The Envoy & His Navel Liaison

"No," he says, reassuring her with a touch of his hand. But what follows is not sugary, since nothing about these two survivors is soft and sweet, except perhaps for the pillowy contours of his face.

"I think it's undoubtedly true that some of the things that you've been through have damaged your ability to form emotional attachments," he says. "Other than your blood family, you don't really feel that close to anybody."

They are still holding hands.

A Raging Scot

Uzbekistan sits in the cold, rough heart of Central Asia, shaped like a jagged bit of shrapnel from the explosion of the Soviet Union. Landlocked and poor, it is surrounded by Stans: Kyrgyz-, Turkmeni-, Tajiki-, Kazakh- and, just to the south, Afghanistan.

Karimov has run the place with an iron heart and Soviet gentility since 1991, with a human rights record so hideous that Amnesty International and others, apparently fresh out of adjectives, simply call it "disastrous."

But global politics were different when Murray rode into town in 2002. The wounds of Sept. 11 were still open and raw, U.S. and British soldiers were pounding Afghanistan, and Iraq was in the cross hairs. President Bush and Prime Minister Tony Blair needed all the friends they could get in Central Asia.

Karimov signed on to the "war on terror" team, and, as Murray recalls it, his human rights record was suddenly much less important to London and Washington than his willingness to let the Americans park warplanes in Uzbekistan.

Murray, at 42, was the youngest British ambassador at the time, and he set out to be its most outspoken -- a raging Scot in a kilt, as he once appeared in a meeting with Karimov.

Shortly after his arrival, he said, photos of a man who died in Uzbek police custody landed on his desk. Pathology reports showed that he had been boiled to death, after having had his fingernails ripped out.

The British ambassador became a crusader, attending trials, giving speeches, blowing the whistle on systemic rights abuses. And evidence of something else began emerging: Karimov's men were torturing suspected terrorists, and passing the resulting intelligence on to the Americans and the British.

In the fall of 2002, Murray says he sent a cable to London. It remains classified, but he says it argued that it was morally wrong and illegal to accept information gained from torture.

He says he sent similar cables in early 2003 and in July 2004. In the last one, which was not classified, he wrote: "It is morally, legally and practically wrong to continue to receive this material. It is hypocritical and fatally undermines our moral standing."