“Or?”
“Falling from a height.”
“Falling from a height? Of course. Of course! They weren’t water-skiing at all.
? The Coroner’s Lunch ?
14
The Hairdresser’s Bruise
Siri got back from lunch at one-thirty. His arrival coincided with several unheard-of examples of Lao punctuality.
As Dtui reached the door of the morgue from one direction, three monks with cloths around their noses, carrying a rolled coconut mat, arrived from the other. Geung walked out of the office at exactly the same time. He was in a terrible state.
“Doctor S…S…S…” He was too flustered to get beyond that. Siri massaged his shoulders and focused him on his breathing while Dtui ushered the monks into the examination room.
“Mr Geung. What’s wrong?”
“Your o…o…office is…is broken.” He grabbed Siri’s hand and led him to the office door. Sure enough, the room had been turned over pretty thoroughly. Dtui, from a very polite distance, was seeing off the monks.
“Dtui. Could you come here, please?”
She stood between the two men and looked at the mess. “Ooh.”
“This happened in the last three hours. How’s the examination room?”
“Normal, and the storeroom.”
“So, they were obviously after something in here.”
“Oh, no. My comics!”
“Listen, Dtui, Geung, this isn’t a joke. This is all part of the danger I told you about before I left. This is why we all have to be very careful from now on. Do you both understand?”
“I understand. I understand,” Geung said, very serious.
Dtui nodded her head. “Yes, Doctor.”
“That’s good. I’m afraid the only officer I trust is away right now, but we’ll have to tell the police about this. Before we do, I want us to go in there and get an idea what’s missing, if anything. We’ll try not to disturb too much.”
Only one thing was gone: Dtui’s notebooks had been taken from her desk. All the notes, from every autopsy they’d done together, were missing. While they searched through the debris, Siri told them everything he knew about the Vietnam case, including the attempt on his life.
They came to the same conclusion, that whoever had ransacked the office had been looking for Nguyen Hong’s report.
“Dtui, hiding it was inspired thinking. Well done.”
“W…well done, Dtui,” added Geung.
“Give me a raise.”
“From now on, you two have nothing to do with the Vietnam case at all. I’ll take the file home and go through it. Wait, what about the photos? Did they get the autopsy photos?”
Dtui looked skyward. “No, they didn’t.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“Well, because they’re in Sayabouri.”
“Sayabouri? What are they doing in Sayabouri?”
“Well, you remember how it was Sister Bounlan’s wedding and we used the end of one film and the beginning of the next for the ceremony?”
“Don’t tell me.”
“She sent them all home to her family. They were in the same packet. Someone was leaving for Sayabouri and she wanted them to take the pictures. She came and picked it up from my desk when I was out. She didn’t have time to check.”
“I can imagine how much granny enjoyed that.”
“She didn’t. They were all as sick as dogs. They put the packet in the post the next day. Should be here by now.”
“You see? Even when you mess up, it’s perfect.”
“It is?”
“Certainly. If our visitors here wanted the notes so badly, I’m quite sure they’d have loved those pictures too. Maybe the pictures can tell us what these people are so afraid of us finding out.
“Mr Geung?”
“Yes, Doc…tor Comrade?”
“Dtui and I will get ready to look at our new guest. Would you be so kind as to go and tell Mr Ketkaew and the hospital administrators about what happened here?”
“Yes, I would.”
¦
Siri and his team were in the examination room. Two uniformed officers were sifting through the wreckage in his office. They worked with the unrequested and unwanted loud assistance of Mr Ketkaew. The officers had white hospital masks to keep out the smell from the next room. Ketkaew had a small bottle of smelling balm he snorted every few seconds. He was feeling bad; a major crime had taken place barely ten metres from where he sat working.
Neither team felt obliged to interfere with the other. When the police were finished, they left without saying goodbye.
¦
“You don’t suppose they’re reading my fan magazines in there, do you?”
“Dtui, will you please concentrate?”
“Sorry.”
Mr Geung giggled as he weighed the heart on the butcher scales suspended from the ceiling.
“Right. What unusual signs have we seen so far?”
Dtui closed her notebook and answered from memory. “One. There’s only one deep slash on each wrist.”
“And that’s odd because…?”
“Because wrist-slashers usually take two or three attempts to build up the courage to cut deep enough.”
“Good. Two?”
“Two. Hypostasis on the back of the victim suggests she was in a supine position after she died.”
“So?”
“So, she couldn’t have arranged herself leaning forward, with her arms in a bowl of water, without help.”
“Three?”
“Three. Face pale, body dark blue.”
“Indication of…?”
“Of asphyxia.”
“Wonderful. I think I’ll retire.”
“Before you go, tell me just how sure we are that she didn’t kill herself.”
“I’d say we’re ninety-two per cent sure. But just in case we need a few more percentage points, let’s take a little look in here.” He’d peeled back the epidermis from the neck and was cutting down through the muscle. He held open the folds and showed Dtui the larynx.
“Hmm. Haemorrhage.”
