Curse of the Pogo Stick by Colin Cotterill

the wall of the post office for several months as a result of the last case Dtui, her husband, Phosy, and Dr Siri had worked on together. According to Security, not only had the Lizard been involved in the last coup attempt, she’d been wanted for ongoing acts of terrorism against the Republic since it came into being. Customers at the Bureau de Poste probably believed the old lady’s photo had been attached to the wanted poster as some kind of joke. How could such a sweet old thing be wanted for crimes against the state? But there was nothing funny about the Lizard. She had a chip on her shoulder against the communists and now it seemed that grudge had extended to revenge. But this couldn’t be…
    Dtui brought over a petri dish and looked through it at the old lady in the wheelchair. Old women tended to look a lot alike to Dtui but there was something about the expression in the woman’s eyes that made Dtui think Geung had a point. And as that thought took root in her head, a second idea occurred to her. If she was after revenge, what if Siri wasn’t the intended victim? Dtui and Phosy had played a key part in putting down the coup. What if the lizard lady knew Siri was away, or didn’t care? The ends of Dtui’s fingers tingled and a shudder ran down her spine. She looked once more at the old girl in the wheelchair. Geung was right. This was the woman who glared from the shadows of the post office wall.
    Their evening meeting couldn’t come soon enough.

5
    SHOTS FROM THE GRASSY KNOLL
    “B ecause they’re basically heathens,” spat Judge Haeng.
    Their journey had been painfully slow and the judge’s lack of sleep made him more opinionated than ever. The convoy was negotiating one obstacle after another: a river with no bridge, a temporarily filled bomb crater that had reopened, a tree the breadth of a man’s height sprawling across the road. They were currently on a track that clung along the edge of a steep incline. The valley below dropped drastically to their left. Luang Prabang seemed half a planet away. As there was no pocket chess or solitaire to while away the nonmoving hours, Siri had removed the plugs from his ears and was having sport with his judge. The driver and the bodyguard were both listening so Haeng was obliged to fight every point.
    “Simplicity doesn’t necessarily mean barbarianism,” Siri countered.
    “Simplicity, Siri? They allow their youth to fornicate before marriage. That isn’t simplicity. The Hmong are completely without morals.”
    “I think you’ll find they have some of the strongest morality taboos of all the ethnic groups.”
    “Premarital sex not being among them?”
    “I suppose it depends on whether you classify sex as a sin. There are worse things. I’ve heard some of our public officials take nightclub singers from such places as the Anou Hotel and have their way with them for money. Is that morality, Judge?”
    Siri enjoyed the blush on the young man’s cheeks. He knew the Anou was one of the judge’s favourite fishing holes.
    “Unsubstantiated rumours, Siri…about whoever it is. I’m surprised at you, taking notice of market tittle-tattle.” Siri smiled but held back. “And besides, we’re discussing hill tribes. I’m trying to explain how some savage races still have a way to go, not only educationally, but morally and socially.”
    “Really? I’ve heard the Hmong social order is the most disciplined and traditionally ordered of all the minorities. A Hmong’s family is his life.”
    “Not much of a life to give, is it?”
    “Now, now, Judge Haeng. If I didn’t know you better I’d say you were talking like a bigot.”
    Haeng laughed. “Doctor, you couldn’t be further from the truth. Some of my closest friends are from the backwoods. You do realize how much effort the Party directs at fringe groups?”
    “By fringe, I take it you mean the forty per cent of our citizens who aren’t native Lao?”
    “Exactly. I take it you’ve read the new