The tour group boarded a narrow wooden Thai-style riverboat, number 092, which was forty-five metres long by 2.8 metres wide. The middle section had sixty-six seats, set up in cubicles of four. There was a bar area aft. The twenty tourists took seats. The gang, now without their boss, Farquar, plonked themselves in cubicles. They avoided breakfast, disgruntled that the bar would not open for an hour. This was Cavalier’s chance. He ordered a coffee and placed a small recorder, about the size of those used in telephone receivers, behind some ornamental carving about a foot above where the gang would be sitting at the bar. Cavalier casually asked Geoffreys for the register of guests.

‘I’m fascinated to know where they’ve all come from,’ he said.

Geoffreys opened a red book and ran his finger down the guests’ names, and that of Farquar’s team. Cavalier memorised the gang’s names: Hollos, Castro, Leni, Amaz—the girl—and the lone wolf of the group, Dubois.

On cue at 9 a.m. the gang, except for Dubois, proceeded to drink beer and talk, with Leni chain-smoking cigars. The aroma wafted through the boat throughout the rest of the day, depending on the breeze.

The boat was due to stop at eight villages, some of which were reached by tractor a few kilometres into the jungle interior. Unlike Thailand, the Laos government had bought some of the land to limit or avoid deforestation.

Cavalier and Pin read and dozed for most of the long first leg that took them 140 kilometres along the river over six hours. The weather was cool. The rain of the morning continued well into the afternoon. The brown water was high. Staff on the boat lowered plastic flaps to protect the tour group from rain sweeping in. It was hard to see anything through the mist. Even when the sun appeared here and there, it turned the river into a blinding flash of tinfoil.

Cavalier paused every now and then to take a photograph from the helm. The green jungle in the centre of nowhere was captivating, even mesmerising at times for its rustic beauty on mountains and hills. It was so luxuriant and fecund that the trees seemed reluctant to stop at the water’s edge. Their wet, twisted roots held the banks together. It seemed as if the trees either side were destined one day to transcend the river and join up.

Cavalier saw few humans on the banks. Some were discernible at steps down to boats and at the outcroppings of villages near the water’s edge. When the boat drifted close to either bank, the squawk of an unseen bird could be heard. Otherwise there were few signs of life. Not even mosquitoes, which the passengers were warned could be an issue if they did not use repellent, were evident. The wind and rain were keeping them inactive, for the moment.