only supposed to keep you safe, and that means my main concern is that you don’t slip on the sidewalk and break your arm. Watch where you’re walking.”

“Is there a place we can stop to get something warm?”

“As long as we keep moving, you won’t freeze solid. I’ll have you back in the hotel in twenty minutes, unless you plan to make a long speech.”

“In other circumstances, Inspector, I might have taken my time edging into what I need to say to you. I would have stroked your ego, appealed to your manhood, perhaps. Then I might have looked for some vulnerability, found a way to snap your psychic spine.”

“But you’ve decided not to.”

“No, the temperature has given me no choice. I have to get straight to the point.”

“Suddenly, I’m doubly not interested. Forget it. Whatever you are going to suggest, forget it.”

He shook his head. “Listen closely. I need your assistance, and in return, you can have whatever you want.”

“You’re not serious. Only yesterday I told some fool that when it gets cold, people talk crazy. I thought I was making that up, but maybe it’s true.”

“I’m not trying to recruit you, Inspector. I’m not asking you to betray your country.”

“Then why couldn’t we stay in the hotel for this?”

“I don’t want your brother agencies to know, that’s all. There are people trying to prevent me from getting my work done. Some people want me to succeed. Some people don’t.”

“The latter group seems to be on top; tough for you. It’s nothing that concerns me.”

“Quite the contrary. You don’t live in a bubble. Lots of things concern you, even if you know nothing about them.”

I stopped. “Look at that line of trees over there, look at the tops, what do you see?”

“Let’s keep moving. We’re not talking about trees.”

“You may not think so. What do you see?”

“The tops are even.”

“Good. Now, look at the trunks, what do you see?”

“Inspector, I’m freezing out here. Can we get to the point?”

“The trunks, what do you see?”

He sighed heavily. “Some of them are on small mounds, some are on the ground, but the tops are all still even. Are we done with this?”

“Even, you say. None too short, none too tall. Now, let’s move closer. What do you see?”

“The tops aren’t even any more. Can we please go inside? I value my extremities. I’d like to keep all of my fingers.” He looked at me oddly, but I pretended not to notice.

“Nice illusion, isn’t it? The tops aren’t actually even. You can see that with your eyes, but your brain insists on creating a sense of order where none exists. It’s an illusion. What you see, and what is there—not the same.”

“Have you ever seen pictures of those frozen mammoths in Siberia, Inspector? This is what they must have gone through in their final, excruciating moments. Listening to police-mammoths lecture until they turned to ice blocks.”

“Ever since I was small, I noticed the illusion that trees gave, or rather that my eyes did. Things look uniform, only they aren’t. We have a need to see uniformity, so we do. Eventually, I began to wonder if reality was someplace other than where I was. Ever have that feeling?”

“I have no feeling left. I think my lungs have begun to ice up.”

“No, that doesn’t happen for at least another ten minutes, don’t worry. If you breathe through your nostrils, it might delay things a few minutes beyond that. In your case”—I looked at his nose—“maybe a little longer.”

He groaned audibly. “I think I’m dying.”

“The first time I can remember sitting on a train, staring out the window, I watched a farmer walk beside an oxcart along the edge of a field. The ox was plodding, the two of them barely moving. It confused me. The farmer was in sight for a few seconds, and then he was gone. Whose was the reality? His? Mine? Did he disappear? Or did I? Was he still there? Was I? I have that same feeling right now with you. If I look away, maybe you will disappear and not be there when I turn back.”

“This is truly stunning, Inspector. How did I get mixed up with the only North Korean alive who imagines he is Spinoza? Stop worrying with metaphysical oxen. Pay more attention to the temperature.”

“Don’t you ever wonder about reality?”

“Yes! No! Who gives a damn about reality? We have to get out of this cold.” I didn’t move. “Do you know what absolute zero is, Inspector?