He very much felt her presence in these rooms. Her scent hung lightly on the air. There was a bowl of oranges on the table and a silk blouse draped over the back of a chair. David's longing for Hulan was greater now than during all the months of separation. He stepped into the bedroom and saw her in bed, waiting for him. He stripped, sank onto the bed, and wrapped his arms around the woman he loved. She nuzzled into him. Her body was warm and her words were tender. Soon their murmured words were replaced by soft groans of pleasure.

David marveled at the changes in Hulan's body. Her breasts felt larger under his fingertips. Her stomach-always hard and flat-had a gentle swell. He let his tongue and lips move lower, constantly aware of her breathing, listening to the changes that would signal she was ready for him. Finally her hands gripped his shoulders, pulling him back into her arms. She wrapped her legs around him, guiding him into her. Her eyes met his, and he knew he was truly home.

David was wide awake at three the next morning. He nudged Hulan. Without opening her eyes, she kissed him and snuggled closer. He listened until her breathing deepened again, then slipped out of bed, made himself a pot of tea, pulled out his laptop, and checked his e-mail. Just before dawn, he put on trunks and a singlet, and set off for a run. By six, he was back at Hulan's. At about the time he stepped out of the shower, the yang ge troupe began banging its cymbals and drums somewhere in the far distance. Despite Hulan's grumblings by phone, her descriptions of the troupe had sounded colorful and quaint, but David didn't go out to investigate, knowing his appearance would attract too much attention. So he made another pot of tea, rummaged through cupboards for crackers, and peeled himself an orange.

At eight, when Investigator Lo arrived to take him to his appointments, Hulan still hadn't wakened. David kissed her gently, then quietly left the compound. Lo drove him to the Kempinski Hotel in the Chaoyang District. In the lobby he was met by a pert young woman, Miss Quo Xuesheng, a Chinese national and until now the only employee of Phillips, MacKenzie on Chinese soil. She wore a bright red suit hemmed well above her knees. Four-inch high heels brought Miss Quo to a still petite height of five feet two inches. To David's eyes she looked very young. In a few questions he determined that she wasn't a lawyer by training, but she did have a lot of experience with foreign companies, for which she'd worked for several years, perfecting her English and working her way up from tea girl to secretary to personal assistant.

"Our first appointment is to look at an apartment and office space in the Kempinski's business complex next door," she said as she led the way back outside and across the hot asphalt to an adjacent high-rise.

"I don't need an apartment," David said, but he was about to have his first lessons in doing business in China. First, Miss Quo had very strong ideas about what foreigners wanted and needed. Second, she was not easily swayed by his opinions or, as he would later find out, direct orders. Third, foreigners who wanted to set up businesses in Beijing were easy marks for every manner of scheme and bribe.

The next three hours were spent going in and out of buildings, up and down elevators, listening to the attributes of particular complexes and neighborhoods. The buildings followed one of two models: either separate structures within the same compound for housing and offices, or both together in the same building. After the Kempinski they got back in the car and drove a few blocks and into a motor court that looked uncomfortably familiar. "This is the Capital Mansion," she said. "Again, you can have housing and office space. I believe this is best for you."

"I don't want to be here," David said, vividly remembering the body that he and Hulan had found here not so long ago-the intestines splayed out, the blood, the smell.

"Because of what happened before," she said amiably. "This I understand, but I have already begun our arrangements."

"Undo them."

"See the rooms, then we'll decide."

David followed Miss Quo, but he barely paid attention to her or the building's director of real estate. When David stepped back outside, Miss Quo stayed behind to talk to the realtor, who was obviously agitated. David wondered just how far the negotiations had gone and if they had gone as far as he suspected, why? As Hulan often said, there were no secrets in Beijing. Certainly Miss Quo seemed to know a lot about him. Clearly she knew about the murder of Cao Hua in this very building. Wouldn't she know this place would upset him?

At last Miss Quo came through the revolving door, got in the car, and snapped out some orders to Investigator Lo in Mandarin. Their next stop was the Manhattan Garden residential complex next to the Chaoyang Golf Course. David explained once again that he didn't need an apartment, but Miss Quo smiled, pretended she didn't understand him, and went on to show him the Manhattan Garden, followed by the Parkview Towers in downtown Beijing, the North Star Commercial and Residential Community, where a thousand foreign families lived and many more worked, and the Bright China Chang An Building, which housed numerous foreign enterprises including Citibank, Samsung, and Abdul Latif Jameel Co., Ltd.

At this point Miss Quo took him to the coffee shop in the Palace Hotel. Miss Quo waved away the menus and ordered in Chinese. Hoping for dumplings or noodles, David was disappointed to have a club sandwich with some limp french fries placed before him. Miss Quo seemed to know almost everyone here, and she waved friends over to meet David and explain that he was opening an office. Each time before they left, she said, "Attorney Stark is a good friend to China, as I'm sure you already know. If you ever need help with business transactions, he will be happy to assist you." She placed a business card with David's name and that of Phillips, MacKenzie amp; Stout in English and Mandarin into each palm. "We will have our office soon," she said. "Until then you know how to reach me." Then there were more handshakes, words of congratulation, and promises of receptions and banquets.

After lunch, he was taken out as far as the Woodlands. Billed as "villas in a resort-like setting," they seemed to David more like tract housing in the San Fernando Valley. Then it was on to something called Beijing Riviera, which boasted luxuriously furnished resort homes complete with central air conditioning, steam showers, Jacuzzis, and heated towel racks. From here they swung back to central Beijing and the Evergreen Gardens. "This is a wonderful place for families," Miss Quo explained. "I don't have a family," David said.

Miss Quo's face crinkled. Between her giggles he ascertained that rentals were $18 U.S. per square meter for lease or $1,188 U.S. per meter if he wanted to buy. He would have needed a calculator to figure this out, but it seemed expensive. But all the prices seemed either confusing or staggering. At the Beijing International Friendship Garden, David was told that he could make "a fifty percent investment and realize a hundred and twenty percent realization of aspiration"-whatever that meant. During the day, as he'd tried to pin down actual prices, he'd heard everything from a low of $6,000 U.S. to a high of $12,000 U.S. a month for a suite with one office and a reception area for Miss Quo.