Li said, “I sent the cigarette ends for testing yesterday. We should have the results this afternoon.”

Margaret looked at him for a moment, then smiled wryly. “Okay, so I think we’re into grandmother and eggs territory here.” And she laughed at his look of complete incomprehension and shook her head. “I’m sorry, forget it. I was being a smartass and you caught me.” An awkward silence descended on them. Margaret’s smile faded. “So . . . these cigarette butts are the only connection?”

“No,” Li said. “There’s the style of the murders. All professional—execution-style killings, as you call them. This is very unusual in China. There is also a drugs connection. As you know, Chao Heng was a heroin addict. The first of your autopsies today, the man known as Mao Mao, dealt drugs on the street.”

“He was also a user,” Professor Xie interrupted.

“Needle tracks on the left arm,” Margaret said.

“Anything else I should know?” Li asked.

Margaret shrugged. “Nothing that’ll make a difference. You’ll get the report tomorrow when we’ve done the sections.” She looked to Professor Xie for confirmation. He nodded.

She started untying her gown. “I’d better get washed and changed.”

“Excuse me,” Professor Xie said, and moved off to talk to his assistants.

Li said, “I’m heading across town, following up on the drugs connection.” He hesitated, slight colour rising on his cheeks again. “Perhaps you would like to come with me.”

Margaret was taken aback, and slightly suspicious. “Why?”

“The man I am going to see is known to control the drugs traffic in Beijing. His nickname is The Needle.”

Margaret looked at him in astonishment. “Well, if you know who he is, why’s he not behind bars, or six foot under with a bullet in his head? That’s how you do it here, isn’t it?”

“If we have the evidence,” Li said, controlling his annoyance. “Contrary to popular belief we don’t shoot people just because we suspect they are guilty. But at least when they are convicted, a bullet in the head is better than ten years on Death Row, destroying their hope and their health before frying them in an electric chair anyway. That sounds like an Amnesty International definition of torture to me.”

“Lethal injection seems to be the current vogue,” Margaret said, neatly sidestepping a fight. She did not want to get involved in an argument about capital punishment. “So I guess that means you don’t have anything on this guy—The Needle.”

“No, we don’t,” Li acknowledged.

“So what do you want me along for?” Margaret was desperate to go, but she wasn’t going to let Li know that.

“I don’t . . . particularly,” Li said casually. He didn’t want to seem over-anxious to have her join him. But at the same time, he didn’t want to put her off. “I thought you might learn something.”