complaint, and the guard at the front door of the building would be given orders to keep me out. He wouldn’t try very hard, but I didn’t need the extra hassle.

“On second thought, Miss Ban, let’s just say I’m drawn to you. Let’s just say I’m lonely, and you’re lonely, and it’s warm in here. Can I come in and share the warmth? Is that a problem?”

“Nothing personal, Inspector,” she said and shut the door. I thought she might open it again, but she didn’t. It was uncomfortable standing in the corridor, too similar to the meat lockers I had to visit during one investigation of a butcher who dealt in counterfeit loin. I normally don’t wear my hat inside of buildings, but this corridor was testing the limits. I tried the handle, but it was locked. I thought of kicking the door in, but the amount of explaining and hours of meetings that would result from a complaint about destroying part of the Foreign Ministry building were more than I wanted to endure, much less Pak’s looks of disbelief each time he glanced in my office over the next few months. Besides, she didn’t look like a woman who was impressed by a man who kicked in doors.

I knocked once. “I’ll be back, darling.” I figured the last word would rocket the others along the corridor up from their desks, ears against their doors. There was a short, throaty laugh from inside, the sort of laugh a woman of Miss Ban’s frame supports easily. When I got back to the liaison man’s office, he was gone. So was the heater.

“He’s out. Visitors from afar,” a man said as he walked past me and into the next room. After a moment, he reappeared. “That one”—he pointed at the liaison man’s door—“has a heater.” He looked in the room. “He must have taken it, but he has one. It sucks electricity all day long.”

“You trying to tell me something?”

“He’s not supposed to have it, is he?”

“What makes you think I’m interested?”

“Nothing.” The man’s face was gaunt. “Nobody is interested in anything anymore. So, good, we’ll all freeze to death, everyone but him, if we don’t starve first.” He looked at me closely, his eyes ablaze with something, not fear exactly. I couldn’t tell whether he wanted to take back the words, or be assured that I had heard him.

“You have a family?”

He nodded.

“Then don’t talk crazy,” I said. “When some people get too cold, they become crazed; the words that come from their mouths become crazy. Remember that.”

He put his hand to his forehead, a gesture of despair, and waited. “What next?”

I knew right then, he would not live out the winter. At this point it was a matter of will with a lot of people. His was gone, which saddened me for some reason. I didn’t know him, but I didn’t want him to give up. “Those with heaters will sit in front of them and curse every time the power goes out. Those of us without heaters won’t notice the difference,” I said. He didn’t reply, but he didn’t walk away, so I figured he wanted the company. “You know Miss Ban, upstairs?”

“Only her tread. I don’t go up there,” he said absently.

“You have your own office?” I pointed at his door.

“No, this one is for a team, but everyone else …”

“They’ve left.”

He shrugged.

“But you stayed.”

“They say it’s an arduous march; all I do is sit in the dark. I won’t get a medal for that.”

“I don’t suppose you’ve ever been to Pakistan? Served there? Made a trip?” Might as well start with the biggest shot in the dark and work backward.

“No. What’s it to you?”

“Where have you been, then? I’m interested in leading a tour group.”

“You ask a lot of questions.” At least he could still fight back; maybe it would be enough motivation to stay alive, if he decided to fight.

“A question machine, that’s me. I keep asking until I get an answer. Could be the switch is stuck or a connection is loose.” Once again he didn’t respond, but there was something new, an alertness that had been drained from him only a moment ago. “Where did you serve?” I decided to see how far the conversation would go.

“Middle East. Craziness. Libya. The man’s a nut, as far as I can tell.”

“You put that in a reporting cable, I suppose. Such forthrightness is much appreciated in this building, I hear.”

“Reporting wasn’t my job.” He smiled, finally,