Dance with the Dragon by David Hagberg

sip, he gave her a sad smile. “It must have been terribly difficult for you, all alone in Mexico City, not knowing a soul.”
    She nodded. “Mr. McGarvey was right. I figured that I could find work, and as soon as I had saved enough money I could head north, maybe to the Texas border, and get into the States. But I wanted to do it right, I wanted to have the correct papers, and my green card.”
    “And did you find work so that you could save some money?” McGarvey asked.
    “Yes, but it wasn’t easy.”
    “Easy enough so that you weren’t forced to sell your necklace or ring.”
    “I didn’t have anything else,” Shahrzad flared. “Once they were gone I’d be stuck.” She looked away for a moment. “It was degrading. All the men were just like you; when they looked at me they thought I was a whore.”
    McGarvey wanted to feel sorry for her, but he wasn’t convinced that it was anything more than a very good performance. “Belly dancing?”
    She started to answer, but Perry cut her off. “Not quite belly dancing,” he said. He gave Shahrzad a disparaging look as if he were examining a bug under a microscope. “I believe the euphemism for what she did is exotic dancing, though I don’t believe it has any connection with either.”
    “It paid good money,” she said.
    “Downtown is filled with those sorts of establishments,” Perry said. “Especially in Polanco and Zona Rosa. Strip joints. Lap dancing. Massage parlors. And much worse.”
    “That’s where you met Updegraf?” McGarvey asked.
    She nodded.
    “Did he tell you that he worked for the CIA?”
    “Not at first.”
    “But you spotted him in the audience, and you danced for him in particular,” McGarvey said. “I just want to get this part clear in my mind. Why him?”
    “He was sort of handsome. And he was very nice. A kind man.”
    “He was a rich American who could help you get to America,” McGarvey suggested. He was getting a pretty fair idea where this was going. But he wanted to hear the details from the girl’s own mouth.
    “That too, at first,” she admitted. “But he didn’t hit on me, which I really appreciated, you know. He was a gentleman in that respect.”
    McGarvey refrained from asking in what respects Updegraf hadn’t been a gentleman, because he thought he might already know the answer. Anyway, the subject was going to come up soon. “How often did you dance at the clubs?”
    “It was the same club,” she said. “The Wild Stallion in Zona Rosa. I danced five nights a week, Tuesday through Saturday, from eleven until three in the morning.”
    “How often did Updegraf show up to catch your act?”
    “After the first couple of times, he was there just about every night I danced.”
    “Did he ask you to sit with him at his table, buy you drinks?”
    “At first.”
    “Did he give you presents, like the general had done?”
    Her jaw tightened. “It wasn’t like that,” she said. “It was never like that.”
    McGarvey turned to Perry. “What the hell was one of your field officers doing there? Or was that where his code clerk hung out?”
    Perry spread his hands. “I don’t know. There was nothing in any of his encounter sheets that he was doing the club scene. Supposedly he was meeting the code clerk at a coffee bar just around the corner from the embassy.”
    “Sounds to me like he was playing with fire,” Rencke suggested.
    “Was General Liu also one of your admirers?” McGarvey asked, taking a stab in the dark.
    Shahrzad was about to take a drink, but her hand suddenly shook so badly she nearly dropped the glass. “I didn’t know anything about him until much later,” she blurted. She turned to Rencke as if she wanted help. “The club was always packed. It was almost impossible to pick someone out of the crowd. They all looked the same to me.”
    “Except for Updegraf,” McGarvey said.
    “He stood out.”
    “I’ll bet he did,” McGarvey said drily. “When did you start having sex with