The Merry Misogynist

anyone opened the chest. It wasn’t a logical response, but I was suffering from oxygen deficiency by then, so don’t expect common sense.”
    “I never do. You know? If only we had a campfire and a good bottle of whisky, this would be one of your most classic Siri tales of the improbable.”
    “We can still do that sometime. Trust me. This story will get better every time I tell it. Where was I?”
    “Wrapped in a groundsheet.”
    “Right. I have the groundsheet over my head, and I am blocked from the airhole, so I pass out for a second time. On this occasion I absolutely believe I’m a goner. As I’m fighting off the black moths, I try to summon my resident spirits: my mother, my dead dog, even the pregnant lady with worms, anybody to get me through it. But I was alone. When you need a good spirit there’s never one around. But next thing I know, the lid of the chest is open, and I can see actual stars. I can see Phan’s face looking down at me. I’m drowsy from the lack of air, and he’s a blur, but I’m sure he must be able to see me if I can see him. Yet he didn’t. It was dark in the chest and he was in a hurry. He reached beside me for something – the holdall, it must have been – yanked it out, and he was gone.
    “I was disoriented, nauseous. My breathing was awful, but the rush of night air cleared my head a little. Sounds and images were passing in and out of my consciousness: footsteps, the truck starting, driving through thick undergrowth, silence, a distant conversation. I tried to climb out of the chest, but I couldn’t summon the energy.”
    “Where was he going?”
    “He’d pulled off the road and gone a little way into the trees. I knew in my heart that this was where he’d be killing his next victim, but all I could see was white spots in front of my eyes. I might have even passed out again if it hadn’t been for the pop. I know now it was the sound of the champagne cork, but in my fuzzy state I imagined it to be a bone snapping. That small rush of adrenalin was enough to get me out of the chest and off the truck. I was sure he must have heard me, but no. I don’t remember when I picked it up, but I had a large wrench in my hand. I staggered towards a light. He’d set up a space like a sort of open-air love ring with a quilt and candles. I saw them there. I really didn’t believe I could make it, but he was on her, forcing her to drink, and he smashed a glass and held a shard in front of her face. I knew he’d use it.”
    “So you whacked him over the head with the wrench and killed the bastard,” Civilai yelled and let out a loud, “Woohoo!” It frightened a small whiskery-nosed otter out of the tall grass beside them. Siri cast his eyes downward, not sharing his friend’s glee. Murder was nothing to be proud of.
    “Come on, you have to be pleased about it,” Civilai told him.
    “Of course I’m pleased that he’s not free any longer to kill. But what kind of world are we living in where something like this can happen?”
    “I’d prefer to see it as a one-off. I don’t want to believe there are maniacs crawling out of the woodwork. You have to admit this was a special case, Siri. I heard a rumour your strangler was a bit confused in the gender department.”
    “He was a hermaphrodite.”
    “That’d be enough to throw anyone off-kilter. It doesn’t pardon him but it does explain what happened. Even I’d go nuts if I didn’t have a willy.”
    Siri looked into his friend’s eyes and smiled.
    “Mrs Noy tells me…”
    “Don’t even think about saying it.”
    “How do you know…?”
    “Whatever it is, keep it to yourself. I recognize that mischievous glint. Finish the story. How did the girl come through it all?”
    “She was in shock, of course, but unharmed. We spent the night asleep in the truck. I wasn’t in any state to drive. I caught up with Daeng and the police the next day. By then they’d discovered the bodies of Buaphan and the census collector and put two and two together. Daeng was in a terrible state. She’d expected the next body they found would be mine. I’m afraid I’d rather set her up for that by telling her about my premonitions of death.”
    Young Nounou came skipping along the path to the two old men.
    “Grandpa,” she said. “Granny Daeng says your friend’s looking for you.”
    “Ah, at last,” Siri smiled. “I suppose it’s time for the handover. You coming, old brother?”
    “No,” said Civilai. “Give