"Some people see conspiracies everywhere."

"This is the People's Republic, Prosecutor. Its lifeblood is conspiracy."

Her eyes flared, and she looked about at the other tables. No one seemed to be listening. "Be careful, comrade. I know my responsibilities to the state."

"Wonderful news," Shan snapped.

Her brow wrinkled in question.

"That you take your job seriously. The prosecution of crime, isn't that what it is?"

She frowned again and pulled on her cigarette.

"Maybe this investigator from Beijing," Shan said, "maybe he discovered the most important thing of all. That working for the government is not always the same as working for the people."

She surveyed the compound. Shan followed her gaze and saw another familiar face among the men at the mahjong table, despite the oversized Chinese army hat pulled low over his head. Fat Mao.

The horse cart pulled slowly away from the garage bay.

"I checked with all the Ministry offices from here to Kashgar and a hundred miles east. There have been no other reports of children being killed."

He stared at her. She did not blink, she did not look away. "Another boy was killed since the one brought to Yoktian," Shan announced. "The fourth boy."

"No." Xu glared at him resentfully. "I don't believe it."

"You said no once before, Comrade Prosecutor, when I told you boys were dying."

Xu frowned and said nothing.

"A boy named Khitai was killed near the giant prayer flag in the mountains. You know that flag."

"I know it," she replied stiffly.

Shan nodded. "You were seen there." A thought occurred to Shan. Batu had believed Xu had gone to find boys and kill them. But maybe she was following someone. She had left the camera for surveillance. He had thought it was to watch for Buddhists and dissidents. But maybe it was to watch for the killer.

Her eyes smoldered.

"Perhaps it means you are close to an arrest," Shan suggested, returning her angry gaze.

"A small group of herders had been seen there three days ago. We went to investigate. They may have been with one of Lau's zheli. Or perhaps they needed to be registered for the Poverty Scheme."

"Two days," Shan said. "The herders were there two days ago. The day the boy died."

Xu shook her head. "Three."

If she was right, Shan thought, then Batu had also been right. More than one zheli boy had gone to the lama field to complete his project for the dead teacher.

"Show me the body," Xu said tersely.

He shook his head. "Khitai is buried. He has been violated enough."

"Then only one boy died," Xu said. "That's all we know. One boy killed, that could be anything. We have an official investigation. Forensic exams shows a small-caliber bullet. Could have been a hunting accident. The clans are allowed to have small-caliber firearms for hunting."

"A hunting accident?" Prosecutor Xu, Shan decided, was a very complicated woman. "I thought it was feudalism, you said."

"Fine. Without question it demonstrates the corrosive influence of the old clan structures. Irresponsibility. Lawlessness in the mountains. This is the twenty-first century, comrade. It has to stop. I am always willing to throw the full weight of my office to assist victims of crime. But first they have to ask. Let them file reports if others died. I will not accept rumors. Not about Lau. Not about other boys. The resources of a great nation are theirs if they ask."

"Speaking statistically, Comrade Prosecutor, how many reports of serious crime do you receive from the nomads?"

"A few every year."

"How many from Han living in the district?"

"More than ninety percent of my reports are from Han."

"And the Han represent how much of the population?"

"Resettlement has been slow this far away." She shrugged. "Thirty-two percent is the official number."

"And you resent the Tibetans and Kazkahs and Uighurs for not reporting crimes."

"It's difficult enough, keeping such a vast country together. We all have to cooperate. A citizen who does not participate is not a complete citizen. People must be taught to come to us."

"Perhaps a giant tamzing. Bring all the herders in. And their sheep. Can't forget their sheep. The herds are so disorganized. Prioritization for the Party."

As Xu looked at the ember of her cigarette an expression of bitterness seemed to pass over her face. Could it indeed be true that she took her job seriously?

"There are some investigations," he ventured, "where you reach the end and wish no complaint had ever been filed. Because of what you have to report."

"Don't tell me my job. I've been prosecutor a long time, Comrade Shan."

"I know," Shan shot back. "Twelve years in Yoktian."

She fixed him with a frigid stare. "I meant, I know how to write reports."

He stared at her and saw the admission in her eyes. They both knew that in the People's Republic writing reports on criminal investigations was one of the highest forms of art. "Most times," he said very slowly, "you just have to write about who the criminals are. But sometimes there are cases where you have to write about who you are."

Xu didn't reply. She lit another cigarette from the first and stared at the makeshift tabletop, a piece of rough plywood, as though suddenly interested in its patterns of wood grain. "We have a file on the dead boy. Director Ko has suggested several suspects. I have been trying to find others who may have information. Apparently the children, the zheli, were very secretive. Lau didn't record their whereabouts. No one seems to know much."

"Director Ko?"

"The Brigade knows the clans better than any organization. They are at the forefront in implementing many social policies." She worked her tongue against her cheek, as if chewing on something. "It makes them a target sometimes. For resisters."

"Resisters?"

"Clan members who oppose the Poverty Scheme, for example. Someone sabotaged a Brigade truck yesterday."

"A truck?"

"A transport for livestock was stolen. A Brigade driver in a car gave chase into the mountains. On a curve, the truck rolled over and burned. Kazahks or Uighurs did it. We're investigating."

Shan stared around the compound again. Had the Maos stolen the truck, hoping to set up some kind of ambush?

"The Brigade is our engine of social change in Xinjiang. We all have to keep that engine running," Xu stated. It had the tone of a political mantra, preapproved by Party headquarters.

Shan recalled his last conversation with Kaju. "What," he asked, "is the Brigade doing with infants at the local clinic?"

Xu frowned again. "Now you're suspicious when someone helps babies? You're paranoid. Delusional. Maybe you feel so guilty about being a Han that you hate all Han. I can find-" She searched for a word, "therapists who could help with that. Everyone knows the newborn survival rate among the minorities is low. Ko wants to help."

Shan watched as the horse wagon stopped in front of the prosecutor's car. The driver unhitched the horse and led it away. He looked closer. There was no room at the front. The wagon blocked the car. He surveyed the compound. Jakli had said Xu might bring others, disguised as truck drivers.

"That's a Buddhist thing," she said suddenly, taking notice of his mudra.