ecker gazed down at the cadaver. Even hours after death, theAsian's face radiated with a pinkish glow of a recent sunburn.The rest of him was a pale yellow—all except the small area ofpurplish bruising directly over his heart.

Probably from the CPR, Becker mused. Too bad itdidn't work.

He went back to studying the cadaver's hands. They werelike nothing Becker had ever seen. Each hand had only three digits,and they were twisted and askew. The disfigurement, however, wasnot what Becker was looking at.

"Well, I'll be." The lieutenant grunted fromacross the room. "He's Japanese, not Chinese."

Becker looked up. The officer was thumbing through the deadman's passport. "I'd rather you didn't look atthat," Becker requested. Touch nothing. Readnothing.

"Ensei Tankado… born January—"

"Please," Becker said politely. "Put itback."

The officer stared at the passport a moment longer and thentossed it back on the pile. "This guy's got a class-3visa. He could have stayed here for years."

Becker poked at the victim's hand with a pen. "Maybehe lived here."

"Nope. Date of entry was last week."

"Maybe he was moving here," Becker offeredcurtly.

"Yeah, maybe. Crummy first week. Sunstroke and a heartattack. Poor bastard."

Becker ignored the officer and studied the hand."You're positive he wasn't wearing any jewelry whenhe died?"

The officer looked up, startled. "Jewelry?"

"Yeah. Take a look at this."

The officer crossed the room.

The skin on Tankado's left hand showed traces of sunburn,everywhere except a narrow band of flesh around the smallestfinger.

Becker pointed to the strip of pale flesh. "See how thisisn't sunburned here? Looks like he was wearing aring."

The officer seemed surprised. "A ring?" Hisvoice sounded suddenly perplexed. He studied the corpse'sfinger. Then he flushed sheepishly. "My God." Hechuckled. "The story was true?"

Becker had a sudden sinking feeling. "I beg yourpardon?"

The officer shook his head in disbelief. "I would havementioned it before… but I thought the guy was nuts."

Becker was not smiling. "What guy?"

"The guy who phoned in the emergency. Some Canadiantourist. Kept talking about a ring. Babbling in the worst damnSpanish I ever heard."

"He said Mr. Tankado was wearing a ring?"

The officer nodded. He pulled out a Ducado cigarette, eyed theno fumar sign, and lit up anyway. "Guess I should have saidsomething, but the guy sounded totally loco."

Becker frowned. Strathmore's words echoed in his ears. I want everything Ensei Tankado had with him. Everything. Leavenothing. Not even a tiny scrap of paper.

"Where is the ring now?" Becker asked.

The officer took a puff. "Long story."

Something told Becker this was not good news. "Tellme anyway."