GANTIRA’S LONG hair framed a beautiful smile and a pair of brown eyes that rose upwards when curious and narrowed when angered or upset. She had thirteen different ways to smile and fewer than half of them meant happiness. She tiptoed around disputes where possible and let others dive into disasters if they chose to do so: it was the Thai way to do things.
Her father had money and she had never been without him or it. Bangkok was her home town but she was just as happy on the island of Ko Samui where she lived with her millionaire husband Shogun. Yes she was a bird in a gilded cage. She could spread her wings and spend his money. Life could be worse for Gantira. Much worse. She could have been that poor Finnish girl that died that day on the island. Killing was easier than dying.