The Merry Misogynist

truck returning that woke me up.”
    Civilai sat entranced with his elbows on his knees and his chin on his fists. “And what time was this?” he asked.
    “From the position of the sun I assumed it was around ten. I should wear a watch. The driver came up to talk to Buaphan in the hut. I took the opportunity to slide back down the butte and sneak a look at the truck. It was parked in the shade to one side of the clearing. But there were children down there playing around. I didn’t want them to see me, so I waited. On reflection I have to presume it was around this time that the driver killed Buaphan. Then he had to do away with the old census collector who had the misfortune to turn up asking for his fee. I knew nothing about it.
    “After about an hour the children were called to the house for lunch and I had my chance. I can’t say for sure what I was looking for in the truck. While I was scratching around in the cab the driver came down. I was sure he’d find me and I had no idea what I was going to tell him. But the banshees were on my side that day. He didn’t get in the front. He climbed up on the flatbed and unlocked the metal chest. I heard him rummaging around back there and then the sound of the lid closing. He jumped off the truck and headed back up to the butte. He’d left the chest unlocked. I went to have a look. And that’s when I knew I had the killer. There was a holdall in there. It contained some pretty fancy hors d’oeuvres in cans, and dry crackers and a bottle of champagne as well as two rolls of pink ribbon. It was incriminating in itself but there’s nothing illegal about drinking champagne. It wasn’t solid evidence that he’d killed anyone. What I should have done then was left on my bike and gone to contact Phosy. He could have arrested the driver and had witnesses identify him as the man they knew as Phan.”
    “But of course you didn’t?”
    “It was difficult, Civilai. If I’d left then I didn’t know how long it would take me to find Phosy. I had no idea that he was already in the district. I was afraid that if I went to the local police, they wouldn’t believe me. They certainly wouldn’t arrest a man on my say-so. And in the meantime, I was giving the driver free rein to run off and kill again. So I made my decision. There was a rubber groundsheet in the chest. I wrapped it around myself and waited. I’d left myself breathing room in the chest, just a wedge of daylight under the lid. Through the gap I could see him approach the truck. The driver had completed his transformation already. It was astounding. He was Buaphan, complete with hair and clothes and confidence. It was as if he’d taken over the other man’s skin.
    “To my horror, he climbed onto the bed of the truck, threw something into the chest on top of me, slammed the lid shut, and locked it. As you know, I’ve had more than my fair share of claustrophobic dices with death since I became coroner, but this was a nightmare. It was midday, and the temperature in there was in the mid thirties, so hot, I needed to do something fast. It was a solid, Chinese-built metal coffin riveted to the bed of the truck. I calmed myself, slowed my breathing, and recalled that there was a toolbox in the chest. I fumbled my way to it and found a hammer and a screwdriver. A metal drill bit would have been handy but fate wasn’t that kind.
    “The truck started and I used the cover of the noisy engine to hammer myself an airhole. But these Chinese, I tell you. Why use twenty-millimetre metal plate when you can use fifty? I pounded myself into a good old sweat making the tiniest of holes. I was still going at it when I passed out for the first time. And, Civilai, that pinprick of a hole saved my life. When I came round I had no idea where I was. The truck was stopped and it was quiet out. I was afraid someone might hear me but I needed more air. I used the sharp end of a file to gouge out a larger hole. After an hour I had it to the size of a nostril. I could see through it. It was dark out. We were parked beside a road in some sort of village. There was nobody in sight. All I could think about was Phan being with a new victim somewhere and me stuck in the chest.
    “I was deciding whether to yell for help and risk him catching me when I heard the music. It was a band of bamboo instruments and a small choir of drunk-sounding singers. The music was getting closer. I wrapped myself up in the groundsheet again in case