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coastal city, we're closely bound in with the feng shui of the sea and so souls have to cross the Sea of Night in order to enter one of the other realms. When a soul actually gets to the Night Harbor, it has to pass through a number of stages—it has to pay the Gate demons, then it has to get itself weighed, then it has to get through Bad Dog village, where demonic beasts torment the evil passers-by. Then it meets a mirror which tells it what it's likely to be reincarnated as, and then it gets taken to an observation post where it can look back on its earthly home and family for the last time and ruefully admit that it's completely screwed up and deserves everything that's coming to it. Finally it has to cross a chasm to the dock, and then it gets on the boat. When the soul's time in Heaven or Hell is up, the warrant officers take it back before the Wheel of the Law and it gets hurled out again into its next incarnation, having first been given a special drink to make sure it doesn't remember anything." Chen smiled encouragingly at Ma. "It's a bit like a package tour, really. If it's Tuesday, this must be Bad Dog village."
    Ma did not smile in return. He said, "You've been to Hell, haven't you? When you were still alive, I mean."
    Chen refrained from pointing out that he was still alive now. "Yes," he said quietly. "Yes, I've been to Hell. I have a dispensation, I don't need to go through all the various stages, though I do have to find my way through the Night Harbor. But it takes its toll, Ma." He sighed. "And I'm not the only one. If Tang's serious about being on the run, and he has the right contacts, it's feasible that he could hide out in Hell—I very much doubt they'd let him into Heaven, though you never know."
    A tremor seemed to pass over Ma's face: like a ripple of water over the moon's reflection.
    "Hell? You mean we might have to go to Hell to get him back?"
    "Sergeant, please keep your voice down. No, that is not strictly accurate. You will not have to go to Hell to retrieve our suspect. But I might."
    This effectively silenced Ma. He sat in thunderous contemplation, hunched over his little bowl of tea, while Chen took his turn at peering through the grubby lace curtains of the teahouse. The funeral parlor was literally as silent as the grave. Chen turned back to speak to Ma, and caught movement from the corner of his eye. The door of the funeral parlor was opening. The portly figure of Su Lo Ling stepped out onto the street, glanced hastily around him, and set off at a brisk trot along the road.
    "Stay here," Chen said, rising quickly from his chair. "Don't take your eyes off that house, and keep in touch with the patrolman."
    It was a risk that by going after the funeral parlor owner, he might lose the suspect—assuming Tang was even on the premises. Chen thought it worth the risk. Stepping cautiously out onto the pavement, he could see Ling disappearing down the street. Chen followed. The street grew suddenly darker, as a cloud engulfed the sun. Not a good omen, Chen thought.
    He was halfway down the street when the rain began, a torrent of water that hammered the dusty pavements and plastered Chen's hair flat against his head in the first minute of its descent. Cursing, Chen squinted through the rain and saw Ling's figure whisk into a doorway. Chen hurried up the street and dodged beneath an awning. The building into which Ling had gone seemed to be some kind of go-down; it might even be derelict. The windows were securely boarded up and the cracks taped over. The door through which Ling had gone was tightly closed. Chen put his ear to the door and heard nothing. After the events of the previous evening, he was reluctant to step into another trap without sufficient support. He was not, however, to be given a choice.
    The door of the go-down was flung open, startling Chen. A long, ebony spine whipped out and wrapped itself tightly around his ankle. Chen was thrown flat on his back and dragged through the