“Do you have a point?” said Bpoo. “I have a darts tournament in half an hour. What do you want?”

“What do I want?” said Siri. “I thought you summoned me.”

“Doesn’t work like that. I sense your desire to have a chat and I enable your crossing over.”

“What? That’s useful to know. I conjure up a desire and you appear? You couldn’t have told me that a year ago? It feels more like the sort of relationship we’re supposed to have.”

“Do you have a question, Oh Master?”

“We still need to work on that sarcasm. Here’s the deal . . .”

Siri told him about his chicken bone project and raised his eyebrows hopefully at the end.

“So?” said Bpoo.

“So, I was wondering whether you’d be able to . . . you know . . . bless the bones or something.”

“Do I look like the pope?”

“Isn’t there some mechanism over there to promote supernatural activity in inanimate objects? Sprinkle a little bit of fairy dust or something?”

“You really are bad at this,” said Bpoo.

“You said this world exists in my subconscious,” said Siri. “I want to explore the outer limits of our relationship. Like the homework I gave you during our last visit two days ago. I bet you haven’t done it, have you?”

“You see?” said Bpoo. “You don’t even understand what our relationship is. I am not your private detective. I lead you through the labyrinth of your mind; I do not find missing persons.”

“So, you failed.”

Bpoo made a furtive glance at the mirror.

“I’m not authorized to give such information,” he said.

“Who’s behind there?” Siri asked.

“It’s just a mirror,” said Bpoo. “I was just checking my hair.”

“In that case, I desire to go home to bed,” said Siri.

Bpoo hesitated.

“There is one thing I am at liberty to tell you,” he said.

“Yes?”

He looked again at the mirror.

“The person you inquired about is not deceased.”

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty

Siri Down

“Tell me again how you coordinated the escape,” said Nurse Dtui.

The noodle shop tables had been pushed together, and the usual gang sat around the large square. From left to right there was Dtui and the ever-snoozing Malee, Chief Inspector Phosy, Mr. Geung and Tukta, Siri, Daeng and a large Donald Duck balloon standing in for the absent Civilai. A late evening shower had brought out the fire ants in such numbers Daeng had been forced to close the shutter, turn off the lights and illuminate the table with two temple candles. It gave the gathering the air of a séance.

“We didn’t exactly escape,” said Siri. “We were just as tied up and incapacitated at the end of it all, but we did organize the whistle for Ugly and we got in one good kick.”