A short ‘dark’ story. You can read Dark Novels at https://colindevonshire.substack.com/p/glorious-food?sd=pf

Glorious Food

Keng had always hated English men. It wasn’t just a dislike but a burning, all-consuming loathing. But why? While studying “Fine Food” in Europe, she visited London and dated a Londoner; nothing came of the dalliance. So why did she hate the Brits? She guessed she knew where it came from, believing that it had started when she was just a little girl and her mother was brutally murdered by somebody, presumably the chef in the kitchen she worked. It was never proven. But she could not shake off the belief he was English. And she didn’t want to.

She was a Thai woman who had always felt like an outsider in her country. Keng was skilled in French, Italian and Greek cooking, and Thai cuisine dragged way behind. She had grown up in a small village in northern Thailand, and her mother had been the only person who had ever really understood her. Her father had been absent for most of her childhood, and when he was around, he bragged about how rich he would be one day. But her mother had been different. She had been kind, patient, and loving, plus a fantastic teacher about life, but she specialised in kitchen skills. She had always listened to Keng’s stories and dreams and encouraged her to be whoever she wanted.

But one day, when Keng was just ten, her mother was taken away. She had been working as a kitchen hand in a wealthy Englishman’s house, and there was a large party. Many guests were drunk, and one attacked her early in the evening. Sir Archibald Perrin was a famous aristocrat with businesses ranging from banking to shipping, and huff huffed the incident away. Keng had heard the screams, but she arrived too late. Her mother was already dead. Her battered body was on the floor of the kitchen. The police came and went. There were no arrests except the vegetable peeler—a fourteen-year-old half-wit boy.

From that moment on, Keng’s life had been consumed by rage. She had never been able to forgive the Englishmen, the house owner or the chef she blamed for killing her mother, and she had never been able to forget. Instead, she had spent years dreaming about her revenge, waiting for the right moment to strike.

And now, as she stood in the bustling streets of Bangkok, she knew that the moment had finally arrived. She had spent years learning everything she could about the man who hosted the party in his luxurious home where they had killed her mother. She knew his name, his face, and his every move. And she knew that he was here, in Thailand, living a life of luxury while she suffered with hideous nightmares of her mother’s body spreadeagled on the tiles.

Sir Percival had booked a table at her restaurant and was due to meet a chef. She couldn’t believe her luck.

Keng had spent the last few years building up her criminal empire. Her restaurant was thriving, but it was not enough. So she dabbled in under-the-counter powders that she could cook up. Meth was easy to cook up if you had the right ingredients. She did. Eventually, she trained a few trusted staff members to take over the operation. She had started small, dealing drugs to tourists and wealthy Thai teenagers. She had quickly risen through the underworld ranks. She was now one of the most feared women in Bangkok, with a reputation for brutality and cunning.

She had assembled a team of loyal followers, men and women who would do anything for her. And she had spent months planning the perfect revenge. She knew that she couldn’t just kill the Englishman. She wanted them both to suffer, just like she had suffered.

She studied the knight’s habits, routines, and weaknesses for months. And she had discovered that he had a liability for beautiful young Thai women. She knew that he had a girlfriend, a teenage woman who was the envy of every man in Bangkok. And she knew that this was her way in.

Keng had used her connections to find the young woman, and she had offered her a deal. ‘Get me a pretty young girl,’ Keng ordered. If she agreed to help Keng, she would be paid handsomely. And if she refused, she would be killed.

The young woman had no choice but to agree. She knew that Keng was not a woman to let down. And she also knew that her boyfriend was not the kind of man who would let her go if he thought she was cheating on him. So she would follow Keng’s orders, grab any jewellery and cash from Archie, and disappear.

So Keng and her team had set their plan in motion. They had lured the Englishman to a seedy bar in one of the city’s poorest neighbourhoods, where he was sure to stand out. And they had set the trap. Hidden cameras snapped shot after shot.

As soon as he arrived, Keng’s team swarmed around him, distracting him and leading him to a private room. A fourteen-year-old beauty had been waiting there, dressed in a revealing outfit and looking every bit the seductress. She had led him to the bed, and they had begun to make love.

Without realising he had been set up, he continued his get-about lifestyle.

Besides her drug cooking, Keng was a renowned chef in her small part of Bangkok. Her restaurant was jam-packed with locals and tourists who craved her delicious meals. She had worked hard to achieve her success, spending years studying in France and Italy to perfect her craft.

One day, a chef named Richard walked into her restaurant, looking for his host. He was well-dressed and seemed to have money to burn. Keng greeted him warmly and offered him a seat. The men ordered several dishes and complimented each one as they ate.

The next day, Keng received a call from Richard. He told her he had been sick all night after eating at her restaurant. He claimed the food had been poisoned and would sue her. ‘What game was he playing,’ she wondered.

Keng was devastated and dreaded that meth had somehow entered the recipes. She had never had a complaint before and couldn’t believe someone would accuse her of such a thing. However, she knew she had to get to the bottom of it before she could accomplish her plan.

She started by examining the ingredients she had used that night. She had purchased everything from her usual suppliers and couldn’t find anything that seemed out of the ordinary. Next, each staff member questioned and grilled until Keng was satisfied with their answers. They promised none of them had made a mistake. Then she thought about Richard himself. He had been the only person to order the specific dishes that he claimed made him sick, and there was no mention of illness from Sir Archie. Keng began to wonder if Richard alone had something to do with it.

She decided to do some investigating of her own. She went to the local hospital and asked for Richard’s medical records. She was shocked to see no evidence of poisoning or any other illness. Keng knew then that Richard had been lying.

Keng confronted Richard, and he finally admitted the truth. He had never been sick, but he wanted to scare her into giving him a share of her drug business. He expected to run his drugs under cover of cooking for Sir Archibald. Keng was furious but also relieved that her food was not to blame. She had an idea to use one Englishman against the other.

Keng learned a valuable lesson from experience. She realised that success could make her a target and needed to be more careful about who she allowed into her establishment. Hatred had blinded her. She continued serving delicious food, but she was always aware that someone could be out to harm her reputation—one as a food cook and two as a drug cook.

The naive business owner had her plan set in motion. Richard was to blackmail Sir Archibald, and that news would ruin them both.

She rented the ballroom of a 5-star hotel by the beach and invites handed to movie stars, entertainers, Sir Archibald and top chef, Richard.

All drinks and food would be tampered with Keng’s “other” cooking. The guests would start hallucinating, and their memories would be muddled. Richard’s phone was used to film “his friend” molesting stars on stage and screen, and then Sir Archibald made love to the roasted pig. The video was better than Keng could have imagined. Finally, she used Richard’s name to blackmail the knight.

The next day, Richard was found dead.

Proof handed to senior police officers proved Sir Archibald’s guilt. The film from Richard’s phone was too much for even Archie’s wealth to cover.

A fourteen-year-old beauty’s father shared Sir Archie’s cell. But not for long.


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