Field straightened. “He was English?”

“Yes.”

“The man who came to see her?”

“Yes.”

“He was certainly English?”

“That’s what I said, yes.”

“He wasn’t Chinese? There was no way she could have been covering up for-”

“Why should she cover up that? Everyone knew Lu owned her. Owned her apartment, her clothes, her-”

“So it wasn’t Lu?”

“You’re not listening. Englishman.”

“There is no chance that you are mistaken?”

“She was drunk, I not so much. She did not intend to tell me and knew, once she had done so, that she should not have. But she did not worry. She trusted me.”

“Did she give any clue as to this man’s identity? Did she mention the company he worked for? Did she mention Fraser’s?”

He shook his head. “No. Rich, powerful. Decent. That’s what she said. He had promised her a new life. A passport-a British passport-money, a new life somewhere outside Shanghai.” Sergei looked at Field soberly. “She believed him. She wrote to her sister in Harbin, to get her-”

“That’s what Lu had on Lena?”

Sergei looked puzzled.

“Anything Lena did wrong would be taken out on the sister?”

Sergei nodded slowly. “She sent the girl to Harbin, but she knew Lu could find her if he wanted. She said he believed in insurance policies.”

“The Englishman,” Field said. “He was a businessman, a taipan?”

“I should think so. Even when she was drunk, she would not say.”

“Tell me about the shipments.”

“What shipments?” Sergei began to get up.

“Sit down.”

“I want some water.”

“In a minute.” Field stood. “Hidden in Lena’s apartment was a list of shipments-consignments of sewing machines bound for various European cities. There’s one leaving this weekend. The Saratoga.”

Sergei’s eyes darted left and right. “I don’t know.”

“Yes you do.”

“I know nothing about them.”

The Russian was looking down at the floor again, and Field moved swiftly, taking a pace toward him and smacking him across the side of the face before Sergei had had a chance to protect himself.

He lay whimpering on the bed, curled up in a ball. Caprisi still didn’t move.

“Jesus… Jesus…,” Sergei groaned.

“Quickly.”

“I don’t know.” Sergei was crying now. “Drugs. That’s what she said. The best opium.”

Field pulled him upright. “We’ve worked that out, but what’s the deal?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean what’s the deal, Sergei? How does it work?”

“It’s a syndicate. It’s about connections. Lu provides the opium and then they stack it into the machines and import huge quantities of it into Europe. The authorities here, the police…”

“Who?”

“I don’t know. She just said it was cast iron, that they knew they would never be caught, because they had everyone at every level tied down, all the way through to the destinations.”

“Why was Lena making these notes?”

“What do you mean?”

“What I said, Sergei. Why was Lena taking notes? How was she finding this stuff out, and why was she keeping a note of it?”

The Russian was shaking now. “I don’t know. Her lover told her, or she overheard. I don’t know. It was her attempt at an insurance policy. She would go to the press, she said, if they didn’t give her what she wanted, but I said… you know, I told her, these people are dangerous, maybe they even control the press.”

Field heard the siren of a French police car in the distance, getting rapidly closer. “Fuck,” he said, feeling for his holster and checking that he still had his revolver.

“That’s the-”

“Shut up,” Field said. “Is there a back way out?”

Sergei shook his head.

“A window?”

“From the bathroom you can jump onto the roof of the store below.”

“Did Lena say that she’d seen some records of these shipments?”

Sergei looked frightened.

“Did she ever say that she’d seen a record of it in Lu’s house? Is that how she was making the notes?”

Sergei started to shake again.

Field walked to the window overlooking the street. A green Citroën sedan pulled up outside the café. He turned back to Sergei. “We did not give you our names, and you do not know who we were.”

Sergei nodded. He looked utterly wretched.

Field went into the bathroom, opened the window, and dropped down onto the flat roof. Caprisi came down behind him. He did not look at the American until they had clambered down to the street and walked clear.

Field stopped to light himself a cigarette. “So now you’re following me, too.”

“I don’t trust you on your own, polar bear.”

“Cut the polar bear crap,” Field said.

“You’re going down and I don’t want to see it.”

“Well then, close your eyes.” Caprisi was looking at him with concern, possibly even affection, but Field couldn’t tell which. He felt he’d lost the ability to distinguish between what was real and what was imagined. “I’m a grown man, Caprisi, and I’d be grateful if you could refrain from following me. I don’t want to shoot you by mistake.”

Caprisi’s eyes were steady, his face hardening. “I can’t force you to help yourself, Richard, but we had an understanding-that we needed to exercise extreme caution-and you’re breaking the rules.”

“Whose rules are they?”

“You’re supposed to be running the girl, remember? Using her for us. How long do you think you can go on flailing around like this before her owner discovers what is going on?”

“I’ve discovered there are no rules.”

“You’re behaving like this is a game.”

“I can assure you, it’s not a game to me.”

“You were the one who wanted to take him on, Field. We are trying to catch a killer, and in the process bring down the man who protects him.”

“I thought Macleod wanted to clean up the city.”

“Macleod knows what he is dealing with.”

Field sighed. “And so do we. A powerful Englishman. The most powerful in the city.”

Caprisi looked at him. “I hope that is what your mind is on, polar bear. I really do.”

“Charles Lewis?”

“It fits. It more than fits. Lena talked about a powerful English taipan. She finds out and makes notes about drug shipments that are being moved through one of his factories. Lu cleans up after him in order to keep the syndicate operating. It must be Lewis. It all points to him.”

“But…” Field’s brow furrowed. “I mean, he’s an arrogant bastard, and I know he likes to hurt women, but why would he risk everything?”

“Rich people don’t like to kill anyone?”

Field pictured the Chinese girl at the club, handcuffed and whimpering. Then he thought of Natasha and Lewis. “I’ve got to go.”

“Go where?”

“Just something I need to do.”

“I’ve said my piece, Field.”

“Yes, I heard it.”

Caprisi stared at him.

“You won’t follow me this time, will you?”

“Just make sure no one else does. They’re interested now.”

“What’s got them interested?”

“At a guess, the other girls. Ignatiev and Simonov. Lu must know we know about them. Perhaps the killer is beginning to get nervous. Perhaps, beneath his customary air of cool, Lewis is getting worried.”

Field looked at Caprisi for a few moments, then turned away.