Outside the overwater villa complex, Li Ye lay prone on the sand, meticulously rubbing coarse grains between his fingers. The sand was gritty, slightly prickly, mixed with coral fragments, shell shards, and tiny, colorful pebbles.
He carefully recalled the sight of the second body. As soon as he pulled back the sheet, a smell even more pungent than Mark's, a thick, salty, fishy stench, hit him. Somkhun "blerg-ed" and threw up.The victim was a Chinese-Singaporean male in his fifties, his body presenting starkly different signs. His face was more swollen and pallid, blood-tinged froth still bubbling from his nose and the corner of his mouth. His hair and skin were crusted with sea salt and sand grains.
Kevin, holding a handkerchief over his own nose while Somkhun retched, managed to say, "Louis, passport name Liu Zongren, Singaporean Chinese, a senior executive at a large corporation." According to his wife, Louis had been feeling unwell since hearing about Mark's death. What was meant to be a relaxing vacation had turned into a storm of tragedy and confinement, and it affected his mood. Later, despite worsening waves and a looming typhoon, he apparently snuck off alone for a free dive—no life vest.
Like Mark, he simply vanished. When his wife realized he hadn't returned long after, she frantically begged the hotel for a search. But the typhoon was raging; rescue divers couldn't go out. His body was only found washed up on this beach the next day.
"Louis stayed here with his wife and kid," Ada said, squatting beside Li Ye and pointing towards the overwater villas. "One with a private pool. And Louis definitely drowned. Remember the froth at his mouth? White mixed with pink. That's classic—white foam from seawater irritation in the lower airways, pink foam from hemolysis higher up."
Li Ye squinted at her. "How can you be sure he drowned while free diving?"
"Because he had nothing on him. His wife said his life vest was still in the room, but his snorkel mask was missing. So he took that. When we found the body, the mask was gone—probably lost at sea." Ada leaned closer. "And there was still fine sea sand embedded under his fingernails. That means he struggled underwater, fought for his life. His skin was wrinkled like a washerwoman's—he'd been soaking for at least three hours."
She continued confidently,"When he was found, he also had large scratches on his knees, elbows, and thighs, as well as an impact wound on his head,.He probably hit a coral reef. Since there was also a hemolytic reaction, it's very likely that while he was diving, he was thrown against the rocks or coral by a huge wave, causing extensive abrasions. The waves might have then pushed him into deeper water, which could have caused him to panic and led to him taking in water and drowning. That panic would've made him inhale water, sealing his fate."
Li Ye frowned, flipping through photos on his phone. "Something's not right."
"Huh? What do you mean?" Ada looked surprised.
"The sand under his nails doesn't match." He turned the screen toward her. "See here? This beach has coarse coral sand. It's normal for it to stick to his outer skin if he washed up here. But under his nails? That's fine, soft sand—and it's packed deep. He struggled somewhere else."
Ada looked around, thoughtful. She pointed toward the beach villas. "That kind of fine sand is more common in the swimming area over by the beach villas. There's a rip current out there. Maybe he was carried out by the rip current, and after he drowned, the ocean currents carried him back here from a distance."
She paused. "But, the seabed with the coral reef is much prettier. And he could go straight into the water from his own water villa's stairs. Why would he go all the way to the beach swimming area? There's hardly any coral there. Fewer fish, too. Only thing out there—maybe some baby sharks. They like shallow areas."
"You think that's suspicious?" Li Ye's eyes lit up.
"Ah! I get it now," Ada snapped her fingers. "The resort roped off the reef area when the typhoon alert came in—warning signs and everything. He probably didn't want to be seen entering the water here." She scratched her head. "Or maybe… he didn't want his wife and kid to know. The guy seemed kind of… henpecked."
"Hen… what?"
"*Henpecked*… means afraid of his wife? Or just very devoted? Haven't you Thai Chinese heard that?" Ada looked slightly embarrassed. "Not saying you're not Chinese enough! I only moved to Thailand from China a year ago."
Li Ye gave a slight nod. After a moment, he asked, "Why would he be afraid?"
"Devoted, I guess? They were an older-husband-younger-wife pairing. She's over twenty years younger." Ada's expression turned gossipy. "I peeked at their ages. So, he was constantly doting on her."
Back in the lobby, Somkhun faced Mrs. Louis, feeling awkward and at a loss for words. Her grief was overwhelming—less like a wife who'd lost her husband unexpectedly, more like a daughter who'd lost her father. Mrs. Louis looked about Ada's age. Dressed in a doll-like Chanel puff-sleeved dress, she seemed even more childlike than Ada. In the days since losing her husband, she'd not only borne her own grief but also soothed her child with tales of Daddy going home early.
"Alright, Mrs. Louis, I understand you're upset," Somkhun said, rubbing his temples as her wails grated on him. "You still haven't told me why Mr. Louis snuck off to dive near the beach villas?"
"I was scared," she sobbed. "They'd found a dead man in the lotus pond! I'm terrified of dead people. I hid in our room, too scared to come out. He was in a bad mood too, said he wanted to swim. But it was forbidden near our villa, and the waves were rough. I told him not to go. But… in the evening, he just slipped out." She suddenly remembered something. "He liked the sharks in the shallows. Our son loves sharks; we have so many shark toys at home."
It wasn't Louis's first time diving there. He'd gone alone on their first day. He was confident in his health and swimming skills, hated life jackets, felt they hindered him. He'd even said: "Don't be fooled by how small the baby sharks are, only 60 or 70 centimeters long. They're different from other fish and turtles; they seem to have their own thoughts, like humans. They'll stare at me as if they're thinking, and they'll even lead me into deeper water. They're full of a mysterious, dangerous energy, but the experience is sacred, like communicating with the spirit of nature." She couldn't understand any of it.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa! Must clarify," Kevin interjected quickly, sensing liability."We *did* put warning signs up near the beach area too. He went anyway. That's not on the hotel."
Somkhun looked at Mrs. Louis, a pang of pity striking him. She seemed like a princess—a discarded one. She had a youthful, baby-faced roundness with pronounced under-eye bags. Her nose wasn't particularly high-bridged, but the tip was rounded. Full, pouty lips and a soft chin gave her what some might call a "face believed to bring husband good fortune." She'd been just a teenage apprentice at a hair salon in Shenzhen, she explained, barely twenty when she met this Singaporean man twenty-five years her senior. She'd drifted into the relationship, gotten pregnant, married in a haze, and followed him to Singapore. Now their child was only five.
The past five years had been spent basking in his indulgence, her experience limited to homemaking. How would she face life alone? She seemed utterly dependent, always deferring to her husband, revolving solely around the child. Louis, a father late in life, had doted on both wife and child. They were inseparable. She seemed naive, asking simple, childish questions: *Thailand still has a king? Why are there adult channels in the room? Why restricted alcohol sale times? What's the Four-Faced Buddha compared to the Buddha? Why so many foreign brides in Singapore?* He'd explain, half-teasing, half-patronizing, then tell her women shouldn't worry about such things; just focus on the child.
Even though she was decked out in luxury brands, her style was conservative—high necklines, no cleavage, not even an open-back swimsuit.
"He loved me," she sobbed. "Sometimes he got jealous. But only because he wanted to protect me."
Once, a male guest glanced at her in the pool. Louis immediately asked the staff to bring a towel to cover her up. The male of the Hong Kong couple who came with them, a documentary director named Ah Kai, liked to constantly film with his camera and phone. He accidentally filmed her in her new swimsuit, and Louis found out. Louis almost got into a fight with Ah Kai to get him to delete the footage. Ada had to intervene to prevent a conflict.
She glanced toward the lobby entrance, where Mark's wife was taking a walk. Once sure she couldn't hear, she whispered, "People say I'm old-fashioned, but that's just who I am. I like proper clothes. Proper places." She'd only been to the resort bar once, ordered a non-alcoholic drink, and never returned—too noisy, too improper. IBack in Shenzhen, when Louis was courting her, he'd taken her to a nightclub once. She'd been terrified, crying, feeling like she was in a den of demons. That very innocence, however, had captivated Louis. Even walking Patong Beach, seeing the dancers beckoning customers from nightclub windows made her blush and hurry away. Sipping a mocktail at the resort bar was her most "daring" act.
She couldn't handle anything on her own. Once, she bought a swimsuit with Louis's credit card, but he made her return it—too revealing, in his opinion.
Somkhun stepped back, lit a cigarette, and muttered to Kevin, "She's so obedient—how'd she get into a fight with someone?"
Kevin shrugged. "The guy who complimented her figure… was Mark. He probably meant nothing. He's just that type—friendly. They arrived on the same boat, right?"
That boat seemed to have started a palace drama.
Mrs. Mark, striving to maintain her 'lady' persona, often mocked Mrs. Louis's expensive yet dowdy style. Mrs. Louis, playing the helpless princess, would run crying to her husband, and Old Louis always found subtle ways to one-up Mark.
On their second day, Mark, celebrating their 'Green Card honeymoon,' planned to splurge on a seafood feast and a bottle of Latour specially shipped in. Somehow, Louis found out. Perhaps retaliating for Mark's casual flirtation with his wife, Louis preemptively booked the most expensive bottle of Latour. He opened it right in front of Mark, even offering Ada and Kevin a glass, seemingly to humiliate him.
After losing this wealth display, Mark didn't try to out-spend Louis. Instead, he aimed to wound Louis's pride elsewhere. He seemed to know Louis's weakness. Mark started performing intense beach workouts, flexing his muscles ostentatiously, then passionately kissing his wife right there. He remembered that Louis, despite sipping top-tier wine, popped fistfuls of supplements before and after meals. Mark figured robust physicality was the ultimate insult to the older man. Sure enough, Louis, witnessing this vulgar display, promptly whisked his wife back to their villa.
Ironically, perhaps responding to her husband's public display of affection, Mrs. Mark began massaging Mark on the sun lounger—setting the stage for the later confrontation with Kelly over the chair.
"These people are dramatic as hell," Somkhun muttered, jotting notes in his pad: Sugar baby wife, pampered into helplessness. He chugged half a can of beer and turned to Kevin. "Your guests are wild.Who's next? The Wu family? I see three relatives on that list."