because we’ve suffered the loss of several artifacts from this excavation.”
“You’ve been in contact with the local authorities….”
“We’ve worked with the Security Bureau in Bashan, the town closest to the site, but what do a few policemen in a small village understand about thefts of this sort?”
And couldn’t it be possible, even probable, that those policemen were somehow involved? David mused.
“What specifically is missing?” he asked.
An odd stillness came over Ho.
“I’ve relied on the leader of the dig to keep me informed of what’s been stolen, but I am a long way from the Three Gorges and don’t receive as much information as I’d like.”
“Are you saying you don’t know?” David was skeptical of the idea.
“I am aware of the identity of certain pieces, but the team is pulling out artifacts faster than they can be cataloged, and we cannot begin a search until we file an international report detailing each missing item.”
The vagueness of the sentence mixed with Ho’s body language contained a lot of possibilities. Could the Cultural Relics Bureau be so disorganized as not to know what it was finding? Maybe the bureau wouldn’t know, but certainly they’d have to know at the site, wouldn’t they? There had to be something more….
Ho pulled on an earlobe and confided, “Even in the year 2002, archaeology is still a largely unmechanized profession. We work with shovels, spades, scrapers, and brushes. As a result, we see cuts, bruises, and sometimes broken bones. But Site 518 has had more than the usual number of problems.”
Ho gazed away as he said this last bit. David understood. You could tackle something head-on or pretend that you really weren’t saying it.
“I’ve handled several cases involving work-related accidents,” he prompted. The only good that had come out of the terrible events at the Knight toy factory was that they had opened a new practice area for David in workplace safety. These past few years, he had been hired not only by the Chinese but also by American and European companies to help avoid or correct abuses.
“I’m aware of your expertise in these matters. I’ve been told you bring to the table a unique set of abilities. Our entire country is grateful for what you did at the Knight factory.” Ho followed this piece of flattery with a new disclosure. “So far this summer we have had five accidental deaths.”
“All at Site 518?”
“All in the vicinity.”
“From what you’ve said, fatal accidents should be rare.”
“Correct.”
“So then what are these ‘accidents’?”
“A worker fell from a ladder. A bridge collapsed and three men died. And there was a drowning.”
“Except for the man who fell from the ladder, these don’t seem necessarily work related.”
Director Ho jutted his chin. It was the Chinese equivalent of a shrug, but what exactly did that shrug mean?
“Is there any way these deaths are connected?”
“They were all local day workers.”
This didn’t seem like much to go on. After all, most of China’s vast population could be categorized as local day workers, whether in fields or in factories.
“Has anything been done to improve safety or to investigate these deaths more closely? Again, what does the local Public Security Bureau have to say?” David asked.
“How do we improve safety when we have phantom accidents?” Ho came back silkily. “How do you get the Public Security Bureau to do something when nothing seems wrong?”
“Phantom?”
“We have nothing to pinpoint and no one to accuse.”
“Be grateful,” David reassured the director. “It probably means no one’s to blame. The Public Security Bureau would investigate if there were something to worry about.”
“That’s what I was told.”
Sometimes David’s job was closer to that of a psychiatrist or priest than that of an attorney. People wanted to tell him something, but he had to wait until they were ready.
“We are a
“You’ve been in contact with the local authorities….”
“We’ve worked with the Security Bureau in Bashan, the town closest to the site, but what do a few policemen in a small village understand about thefts of this sort?”
And couldn’t it be possible, even probable, that those policemen were somehow involved? David mused.
“What specifically is missing?” he asked.
An odd stillness came over Ho.
“I’ve relied on the leader of the dig to keep me informed of what’s been stolen, but I am a long way from the Three Gorges and don’t receive as much information as I’d like.”
“Are you saying you don’t know?” David was skeptical of the idea.
“I am aware of the identity of certain pieces, but the team is pulling out artifacts faster than they can be cataloged, and we cannot begin a search until we file an international report detailing each missing item.”
The vagueness of the sentence mixed with Ho’s body language contained a lot of possibilities. Could the Cultural Relics Bureau be so disorganized as not to know what it was finding? Maybe the bureau wouldn’t know, but certainly they’d have to know at the site, wouldn’t they? There had to be something more….
Ho pulled on an earlobe and confided, “Even in the year 2002, archaeology is still a largely unmechanized profession. We work with shovels, spades, scrapers, and brushes. As a result, we see cuts, bruises, and sometimes broken bones. But Site 518 has had more than the usual number of problems.”
Ho gazed away as he said this last bit. David understood. You could tackle something head-on or pretend that you really weren’t saying it.
“I’ve handled several cases involving work-related accidents,” he prompted. The only good that had come out of the terrible events at the Knight toy factory was that they had opened a new practice area for David in workplace safety. These past few years, he had been hired not only by the Chinese but also by American and European companies to help avoid or correct abuses.
“I’m aware of your expertise in these matters. I’ve been told you bring to the table a unique set of abilities. Our entire country is grateful for what you did at the Knight factory.” Ho followed this piece of flattery with a new disclosure. “So far this summer we have had five accidental deaths.”
“All at Site 518?”
“All in the vicinity.”
“From what you’ve said, fatal accidents should be rare.”
“Correct.”
“So then what are these ‘accidents’?”
“A worker fell from a ladder. A bridge collapsed and three men died. And there was a drowning.”
“Except for the man who fell from the ladder, these don’t seem necessarily work related.”
Director Ho jutted his chin. It was the Chinese equivalent of a shrug, but what exactly did that shrug mean?
“Is there any way these deaths are connected?”
“They were all local day workers.”
This didn’t seem like much to go on. After all, most of China’s vast population could be categorized as local day workers, whether in fields or in factories.
“Has anything been done to improve safety or to investigate these deaths more closely? Again, what does the local Public Security Bureau have to say?” David asked.
“How do we improve safety when we have phantom accidents?” Ho came back silkily. “How do you get the Public Security Bureau to do something when nothing seems wrong?”
“Phantom?”
“We have nothing to pinpoint and no one to accuse.”
“Be grateful,” David reassured the director. “It probably means no one’s to blame. The Public Security Bureau would investigate if there were something to worry about.”
“That’s what I was told.”
Sometimes David’s job was closer to that of a psychiatrist or priest than that of an attorney. People wanted to tell him something, but he had to wait until they were ready.
“We are a
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