Sihot explained how he’d found his way to that room. He’d gone to meet Ouan as recommended by Ookum, the hippie police sergeant at the intersection. He, too, had been offered spicy food and a cool beer to wash it down. He, too, had fallen unconscious and had come to in this room. He’d watched Ouan drag the comatose bodies of first Phosy and then Jiep to the girder.

“Does this happen often?” asked Jiep.

Phosy and Sihot looked at each other.

“Pretty much a monthly occurrence,” said Sihot. “This and getting blown up.”

“God, that can be annoying,” said Phosy.

“Are you making fun of me?” the young fellow asked.

“Of course we’re making fun of you,” said Sihot. “It was a stupid bloody question. Focus your mind on something helpful.”

“Like what Ouan stands to gain from having us chained here,” said Phosy.

“And where he’d find a concrete building in a village of wooden houses,” said Sihot.

“That I might know,” said Jiep. “I looked through the records. Apart from a busy resort, there was a concrete factory active in Vang Vieng during the old regime. It stopped operation when we took over. I imagine this is one of the factory buildings.”

“See, Sihot?” said Phosy. “This is exactly why I bring in the next generation.”

“You didn’t think to mention that information earlier?” asked Sihot.

“I assumed you’d know.”

“Do you also have a theory as to why a cement factory might need a metal girder and leg irons?” asked Sihot.

“Now that is a little worrying,” said Jiep. “If I was the pessimistic type I’d guess that Comrade Ouan has a deep hatred of policemen. He lures us here by throwing an important person off a cliff, knowing we’ll come to investigate. He knocks us out with some fast-acting sedative and drags us here. He’s set up a torture chamber for the sole purpose of killing us slowly and painfully: pliers to the fingernails, electrodes to the genitals. That sort of thing.”

The two older men exchanged another look.

“Then it’s just as well you aren’t the pessimistic type,” said Phosy.

“It’s just that he seems too . . . too gentle to be a psychopath,” said Jiep.

“Some of the sweetest-looking people have been known to slit the odd artery,” said Phosy.

“Or perhaps he’s just the weak-minded assistant,” said Sihot. “The actual maniac drives up from Vientiane on weekends with his tool kit and does the nasty.”

“Enlightening as this conversation might be, what’s clear is that we have to get Comrade Ouan speaking,” said Phosy. “Until we know why we’re here, we can’t talk our way out of it. But I have a plan.”