The Stone Monkey

saying.”
    Sellitto and Rhyme shared a humorous glance. Rhyme was picturing the consequences if Li had said that to Sachs’s face.
    Li pointed around the town house. “I get address from her car and come here, thinking maybe I get stuff that lead me to Ghost. Information, I’m saying. Evidence.”
    “Steal it?” Coe asked.
    “Yes, sure,” he said unabashedly.
    “Why’d you do that, you little skel?” Dellray askedmenacingly, using a popular cop word, short for “skeleton,” meaning basically: worthless little snitch.
    “Have to get it for myself. Because, hey, you not let me help you, right? You just send me back. And I going to arrest him. ‘Collar,’ right? You say ‘collar.’ ”
    Coe said, “Well, you’re right—you’re not helping us. You may be a cop in China. But here you’re just one more fucking undocumented. You are going back.”
    Eyes flashing angrily, Sonny Li stepped close to Coe, who towered over the small man.
    Sellitto sighed and tugged Li back by the shirt. “Naw, none of that shit.”
    Amused at the man’s bravado, Coe reached for his cuffs. “Li, you’re under arrest for entering the United States—”
    But Lincoln Rhyme said, “No, I want him.”
    “What?” the agent asked in shock.
    “He’ll be a consultant. Like me.”
    “Impossible.”
    “Anybody who goes to this much trouble to nail a perp—I want him working on our side.”
    “You bet I help, Loaban. Do lots, I’m saying.”
    “What’d you call me?”
    Li explained to Rhyme, “ ‘Loaban.’ It mean ‘boss.’ You got keep me. I can help. I know how Ghost think. We from same world, him and me. I in gang when I boy, like him. And spent lots time as undercover officer, working docks in Fuzhou.”
    “No way,” Coe blurted. “For Christ’s sake, he’s an undocumented. As soon as we turn our back he’ll just run off, get drunk and go to a gambling parlor.”
    Rhyme wondered if a kung fu match was about to break out. But this time Li ignored Coe and spoke in a reasonable voice. “In my country we got four classes people.Not like rich and poor, stuff like you got here. In China what you do more important than money you got. And know what highest honor is? Working for country, working for people. That what I do and I one fuck good cop, I’m saying.”
    “They’re all on the take over there,” Coe muttered.
    “I not on take, okay?” Li then grinned. “Not on important case like this.”
    Coe said, “And how do we know he’s not really on the Ghost’s payroll.”
    Li laughed. “Hey, how we know you not working for him?”
    “Fuck you,” Coe said. He was furious.
    The young INS agent’s problem, Rhyme assessed, was that he was too emotional to be an effective law enforcer. The criminalist often heard contempt in his voice when he spoke about the “undocumenteds.” He seemed affronted that they would break federal law to sneak into this country and had suggested several times that immigrants were motivated essentially by greed to come here, not by a love of freedom or democracy.
    Apart from his derisive attitude toward the aliens, however, he had a troubling personal stake in collaring the Ghost. Several years ago Coe had been stationed in Taipei, the capital of Taiwan, running undercover agents in mainland China, trying to identify major snakeheads. During an investigation of the Ghost, one of his informants, a woman, had disappeared and presumably been killed. Later it was learned that the woman had two young children but had so desperately needed money that she was willing to snitch on the Ghost—the INS never would have used her as an informant if they’d known that she had children. Coe was reprimanded—suspendedfor six months. He’d become obsessed with collaring the Ghost.
    But to be a good cop you’ve got to tuck those personal feelings away. Detachment is absolutely necessary. This was a variation on Rhyme’s rule about giving up the dead.
    Dellray said, “Listen up. Ain’t in the mood t’put you kiddies in a time-out corner so juss settle down. Li stays with us for’s long as Lincoln wants him. Make it happen, Coe. Call somebody at the State Department and get him a temporary visa. We all together on that?”
    Coe muttered, “No, I’m not all together on that. You can’t have one of them on a task force.”
    “ ‘Them’?” Dellray asked, pivoting on a very long foot. “Who exactly might ‘them’ be?”
    “Undocumenteds.”
    The tall agent clicked his