight violence against women, so guess what? Maybe it’s rubbed off a little. Music isn’t the only thing I care about.
We’ve arrived at one of the main streets where ladyboys work. I’m not sure what we’re going to find when we meet Dane, but I have my suspicions. It’s strange that Charlie never mentioned Dane, stranger still that he’s hanging out in a Thai nightlife strip known for being “fun” in a sketchy way. When the car lets us out in front of one of the prominent buildings on the street—a four-story concrete structure that’s open air and lined on each level with bars—I suppress a shudder for Aubrey’s sake. I’ve got to look in control; that’s what I do. Everywhere we go, it’s so obvious she’s never really traveled, and it brings out the protector in me. I mean, I guess this is scary if you’ve never done it before? I wouldn’t know, since I pretty much came out of the womb holding a passport.