Although his appointment was at nine, it was nearly twenty past before a secretary came to fetch him, leading him upstairs and along corridors, through an outer office and eventually knocking on the imposing door of the office of Deputy Procurator General Zeng. “Come,” Zeng called, and the secretary opened the door for Li to enter. Zeng rose from his desk, a tall, thin man with steel-grey hair swept straight back from a long face punctuated by round spectacles in metal frames. He was in shirtsleeves, with a jacket draped over the back of his seat. He held out a hand. “Congratulations on your promotion, Deputy Section Chief Li.”

Li shook his hand. “I am honoured to meet you, Deputy Procurator General Zeng.”

The formalities over, Zeng waved at a chair. “Have a seat, Li.” He wandered round the desk and perched on a corner of it, one foot still on the floor. Li sat uncomfortably in a deep leather chair. A fan swinging lazily overhead blew hot air from one part of the office to another. “Second day on the job, hmm?” Li nodded. “An eventful first day.”

“It was.”

“Three murders in one night. More like New York than Beijing.” Li was uncertain how he was expected to respond, so he said nothing. Zeng stood up and walked to the window, lowering Venetian blinds to stop the sun from streaming in. “That’s better. Can’t stand to have it too bright in here. Autumn’s a better season in Beijing, don’t you think? Not so hot, and the light has a softer quality about it.”

“Yes.”

“You’re from Sichuan.” Again, Li was unsure if this was a statement or a question. “A lovely province. Can’t stand the food, though. Too hot for my taste. What do you say?”

This was a good question. Li hadn’t a clue. “I wouldn’t know.”

“Wouldn’t know what?”

“About your taste, Deputy Procurator General.”

“No, I meant your taste, Li. Do you like all that spicy food?”

“Very much.”

“Well, I suppose you grew up with it. Must be tough.”

Again, Li was lost. Zeng seemed to switch subject without any obvious rationale. It was almost as if he were trying to trip Li up. “What must be tough?”

“Following in the footsteps of someone as famous in the police department as your uncle was. Lot to live up to. Given you problems, has it?” He watched Li carefully.

“No, it hasn’t. Following in my uncle’s footsteps has been an honour and a privilege.” Li was deeply ill at ease. What was this all about?

Zeng moved back to his chair, leaning on one elbow and regarding Li speculatively. “Can’t say I approve particularly of using an American pathologist to perform autopsies on Beijing murder victims. Apart from anything else, she’s not going to be around when we’re prosecuting the case in court.”