"I couldn't have said it better."

Tan turned with a look of confusion that quickly soured. "Don't twist my words, dammit!" he spat, and marched back to his desk. He folded his hands over the Public Security file. "I will say it only once more. This investigation will not be the responsibility of young pups in the prosecutor's office. Jao was a hero of the revolution. He was my friend. Some things are too important to delegate. You will proceed as we discussed. It will be my signature on the file. We will not have this discussion again."

Shan followed Tan's gaze to the door. It wasn't simply that Tan didn't trust the assistant prosecutor, Shan suddenly realized. He was frightened of Li.

"You cannot avoid the assistant prosecutor," Shan observed. "There will be questions about Jao that will have to be answered by his office. About his enemies. His cases. His personal life. His residence will need to be searched. His travel records. His car. There must have been a car. Find the car and you may find where Jao met his murderer."

"I knew him for years. I myself may have some answers. Miss Lihua, his secretary, is a friend. She will also help. For others you will prepare written questions which I will submit. We will dictate some to Madame Ko before you go."

Tan wanted to keep Li busy. Or distracted.

The colonel pushed the Bureau's file toward Shan. "Sungpo is his name. Forty years old. Arrested at a small gompa called Saskya, in the far north of the county. Without a license. Damned negligent, to let them return to their home gompas."

"You intend to try him for murder and then for practicing as a monk without a permit?" Shan could not help himself. "It might seem-" He searched for a word. "Overzealous."

Tan frowned. "There must be others at the gompa who could be squeezed. Going rate for wearing a robe without a license is two years. Jao used to do it all the time. If you need to, pick them up, threaten to send them to lao gai if they don't talk."

Shan stared at him.

"All right," Tan conceded with a cold smile. "Tell them I will send them to lao gai."

"You have not explained how he was identified."

"An informant. Anonymous. Called Jao's office."

"You mean Li made the arrest?"

"A Public Security team."

"Then he has his own investigation underway?"

As if on cue there was a hammering on the door. A high-pitched protest erupted, and Madame Ko appeared. "Comrade Li," she announced, her face flushed. "He has become insistent."

"Tell him to report back later today. Make an appointment."

A tiny smile betrayed Madame Ko's approval. "There's someone else," she added. "From the American mine."

Tan sighed and pointed to a chair in the corner shadows. Shan obediently sat down. "Show him in."

Li's protests increased in volume as a figure flew through the door. It was the red-haired American woman Shan had seen at the cave. Looks of confusion passed between Tan and the woman.

"There's really nothing else to say, Miss Fowler," Tan said with a chill. "That business is concluded."

"I asked to reach Prosecutor Jao," Fowler said hesitantly as she surveyed the office. "They told me to come here. I thought perhaps he had returned."

"You are not here about the cave?"

"You and I have said what we could. I will file a complaint with the Religious Bureau."

"That could be embarrassing," Colonel Tan retorted.

"You have reason to be embarrassed."

"I meant for you. You have no evidence. No grounds for a complaint. We will have to state that you encroached on a military operation."

"She asked to see Prosecutor Jao," Shan interjected.

Tan shot Shan a cold glare as Fowler walked to the window only a few feet from Shan. She wore blue jeans again, and the same hiking boots. Sunglasses hung on a black cord around her neck, over a blue nylon vest identical to the one Shan had seen on the American man at the cave. She wore no makeup and no jewelry except for tiny golden studs in her ears. What was the other name Colonel Tan had used? Rebecca. Rebecca Fowler. The American woman glanced at Shan, and he saw recognition in her eyes. You were there too, her eyes accused him, disturbing a holy place.

"I'm sorry. I didn't come to argue," she said to Tan in a new, conciliatory tone. "I have a problem at the mine."

"If there were no problems," Tan observed unsympathetically, "they wouldn't need you to manage the mine."

Her jaw clenched. Shan could see she was struggling not to argue with Tan. She chose to speak toward the sky. "A labor problem."

"Then the Ministry of Geology is the responsible office. Perhaps Director Hu-" Tan suggested.

"It's not that kind of problem." She turned and faced Tan. "I would just like to speak with Jao. I know he's supposed to be away. A phone number would do."

"Why Jao?" Tan asked.

"He helps. When I have a problem I can't understand, Jao helps."

"What sort of problem can't you understand?"

Fowler sighed and moved back to sit at Tan's desk. "My pilot production has begun. Commercial production is scheduled for next month. But first my pilot batches have to be analyzed and qualified by our lab in Hong Kong."

"I still don't-"

"Now the shipping arrangements have been accelerated by the Ministry without consulting me. Airport freight schedules have been changed without notice. Increased security. Increased red tape. Because of tourists."

"The season has started early. Tourism is becoming Tibet's strongest source of foreign exchange. Quotas have been increased."

"Lhadrung was closed to tourists when I took this job."

"That's right," Colonel Tan acknowledged. "A new initiative. Surely you will be glad to see some fellow Americans, Miss Fowler."

The sullen cast of Rebecca Fowler's face said otherwise. Was the mine manager merely disinterested in tourists, or actually unhappy about the prospect of visiting Americans? Shan wondered.

"Don't patronize me. It's all about foreign exchange. If you would only let us, we will produce foreign exchange as well."

Tan lit a cigarette and smiled without warmth. "Miss Fowler, Lhadrung County's first visit of tourists from your country must go perfectly. But still I don't-"

"To get my containers out on time I need double shifts. And I can't even put together half a shift. My workers won't venture to the back ponds. Some won't leave the main compound."

"A strike? I recall that you were warned about using only minority workers. They are unpredictable."

"Not a strike. No. They are good workers. The best. But they're scared."

"Scared?"

Rebecca Fowler ran her fingers through her hair. She looked like she had not slept in days. "I don't know how to say this. They say our blasting woke up a demon. They say he is angry. People are scared of the mountains."

"These are superstitious people, Miss Fowler," Tan offered. "The Religious Affairs Bureau has counselors experienced with the minorities. Cultural mediators. Director Wen could send some."

"I don't need counselors. I need someone to operate my machinery. You have an engineering unit. Let me borrow them for two weeks."

Tan bristled. "You are speaking of the People's Liberation Army, Miss Fowler. Not some wage laborers you can pull off the street."