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Would you like to check with your manager?”
    “I think this arrangement is good,” the guard said, chastened and relieved.
    “I am glad you thought of such a workable solution,” Knox said. “I will make certain to let your manager know how promptly and efficiently you handled my request.”
    He withdrew two hundred yuan from the vest on their way to the elevator, making sure the guard saw him do so, balling the money in his left hand.
    Knox kept the brim of the Tigers cap toward the floor for the sake of the hallway cameras.
    Danner’s contemporary Chinese luxury apartment was the perfect example of decorative contradiction: marble floors, faux-leather furniture, glass dining room table, all under the glow of low-voltage lighting—mixed together with red velvet curtains, polished brass “gold” plumbing fixtures and leaded crystal lighting sconces. Gaudy, pretentious and over-the-top.
    Knox planted the man outside the door in the hallway, then, inside, conducted a thorough search of Danner’s desk, closets, drawers and bathroom. He searched for hair samples to provide Dulwich his DNA sample. Maid service had scoured the place; he failed to find a brush or comb offering hairs. He located an electric toothbrush, but doubted its sample strength. He was about to give up when he spotted a clear plastic razor dispenser holding new and used razor blade cartridges. He studied the used blades more carefully—all were caked with thick black lines beneath the blades: whiskers. He pocketed the dispenser. He would overnight it.
    He continued the search for evidence of a kidnapping. Danner was far too careful and clever to leave anything important where it might be easily discovered, so Knox also searched for hidden panels and loose floor tiles. He accessed and unscrewed four air vents, peering inside. The closet safe was locked, but if he was right about the man who’d preceded him, its contents were now gone.
    Five minutes dragged into ten. Fifteen. Knox took it to the next level, patting down and searching his missing friend’s clothing. An elliptical trainer faced a flat-panel TV, a neatly folded white towel draped over its handlebars. He checked in the slight inclined gap beneath it. Checked behind the flat panel. Checked the flat panel itself for a USB drive or memory card. Dug down into the soil of the potted plants. Searched the refrigerator and freezer. Pulled both away from the wall. Removed the stoppers from the sink and tub drains and looked for hidden wires or chains used to lower contents out of sight. Inspected the toilet tanks. Put his hand down the garbage disposal in the divided sink.
    A framed bedside photograph of Peggy and a two-year-old boy won Knox’s attention, stopping him. He studied it, then removed it from the frame, but found nothing. For show, he gathered a pair of pajamas and placed them in his backpack along with two paperback books. He would show these to the security man.
    He took photos with his iPhone and disassembled the apartment’s phone, looking for eavesdropping bugs. He collected a power supply from behind the desk, taking note of the absence of dust on the power strip where a grounded plug had been connected—Danner’s laptop. Also plugged into the strip was a lonely charger cord, its power supply marked “Garmin.” A GPS. He zipped it in his backpack as well.
    He found the Garmin’s owner’s manual in a desk drawer, along with another for a Honda 220 motorcycle, and one for the elliptical trainer.
    He called the security man inside and showed him the few items he was taking out of the apartment, but did not reveal the Garmin power cord. The man nodded, not asking for Knox to sign anything.
    “The other man or men that came here,” Knox said calmly. “Chinese or waiguoren?”
    “I did not say other man come here.”
    “Same question.”
    The man didn’t answer.
    “It is up to you,” Knox said. “The issue of the computer being removed will have to be addressed, of