The Merry Misogynist

asked.
    “A fringe, babe,” she reminded him. “It’s our new look. I was getting sick of staring at his greasy centre parting, so we’ve had a bit of a makeover. I came in early and gave him a shampoo and a snip. I think he looks very handsome.”
    “I…I’m gorgeous,” Geung told Siri.
    “Irresistible. Let’s just hope no female goats pass by the morgue,” said Siri. “Right, who do we have here?” He took a step back and noted for the first time just how beautiful the naked corpse was. Although tastes differed, few would doubt that she had the proportions most girls dreamed of. She was around seventeen with perfect bone structure and very little excess fat. But there was something inexplicable about the condition of the body.
    “Name unknown,” Dtui told him.
    “Who brought her in?” he asked.
    “A headman and local Central Committee man from Vang Vieng. They said the body was found yesterday morning. They seemed in a hurry to get her here. Drove overnight.”
    “What were the circumstances?”
    “They wouldn’t tell me. They looked a bit shell-shocked when I asked. The cadre gave me a sealed envelope for you. It’s on your desk. Obviously something a lady shouldn’t know.”
    “I’ll get ready and take a look at the note. Where are her clothes?”
    “This is the way she arrived. They wrapped her in tobacco leaves for the journey to keep the smell down.”
    The warning signals sounded for Siri immediately. A naked girl found dead suggested a rape. That would be reason enough for men from the country not to discuss it with a young nurse. But after reading the note he understood there was another disturbing element to the death. A local hunter camped out in the woods had heard the sound of a truck late at night. At first light he’d gone to investigate and found the victim. She was tied to a tree with ribbon. She’d been seated with her arms and legs around the trunk. There was far more to this than merely an assault. When Siri returned to the cutting room, Dtui and Geung were wearing their aprons and masks. The temperamental air conditioner on the far wall grumbled. Siri handed Dtui the note. There were no secrets in the Mahosot morgue. He could see she was disturbed by what she read.
    “I don’t think I’m looking forward to this,” she confessed.
    But for her unplanned pregnancy by Inspector Phosy, Nurse Dtui would have been in the Eastern Bloc by now, studying to take over Siri’s job. So, as was his habit, Siri called on her to make the initial appraisal of the body.
    “Would that it were mine,” she began.
    Geung threw her oft-quoted words back to her. “Men like f-f-fat women,” he said.
    “Can we get on with it?” Siri said impatiently, but he knew her remark had been made to disguise her discomfort.
    “Sorry, Doc.”
    Siri pulled up a stool and sat with his arms folded. “All right. What do you see?” he asked.
    “She must have been found pretty soon after she was killed judging by the lack of insect or animal damage to the corpse.” Dtui stepped up to the table and touched the victim’s neck. “The cause of death was strangulation.”
    “How can you tell?” Siri asked.
    “Bruising of the strap muscles.” She prodded at the neck. “Probable fracture of the hyoid.”
    “I agree,” Siri nodded. “The perpetrator?”
    “Man. Big hands. The thumbprint’s twice the size of mine.”
    “Any defensive wounds?”
    “Not really. But look, she doesn’t have much in the way of fingernails. They’re trimmed down to nothing. If she tried to pull him off she wouldn’t have left any scratches on her own neck. Don’t see any other bruising apart from the big hand print on her neck.”
    “I agree,” said Mr Geung, sweeping the hair out of his eyes.
    Siri smiled. “Thank you, Dr Geung.” Geung’s laughter helped to lighten the darkening mood in the room.
    Dtui pulled back the girl’s thick hair and inspected her scalp. “No head wounds, small mole just below her hairline above the ear.” She worked her way down the body. “One of her fingers is broken,” Dtui continued, “but there’s no bruising so it looks like it happened post-mortem. She might have been damaged in transit.” She leaned over the dark untrimmed mound of hair at the girl’s pubis and put her hands together in apology before probing. “No outward signs of bleeding or bruising at the vagina, thank heaven.”
    She walked to the bottom of the table and looked at the girl’s feet.