The feng shui man from the previous day was sitting cross-legged again among the files on Li’s desk, examining a large sheet of paper held open in front of him. He looked up at Li and smiled. “Much better. You like it?” He held out the sheet of paper. “My plan. Ve-ery good feng shui.” He smiled at the walls. “Yellow. The colour of the sun. The colour of life. This will uplift your spirit and stimulate your ch’i. You feel good, you work better.” He grinned, revealing his bad teeth. “Your men are very good. They move furniture ve-ery quickly.”

Li was incredulous. “You used my detectives to move the furniture?” Behind him, he heard the unrestrained mirth of his detectives. He looked at the fish tank, and the array of plants. “Who’s paying for all this?”

“Your uncle tells me, spare no expense. I think he is very fond of you.”

Li grew hot with anger. He looked at the painter, who was listening in with interest. “You,” he said. “Out.”

“But I haven’t finished yet,” the painter protested.

“I don’t care. Get your blankets off my floor, take your paint and your ladders, and go. This is a working office, and I am in the middle of a murder investigation.”

“But once it’s dried, I’ll never be able to match the joins.” The painter saw Li’s eyes widen with fury. “Okay, okay. I’m out of here.” He scrambled down the ladder and began clearing his stuff.

Li took the old man by the arm and invited him to get down off his desk. “Tell my uncle thank you very much,” he said, struggling to keep his anger under control. “But I have to work now, so you’ll have to go.”

“I’ll send the painter back on the weekend,” said the feng shui man.

Li drew breath sharply and clenched his fists at his side. “Just go.”

“Okay,” the feng shui man said. He looked around the office, and nodded, satisfied. “You feel mu-uch better now.”

And the crowd of detectives at the door parted, like the Red Sea, to let him through. Margaret stood smiling just inside the office. She might not have understood a single word, but she knew exactly what had transpired. The painter rattled his ladders, lifted his paint pot, and hurried out after the feng shui man. Li glared at the faces gathered round the door. “What are you lot looking at?”

Wu said, “Nothing, boss.” He cast an appraising eye around the room, nodding his approval. “Bi-ig improvement.” There was a splutter of laughter among the others.