“If he was thirty-three in ’72 he’d be forty-one now,” said Phosy. “Even married to a Thai he’d need a passport to stay there all this time. He’d have to apply for residence every year.”

“Or pay a local cop to keep his mouth shut,” said Sihot.

“He couldn’t take on the guitarist’s ID because the passport had been reported stolen,” said Phosy. “But it’s Thailand. You can buy a whole new identity there.”

“He’d need money for that,” said Siri. “He stole some in Hanoi but not enough to start up a new life.”

“I don’t know,” said Phosy. “He’s a conman. He almost convinced two governments he was a POW. He’s cunning. His type is never short of a money-making scam. He could get away with anything. He might be in Vientiane as a diplomat or a journalist or an aid worker. You never know.”

“He’d still need documents to get into the country,” said Daeng.

“Or a boat,” said Sihot.

“All right, so what’s the other news?” asked Daeng.

“What other news?” asked Phosy.

“You said there was information about the second suspect.”

“The Frenchman, right.”

“He drowned,” said Siri.

“Presumably,” said Phosy. “Again, no evidence. But following your suspicions I sent some men to your friend Dr. Porn’s house. She’s bolted. It looked like she’d packed in a hurry.”

“Front door was open. Lights were still on,” said Sihot. “Something had spooked her.”

“Perhaps the fact that we were on to her,” said Phosy.

“I don’t believe Dr. Porn’s involved in all this,” said Daeng.

“Well, she’s certainly hiding something,” said Sihot. “Her motor scooter was gone. I couldn’t find a passport. But I did talk to a neighbor. What do you know about your Dr. Porn?”

“Not a lot,” said Siri. “I first met her here in ’75. The Women’s Union trusted her enough to give her a top position. I know she was with the resistance for a while.”

“Did you know that she was in Saigon?”

“I don’t recall her mentioning that,” said Daeng.

“She was there for quite a while during the French occupation, evidently. Long enough to take a French lover.”

It was then that Siri remembered where he’d seen the tube that had contained the original note. The one tied to Ugly’s tail or one very similar to it had sat in a glass souvenir cabinet in Dr. Porn’s office.

“This information is from the neighbor?” said Daeng. “Hardly a secret then.”

“She was a bit sketchy on details,” said Phosy. “I’ve called for the records from the Union. Evidently, the lover was multilingual. Spoke Lao.”

“You don’t think . . . ?” said Siri.

“Brokenhearted,” said Sihot. “Her lover arrested and shipped to France. The thought of revenge the only thing keeping her going. I don’t—”