Necropolis

all sorts of fascinating markets for you to explore. And you must go up to The Peak. Also, I have something for you."
    He went over to the desk and opened a drawer. When he came back, he was holding a white cardboard box. "It's a small gift," he explained. "By way of an apology."
    He handed the box over and she opened it. Inside, on a bed of cotton wool, lay a pendant made out of some green stone, shaped like a disc and threaded with a leather cord. Looking more closely, Scarlett saw that there was a small animal carved into the center — a locust or a lizard or a cross between the two, lying on its side with its legs drawn up, as if in the womb. It was very intricate. If the work hadn't been so finely done, it might have been ugly.
    "It's jade," he explained. "And it's quite old. Yuan Dynasty. That's thirteenth century. Can I put it on you?"
    He reached forward and lifted it out of the box. Compared to the delicacy of the piece, his fingers looked thick and clumsy. Scarlett allowed him to lower it over her head, even though she didn't like having his hands so close to her throat.
    "It looks beautiful on you, Scarlett," he said. "I hope you'll look after it. It's very valuable, so you don't want to leave it lying around." He got to his feet. "But now I'm afraid I will have to abandon you. I have a board meeting. I'd much rather not go. But even though I'm the chairman, they still won't accept my cry for mercy. So I'll have to say good-bye, Scarlett. It was a pleasure to meet you."
    My cry for mercy…
    Why had he said that? Cry for Mercy was the name of the monastery where Scarlett had been kept prisoner, on the other side of the door. Of course, he couldn't possibly have known that, but nonetheless, he had chosen the words quite deliberately. Was he taunting her? The chairman was already moving back to the desk, but even as he had turned, Scarlett thought she had detected something in his eyes, behind his silver-framed glasses. Was she imagining it? He had just given her an expensive gift. And yet, for all his seeming kindness and concern, she could have sworn she had seen something else. A brief flash of cruelty.
    Scarlett spent the rest of the afternoon shopping — or window-shopping, anyway. She didn't actually buy anything, which was unlike her. Back in England, Aidan had often teased her that she'd lash out money on a diving suit if it had the right designer label. But she wasn't in the mood. She wondered if she'd caught a cold. It was still very damp, with a thin drizzle that hung suspended in the air without ever hitting the ground. She was also more aware of the silver-gray mist that stretched across the entire city, even following her into the arcades. The skyscrapers disappeared into it, the top floors fading out like a badly developed photograph. There was no sense of distance in Hong Kong. The mist enclosed everything so that roads went nowhere and people and cars seemed to appear as if out of nothing.
    She asked Audrey Cheng about it.
    "It's pollution," she replied, in a matter-of-fact voice. "It's not ours. It blows in from mainland China.
    There's nothing we can do." She looked at her watch. "It's time for supper, Scarlett. Would you like to go home?"
    Scarlett nodded.
    And then a man appeared, a little way ahead of them. Scarlett noticed him because he had stopped, forcing the crowd to separate and pass by him on both sides. They were on Queen Street, one of the busiest stretches in Hong Kong, surrounded by glimmering shop windows filled with furs, gold watches, fancy cameras, and diamond rings. The man was young, Chinese, dressed in a suit with a white shirt and a striped tie. He was holding an envelope.
    "Scarlett —" he began.
    He disappeared. The moment he spoke her name, the crowd closed in on him. It was one of the most extraordinary things Scarlett had ever seen. One moment, the people had been moving along the sidewalk — hundreds of them, complete strangers. But it was as if someone, somewhere, had thrown a switch and suddenly they were acting as one. Scarlett tried to look past the seething mass, but it was impossible. She thought she heard a scream. Then the crowd parted. The man was gone.
    Only the envelope remained. It was crumpled, lying on the sidewalk. Scarlett moved forward to pick it up, but someone got there ahead of her… a pedestrian walking past. It was just a man going home. She didn't even get a chance to look at his face. He snatched up the envelope and took it with him,