Siri loved it. Daeng never failed to be jealous when other women made appearances in his life. If he was feeling braver he’d say something like, “In Japan, young women are attracted to older men, sexually.” But he invariably came off worse as a result of making such comments so instead he said, “She told me she’d discuss matters with her sensei in Bangkok and see if I can get access to any other documents. Problem is, all the war records are in the hands of the Americans now and they’ve barely made a dent in translating everything.”

“Young, is she?”

“What?”

“Keiko.”

“Kyoko? I don’t know, mid-twenties? But she was asking if we had any US contacts who could get us access to the data bank of records in Washington. She thinks it’s the best way to find out what actually happened to Toshi after China and, for that matter, whether he really existed. If he could make up the Lao half there’s no reason why he couldn’t make up the Japanese half, too, including his name. So I was wondering whether we could get in touch with Cindy.”

“Cindy?”

“Yes, remember? She was at the embassy in Vientiane, then moved to Phnom Penh.”

“Cindy the beautiful blond second secretary?”

“That’s the one.”

“It appears you have a stable, Siri Paiboun.”

“She was able to get us access to documents in a hurry and she was really helpful in the dog tail case last year. And she did tell us she’d be delighted to work with us again.”

“I do recall.”

Against all the odds one of the girls caught a fish. It appeared to be elderly. She pulled it from the water with the help of her un-sister and they chuckled together as it squirmed on the dock. By the time Siri had removed the hook and returned the fish to its retirement community in the water, Daeng had regained her composure.

“What do you hope to find?” she asked.