Gideon was becoming a little irritated. "First, that isn’t what I’m telling you," he said. "Second, it certainly seems to me you do have a hypothesis. Why are you trying so hard to get me to say he wasn’t an American?"

"I’m not trying to get you to say anything. Don’t get touchy." Suddenly he was very much a policeman, issuing a steely, unmistakable warning. Gideon’s irritation was replaced by a stab of concern. He very nearly asked if he were in some sort of trouble, but held his tongue.

Lau glared at him a moment longer. Then his eyes crinkled, and the mild, affable Hawaiian returned. "I’m sorry. I guess I’m touchy too. We’ve both been up most of the night on this, haven’t we? And my guess is it’s been a little tougher on you than on me." Again the friendly smile. Gideon returned it, but now he was wary.

Lau went on. "I’ve read the report, but there’s one thing I’m not very clear about." He held his cup in both hands, seemingly absorbed in its contents. "Would you mind going over how you got away from them after they pulled the knife?"

"All right. I just stamped on the one guy’s foot-"

Lau looked puzzled. "I understood you scraped down his shin with your heel and then stamped."

"Well, yes, I did, sure, but I didn’t think it was important enough-"

"Okay, I just want to make sure I have it straight. Go ahead."

"Then I sort of swung around-my hands were still behind my head-and I lucked out and hit him in the neck…"

Gideon stopped. Lau was smiling cheerfully at him.

"Okay," said Gideon, "what now? I’m getting the feeling you know something I don’t."

Still grinning, the policeman unbuttoned the flap on the pocket of his denim shirt and took out a small notebook. "This is from the tape the MPs made of your story. Verbatim. ‘Then I pivoted around. I drove my left elbow into his larynx. I caught him on the thyroid cartilage, at the apex of the laryngeal prominence.’ Uh, as a simple policeman, can I assume you’re referring to the Adam’s apple?"