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woman—even one he loved as much as Jayne. But he had, and he felt proud. Part of him really wanted to fuck her.
    But he shouldn’t have come on so strong; he felt like he’d scared her off. Still, she’d agreed to come back in the morning to talk things through. Nou was usually at the gym by ten on a Saturday, and they’d have the house to themselves.
    At the thought of Nou, Didier sighed. What would’ve happened if he’d walked in on him and Jayne? He suspected Nou wouldn’t have been surprised, and doubted he’d even care. Didier couldn’t say if it was a credit to their relationship or a sign of it failing.
    He must have dozed off, because he dreamt that someone was pounding on his door in urgent need of his help. But he couldn’t move—it was as if his limbs were made of lead. He could only lie there, listening to the sound, overcome with a terrible sense of failure and sadness. Then he realised someone was pounding on the front door. He looked at the clock: 3:45. He’d barely slept at all. Dragging himself up and pulling on a T-shirt over his shorts, he stumbled to the door, flicking a switch on the way. Blinded by the sudden light, it took him a moment to make out the figures standing on the balcony. Didier had the door open before he realised, with a wave of panic, that they were police.
    ‘ Sawadee krup ,’ he said. ‘How can I help you, officers?’
    ‘ Sawadee —’ a man whose nametag identified him as Officer Komet began, but the older of the two cut him off.
    ‘Are you Didier de Montpasse?’ There was steel in his voice.
    Didier swallowed and glanced at the man’s badge. ‘Yes, Lieutenant Colonel.’
    Ratratarn showed no surprise at Didier’s ability to speak the language. ‘Where were you between one and two this morning?’
    ‘Excuse me, Lieutenant Colonel, what’s this in regard to?’
    ‘Just answer the question.’ A muscle twitched in his forehead. To Didier, he looked like the sort of man who had control over every muscle in his body.
    ‘I was here. Rather, I got back here around eleven. Before that, I was out with friends. Sir, perhaps if you told me what this is about I could be of some assistance.’
    It galled him to have to be so polite, but he couldn’t risk anything else. Not until he knew why they were there.
    ‘We’ll ask the questions,’ Ratratarn said. ‘And we’ll do that inside if we may?’
    It was a rhetorical question. No one invited the Chiang Mai police into their home.
    Didier stepped back to allow the men to pass. The younger one, Komet, had a sweet face, the broad nose and thick lips of a native from northeast Isaan. He looked apologetic, ill at ease in his uniform. Didier guessed he hadn’t been in the force long, and wondered how long it would take for Komet’s face to lose its softness, how long before he would have the same contempt as his commanding officer.
    ‘Komet, you look around.’ Ratratarn issued the order with a tilt of the head and turned to Didier. ‘Mister Good—I believe that’s what they call you, isn’t it? You work in Chiang Mai as a foreign academic. Research on rural development; AIDS education. You do—what’s the expression?—“outreach work” in the clubs and bars.’
    Despite the humidity, a chill ran down Didier’s spine. Ratratarn spoke as if he’d had Didier under surveillance for some time. He should’ve seen this coming.
    ‘So,’ Ratratarn continued, ‘exactly where were you earlier this evening?’
    ‘I was in a bar behind the Night Bazaar called Man Date.’
    ‘Who were you there with?’
    ‘Friends. Thai friends.’
    Ratratarn eyeballed him, a gesture Didier knew was disrespectful. ‘What were the names of these friends?’
    Before Didier could answer, the younger officer came back into the room.
    ‘Excuse me, Sir,’ he said, ‘I thought you should see this.’
    Komet handed over one of Didier’s pamphlets. Ratratarn opened it, glanced at the contents, and folded it again. With his index