Foresight

by Ian Hamilton

  Uncle shook his head, fighting back frustration and a sense of hopelessness. He waved to Jia, and she hurried to the table. “Could you warm my tea, please?”

  “You aren’t eating. Is something wrong?” she asked, pointing at his bowl.

  “I don’t have much of an appetite this morning.”

  “You are too thin to begin with. I can’t have you coming in here and not eating, because we can’t afford to lose you,” she said. “Your congee must be cold by now. Let me replace it with a fresher bowl.”

  “Okay,” he said with a smile.

  When she left, Uncle reached for the Oriental Daily News, thinking that the paper might offer a small distraction. He opened it to the back pages, which were full of summaries and analysis of the previous day’s races at Sha Tin. As was his habit, he had been there and had wagered on every race. It had started badly, but he hit the winners of the last three races and had left ahead by a little.

  “Here you are,” Jia said, as she reappeared with a small bowl of fresh congee and a pot containing hot water. She poured the water into Chow’s teapot and put the bowl in front of him. “I feel like standing here to make sure you eat.”

  “You don’t have to fret so much,” he said, picking up a spoon.

  He closed the paper, turning it over to the front page. A photo of China’s new premier, Deng Xiaoping, stared back at him. The headline declared: “Shenzhen Has Become China’s Boomtown.” Uncle began to read the article, which was about the myriad commercial and manufacturing activities planned for — and already partially underway — in Shenzhen. The previous year, Deng had named Shenzhen a special economic zone in a bid to attract foreign investors to that region of China. Uncle hadn’t paid much attention at the time, just as he hadn’t seen any significance in Shenzhen’s being given city status the year before, even though it had a population of only thirty thousand. Now he was beginning to realize that Shenzhen’s designation as a city had been a prelude to its establishment as a special economic zone. But where was it all heading? Was sleepy Shenzhen really open to investment from the West? Was it already on its way to becoming an economic powerhouse, as the Daily News implied?

  Uncle hadn’t set foot in China since he’d left, even though Shenzhen was just a thirty-minute drive from Fanling. Initially he’d been afraid of being arrested or not being allowed back across the border into Hong Kong. But even when he became a Hong Kong citizen and received his all-important Hong Kong ID card, his memories of China were still too raw and his hatred of the Communists too intense to tempt him to travel there. And then there was the rather important fact that triads were still outlawed in China and, unlike the Hong Kong Police Force, the People’s Liberation Army wasn’t the least bit accommodating.

  The article continued on two inside pages, and as Uncle read further he found his interest in Shenzhen starting to grow. The article praised Deng Xiaoping’s vision for a new China, of which Shenzhen was one of the first building blocks. Despite his hatred of the Communists, Uncle was fascinated by Deng Xiaoping. He had tracked his recent career and read extensively about Deng’s colourful past. Now, he wondered, what was the little man (Deng was only four-eleven) up to with these special economic zones?

  Deng had been born in 1904 and had devoted almost his entire life to the Chinese Communist Party. It had been a life filled with dramatic ups and downs that included the deaths of a wife and two children, various persecutions followed by expulsions from high office, and four years of working as a labourer in a tractor factory when he was in his sixties, a victim of the Cultural Revolution. He was seventy-four when he finally became premier. Deng was a man whom Chow could admire on a personal level for — if nothing else — his persistence and that ability to survive.

  One major reason for Deng’s erratic political career was his practicality when it came to managing China’s economy. He believed that individuals were most productive when they were rewarded with the fruits of their labour. This ran contrary to Mao’s ideology, and it kept Deng in constant trouble. Without being critical of Mao, the article in the Daily News outlined the changes Deng had introduced since taking power, including the introduction of economic reforms in 1979 that had accelerated the open-market model. While many in Beijing were still mouthing the old Communist rhetoric, Deng had started dismantling the commune system that had taken Uncle’s family farm and contributed to the Bitter Years. Deng gave the peasants more freedom to manage their land and allowed them to sell their products on the open market. At the same time, he began to open China’s economy to foreign trade. He called his approach “socialism with Chinese characteristics.”

  What will be Deng’s next major step? Chow thought as he finished his bowl of congee. Is he really a reformer? Is Shenzhen really a crucial part of what he’s trying to do? If it is, could we somehow find a way to do business there? Before he could answer that question, he told himself, he needed to understand what a special economic zone was.

  “Ah, Uncle, you’ve eaten it all,” Jia said as she approached the table.

  “Thank you for insisting that I eat,” he said. “I feel much better for it.”

  Uncle left the restaurant soon after and, with the newspaper tucked under his arm, began to walk to the gang’s offices in the centre of town.

  The offices were located on the second floor above a dress shop. A forty-niner and a Blue Lantern — an uninitiated apprentice triad — stood on either side of the door that led to the stairway. The men were sentries and the first line of defence if the offices were ever attacked, although in Uncle’s twenty years as a Fanling triad there had been only one threat. That was ten years before, and it had been rebuffed. When he became Mountain Master, one of the first things he had done was ask Wang, the Red Pole, if the men were necessary. “Since I’ve been here, there hasn’t been a Mountain Master willing to take the risk of them not being there,” Wang had said. “I don’t think you should either.” Uncle had followed his advice, and every day when he reached the offices, he nodded to whichever two men were at the door.

  Saturday, Sunday, and Wednesday — because of Happy Valley racing — were the busiest days of the week at the office. Mondays and Thursdays were the quietest, and Uncle found the offices almost deserted when he reached the top of the stairs. Xu was speaking on the phone while his assistant in the adjoining office was going over some paperwork. Uncle motioned to Xu to join him when he had finished his conversation. A few minutes later, Xu entered Uncle’s office.

  “Did you talk to Wang about Tai Wai?” Uncle asked.

  “Yes. He said he’ll get to the truth by the end of the day.”

  “Was he angry?”

  “Of course, but you know he won’t do anything rash.”

  “I know; we’re fortunate to have him,” Uncle said. “How about Yu and Fong — any luck in reaching them?”

  “I managed to get hold of Fong. He told me he got back from Macau an hour ago and needs some sleep,” Xu said. “I had no luck with Yu, but I expect he’ll show up sometime today.”

  “Good. Then it sounds like we can have an executive meeting later.”

  “Is it because of this Tai Wai situation?”

  “Only indirectly, although that has spurred my sense of urgency about creating new income sources,” Uncle said. “After you left Jia’s, I began to think that the only real, long-lasting option we have is to start creating business outside of Fanling.”

  “Uncle, we’ve never poached on another gang’s territory,” Xu said quickly. “You have always insisted that we respect their boundaries and that they respect ours.”

  “Relax. I’m not talking about trying to move in on another gang’s turf,” Uncle said, reaching for the Oriental Daily News. “I’ve been reading about what’s going on in Shenzhen. It sounds like things are starting to take off economically over there since Deng designated it a special economic zone.”

  “What’s a
special economic zone?”

  “I don’t know the details, but I want us to find out as quickly as possible,” Uncle said. “Deng seems to be opening doors for people to do business in China. It would be logical, given its proximity to Hong Kong and Hong Kong’s relationships with the rest of the world, that Shenzhen might be one of those doors. The thing about doors, Xu, is that they let you in and they let you out. Maybe the time is right for us to re-establish a foothold on the mainland.”

  “But Mao banned us. He turned the PLA loose on us. Has Deng reversed that policy?”

  “No, but maybe what Deng has set in motion will give us a way to get back in carefully and quietly,” Uncle said, and then paused. “Just imagine the possibilities if we could accomplish that.”

  “I can’t tell you how much I’d love to be living in Shanghai again,” Xu said. “I still own a house in the French Concession. For years my wife has wanted me to sell it, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it.”

  “It’s too soon to be talking about Shanghai, but Shenzhen is as close as Kowloon — we’re practically neighbours. What we need is to understand what’s going on there,” Uncle said. “I sense that Deng is forcing change in China, and I want us to be out in front of whatever’s coming. There aren’t many rewards for being second to recognize what the future may look like, and Shenzhen could be at the forefront of that future.”

  “We do have a connection there.”

  “In Shenzhen?” Uncle asked in surprise.

  “Yes. We’re doing business with a small factory making knock-off Lacoste shirts that we sell in our night markets.”

  “I didn’t know that.”

  “We just started with them a few months ago, and the amount of business is so minor that I didn’t think it worth mentioning.”

  “How did we find them?”

  “They found us. The factory owner knows someone who knows Fong. They were looking for a market on this side of the border and contacted him. Fong met with him and brokered a deal.”

  Fong was the gang’s Straw Sandal, the man in charge of communications within the gang and maintaining connections with other organizations, including other gangs. He was as close to Uncle as Xu.

  “Then I need to talk to Fong as soon as possible. Call his apartment and tell him I want to see him now.”

  “He could be asleep already. He may not answer.”

  “Then send someone to get him.”

  “If it comes to that, I’ll go to his apartment myself,” Xu said.

  “Thank you.”

  Xu stood to leave, then hesitated, leaning towards Uncle. “You’re really serious about Shenzhen, aren’t you.”

  “I’m serious about growing and expanding our business, and unless you know something I don’t, I can’t think of how to do that in Hong Kong,” Uncle said. “There may be nothing for us in Shenzhen and this special economic zone experiment may amount to absolutely nothing, but we won’t know until we investigate it. The one thing I know is that if we can do business there, we won’t be bumping into any other triads, at least not for a while.”

  The gang’s office layout was basic: a large expanse of floor dotted with desks and surrounded by seven offices, one for each member of the executive. Uncle watched Xu cross the floor, enter his office, and close the door. He had hoped for a bit more enthusiasm from Xu, but given how suddenly he’d sprung the idea on him, and considering the way Xu had been driven from China, he realized that might have been an unrealistic expectation. And he might think I’m just grasping at straws, Uncle thought as he took out a ledger and began to enter the previous day’s betting tallies. By noon he’d have the sales figures from the massage parlours and restaurants to add, and unless they were spectacular, once more he’d be calculating how large the week’s loss was for the gang.

  “Fong answered his phone,” Xu said, appearing suddenly in the doorway. “He’ll be here in half an hour.”

  ( 3 )

  Fong arrived at the office dragging his feet and with his head hanging low. He was as thin as Uncle but six inches taller, and where Uncle’s hair was shaved tight to his scalp, Fong’s was long and flopped over his ears, reaching his eyebrows. This morning he was unshaven, and that, combined with his downturned mouth, made him look mournful. An incorrigible gambler and night owl, Fong seldom made an appearance before mid-afternoon, but by then he had slept. Being summoned to a meeting so early and without sleep couldn’t have pleased him, but still he smiled when he saw Uncle in his office doorway.

  “Hey, boss, what’s up? Xu sounded like it was urgent.”

  “Did you really just get home from Macau?” Uncle said. “I’m not accustomed to seeing you smiling after a weekend over there.”

  “That’s not funny,” Fong said, the smile evaporating.

  “So it was Macau, and from your sour tone I’m guessing it was either baccarat or roulette that did you in,” Uncle said.

  “Roulette,” Fong said with a groan. “I read about this system that’s supposedly foolproof. You bet on the first twelve, second twelve, or third twelve numbers where you get odds of two to one if you hit. But you don’t bet on any of them until one of them doesn’t hit twice in a row. That’s when you bet on it, and keep doubling up until it pays off. When it does, you start all over again.”

  “What went wrong?” Uncle asked.

  “I was betting the last twelve numbers. Somehow not one of them was hit ten times in a row. Mathematically that’s almost impossible.”

  “You should have learned by now that there’s no such thing as impossible when it comes to gambling.”

  “You don’t have to tell me,” Fong said. “I feel stupid enough as it is.”

  “I’m only expressing a brother’s concern,” Uncle said.

  “I know.”

  “And regardless of the circumstances, I’m glad you’re here, because I need your help with something.”

  “What?”

  “Have a seat,” Uncle said, pointing to a chair inside his office and then waving at Xu across the office floor.

  When Xu had joined them, Uncle took his seat behind the desk. “I understand that you put together a deal to buy some knock-off Lacoste clothing from a factory in Shenzhen,” Uncle said to Fong.

  “I did. Is there a problem with that?”

  “Not unless you know of one.”

  Fong shrugged. “The last I heard everything was going well.”

  “Are we making money with the product?”

  “We’re selling it for three times our cost. I only wish I could get more of it, but the factory is small and doesn’t produce anything in big volume.”

  “Still, it’s a terrific profit margin, and I’m glad to hear that. Because I’d like you to call your contact there and arrange a meeting for us.”

  “Who do you want to meet with?”

  “The guy who owns the factory,” Uncle said. “Does he know you’re triad?”

  “No. As far as he’s concerned I’m just someone who runs a night market. But Uncle, both the guy and the deal are small potatoes,” Fong said. “And, to be truthful, his clothes are shit. The only things about them that even resemble the real thing are the alligator logo and the label that he sews on.”

  “None of that is important to me. I want you to set up a meeting anyway.”

  Fong sighed, knowing Uncle had made up his mind, and that when he did, there wasn’t much point in trying to change it. “When do you want to do this?”

  “Today, if possible. If not, then as soon as you can arrange it.”

  “Who would be going from our side?”

  “Me, Xu, and you — if you’re up to joining us.”

  “Where do you want to meet?” Fong asked, and then shook his head. “That was a silly question. I doubt the guy would be allowed to cross the border. We’ll have to go there. Given how you two left China, a
re you okay with that?”

  Uncle produced a booklet from a drawer. The cover read Home-Visiting Certificate for Compatriots from Hong Kong and Macau. “Xu talked me into getting this a year ago. It’s a home-visit permit that will get me into China. Anyone who was born in China but lives in Hong Kong is eligible. I’ve never used it, and never thought I would.”

  “That seems perfect,” Fong said. “Assuming I can contact the guy, what reason do I have for us wanting to meet?”

  “Tell him we want to talk to him about ways of expanding our business together.”

  Fong looked at Uncle and then at Xu. “But I don’t think he’s capable of giving us more product. The factory is small and the equipment is old.”

  “I don’t care what he can do right now,” Uncle said. “I’m thinking about the future.”

  “Deng Xiaoping has designated Shenzhen as a special economic zone,” Xu said. “Uncle thinks that might offer us an opportunity to expand our business into China.”

  “How can we do that when they don’t permit triad gangs to operate?” Fong said.

  “Please stop being negative and make the call to the owner. You can use my phone if you want,” Uncle said.

  “I’ll go to my own office. I could use some tea, and I have some pills there to pick me up.”

  Uncle waited for Fong to leave before saying to Xu, “I love Fong, but there are times when I worry that his gambling is getting completely out of control.”

  “We’ve banned him from betting in any of our shops.”

  “That doesn’t stop him from going to Macau.”

  “If you want to put a stop to that, you’ll have to talk to him directly. You’re the only person he listens to.”

  “I’d feel like a hypocrite. I mean, I don’t miss many race days at Happy Valley or Sha Tin.”

  “There’s a big difference between betting on horses and betting on games where the odds are rigged against you.”