Smyth's right again, he thought without bitterness, the bastards know everything and it'd be so easy to find out what debts I have. So am I going to take it or not?

"Only forty?" he asked with a twisted smile.

"I imagine that's enough to cover your most pressing problem," Smyth said with the same hard eyes. "Isn't it?"

Armstrong was not angry that the Snake knew so much about his private life. I know just as much about his, though not how much he has or where it's stacked away. But it'd be easy to find out, easy to break him if I wanted to. Very easy. "Thanks for the coffee. Best I've had in years. Shall we go?"

Awkwardly, Smyth put on his regulation raincoat over his well- cut uniform, adjusted the sling for his arm and put his cap to the usual jaunty angle and led the way. As they went, Armstrong made Wu repeat what had happened and what had been said by the youth who claimed to be one of the Werewolves and later by the old amah "Very good, Wu," Armstrong said when the young man had finished. "An excellent piece of surveillance and investigation. Excellent. Chief Inspector Smyth tells me you want to get into SI?"

"Yes sir."

"Why?"

"It's important, an important branch of SB, sir. I've always been interested in security and how to keep our enemies out and the Colony safe and I feel it would be very interesting and important. I'd like to help if I could, sir."

Momentarily their ears focused on the distant wail of fire engines that came from the hillside above.

"Some stupid bastard's kicked over another stove," Smyth said sourly. "Christ, thank God for the rain!"

"Yes," Armstrong said, then added to Wu, "If this turns out as you've reported, I'll put in a word with SB or SI."

Spectacles Wu could not stop the beam. "Yes sir, thank you, sir. Ah Tam is really from my village. Yes sir."

They turned into the alley. Crowds of shoppers and stall keepers and shopkeepers under umbrellas or under the canvas overhangs watched them sullenly and suspiciously, Smyth the most well known and feared quad lob in Aberdeen.

"That's the one, sir," Wu whispered. By prearrangement Smyth casually stopped at a stall, this side of the doorway, ostensibly to look at some vegetables, the owner at once in shock. Armstrong and Wu walked past the entrance then turned abruptly and the three of them converged. They went up the stairs quickly as two uniformed policemen who had been trailing from a safe distance materialized to bottle up the front. Once the narrow passageway was secure one of them hurried up an even smaller alley and around the back to make sure the plainclothes detective was still in position guarding the single exit there, then he rushed back to reinforce the undermanned barricades in front of the Victoria.

The inside of the tenement was as dingy and filthy as the outside with mess and debris on every landing. Smyth was leading and he stopped on the third landing, unbuttoned his revolver holster and stepped aside. Without hesitation Armstrong leaned against the flimsy door, burst the lock and went in quickly. Smyth followed at once, Spectacles Wu nervously staying to guard the entrance. The room was drab with old sofas and old chairs and old grimy curtains, the sweet-rank smell of opium and cooking oil on the air. A heavyset, middle-aged matron gaped at them and dropped her newspaper. Both men went for the inner doors. Smyth pulled one open to find a scruffy bedroom, the next revealed a messy toilet and bathroom, a third another bedroom crammed with unmade bunks for four. Armstrong had the last door open. It let into a cluttered, filthy, tiny kitchen, where Ah Tam bent over a pile of wash in the grimy sink. She stared at him blankly. Behind her was another door. At once he shoved past and jerked it open. It was empty too, more of a closet than a room, windowless with a vent cut in the wall and just enough space to fit the small string mattressless bunk and a broken-down chest of drawers.

He came back into the living room, Ah Tam shuffling after him, his breathing good and his heart settling down. It had taken them only seconds and Smyth took out the papers and said sweetly, "Sorry to interrupt, madam, but we've a search warrant."

"Wat?"

"Translate for us, Wu," Smyth ordered and at once the young constable repeated what had been said and, as previously arranged, began to act as though he was the interpreter for two dullard quad lob policemen who did not speak Cantonese.

The woman's mouth dropped open. "Search!" she shrieked. "Search what? We obey the law here! My husband works for the government and has important friends and if you're looking for the ga'mbling school it's nothing to do with us but it's on the fourth floor at the back and we know nothing about the smelly whores in 16 who set up shop and work till all hours making the rest of us civ"

"Enough," Wu said sharply, "we are police on important matters! These Lords of the police are important! You're the wife of Ch'ung the dustman?"

"Yes," she replied sullenly. "What do you want with us? We've done noth"

"Enough!" Armstrong interrupted in English with deliberate ar- rogance. "Is that Ah Tam?"

"You! You're Ah Tam?"

"Eh, me? Wat?" The old amah tugged at her apron nervously, not recognizing Wu.

"So you're Ah Tam! You're under arrest."

Ah Tam went white and the middle-aged woman cursed and said in a rush, "Ah! So it's you they're after! Huh, we know nothing about her except we picked her off the street a few months ago and gave her a home and sal"

"Wu, tell her to shut up!"

He told her impolitely. She obeyed even more sullenly. "These Lords want to know is there anyone else here?"

"Of course there isn't. Are they blind? Haven't they raped my house like assassins and seen for themselves?" the shrew said truculently. "I know nothing about nothing."

"Ah Tam! These Lords want to know where your room is."

The amah found her voice and began to bluster, "What do you want with me, Honorable Policeman? I've done nothing, I'm not an illegal, I've papers since last year. I've done nothing, I'm a lawabiding civilized person who's worked all her li"

"Where's your room?"

The younger woman pointed. "There," she said in her screeching, irritating voice, "where else would her room be? Of course it's there off the kitchen! Are these foreign devils senseless? Where else do maids live? And you, you old maggot! Getting honest people into trouble! What's she done? If it's stolen vegetables it's nothing to do with me!"

"Quiet or we shall take you to our headquarters and surely the judge will want you kept in custody! Quiet!"

The woman started to curse but bit it back.

Armstrong said, "Now, whata" Then he noticed that several curious Chinese were peering into the room from the landing. He stared back, took a sudden pace toward them. They vanished. He closed the door, hiding his amusement. "Now, ask both of them what they know about the Werewolves."

The woman gaped at Wu. Ah Tam went a little grayer. "Eh, me? Werewolves? Nothing! Why should I know about those foul kidnappers. What have they to do with me? Nothing nothing at all!"

"What about you, Ah Tam?"

"Me? Nothing at all," she said querulously, "I'm a respectable amah who does her work and nothing else!"

Wu translated their answers. Both men noticed that his translation was accurate, fast and easy. Both were patient and they continued to play the game they had played so many times before. "Tell her she'd better tell the truth quickly." Armstrong glowered down at her. He bore her no ill feeling; neither did Smyth. They just wanted the truth. The truth might lead to the identity of the Werewolves and the sooner those villains were hung for murder the easier it would be to control Hong Kong and the sooner law-abiding citizens, including themselves, could go about their own business or hobbies making money or racing or whoring. Yes, Armstrong thought, sorry for the old woman. Twenty dollars to a broken hatpin the shrew knows nothing but Ah Tam knows more than she'll ever tell us.

"I want the truth. Tell her!" he said.

"Truth? What truth, Honorable Lord? How could this poor old body be anyth"

Armstrong put up his hand dramatically. "Enough!" This was another prearranged signal. At once Spectacles Wu switched to Ning-tok dialect which he knew neither of them understood. "Elder Sister, I suggest you talk quickly and openly. We know everything alreadyI"

Ah Tam gaped at him. She had only two twisted teeth in a lower gum. "Eh, Younger Brother?" she replied in the same dialect, caught off guard. "What do you want with me?"

"The truth! I know all about you!"

She peered at him without recognition. "What truth? I've never seen you before in my life!"

"Don't you remember me? In the poultry market? You helped me buy a chicken and then we had tea. Yesterday. Don't you remember? You told me about the Werewolves, how they were going to give you a huge rewarda"

All three saw the momentary flash behind her eyes. "Were- wolves?" she began querulously. "Impossible! It was someone else! You accuse me falsely. Tell the Noble Lords I've never seen y"

"Quiet you old baggage!" Wu said sharply and cursed her roundly. "You worked for Wu Ting-top and your mistress's name was Fan-ling and she died three years ago and they owned the pharmacy at the crossroads! I know the place well myself!"

"Liesa liesa"

"She says it's all lies, sir."

"Good. Tell her we'll take her to the station. She'll talk there."

Ah Tam began shaking. "Torture? You'll torture an old woman? Oh oh oha"

"When does this Werewolf come back? This afternoon?"

"Oh oh oha I don't knowa he said he would see me but the thief never came back. I lent him five dollars to get home an"

"Where was his home?"

"Eh? Who? Oh him, hea he said he was a relation of a relation anda I don't remember. I think he said North Pointa I don't remember anythinga"

Armstrong and Smyth waited and probed and soon it was apparent that the old woman knew little though she ducked and twisted the probing, her lies becoming ever more flowery.

"We'll take her in anyway," Armstrong said.

Smyth nodded. "Can you handle it till I can send a couple of men? I really think I ought to be getting back."

"Certainly. Thanks."

He left. Armstrong told Wu to order the two women to sit down and be silent while he searched. They obeyed, frightened. He went into the kitchen and closed the door. At once Ah Tam pulled at her long rally queue. "Young Brother," she whispered slyly, knowing her mistress did not understand Ning-tok, "I'm guilty of nothing. I just met that young devil like I met you. I did nothing. People of the same village should stick together, heya? A handsome man like you needs money for girls or his wife. Are you married, Honorable Younger Brother?"

"No, Elder Sister," Wu said politely, leading her on as he had been told to do.

Armstrong was standing in the doorway of Ah Tam's tiny bedroom and he wondered for the millionth time why it was that Chinese treated their servants so badly, why servants would work in such miserable and foul conditions, why they would sleep and live and give loyal service for a lifetime in return for a pittance, little respect and no love.

He remembered asking his teacher. The old policeman had said "I don't know, laddie, but I think it's because they becomefamily. Usually it's a job for life. Usually their own family becomes part also. The servant belongs, and the how chew, the good points of the job are many. It goes without saying all servants cream off a proportion of all housekeeping money, all foods, all drinks, all cleaning materials, all everything, however rich or poor, of course with the employers' full knowledge and approval providing it's kept to the customary level how else can he pay them so little if they can't make extra on the side?"

Maybe that's the answer, Armstrong thought. It's true that before a Chinese takes a job, any job, he or she will have considered the how chew of the job very carefully indeed, the value of the how chew always being the deciding factor.

The room stank and he tried to close his nose to the smell. Sprays of rainwater were coming through the vent, the sound of the rain still pelting down, the whole wall mildewed and water-stained from a thousand storms. He searched methodically and carefully, all his senses tuned. There was little space to hide anything. The bed and bedding were relatively clean though there were many bedbugs in the corners of the bunk. Nothing under the bed but a chipped and stinking chamber pot and an empty suitcase. A few old bags and a tote bag produced nothing. The chest of drawers contained a few clothes, some cheap jewelry, a poor quality jade bracelet. Hidden under some clothes was an embroidered handbag of much better quality. In it were some old letters. A news cutting. And two photographs.

His heart seemed to stop.

After a moment he went into the better light of the kitchen and peered at the photographs again but he had not been mistaken. He read the news cutting, his mind reeling. There was a date on the cutting and a date on one of the photographs.

In the honeycombed basement of Police Headquarters, Ah Tam sat on a hard, backless chair in the center of a large soundproofed room that was brightly lit and painted white, white walls and white ceiling and white floors and a single, flush white door that was almost part of the wall. Even the chair was white. She was alone, petrified, and she was talking freely now.

"Now what do you know about the barbarian in the background of the photograph?" Wu's flat, metallic Ning-tok voice asked from a hidden speaker.

"I've told and told and there isn'ta I don't know, Lord," she whimpered. "I want to go homea I've told you, I barely saw the foreign devila he only visited us this once that I know of, Lorda I don't remember, it was years ago, oh can I go now I've told you everything, everythinga"

Armstrong was watching her through the one-sided mirror in the darkened observation room, Wu beside him. Both men were setfaced and ill-at-ease. Sweat beaded Wu's forehead even though the room was pleasantly air conditioned. A tape recorder turned noise- lessly. There were microphones and a bank of electronic equipment behind them.

"I think she's told us everything we need," Armstrong said, sorry for her.

"Yes sir." Wu kept his nervousness out of his voice. This was the first time that he had ever been part of an SI interrogation. He was frightened and excited and his head ached.

"Ask her again where she got the purse."

Wu did as he was ordered. His voice was calm and authoritative.

"But I've told you again and again," the old woman whimpered. "Please can I g"

"Tell us again and then you can go."

"All righta all righta I'll tell you againa It belonged to my Mistress who gave it to me on her deathbed, she gave it to me, I swear it and"

"The last time you said it was given to you the day before she died. Now which is the truth?"

Anxiously Ah Tam plucked at her ratty queue. "Ia I don't remember, Lord. It was on hera it was when she dieda I don't remember." The old~woman's mouth worked and no sound came out and then said in a querulous rush, "I took it and hid it after she died and there were those old photosa I've no picture of my Mistress so I took them too and there was one tael of silver too and this paid for part of my journey to Hong Kong during the famine. I took it because none of her rotten sons or daughters or family who hated her and hated me would give me anything so I took it when no one wasa she gave it to me before she died and I just hid it it's mine, she gave it to mea"

They listened while the old woman went on and on and they let her talk herself out. The wall clock read 1:45. They had been questioning her for half an hour. "That's enough for now, Wu. We'll repeat it in three hours just for safety but I think she's told us everything." Wearily Armstrong picked up a phone, dialed. "Armstrong ~ you can take her back to her cell now," he said into the phone. "Make sure she's comfortable and well looked after and have the doctor reexamine her." It was normal SI procedure to give prisoners an examination before and after each interrogation. The doctor had said that Ah Tam had the heart and the blood pressure of a twenty-year-old.

In a moment they saw the white, almost hidden door open. A uniformed SI policewoman beckoned Ah Tam kindly. Ah Tam hobbled out. Armstrong dipped the lights, switched the tape recorder to rewind. Wu mopped his brow.

"You did very well, Wu. You learn quickly."

"Thank you, sir."

The high-pitched whine of the tape recorder grew. Armstrong watched it silently, still in shock. The sound ceased and the big man took the reel out of the machine. "We always mark the date, exact time and exact duration of the interrogation and use a code name for the suspect. For safety and secrecy." He looked up a number in a book, marked the tape, then began to make out a form. "We cross-check with this form. We sign it as interrogators and put Ah Tam's code down her~V-11-3. This's top secret and filed in the safe." His eyes became very hard. Wu almost quailed. "I repeat: You'd better believe that a closed mouth catches no flies and that everything in SI, everything that you have been party to today is top secret."

"Yes sir. Yes, you can count on me, sir."

"You'd better also remember that SI's a law unto itself, the governor and the minister in London. Only. Good old English law and fair play and normal police codes do not apply to SB or SI - habeas corpus, open trials and appeal. In an SI case there's no trial, no appeal and it's a deportation order to the PRC or Taiwan, whichever worse. Understand?"

"Yes sir. I want to be part of SI, sir, so you can believe me. I'm not one to slake my thirst on poison," Wu assured him, sick with hope.

"Good. For the next few days you're confined to this HQ."

Wu's mouth dropped open. "But sir, mya yes sir."

Armstrong led the way out and locked the door after him. He gave the key and the form to an Sl agent who was on guard at the main desk. "I'll keep the reel for the moment. I've signed the receipt."

"Yes sir."

"You'll take care of Constable Wu? He's our guest for a couple of days. Start getting his particulars he's been very very very helpful. I'm recommending him for Sl."

"Yes sir."

He left them and went to the elevator and got out on his floor, a sick-sweet-sour taste of apprehension in his mouth. Sl interrogations were anathema to him. He hated them though they were fast, efficient and always obtained results. He preferred to have an oldfashioned battle of wits, to use patience and not these new, modern psychological tools. "It's all bloody dangerous if you ask me," he muttered, walking along his corridor, the faint musty smell of headquarters in his nostrils, hating Crosse and Sl and everything it stood for, hating the knowledge he had unearthed. His door was open. "Oh hi, Brian," he said, closing it, his face grim. Brian Kwok had his feet up on the desk and was idly reading one of the Communist Chinese morning papers, the windows rain-streaked behind him. "What's new?"

"There's quite a big piece on Iran," his friend said, engrossed in what he was reading. "It says 'capitalist CIA overlords in conjunction with the tyrant Shah have put down a people's revolutionary war in Azerbaijan, thousands have beer; killed' and so on. I don't believe all that but it looks as though the CIA and the Ninetysecond Airborne have defused that area and the Yanks have done right for once."

"Lot of bloody good that'll do!"

Brian Kwok looked up. His smile faded. "What's up?"