“Not yet. I hope you can bear with me for one or two more days. I have been able to secure a cassette tape upon which we have samples of every one of the tribal languages of the region. I shall play the tape to our poor victims here and once we have established their ethnicity I can begin the process of locating their home villages.”

“And what if they don’t respond to their own languages?” Daeng asked.

“Why would they not?”

“They’ve done a good job of keeping mum so far,” she said. “It’s still possible they’ve been threatened not to use their native languages.”

“Fear not, Madam Daeng. We have a linguistics expert flying up from Bangkok as I speak.”

“Then the world is safe,” said Siri.

“Do you suppose I could borrow the girls?” said Roper.

“I might have to go with you,” said Daeng. “I think they’re finding men less than trustworthy.”

She threw in a sideways glance at her husband as an exclamation mark.

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fourteen

Feet Never Lie

Alone again, Siri was in his room reading—for want of an alternative—a thrilling account in the Passasson Lao newsletter of the minister of agriculture’s state visit to East Germany. There was a hint of alliteration in the third paragraph that gave Siri a modicum of hope for his country’s literary future. He was not upset to be interrupted by a shout from outside.

“Dr. Siri!”

He ran to the door and opened it to find Beer and a man in his sixties with a neat beard the color of smoke. Siri had always wanted one just like it but for some reason he’d been unable to grow facial hair. Apart from the beard, Siri might have been looking at an image of himself. He expected Beer to introduce the guest as a Lao or a Vietnamese, but in a low voice he said, “Dr. Siri. This is Yuki-san.”

Siri nodded and Yuki-san ran a thumb and forefinger over his beard.

“I couldn’t find the mechanic,” said Beer. “But this is even better. Yuki-san was in Thakhek at the same time as Toshi.”

“I was starting to believe Toshi didn’t exist,” said Siri.

“Apparently he did,” said Beer. “But everyone knew him as Hiro.”

Siri was recharged. A lost cause had been found.

“Then please come in,” he said, standing back.

There was only tepid tea from a thermos to drink but Beer threw back three mugfuls while the two old gentlemen sipped politely and stared at each other.

“Do you speak Lao?” Siri asked.

“Only few words,” said Yuki-san in Vietnamese. It was heavily accented but competent. Siri’s Vietnamese was fluent.

“I cannot be in your room for long,” said the Japanese.