The Merry Misogynist by Colin Cotterill

conundrum of why a beautiful young woman had such gnarled feet and calluses on her hands. He returned to the freezer and slid out the tray, then talked through what he was seeing as if he were Dtui itemizing and explaining.
    “No sun damage,” he said. “So…never outside or only when covered in some way. Covered from head to foot, or to ankle. Why would anyone go to so much trouble to stay out of the sun? And then, having gone to the trouble, leave their feet exposed? Madness.” And these weren’t feet baked from the sun and hardened by walking. They were soft. The only feet he could think of with a similar consistency were…
    There was a sound from the office. Too early for Dtui, and he would have heard her footfalls, but Mr Geung might have sneaked in to sweep and dust. That was his early-morning hobby. He took pride in the cleanliness of the morgue. Who could say what time he normally left his cramped dormitory for the comfort of a place he loved?
    “Morning!” Siri called. But there was no answer.
    He walked through the shadowy vestibule and into the curtained office. There was nobody there. His missing earlobe tingled. The amulet at his neck felt warm against his skin. He knew there was a presence here. His first hope was that the corpse in the cutting room was about to confide in him at last. He headed back there. Halfway across the vestibule, a chill ran up his spine. A cold damp feeling caressed his skin, and he stopped midstride. There was a smell like wet earth in the air, a scent that seemed to take hold and squeeze him tightly. He knew at once it had nothing to do with the dead girl.
    He heard a rustle behind him in the empty office and turned his head in time to see a shadow cross beyond the door. He stepped back into the doorway, and there on the floor at the centre of the round rug lay Saloop, drooling. It was a difficult moment. Siri had an affection for his dog, and his instinct was to lean down and pat him, tickle his ears. The animal used to like that. Surely a spirit dog would appreciate a little attention. But Saloop hadn’t come for petting. He stood and barked, although the sound was delayed for two seconds due to the difference in dimensions. He turned in circles as if he wanted his old master to follow him, even though there was nowhere to go.
    Siri stepped past the door and saw immediately what Saloop was making all the fuss about. The doctor had considered himself unshockable. He’d seen the spirits of dead soldiers in legions. The ghost of a woman he believed was his own mother followed him around like an albatross. He’d held consultations with a monk at Hay Sok Temple who was clearly not of this world, but the figure sitting at his desk was enough to put the willies up even the most hardened shaman.
    She was unpleasantly overweight, ugly as a lopsided toad, and unmistakably naked. Her skin, if it could be called skin, was a squirming mass of live worms. They crawled in and out of her eye sockets and her mouth and nose. Siri edged farther into the room and could see that what he had thought at first was a beer belly was probably an eight-month term of pregnancy. Her stomach glistened with sweat. He was nauseated by the sight of her but knew he had to observe. He knew the image wouldn’t last long. He waited for a word, a sign, but he could only smell the moist earth and feel the shudder of his amulet.
    “Please,” he said. “I’m not very good at this. Couldn’t you…?”
    But, as he’d feared, his words seemed to blow away the ugly woman and the dog like smoke. And all that remained was a feeling of doom.
    When Dtui and Geung arrived together at eight, they found Dr Siri sitting at his desk staring at his knuckles.
    “Goo…good morning, Comrade Doctor,” said Geung.
    “Anybody else and I’d say you looked like you’d seen a ghost,” said Dtui. “But in your case…”
    “Just a little tired is all.” Siri smiled. “I’m only being haunted by the Department of