The Coroner's Lunch by Colin Cotterill Page A

Director Suk out of his job. He has a family. Please give him another chance.”
    “Director…? Goodness, no, Siri. I’m talking about the retard you have as your morgue laborer. I’m prepared to offer a full salary for that position now.”
    “I’m so pleased. Mr. Geung will be delighted when I tell him he can have a living wage.”
    “Pay attention. I’m telling you to get rid of him and hire a normal person.”
    “I can’t get rid of him. He’s the only one there who knows what to do.”
    “He’s mentally deranged.”
    “Aren’t we all?”
    “I’m beginning to wonder in your case, Doctor.”
    Siri sighed. “Judge Haeng, Mr. Geung has a mild strain of Down Syndrome. His condition makes him ideally suited for repetitive work. My predecessor spent a good deal of time teaching him his job. He isn’t going to forget it. He isn’t dangerous or clumsy, and his condition isn’t likely to offend any of the clients we get passing through our place.
    “He’s been at the morgue for three years, so when I say he knows the work better than I do, I’m not being facetious. He’s constantly reminding me of procedures I’ve forgotten, and where things are stored. He has an amazing memory, and my nurse Dtui and I love him very much.”
    Haeng was becoming agitated. He tapped his pencil on the table so hard the lead broke. “I’m overwhelmed with emotion. I can barely keep my eyes dry. But now let us return to rational thought for a second. Can you imagine how this would look if a visiting dignitary came to tour the hospital?”
    “And I wasn’t wearing my plastic shoes, and Dtui forgot to put on her underwear—”
    “Doctor!”
    “Visiting dignitaries don’t go anywhere near morgues; and if by some miracle they did, they’d be struck by the compassion our great and farsighted republic shows by hiring three minority groups to work together in the same office. You have women, retarded, and horribly old people, all there on show.”
    Phosy, who had been silent and unflinching throughout this embarrassing confrontation, suddenly cleared his throat loudly and offered: “I have a Mongoloid cousin. He doesn’t do any harm. He even fries us bananas every Friday. Most of the time we even forget he’s nuts.”
    Siri and Haeng turned to look at the policeman, who wasn’t making eye contact with either of them.
    That simple comment poured oil on the troubled waters in Judge Haeng’s office. It also let the judge know he was outnumbered. He agreed that Geung could stay on, pending an external assessment, but that he certainly wasn’t qualified for the raise Haeng had mentioned.
    With that, the meeting ended. Siri and Phosy shook the judge’s hand and walked to the door together. But before following Siri into the hall, Phosy turned back.
    “Comrade Judge, I feel compelled to tell you that today’s meeting has been a great inspiration to me. I hope it won’t embarrass you too much if I say that my confidence and my faith in the socialist system become re-ignited whenever I meet people such as yourself. I’m so happy that my country has figureheads like you to look up to.”
    Hearing this from his spot in the hall, Siri felt like throwing up. When the policeman eventually joined him, they walked in silence along the concrete passageway to the carpark. This was the man they’d given Siri to work with, so, like it or not, he had to be polite. He watched him put his notebook into the pannier at the front of his old French motorbike.
    “So, does your cousin live with your family?”
    The policeman looked down at his boots. “What cousin’s that?”
    “Your banana-frying Mongoloid cousin.” There wasn’t a reaction. “You haven’t got one, have you?”
    Inspector Phosy straddled his bike. The slightest of smiles creased his lips. “I’ve got a sister with hemorrhoids.” He kick-started the bike four or five times before it engaged. There was a fearsome noise from the engine. Black smoke belched from the