To the look of surprise on Klay’s face, Barrow said, “No, no, no. It’s common. It’s the culture. First thing our people do overseas is register every foreigner they meet as an asset. You’d be shocked how many dry cleaners and housekeepers pose a class two threat to this nation’s security. Most never know they were listed. Eady’s got half the magazine down as his assets. Problem is nobody remembers Eady. Remembers? Hell, he’s been filing reports for so long, the guy who’s supposed to look at them is dead.

“So, our people take a look. They review Eady’s file and realize we don’t know what this Tom Klay is up to. They see a possible overlap with your work and the interests of one Terry Krieger, so they send the tickler up to me, as required. Because that’s what I do, Tom. I hunt the rotten apples. I sniff them, test the soft spots, and when it’s appropriate, I . . . well, you get it.

“I take a look at Eady’s reports and my little man goes off. You ever see that one? Edward G. Robinson? The insurance investigator with a little man inside tells him when something’s not kosher?”

Klay did not respond. He looked at the age spots on the top of Barrow’s balding head, the wrinkles along the buttons of his yellow dress shirt straining to hold his belly.

“It’s a helluva picture. Well, I look at what he’s got going, and mine goes off like a ten-year-old boy on the Coney Island Cyclone. Wooot!”

Klay leaned forward. “I don’t give a shit about you and your little man, Barrow,” he sneered. “Why should I believe a fucking thing you say?”

Barrow squinted at him for a long moment. “Okay,” he said, and dusted salt from his hands. “I’m going to tell you about it because I need your help, and I believe the best way to make a man trustworthy is to trust him. That’s the only reason I’m telling you any of this by the way”—his jovial tone turned cold—“instead of letting you rot in Gabriel Ncube’s prison.” Barrow took a sip of his bourbon. “Krieger’s focus is China. China’s Ultimate Silk Road Project. Biggest public works project the world has ever known. It began—”

“I know. Everybody knows about it.”