The anorexic boatman was there at the dock waiting for them. He complained it would be dark before they arrived back in Thakhek and insisted on another fifty Thai baht to cover the cost of extra fuel. Evidently darkness used up more gas. The ride back through the tunnel network was even more thrilling because the old man’s helmet lamp had become temperamental. It went off at will and returned at just the right moments. Twice they sideswiped embankments. At one point the light did not return and the boatman turned off his engine and listened.

“Why have we stopped?” asked Beer.

“I’m taking advice from the spirits of the cave to guide me out,” said the old man. “But they need an offering.”

“Money?” asked Daeng.

“That or cigarettes,” said the boatman.

Beer handed him three old cigarettes from his top pocket and miraculously the light returned.

“They say they are placated,” said the old man. He restarted his engine and carried on. But with the return of the lamplight, Siri noticed something he’d missed on the outward journey. It was a formidable discovery, one that would turn the whole investigation on its head. When they finally reached the dock in Thakhek, the boatman thanked them for their custom as they climbed out of the boat, but Siri remained aboard.

“Nice ride,” he said.

“Thank you, brother,” said the boatman, anxious to be off.

“I was admiring your helmet.”

“Isn’t it a beauty?”

“I couldn’t help noticing the insignia.”

“The what?”

“The characters written on the side.”

“Oh, right.”

“Japanese, isn’t it?”

“What? Might be. I don’t know.”

“Where did you get it?”

“I didn’t steal it.”

“I didn’t say you did.”

“It was a present from a friend.”

“Where did you meet this friend?”

The boatman was getting more and more flustered with the inquisition.

“On my boat,” he said.

“And you’d take him to Sawan from time to time.”

“It was a while ago. I’m getting old. I can’t remember details.”

“Do you know what the letters on his helmet spell out?”

“No.”

“They spell out the name Uenobu Hiro.”

These were the characters at the back of the diary. Siri saw them every time he opened it. He knew them by heart.

“Never heard of him,” said the boatman.

“No,” said Siri. “I bet you haven’t. But I wouldn’t be surprised if you knew him by his other name: Toshi.”

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Sixteen

Well, Blow Me Down

Daeng and Siri were walking back to the guesthouse along a dirt track lit only by fireflies and a grubby moon on the horizon. They’d arranged to meet the boatman the next morning for a return trip to Sawan. They’d assured him he wouldn’t get into any trouble for what he’d told them. Whether he believed them or not they’d know the next day.