Beer told them he was a Vietnamese from the days when Thakhek had eight times more Vietnamese inhabitants than Lao. They’d worked for the French administration and had come to take up all the jobs the lazy Lao had refused to do.

“So, what can I do for you?” he asked Siri.

“We’re looking for someone who lived here during the Japanese occupation,” said Siri.

“Then this is your lucky day,” said Beer. “I am your man.”

Siri had seen the technique before. You’d go up to a group of unemployed laborers and ask if anyone was a carpenter. They would all raise their hands. Then you’d ask if anyone could speak Russian and again, they would all raise their hands. Poverty was the real mother of invention and how hard could it be to make a bookcase or speak a foreign language? But Beer was convincing. They sat with him in a noodle and coffee shack and he spouted names and dates that sounded accurate to Siri’s ear.

“Do you have family?” Daeng asked.

“Only in my mind,” said Beer.

“What do you see there?”

“A big house. Servants. A loving mother.”

“Everyone’s dream.”

“Yes, Auntie. Just a dream, I’m afraid. I was born and raised in a gutter. I’ve disappointed everyone since.”

“I don’t believe that,” said Daeng. “What did you do here during the war?”

“I was a laborer,” he said. “I built roads, dug ditches. I watched the Japs come and go. I learned a few phrases in Japanese so they always asked for me. I was twenty-two when they left so my memory of those days is still fresh. I have not yet reached the age of forgetfulness found in older people such as yourselves.”

Siri fondly recalled the Vietnamese trait of uncalled-for honesty.

“What do you actually do for a living?” Daeng asked him. “A well-spoken man such as yourself.”

“I do this,” he said. “I spot strangers. I offer my services for whatever they require. I know almost everyone in Thakhek and across the river. I am the best guide.” He ran a finger down the scar. “At first they take pity on me because of this,” he said. “You see? I have my own souvenir of the Japanese occupation. But soon they realize I have skills. I am the most suitable person to aid you in your quest, whatever it may be.”

“Was anything salvaged after the Japanese left?” Daeng asked.

“There was a sort of mass looting of everything they left behind,” said Beer. “Everything that could be sold or melted down. That’s where the tents went and removable parts on any planes or choppers that couldn’t take off. When the Chinese came through town on the postwar cleanup it was like the Japanese had never been here.”

“So no Japanese stayed on after the surrender?”