The private investigator brought along a friend as an alibi; though he was American, he had been working in Bangkok for years, and they sat down in the bar the madam in Pattaya had mentioned to him that morning. He was curious to see her; he never would have thought she could stay in this line of work for so long without it crushing her, without being broken by all those years, all the horrible clients, and the many, many minutes, hours, or sometimes days that each short-term relationship lasted. He didn’t see her, and the girls up on the stage were just horsing around. They were young, but rather bored, speaking Thai and giggling. There were no other patrons in the bar besides the detective and his friend, and the girls did not treat the detective as they would a potential client. The men
