Wednesday

Gay Murder in Paradise...


At about four in the morning, I was rudely awakened by the sound of shouting and banging from the bungalow next door.
“Peter! Look for me, Peter! Let me in!”
It was the voice of the slim young Thai man with the leopard skin briefs. (Although whether or not he was still wearing them I could not tell you – being way too tired to get up and look).
Bang, bang, bang! “Peter!” his voice was strident now and not soft and sensual like how it had been when I had met him on the path. “Look for me, Peter! I tell you!”
“Fuck off, you dirty f***ing slut! You dirty f***ing whore!”
It was the portly middle-aged German man. His voice was low, venomous and filled with hatred. “Fuck off back to your other boyfriend!”
“Not my other boyfriend, Peter! I love just you! I tell you!”
“Why were you…? (There then followed an unpleasantly graphic description of a sexual act) …then, eh? You were blatantly….(more unpleasantness) …at the Apache Bar. You filthy SLUT!”
His voice rose on the last word. Evidently, it was a subject he had strong feelings about.
“Not mean anything to me, Peter. Just fun for me. I love you, Peter! Let me in!”
“How can you love me when you only met me three days ago?! Now F*** OFF! I NEVER want to see you again!”
He was shouting harshly now. The slim Thai man didn’t like this.
“Look for me, Peter! I give your money back!” he suggested.
“F*** off!” “I tell you, Peter. I give your money back…it’s promise. I not go to Police now. Look for me…” “F*** OFF!”
This went on for several minutes with not much variation except that both mens' voices became increasingly emotional. Finally, the slim Thai man decided to change tactics.
”You not look for me, Peter! I DIE for you, Peter!” he shrieked. “I LOVE you, Peter!”
“F*** OFF!”
There came the sudden sound of smashing glass and then a low groan. “I die now, Peter! I die for you…” (Muffled sob.) “I die for you now, Peter… Look for me…”
...There then followed a short silence broken only by the (presumably) dying groans of the slim young Thai man. Then came sounds of doors opening, of people exclaiming and calling out. I recognized one of the voices as being that of friendly gay English man from the bungalow opposite.
"F***! Get a towel quick... doctor... he needs a doctor immediately... what happened?"
(The middle aged German man's voice - he sounded worried now). "He kept threatening to call the police... met him in a bar... came back late on drugs... crazy... slut... jealous... no need for police..."
(Other voices I did not recognise). "Is there a doctor on this island? Bind that towel more tightly... hasn't stopped bleeding... speedboat... need a speedboat... doctor on mainland..."
(Middle aged German) “Slut…I saw him giving that American a blowjob in the bar…f***ing slut! Paid him 5000 for this trip as well…”
(Friendly gay English man) "It's two grand for the speedboat...are you going to go with him?"
(Middle aged German man) "Yes, I'll go with him...slut! I'll pay for the boat... no need for police..."
He must have been in Thailand long enough to know that farang sex tourists are a major source of income to many low paid policemen.
I got and went to the window. The slim young Thai man was sitting in a pool of blood, a towel wrapped tightly around his forearm. He was still dressed in his skimpy leopard skin bathing trunks. A crowd of people gathered around him.

To be continued…