And now he sat on the schoolteacher’s desk, banging it with his fist until his knuckles bled. Arriving at this stage had been masterful on his part. By staying in the jungles for all this time he had alienated himself from his homeland, dishonored his family name. He could never return to Japan. He had no contacts and no resources. But he needed an academic to read the Lao section of the diary. It was good fortune that he’d heard of the crime-fighting doctor in Vientiane from a Vietnamese neighbor who’d spent time in Laos. Yuki had released information shred by shred to keep the doctor enthralled and he’d waited for him to fill in the gaps in his knowledge. Yuki-san had heard of the yokai when he was a child but he never would have made the connection through Hiro’s stories. For that he had to thank the clever Lao—before killing him. The Japanese knew that Dr. Siri was the type who would never rest until he caught up with Yuki and his men. That’s why he had to die. That’s why they all had to die. A neat, clean end to the story; gory but necessary. The way the Imperial Army had rampaged through China, clinical, heartless, merciless. No witnesses. No guilt. Nobody would suspect a band of Japanese of such a massacre. It had to be insurgents. There would be clues left strategically around the village pointing to royalists in the Thai camps. With everyone gone they would cut the gold into lumps, load it onto the foldable boat, and head for the life they deserved. There was just one small matter to take care of, but the Japanese leader was getting impatient.

“We’ll give him five more minutes,” said Yuki-san. “If they’re not here then we’ll assume they aren’t coming. We can head back along the river and take care of the doctor and his wife and the idiot Vietnamese back in the town. Not as neat as I’d planned but we can take our time now. We’ll do away with this menagerie first.”

It was what Teacher Satsai had anticipated. He had enough Japanese to understand what their fate would be. So in a gentle whisper he had spread the word that upon his shout of “Go” everyone was to make a run for it, head in whatever direction they could as fast as they could. Many would be mowed down by the machine guns but at least some would get away. Satsai himself was crouched near the leader. He’d go for Yuki-san and subdue him the best he could.

But the plan was put on hold as Beer marched the old Lao couple into the school yard with his gun trained on their backs.

“What kept you?” shouted Yuki-san, jumping down from the desk.

“Sorry,” said Beer.