As for the elephant in the room, we make no further reference to it. The fatwa’s just there, lighting Larry up from the inside. In odd moments when I believe he’s sleeping I steal a glimpse at the Internet to try to gain perspective on the issue, Googling the history of the Motor Men and/or digging up strangely pertinent definitions.

cozen transitive verb:

1. To cheat; to defraud; to deceive, usually by petty tricks. Perhaps derives from Early Modern French cousiner, “to defraud; literally to treat as if a cousin (hence to claim to be a cousin in order to defraud).”

So much have I become his Mini-Me that I find myself thinking, Maybe there is something sweet about the life of a munitions dealer. After all, isn’t that the profession Rimbaud entered after resigning from poetry at age nineteen-how bad could it be? Larry’s shuffling walk, his stumbling gait, I now view as languid. Even the fatwa now makes a kind of mad sense to me. Larry’s not an evil monster. He’s merely concocted the perfect payback for his disadvantaged life. And it is perfect. Burton was the first golden boy of the overprivileged generation from which Larry was excluded. By screwing Burton, he’s in effect screwing this whole generation of rich snots, including me.

And by roping me in, he’s made me a party to my own screwing.

Only one thing is going to snap me out of this-seeing Jade hop two-footed out of her bullet train from Beijing to visit us.

“Hey there, 24.”

“Hello, 84.”

I’m touched by her smallness when we hug on the platform. Pulling away, I’m amazed by all I’d forgotten or hadn’t sufficiently noticed: those oblong nostrils, the bubbles in her teeth that keep re-creating themselves. She has a delightful thing she does with her tongue when she speaks. Sometimes it licks her bottom lip so it’s as glossy as lipstick, other times it curls beneath her back teeth in an almost impish manner. How had I overlooked this before?

And she’s so happy! “I nudge you,” she says, pushing my shoulder slightly.

“I nudge you, too,” I say, returning the endearment or whatever it’s supposed to be. This makes her happier still, her face both familiar and new, and so animated I can barely keep up with it. But then one last fleeting hug as her face takes a sudden downturn.

“Worried about you and Larry so much!”

So we’re off.

In the cab from the train station, I have a silent conversation. Cool God! You who maketh Situations Splendid! Thank You for the women You alwayssend my way. Where would we men be without them? Women arranged for me to find this hospital, women have been caring for Larry in this hospital, women do everything but pack my lunch and give me milk money! How in the world did You engineer them so fierce and loving? I even got e-mails in the last few days from my old Asian flames, Corazón and Company, who forgive me, of all things…asking what they can do to help! O Lordy Lord I long to praise, who chilleth out the passions of crazy lovers in due time and restoreth order between cousins, where would we be without You?

Per Jade’s request we go directly to see Larry. I usher her into our sheet-darkened cave, kicking Ring Ding wrappers out of the way, closing the door to the bathroom so no vagabond scents might offend her quivering oblongs. Just having someone in my corner to objectify things rouses me from the stupor I’ve been in since the Shabbos Duck. I reclaim myself.

The deposed ayatollah is snoring. Jade looks him over fondly, fretfully, maternally-the hulk reduced to a fetal figure under a blanket that shudders with his breathing.

“You really stay here now?” she whispers. “I thought you joshing me.”

“Oh, ain’t no joshing matter.”

“Why he keep cell phone in Kleenex box?”

“So he won’t lose it, along with his important documents.”

“Why instruction papers taped all over walls?”

“To remind him where the Kleenex box is.”

Jade assesses the situation with a gravity I haven’t seen before. “Oy vay,” she concludes. “What Dr. X say about situation?”

“We haven’t been able to see him.”

“Ma?!” she cries, a hoarse whisper. “But this is the deal, you are here for Dr. X.”

“We’re just playing by their rules.”

Jade takes note of my helpless grimace, makes a decision. “No matter,” she declares. “We find Dr. X now, get the fresh scoop.”

Instantly Larry wakes up. “I’m coming,” he says.

“The patient spying on us!” Jade giggles, giving him a kiss on his cheek. “You overhear all our state secrets.”

“Huwwo, Jade, huwwo, Dan,” he says. Just by the pitch he uses, I can tell, mercifully, that we’re back to our original dynamics. His reign of terror’s over.

“But we have no appointment,” I note.

“We hunt him down!” Jade says.

Larry and I exchange a wary look, the first eyeball contact we’ve had in a week. Why hadn’t we thought of that?

“By the way, Dan, you don’t have to worry about my conduct,” he says as Jade and I help him put on his Sunday best. “I’ve mastered a blend just for situations like these-a unique mix of obsequiousness and assertiveness that I think you’ll appreciate.”

“Better to err on the side of shutting up,” I caution him. Sorry if that came out unkindly, but I’ve just come off a dark week, and with so much at stake in this meeting, we can’t afford to have anyone rock the boat.

“Aye-aye, Cap’n,” he replies good-naturedly. “It’s doubtful you’ll hear peep one from me.”

I’m not letting him off the hook. “Whatever you do,” I say, ducking into the bathroom to prepare, “just don’t pitch him any inventions.”

“Scout’s honor,” Larry says. He flashes me a smile meant to be charming.

On the fourth floor, Jade and I support a formally clad Larry by either elbow as we find a wall directory behind glass. Jade runs her finger down a list of Chinese names, and we travel through a maze of corridors until we locate the corresponding office number. The light under his door indicates that Dr. X is in. Larry stops me from knocking so he can push three mini Dove chocolates into his mouth. “Energy,” he explains.

“You sure you’re okay to do this?” I ask.

“Give me thirty seconds,” he says, pushing in three more. Finally: “Let’s do it.”

Just as I’m about to knock, though, another delay. Larry is looking at me as though a turkey just flew out of my nose.

“You took your earring out,” he says.

“You noticed.”

“I do have my ‘on’ days, Dan.”

“And let me tell you I never take out my earring for anyone,” I admit. “Not to interview heads of state, not to speak to a convention of shrinks, never. But just this once, I want to make sure there are no glitches.”

“I appreciate it,” Larry says. “This is a very straight individual we’re dealing with.”

Does Larry also notice that I’ve gargled with Listerine and scrubbed my nails? I haven’t taken this many precautions since the reunion with the kidnap cabbie. But after all, what if Dr. X receives a phone call from a certain medical colleague at Harvard-who doesn’t realize how he’s cooking his own goose-and deems it inadvisable to proceed? I need all the credibility I can get.

Larry and I both take a deep breath. Only Jade is completely composed, a blank slate.

We knock.

And are admitted into a plush office. Two walls are lined with ceramic eagles and parrots. In between the sculptures are expensive unopened bottles of imported scotch-more showpieces. The rest of the walls are taken up with photos of Dr. X smiling suavely with various sheiks and international CEOs. But in person Dr. X doesn’t smile as suavely. In fact, he doesn’t smile at all. He looks like a stern older brother of the pleasant man in the photos.

“Your country give us many problems,” Dr. X begins after ushering us to our seats.

I gulp.

“So many bad words, rumors about what we doing. They call us murderer! Say we kill students for kidneys! Members of Falun Gong outlaw sect. We never kill these person. Only murderer-criminals who deserve be killed!”