Love Songs from a Shallow Grave

intention of being unfaithful.”
    Siri’s eyebrows reached for the ceiling.
    “Really. Before Kiang came into my life I was perfectly content. And it was she who approached me. I was in the reading room at the bookshop and she got my attention by telling me I reminded her of somebody. She didn’t ever give me any details but I got the impression it was someone she’d known when she was younger. Someone who’d left or died.”
    Siri considered that point. It fitted into the mother’s account of Kiang’s soldier-lover killed in the north.
    “Of course I’d noticed her before at the shop,” Neung continued. “She was a striking-looking young lady. And it was as if she was attracted to me. I could sense it. But I kept things polite and I didn’t encourage her.”
    “Why not?”
    “I’m a married man. And, I don’t know, I suppose I thought she wasn’t interested in me exactly. Just my similarity to that other man.”
    “But the flesh was weak.”
    “Doctor! A beautiful woman begging to make love to you? What would you have done?”
    “Strange as it may seem, the opportunity doesn’t arise that often. But I get your point.”
    “And it was all so wonderful. Kiang was sweet and loving. She had a passion. It was as if she were saving it up for someone. It got to the point that I didn’t care who she thought I was. Of course I fell in love with her. In fact, it was more like an addiction. I couldn’t get enough of her. We got together when we could, made love, talked about our times in Europe. But she didn’t ever introduce me to anyone. I never met her family or friends.”
    “When was the last time you saw her?”
    “Midday Saturday. We met for lunch. We had this place by the river where we’d meet up. An old guesthouse. We’d found the key under a pot of dead plants once when we were sheltering from the rain. It became our rendezvous spot.”
    “Saturday was when she died.”
    Neung nodded and his eyes glazed over.
    “She didn’t show up for our lunch date on Monday.”
    “You weren’t curious why not?”
    “Of course.”
    “Did you make any effort to find out why she didn’t turn up?”
    “We had an agreement. I wasn’t to contact her. I couldn’t go to her house or the library. I didn’t even have her phone number. All the contact came from her. It’s the way she wanted it.”
    “And that arrangement was all right with you?”
    “I had a wife. I wasn’t really in a position to insist on visitation rights. And I was crazy about her. She could have done and said anything and it would have been fine with me. I was just glad to be around her. I loved her.”
    “And your wife?”
    Neung nodded.
    “You’re a generous man,” Siri told him. “So much love to share with so many women. Which brings us to victim number three, Jim.”
    Neung sighed with frustration.
    “There isn’t much to tell,” he said. “I vaguely remember her pottering around K6 when she was a kid. She was podgy then. One of those keen young things who follow you around asking questions. I heard they’d taken her on as a trainee at a clinic up north. I didn’t see her at all after that until Germany. I was on the fencing team at my college. There were local and regional competitions every weekend. And who should show up at one of them but Jim. I was totally surprised. I didn’t recognise her at first. She’d lost a lot of weight. In fact she was looking very fit. She told me she’d come to Berlin to study medicine. That didn’t surprise me. I knew she was smart. But what did surprise me was that she could fence. And she was good. Really good, and strong as an ox. She’d obviously put a lot of time into it.”
    “Where did she learn?”
    “I asked her, of course. But her answers were always vague. Things like, ‘I can’t tell you all my secrets so soon’. I assumed the Americans…but I never really found out for certain. She asked if I had time to tutor her, work on her techniques. I told her I’d be happy to.”
    “I bet you were. One on one, was it?”
    Neung glared. “No. She attended a class I helped out at. It was a fencing school for local teenagers. I was a volunteer. The instructor and I agreed that Jim had potential. In fact, the instructor had a friend from one of the big clubs come to look at her. It was one of those serious places, the type that gear you up for the Olympics. They agreed that with the right coaching she could have a future in fencing. They made her an offer. They