“I’m sorry,” he said, and began reaching for his badge.

She grinned. “I’m sorry,” she echoed, just as something slammed into Shan’s skull.

When he regained consciousness, he was in a metal armchair, his forearms bound to the chair with duct tape. He blinked away the pain in his forehead and saw a thin, athletic-looking woman with short black hair in a kitchen alcove preparing a meal.

“Tink will share some noodles with you, before you go,” came a deep baritone voice from the shadows along the wall, “just to show no hard feelings. First timers sometimes get smitten and don’t always understand it’s hands off. She’s a dancer, and sometimes a masseuse, but that’s all.” It was a Western voice, but it spoke perfect Mandarin.

“Tink?” Shan asked. The fog in his head was slowly clearing, and he turned toward the speaker, who now approached. The American had a strong, lean face. Its small scars from close-in fighting had not shown on the grainy security video.

“When I lived in Beijing, I was surprised to see images of Peter Pan,” the man said. “I realized that the yearning for eternal youth is universal. That’s why places like Jamalinka exist, little pockets of Neverland to capture an instant of youth. It took me a lot longer to realize that just a smile from a beautiful young woman often does the job as well as an hour in her bed. Tink has a magical smile. I told her she should charge for her smiles. Tinker Bell, the fairy of eternal youth. And she cooks!”

“I’ve never met a Chinese woman named after Tinker Bell.”

“My invention, but she likes it.”

“Being knocked unconscious seems to dilute some of the magic,” Shan observed.

The American gave a short laugh and pointed to a club on the table, with a towel wrapped around it fastened with duct tape. “We soften the blow so there’s no permanent damge. You need to learn that there are rules in places like Jamalinka. A lot of rules. Don’t follow a girl home, that’s one of the important ones. Don’t trespass into her apartment. Don’t trespass and start taking off your clothes. I helped you avoid greater unpleasantries. It was a light tap, in just the right spot to take you out for five minutes. I’ll find you an aspirin. Tink’s noodles are first rate.”

“I wasn’t taking off my clothes,” Shan explained. “I was reaching into my pocket, Mr. Pike.”

The American stiffened and muttered a low curse in English. Shan did not resist as he reached into Shan’s pocket and opened the leather folder. He stared at Shan for several long breaths. “This can get complicated, Inspector,” he said. “How about if I just leave and Tink gives you a rubdown?”

“I am very sorry about your daughter,” Shan said.