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Love Songs from a Shallow Grave

Love Songs from a Shallow Grave

Titel: Love Songs from a Shallow Grave
Autoren: Colin Cotterill
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“Only a hundred years since the invention of fingerprinting and Laos uses it to solve a case. Who knows? In under ten years we’ll be comparing blood samples. The heated rush of technology.”
    “What are you two so excited about?” came Daeng’s voice from the plank walkway leading from the market. She and Dtui, with Malee at her hip, ducked beneath the few erect umbrellas, took off their sandals and sat with Phosy and Siri on the grass mat.
    “Science has triumphed over superstition once more, madam,” Siri told her.
    He took one of the plastic bags from his wife and removed the boiled duck eggs to the plate in front of him. Daeng upturned a second bag of lethally spicy papaya salad into another. Two Thumbs had no food so patrons were encouraged to step into the market and buy their own. He was, however, extremely generous with plates and cutlery.
    “Eating, then?” Two Thumbs called. Such was the colour and depth of his repartee. Phosy took three eggs and presented them as an offering to the proprietor. Daeng and Dtui clinked together their empty glasses, a signal for Siri to do something about it. He set to his task.
    “When we planned this we actually had something a little bit more extravagant in mind,” Dtui said as Siri poured the tea-coloured Thai brew into their glasses.
    “You mean like brunch at the Bangkok Oriental?” Daeng asked.
    “More like a nice restaurant with tables,” Dtui lamented.
    Siri handed the ladies their filled glasses.
    “You said we could choose,” he reminded her.
    “Yes, I know. But you chose the cheapest place you could think of.”
    “And where’s the fault in that?” Siri asked. “You go to some fancy, overpriced place and with every spoonful, every glass, you feel wretched with guilt at all the necessary things you could be spending the money on. You worry so much you end up burning all the calories you’ve eaten and by the time you get home you weigh less than you did before you left home.”
    “And we love it here,” Daeng added. “It’s like a second home to us.”
    Phosy rejoined the group. He had a new bottle of Mekhong.
    “Was that in exchange for the eggs?” Siri asked.
    “Charity isn’t in Two Thumb’s vast vocabulary,” Phosy told them, and sat beside Dtui. She put baby Malee into his lap and the youngster grabbed at his shirt button.
    “Any more news of Mr Geung and his lady love?” Siri asked.
    “More chance of the national football team going ninety minutes without conceding a goal from what I hear,” Phosy told him. “Isn’t that right, Dtui?”
    Dtui was still sulking.
    “We wanted to take you somewhere special,” she said.
    Daeng put her hand on Dtui’s knee.
    “Special is where friends are,” she said.
    Siri laughed. “You got that from one of my old greeting cards.”
    “I know. So what? The point is it’s the being invited that’s important. The place doesn’t matter.”
    “OK,” Dtui conceded. “In that case we have something to say. Phosy?”
    “Why me?”
    “It’ll mean more coming from you because you’re a policeman.”
    “What’s that supposed to mean?”
    “It means nobody expects you to feel anything. It’s shock value. You say something from your heart and it traumatises people. They never forget it.”
    Phosy frowned.
    “In that case…” He put both hands on Malee as if she were a conduit. “What we want to say,” he began, “is…well. I suppose it’s…”
    “You’re doing great so far,” Dtui told him.
    “Give me a minute. I want to say this right. Dr Siri, Madame Daeng, Dtui and me…we didn’t…we were so sure we didn’t deserve to be loved that when it came along we didn’t believe it was really there. It took you two to make us see sense. Thanks.”
    “Thanks?” Dtui laughed. “That’s it?”
    “I think I’ve covered the main points,” he told her.
    “And I say he did a splendid job,” Daeng agreed.
    They toasted the moment.
    “I want to add one thing,” Dtui said. “We were all, I mean, all of us, for five weeks we were living a life that we believed didn’t have a Dr Siri in it any more. And it wasn’t the same life. It was lonely and empty. It was missing something important. So…” She raised her glass. “Thanks for not dying, Doc.”
    They toasted Siri not dying and his belated birthday and refilled the glasses because the best was yet to come. Daeng reached into her shoulder bag and produced an envelope.
    “This came for you yesterday,” she said.
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