The Merry Misogynist

and file a report. But twenty metres off the main road they see her.”
    “Tied to a tree.”
    “Exactly like our girl in Vang Vieng. But this one had been there a little longer. There was significant animal damage so you can imagine the scene. Two young conscripts without any battleground experience…”
    “I’d guess not even war could have prepared them for a sight like that.”
    “After they throw up their lunch, they decide they should tell someone. Our boy Sida stays with the body while his pal runs off to find the army commander. And our boy gets bold. He unties the ribbons that bind her hands, and she falls backwards, and that’s when he sees the pestle. If he’d had any more lunch…”
    “Did anyone report it?”
    “It all seemed to vanish. The commander told them he’d handle it and that they shouldn’t mention a word of it to anyone. I imagine he didn’t want a panic on his hands. While Sida was still on duty in the town, not one person came forward to report a missing girl. Case closed.”
    “Did you get this directly from Sida?”
    “No. For obvious reasons, he didn’t stick around once the PL took over. It appears he was pretty close to the nurse’s boyfriend, though. But you’re right, it’s all hearsay. Nothing we could use in court. There were one or two little details that make it obvious this was the same perpetrator.”
    “Like the ribbon?”
    “And candles…little temple candles. And the pestle was black stone.”
    “That’s him all right. Did Sida remember any physical signs? Did he notice whether the girl had been strangled?”
    Phosy went through his notes. “No. I get the impression she was pretty far gone as animal feed by the time they found her. I was surprised what a detailed description Sida was able to give his friend. I’d be surprised if he doesn’t still have nightmares about it. He talked about her face being gone and one of her fingers hanging off. There was gore every – ”
    “Did he say which one?”
    “Which one what?”
    “Which finger was hanging off?”
    “I don’t think so. Why?”
    “Ngam, our girl from Vang Vieng, had a broken finger.”
    “You think it might be significant?”
    “Just a thought I’ve been playing with. If it was the ring finger it could mean he was desperate to retrieve the ring. If the fingers had swollen he’d have to break the joint to get it off. It could be an issue he has about marriage.”
    “Dr Siri, this lunatic could be killing women all over the country and we’d be none the wiser.”
    “Could you contact all the police stations and get them to check their files?”
    “I wish it were that easy, Doctor. Most of the files from the old regime were destroyed before they left. It’s taken us this long just to get our own filing system in order. And for the first eighteen months it was a lot like the Royalists in Luang Nam Tha: foot soldiers substituting as policemen. Not all of them could read or write. And even if we did have a system, the thing that scares me is this: in both of these cases the bodies were found quite by chance before they were completely consumed by the forest. If there were other murders we might never learn of them.”
    Siri dropped onto all four legs of his chair and pulled out a sheet of blank paper and a pencil from his desk drawer. He made a rough sketch on it. Phosy leaned over the desk to take a look.
    “A panda?” he guessed.
    “It’s supposed to be Laos, inspector. And look! Here is Ban Xon, where Ngam met Phan. Here is Vang Vieng, where her body was found. They’re forty kilometres apart. Let’s assume that he woos and weds them in place A then removes them to place B, just far enough away so that nobody will recognize the body, and nobody will come forward there to report a missing relative. If we apply the same distance rule to your soldier’s corpse in Luang Nam Tha, we should assume she was from Muang Sing or perhaps Na Mo. You’re quite right, we may never find other corpses. So what we should be looking for isn’t bodies, but reports of country girls who were swept off their feet by smooth city boys and never seen again.”
    “Siri, you aren’t paying attention. I’ve just explained that we don’t even have a murder data bank. How do you suppose we can get information about missing daughters?”
    “By using a network that cares about such things – a network far more efficient than the police force.”
    “Oh really? And what would that be