“Yes.”

“And…” Field felt his stomach tense. He wanted to shut out the image of her and Lu, and yet he desperately needed to know.

“I begin. I take my clothes off.”

“What do you wear?” he asked, no longer trusting his voice.

“Does it matter?” Her voice was sharp.

“It might.” He swallowed hard. “Lena was handcuffed to the bed, wearing stockings and a garter belt. Has he ever used handcuffs, or asked you to wear anything in particular, anything like that?”

Natasha shook her head.

“And when you have done that?”

“It’s all right, Richard.”

Unconsciously, he was tensing up again. He fought the urge to stand and punch the window. “And when you are finished?” he asked with exaggerated care.

She shrugged. “I pick up my clothes, and there is a dressing room. I put on my clothes and leave by a side door, back into the hall and down the stairs, past the bodyguards.”

“They are-”

“They think I’m a whore.” She put her hand to her mouth and started to bite one of her fingernails. Visibly upset, she turned to face the window and crossed her arms protectively across her chest.

“And Lu-what does he do? Where is he when…” Field cleared his throat. “Where is he when you come into the bedroom?”

“He is lying on the bed in a silk dressing gown.”

“Fully dressed?”

“He has a dressing gown on.” She shrugged. “There is an opium pipe beside him and his eyes are glazed.”

“But he is looking at you?”

“Please stop it, Richard.”

“He watches?”

“Yes.”

“But he never touches you? He never beckons you over to him?”

“I would never…” Her fist was bunched now, her face screwed up with pain. “Whatever you think, I would never…”

Field leaned back again, breathing out heavily.

“You think I have a choice,” she said. “About him, about my life. You think I have a choice.”

“And it hurts you that I think that?”

She did not answer.

Field fought to believe her. She only took her clothes off. There was nothing more involved. “Lena hid those notes for someone,” he said. “The ones we showed you.”

Natasha didn’t react.

“Did she leave them for you?”

Natasha shook her head but without meeting his eyes. Field thought there was a hint of color in her cheek.

“She discussed the notes with you.”

Natasha looked at him. “I don’t know anything about it.”

Field did not want to accuse her of lying, though he was certain that she was. “The notes refer to a second ledger,” he said. “Lu keeps a complete record of all his accounts, including transactions, payments, and shipments, somewhere in the private quarters of his house.”

“I do not know.”

“Have you ever seen anything like a ledger-probably a series of them? Does he have a study? They must be somewhere Lena could get to them. Have you ever seen ledgers that could be accounting books anywhere near his bedroom?”

“No.”

“Nowhere in the house?”

Natasha shook her head, but the more she denied knowledge of the ledgers, the more certain he was that she knew exactly what he was talking about.

“Did Lena ever talk about them?”

“No.” Natasha stared at him. “When I go there, this is what you want?”

Field leaned closer. “I would like you to establish that these books exist and find out where they are kept.”

Her face betrayed nothing. “This is what you want me to do?”

“Yes.”

“When I go, this is what you want me to do?”

“Yes.”

She tilted her head. “If I am seen, then I will be executed, of course.”

Field didn’t answer.

Natasha sighed. “So this is why you slept with me?”

“Natasha, I-”

“You are a hard man. Perhaps like your father.”

“I don’t have a choice. And nor do you. My superiors will send you to prison if you don’t cooperate. It will be out of my hands.”

She stared at him. “So when I am vulnerable, you seek to punish me.”

Field shook his head.

“You have caught me in your net and you will watch me until I die.”

“I-”

“I hope you enjoy it, Richard.”

“It is not my decision.”

“A coward blames others for the work that he does.” Natasha shook her head. “I’m glad I was able to give you something before-”

“It’s not for them.”

“Not for who?”

Field stared at her. “What kind of life are you going to have?”

She frowned. “I do not understand.”

“It has nothing to do with my superiors. I want to break you free of Lu and this is the only way I know how.”

She shook her head, still frowning.

“He has overreached himself. He has the fatal weakness of a man who believes he cannot be touched. He has forgotten that the international powers still control this city. He can be broken.”

Natasha gazed out the window, a look of utter hopelessness in her eyes.

“What life will you have if you do not try?” he asked.

“It’s not about my life…”

“I’m asking you to trust me.”

She snorted, quietly but with derision.

“Can you speak and read Chinese?” he asked.

“Of course.” She looked at him. “Who knows about this?”

“A very small group of people.”

“And you trust them?”

“Yes,” Field said without hesitation. “Completely.”

“You shouldn’t. Everyone is corrupt here.”

“I’m not.”

“You’re young.”

“So are you.”

She didn’t answer.

“Parts of the force are corrupt, but not the unit that I’m dealing with.” Field pulled up his chair and leaned onto the table. “We believe Lu has overreached himself. He has become complacent and Lena’s murder was a challenge to the integrity of the force. We know we can break his hold on the city. I can take you away from here. When this is done.”

“When it is done?”

“When this is done,” he went on, “we will go away, somewhere better.”

“To Venice, perhaps.”

He hesitated, not sure whether she was mocking him. “If you like.”

“As a little girl, I dreamed of Venice.” She looked up at him. “Have you been to Venice, Richard?”

Field shook his head. “No.”

“Would you like to go?”

“Yes. My…”

She waited for him to go on.

“My sister also. It was a dream.”

“Then she is a romantic, too.” Natasha’s smile was fragile and hesitant. “What is it like, do you think?”

“My sister loved art. Florence, Venice. Even the thought of it was an escape. The idea of it.” He stared out of the window. “It was how we imagined life if money was no object: long hot days and hazy, languid sunsets over still water and the shouts of the boatmen.” When he turned back, Field saw the deep longing in her eyes.

“You would like to live in Venice?” she asked.

“I would like to live in Venice.”

“We could live there together.”

As she smiled at him, he tried to stop his stomach from somersaulting again.

“We could sleep in late and then have wine in the piazza-it is the right word?”

“It’s the right word.”

“And we could watch the sunset over the lagoon and then lie out and watch the stars.”

Field didn’t know what to say.

“Mama and Papa took their honeymoon in Venice. Papa was at military school in St. Petersburg and Mama only a schoolgirl; they met and married one month later and then went to Venice.” She looked at him. “Papa always talked of it. He used to take out photographs of the lagoon, and one of Mama, and there would be tears in his eyes. He told me how they had planned to go back, one last time, even as she was dying.” Natasha shook her head, tears in her own eyes.

Field reached for her hand, but she withdrew it.

“What do you dream of, Richard?”

He looked at her. “I dream of you.”

She stared at the table in front of her. “Then it must remain a dream.”

“Natasha…”

“My life is not my own.”

“There must be-”

“An escape?” She stared at him. “Don’t you think I have tried?”

“Dreams are what keep us alive.”