“He claimed to be a friend of Hiro in Thakhek, which we now know was a lie.”

“So how does he fit into this story?” asked Daeng.

“Well, that’s just it. If he says he knew Hiro on active duty in Thakhek and the name of his commanding officer, what does that tell you?”

“Damn, he’s read the diary.”

“You see?” said Siri. “I told you this was all going to turn out to be fun.”

Beer was waiting for them at the dock as if he had some innate boat-owner radar. They paid the boatman generously and asked him to make himself available in case they had any more work for him. They had questions but they could wait. They went to the bad noodle shop that had been miraculously transformed into a happening nightclub and bar through the magic of flashing Christmas lights. There was music, Thai pop on a cassette player, but Siri asked for it to be turned down. The other customers didn’t object because there were none.

“Do you suppose this place would even be here without us?” Siri asked.

They ordered beer and quail eggs, which should have given them enough nutrients to serve in lieu of a meal. Beer, at Daeng’s insistence, ordered dinner for himself. He’d teased them with promises of fascinating news from across the river. He opened his shoulder bag and took out Hiro’s diary and a notebook of his own. Siri took the diary. He ran his fingers over the leather with renewed respect. He’d read it the first time as a journal documenting life in a small town during wartime. Now he could read it again as an act of therapy, an insight into the troubled mind of a broken man pulling himself back together with words. It added so many layers to Siri’s love of reading.

“Kyoko-san didn’t need it anymore,” said Beer. “She said she’d found all the yokai hidden in the names of his men. There were ten of them including the dog. She gave me this list.”

He put it on the table in front of him.

“There are three sheets of Japanese letters in lists with the yokai names circled. But to make it easier she’s explained it phonetically here and written the characteristics of the demons.”

“She’s a genius,” said Daeng.

“The only one they couldn’t find was Hiro himself,” said Beer. “There were no demons to be found in the permutations of his name’s kanji. She and her sensei have contacted a Japanese lecturer at Thammasat University in Bangkok who’s a bit of an expert in those things.”

“Any luck with the war records?” Siri asked.

“They found your Hiro Uenobu,” said Beer, who had no problem tucking into a full meal and talking at the same time.

“Excellent,” said Siri.