Spicy, Saucy, Subtle, Seasoned: A Thai Meal of Mystery

With ?Bangkok Haunts? John Burdett has now written three delicious detective yarns set in Bangkok?s underbelly, and the only thing that seems more far-fetched than some of his plots is that Hollywood has yet to put any of them on the screen. Granted, Sonchai Jitpleecheep doesn?t exactly roll off the tongue like, say, James Bond. But Mr. Burdett?s half-Thai, half-farang (Thai for Westerners) Buddhist cop hero is made for Hollywood. Bring on the wide-angle shots of Bangkok street chaos and the broody, shadowed silhouettes in houses of ill repute. And how about the Kalashnikov-toting monk, the pre-op transsexual assistant, the beautiful, demonic hooker and the grisly plot twist that will have you reconsidering those cuddly nature-show portrayals of elephants?

No self-respecting thriller novelist dispenses with the treasured cliches of the genre. It?s what the writer does with them that counts, and Mr. Burdett doles his out with a witty, idiosyncratic flair, indulging readers? taste for the exotic, even as he lets them smile knowingly at others? less-enlightened tastes. “Right, farang?” as Sonchai would say. Of course the vaunted state of wedded bliss doesn’t often figure into Mr. Burdett’s plot twists. It?s true Sonchai is now married to Chanya, the main prostitute in ?Bangkok Tattoo,? a somewhat troubling development for the hero of a detective series, especially when a returning love interest turns him into an adulterer. But Mr. Burdett neatly sidesteps this potential character blemish through magical means.

Is it technically adultery when the woman involved is a powerful, malevolent spirit who bends all men to her will? No, it?s a win-win situation, in which readers get their dose of tortured, it-can’t-end-well-for-them sex scenes, and Sonchai gets to come out smelling like a rose. But even if we have to deal with the now-wholesome Chanya (pregnant, no less) until Mr. Burdett can figure out how to fix that narrative faux pas and render his hero footloose again, there are plenty of unreformed characters to distract. ?my deepest affections are reserved for Vikorn, with his larcenous schemes and his smirks “of undiluted triumphalism,” and Lek, the transsexual in process. Even though ?the more he takes of the estrogen, the less defense he possesses against idle flattery,? Lek remains a dedicated assistant. Sauntering up to his boss?s desk one afternoon, he “has something of the weary professional about him,” despite long hair, a hint of rouge on his cheeks and a “yaa dum aromatherapy inhaler” stuck in one nostril.

“I’ve been chasing leads all day,” he explains, switching nostrils, “and it’s hot and stinky.” There are fine points to be quibbled over if one wants to be a bore but, really, what more can you ask from summer reading than passages such as this? “Bangkok Haunts” is a book to be gobbled up at top speed, preferably while wearing sunglasses and drinking through a twisty straw. The inhaler is optional.