Colin Cotterill - The Coroner's lunch

Siri laughed reluctantly at the ridiculous sight of his friend prancing around like a ghoul. They never saw him like this at politburo meetings.

The joke was, of course, topical in that the Vientiane administration was at that moment debating whether to invest in a seventh traffic light and who should operate it. The volume of traffic didn’t warrant such a major investment, but they were worried about the image a lack of lights might project overseas. The Department of Transport had acquired a report that showed that of all capital cities, only Bujumbura had fewer traffic lights. At the meeting, Civilai had brightened the ridiculous proceedings by suggesting the costs could be halved due to the fact there were so many red lights left over from the old regime. They’d only have to buy green ones.

“You old fool. Sit down and act your age. Forget I said anything.”

Civilai, laughing but winded, sat himself back on the log and swigged at the coffee Siri held out for him.

“You don’t waste any time, older brother.”

“What ‘any time’ don’t I waste, little brother?”

“You only got back yesterday. Your meeting with Haeng could only have been this morning.”

“What makes you think…? Aha, what a mind for one so old and feeble. You didn’t tell me about the electric nipples, did you? I wouldn’t make much of a criminal, would I?”

“You just aren’t used to dealing with a supreme intellect.”

“Well, supremo, what’s the next stage in your investigations?”

“Nguyen Hong and I are taking the bus up to Nam Ngum.”

“Honeymoon?”

“Fishing trip.”

“The third body?”

“There’s a chance all three were planted there together. Maybe Hok just hasn’t had a chance to escape his rock yet. If he’s still under water, his body should be better preserved than the Trans. It could tell us more.”

“You taking your snorkel?”

“I can’t swim.”

“So that’s why you’re still in Laos!”

They finished the coffee and did their best to ignore Rajid making whoopee with himself along the bank.

Dr. Siri,

You are to go to Khamuan as soon as possible. Contact me for details.

Haeng.

“What?” Siri looked up at Geung, the harbinger of doom, who looked back at him blankly. “Where did you get this, Mr. Geung?”

“A ma…ma…man on a motorcycle.”

“What’s happening to this job? For nine months we plod along nicely: a couple of old ladies, the odd electric shock, and a bicycle fatality. No murders, mysteries, or mayhem. Then, all of a sudden, the body business explodes like an atomic bomb. I’ve got corpses coming out of my ears.”

Geung looked at Siri’s ears but didn’t see the corpses. The doctor briefly considered using the telephone, but opted instead to walk across the street to the Justice Department. He waited forty minutes till Haeng was free.

“Siri, come in. The army has…sit down, for goodness sake. The army has contacted us for urgent assistance in Khamuan. You’ll be leaving tomorrow.”

“But I’m-”

“It appears there has been a series of mysterious deaths amongst the upper ranks of military personnel working on an agricultural-”

“I-”

“-an agricultural development project down there. Neither the army nor the police have been able to ascertain the cause of death. Until they get an official appraisal, they can’t begin to know if it’s natural or whether a crime has been committed.”

Siri still hadn’t sat. He stood waiting for Haeng to look at him, but the judge was reading a report, or pretending to. “That’s all. See my clerk for the details.”

“Are you telling me to drop the Vietnam case and run off to the south?”

“Case? Case? Case?” Siri wondered whether the record had stuck. “Siri, you’re a coroner, and not a very good one at that. You’re sent bodies. You examine them. You send me the results of your findings.

“Coroners don’t have cases. Judges have cases. Police have cases. You, Siri, have dead bodies. You have two such bodies waiting for you in Khamuan. I’m getting a little tired of you putting yourself above your station. Don’t start getting too big for your…old brown sandals.” He smiled minutely at his own cleverness, but still he hadn’t looked Siri in the eye. “Now get out.”

Siri stood a while and collected his thoughts. He turned and walked to the door. Judge Haeng listened for the sound of it opening and closing, but instead he heard the click of the lock. Something dropped suddenly in his chest. He glanced up to find Siri looking back over his shoulder at him.

“What are…?”

Siri walked back to the desk, rounded it, and sat on the corner a few centimeters from Haeng’s shirtsleeve. The young judge was looking confused, somehow vulnerable. Siri grabbed the annoyingly tapping pencil from his hand and pointed it at him.

“Listen, son. I know you have to seem to be what you are. I know you’re probably nervous, lost from time to time. Iunderstand how overwhelming all this must be for you. But I don’t intend to put up with your insecurity any more.”

“How dare-”

“Don’t. Don’t say anything that might make me state my opinions as to your qualifications to be doing this job.” The judge squirmed slightly in his chair. He seemed sulkier, younger, with every word Siri quietly spoke.

“Even though I happen to know you got this position because of your relatives-”

“I-”

“-you undoubtedly have skills, otherwise they wouldn’t have taken the chance with you. You wouldn’t have survived the U.S.S.R.”

“I-”

“But I’m doing a very difficult job too. I’m doing it reluctantly, and I’m doing it poorly because I don’t have the right facilities or resources or experience. You, boy, aren’t making it any easier for me.

“Whether you or I like it or not, I’m the head coroner. From now on, I shall handle the ‘cases’ that come through my office as I see fit. I shall follow up on them whenever I deem it necessary, and I shall send you reports that state my opinions when I’m ready to. Once they’re signed, there will be no amendments made to suit your statistics. Close your mouth, for goodness sake.”

Haeng put his lips together. They appeared to be quivering.

“If my talking honestly like this offends you, I’m very sorry. I apologize to your mother, who probably loves you in spite of everything. I apologize to her for the fact that I have to remind you to be respectful to your elders.

“If I’ve succeeded only in driving the thought of revenge into your head, let me remind you that I’m seventy-two years old. I’m twenty-two years beyond the national life expectancy. I’ve exceeded. I’m on overtime. In my natural life, I’ve already experienced any form of punishment you could come up with. Basically, there’s nothing you can do to me to fill me with even a smidgen of dread.

“I’d be delighted if you fired me, absolutely ecstatic. Sending me north for re-education would be heaven. I’d be packed before you could shake a pencil. It wouldn’t even be much of a loss to end up in front of a firing squad. Now, I imagine that puts you in a difficult situation, because I no longer intend to take your rudeness.

“Here’s what I’m going to do. Tomorrow, the Vietnamese coroner and myself are going to Nam Ngum Reservoir. We’ll spend a night there, maybe two. I’ll come back here and run tests in my morgue, and consult with Dr. Nguyen Hong. Then, when I’m certain I can’t do anything else in Vientiane, I may very well consider a trip to Khamuan.

“By that time, you will have arranged travel papers for me, and negotiated a flight south on one of the military transports. I’m too old to drive down there on roads full of holes. I’ll also need a small per-diem in case of eventualities. You’ll have reminded the military that there’s only one coroner and he has a very full caseload. As far as I know, the Justice Department isn’t subordinate to the military in peacetime. We’re doing them a favor.