Free Disco for the Departed by Colin Cotterill Page B

his wife's love for him began to dim. In Siri's heart, the love light never went out. He loved her until her death, but he knew she'd already begun to consider her husband a disappointment. Through all that time, only his friendship with Civilai had kept him rational, and as the Party dumped more and more meaningless duties on Civilai, it was Siri who offered encouragement and hope to his friend.
    The photograph before him showed one more symbolic handshake with one more foreign official. It was another snap for the diplomatic album. Civilai had told Siri he was becoming the Mickey Mouse of the new regime. He--
    "Comrade?" Siri looked up to see the guard whose station was at the upstairs partition standing, drained of color, in the doorway. "You're a doctor, right?"
    "That's right," said Siri.
    "Come with me quick." He didn't wait for a response, but turned on his heel and ran back up the stairs four at a time. From his many years of experience, Siri knew that ten seconds saved by sprinting up a flight of stairs rather than walking rarely made a difference, apart from possibly killing the physician as well as the patient. So he took the stairs one at a time and was met by the flustered guard on his way back down.
    "Hurry up," the guard said. "It's a life-and-death matter." Despite the urgency, he'd spared the time to relock the upstairs door before going for Siri. His hands shook now as he attempted to insert the key into the padlock. Siri reached the top landing just as the man burst through the first door and ran along the corridor to a second. That, too, was locked. Siri wondered what ferocious beast required such security measures. As he walked past the first room, he looked in through the open door. Three expensive-looking leather suitcases sat on one of the beds. On the floor was a large tray of seedlings and small pots containing cuttings.
    "In here," shouted the guard. "He's not dead yet."
    On the only bed in the next room, convulsed in pain, frothing at the mouth, was a middle-aged man with greased hair wearing simple but expensive pajamas. On the floor beside the bed, lying on its side, was a brown glass bottle. The label was in Russian but the universal skull and cross-bones left no doubt as to its contents. Siri prized open the man's eyes and looked into his pupils. He then forced open the man's mouth to see his tongue and sniffed at his breath.
    "They was cleaning the rooms after them others left. Stupid bitch must have left the cleanser in the sink. Don't know how he got hold of it. Must've been on his way back from the toilet and grabbed it without me seeing. Stupid bastard. It'll be me that gets shot if anything happens." The guard was ranting, pacing up and down the room. "Hospital! Can we get him to the hospital? Can you fix him up? Doc? Can you, Doc?"
    "Listen, comrade," Siri said, looking up at the frantic guard. "I can't do anything with you stomping around like a rampant capitalist. I want you to go down to the kitchen and get the ladies to boil two liters of water. Stir in a handful of salt and about thirty cc's of cooking oil. Don't come back till it's all ready."
    "Right." The guard abandoned his charge and sped to the kitchen. The poisoned man still squirmed in agony on the bed.
    "It's okay," Siri said. "He's gone. You can stop now."
    The man flinched for a second but then began to growl deep in his throat. "Hospital."
    "You and I both know that isn't going to happen, don't we now?"
    "Dying."
    "Come on. You're no more dying than I am. In fact, I probably look in worse condition than you do. Exactly what did you think this little show would achieve?"
    The man spat the remainder of the foam from his mouth and looked up angrily at Siri. "Who in blazes are you?"
    "Dr. Siri Paiboun."
    "Egad. What are the odds of there being a bloody doctor in a place like this?" He sat up and shook his head.
    "It was a good show. I doubt anyone else would have dared get close enough to smell the toothpaste. I imagine the