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‘And just as inadmissible in court as a polygraph,’ Li said. ‘So what’ll happen if your funding gets cancelled?’

‘I’m going to have to go back to the States to look for work.’

‘And would Lyang be happy to do that?’

Hart pulled a face. ‘I haven’t told her yet, Li Yan. I figure there’s no point in worrying about it until it happens.’ He paused. ‘But, no, she wouldn’t be happy.’

They came down the final flight of steps into the entrance lobby. Hart shook Li’s hand. ‘Thanks for coming,’ he said. ‘And, hey, listen, why don’t you bring Margaret round for dinner some night? I get the feeling that she and Lyang might get on pretty well.’

‘I’ll mention it to her,’ Li said.

‘Well, what about tonight?’

Li shrugged apologetically. ‘I’ve got an appointment I can’t get out of.’ There was a hint of embarrassment in his smile.

Hart remembered suddenly. ‘Of course, it’s your award thing tonight at the Great Hall. I read about that in the paper the other day. You must be very proud.’

Li forced a smile. ‘Sure,’ he said.

As he pushed out through the swing door Hart called after him, ‘Don’t forget to ask Margaret about dinner?’

Li waved a hand and was gone, out into the cold afternoon air. He pulled up his coat collar and turned south towards Fuxingmenwai Avenue. A car horn blasting from across the street drew his attention, and he looked round as a large black Ministry limo made a u-turn and drew in at the kerb alongside him. A door opened, and as he leaned down, he saw Commissioner Zhu and Deputy Cao sitting in the back seat. ‘Get in, Li,’ the Commissioner told him. Li slipped into the front passenger seat beside the uniformed driver. ‘Do you have a car with you?’ asked the Commissioner. Li shook his head.

‘In the name of the sky, Li, you didn’t come on your bicycle?’ Deputy Cao regarded him with something akin to contempt.

‘No, I didn’t, Deputy Cao,’ Li said.

The Commissioner tapped the driver on the shoulder. ‘Section One,’ he said. And to Li, ‘We’ll give you a lift back, and you can brief us on the Beijing Ripper.’ Li’s surprise must have been evident in his face, because it made the Commissioner smile. A smug smile, Li thought. ‘Don’t be so shocked, Li. There isn’t much goes on in your Section that I don’t get to hear about.’

‘Why didn’t you mention it upstairs?’ Deputy Cao asked.

‘I didn’t think it was appropriate. Not in front of the Deputy Minister and the Procurator General,’ Li said.

‘So tell us,’ the Commissioner said, ‘what makes you think these killings are a copycat of the Jack the Ripper murders?’

Li pulled the book from his pocket and handed it into the back of the car. ‘Just published in China. A translation from the English original. It details all the killings attributed to the Ripper. The killings here in Beijing are like a carbon copy, even down to the smallest detail.’

‘Like?’ demanded Deputy Cao.

‘Like the contents of her purse being arranged around the feet of victim number three … the removal of her uterus and parts of her vagina and bladder. Like the missing left kidney and the womb in victim number four. And dozens of other small details, even down to the number of stab wounds in victim number one.’ The Commissioner was still examining the Ripper book. Li went on, ‘Then there’s the fact that our murderer only kills on the weekends, and that all the victims have been found within the same square mile of the city.’

The Commissioner passed the book to Deputy Cao. ‘It is him,’ he said.

Li frowned. ‘It is who?’

‘Thomas Dowman,’ said Deputy Cao. ‘The author of the book. We met him when he came to Beijing a couple of years ago.’

‘I heard he gave a lecture on the Ripper,’ Li said.

‘That’s right,’ said the Commissioner. ‘Deputy Cao and I were both there. Almost every senior officer at the Ministry was. A fascinating profile of an unfathomable murderer. Mister Dowman certainly knows his stuff.’

‘And so does someone else,’ said Li.

The Commissioner leaned forward, grasping the back of Li’s seat. ‘Let’s keep this within the department for the moment, Li. We don’t want the press getting wind of it.’

‘That’s hardly likely,’ Li said.

‘There are journalists in this city who don’t know where to draw the line any more,’ Deputy Cao said ominously. ‘With the Olympics coming in 2008, the government has been …’ he hesitated, searching for the right words, ‘… overkeen, shall we say, to show the world what an open society we have become. There are those in the media who are taking advantage.’

‘And it’s not just a matter of creating public panic,’ Commissioner Zhu said. ‘That would be bad enough. You only have to look at how press coverage of the Washington sniper last year just about paralysed the US capital.’

‘It’s a political matter, Li,’ Cao said. ‘You can imagine the coverage such a story would generate around the world. Not exactly the image of Beijing that the government wants to promote ahead of the Olympics.’

‘So let’s keep it nice and quiet, Section Chief,’ the Commissioner said. He lit a cigarette and blew smoke into the front of the limo. ‘I want detailed progress reports on my desk. Daily. I am not going to preside over a police department which permits some lunatic to rerun the Ripper murders from first to last.’ He paused. ‘Get him, Section Chief Li, before he kills again.’ As if Li needed to be told.

Chapter Four

I

The chatter of computer keyboards, like cicadas, filled the air as Li strode along the top floor corridor of Section One. Voices and cigarette smoke drifted out of the open door of the detectives’ room. ‘Wu! Qian!’ he shouted as he stalked past, but didn’t wait for a response. At the next door along he turned left into his own office and looked at the piles of paperwork gathering in drifts on his desk. A veritable paper blizzard. Reports from all the detectives working on the case, reports from forensics and pathology on each of the murders. Reports from headquarters on all manner of internal affairs in which he had absolutely no interest. The day’s mail, which he had not yet had an opportunity to open, was piled up in a wire tray. He hung his coat on the stand and slumped into his chair, letting his eyes close as it reclined. He could not bear an untidy desk. Somehow it cluttered his mind, fogged his thinking.

‘Chief?’ Qian’s voice from the door made him open his eyes. He sat up. Wu was hovering at Qian’s shoulder.

‘Qian, the Commissioner has asked for daily progress reports on the Ripper murders. I want you to take care of them.’ He could see Qian’s shoulders slump, but it wasn’t something he could afford to get bogged down with himself.

‘Yes, Chief.’

Wu said, ‘I checked out the publication date of the Ripper book. It’s been on the shelves here for less than a week, Chief.’

Li reached for the mail and started absently opening envelopes and consigning their contents either to the bin or to the pile on his desk. ‘So it wasn’t the appearance of the book which sparked off the killings,’ he said. ‘Given that the first killing was five weeks ago.’ He paused to think about it for a moment. ‘See if you can track down a telephone number, or even an e-mail address for the author. It might be useful if we could speak to him.’

‘Sure, Chief.’

Li screwed up some departmental circular and threw it in the bin. ‘And something else.’ He fixed them both with a look they knew well. ‘Someone in this section is feeding information to headquarters. Specifically the Commissioner’s office.’

Qian was shocked. ‘What, one of our people, Chief?’

‘One of our people, Qian. I don’t know who it is. I don’t want to know who it is. But it might be worth circulating the thought among the team, that if I ever find out, he can kiss his career goodbye, along with his testicles. I decide what information leaves this building, and what stays within its walls. Is that clear?’