Foresight

by Ian Hamilton

  “I swam across Shenzhen Bay,” Uncle said, figuring that would be Liu’s next question. “There were twelve of us when we got in the water. Only nine of us made it out.”

  “How did you lose the three?”

  “The PLA didn’t shoot them in the water, if that’s what you’re thinking,” Uncle said. “The bay was dirty and dangerous enough to take lives without any assistance.”

  Liu took out his pack of Zhonghua cigarettes — Mao’s favourite brand — and offered Uncle one. Uncle shook his head. “I only smoke Marlboros,” he said, reaching for his pack. They both lit up.

  “I have to say I appreciate your candour,” Liu said. “Although I do have to tell you that leaving China the way you did is illegal. I would advise against sharing that story with less understanding officials.”

  Uncle shrugged. “What I’m trying to figure out is why you are being so understanding.”

  “There’s no mystery to it,” Liu said, and then glanced at Uncle to see if there was a reaction. When there wasn’t, he continued, “I know you’re paying Peng,”

  What kind of game is this? What does he want? Is he trying to bring Peng down? “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Uncle said softly.

  “I’m glad you said that, and I appreciate your reticence. A man can’t be too careful when it comes to discussing matters like this,” Liu said. “But surely you can’t believe I’m trying to entrap you or cause harm to Peng. If I had wanted either of those things, I could simply have left you in the hut with the others. You would have been interrogated about Peng until we had the truth, and then you would have been sent back to Wuhan or taken into the field behind the hut and shot. Instead I came to get you, and now I’m driving you to Shenzhen to have what I hope will be a pleasant conversation over a beer and a plate of barbecued pork.”

  “Why?”

  “Why what?”

  “Why are you doing this? What have I done to justify this kind of treatment?”

  “I like the way you do business.”

  “There isn’t that much to like. The only business I’ve done here is with Ming, and it’s still early days,” Uncle said.

  “I’m talking about the businesses you have in Fanling, and the way you conduct them,” Liu said, smiling. “Let’s not be secretive. If this is going to be work, we both need to be candid.”

  “If what is going to work?”

  “If you don’t mind, I’d like to save the details until we’re at the restaurant.”

  “Okay, but tell me, what do you actually know about my businesses in Fanling?”

  “More than I think you’d like me to know.”

  Uncle took a deep drag of his cigarette. “I need to think about this conversation,” he said finally.

  “I wouldn’t expect anything less,” Liu said as he looked at his watch. “We’ll be at the restaurant in about fifteen minutes. That should give you enough time.”

  ( 13 )

  The restaurant was in a section of Shenzhen that Uncle hadn’t visited before. From its name — Johnny’s Noodles — Uncle assumed the owner was from Hong Kong. It was on the ground floor of a ten-storey building that, like every other building nearby, was new, and the air around it had the lingering odour of wet cement. Liu parked directly in front of the restaurant in a spot designated for SEZ officials.

  “My department has leased the top three floors of this building, but we don’t move in for another two weeks,” Liu said. “This restaurant has been open for about a month and I’ve eaten here every time I’ve come to inspect the progress on our office. So that’s at least eight times.”

  “Is Johnny from Hong Kong?”

  “There is no Johnny; the owner’s name is Han. He’s from Guangzhou, but he thought an English name would give the place a Hong Kong feel. Hong Kong cuisine does have a great reputation in this town.”

  “I’m impressed that you took the trouble to find out about Johnny, or Han.”

  Liu shrugged. “I’m curious by nature, and since we’re neighbours and I’m going to be a regular customer, it made sense. I always like to know who I’m doing business with.”

  Johnny’s Noodles had a large plate-glass window through which Uncle could see three rows of tables running in a straight line from front to back. Most of them were occupied. “The place looks busy,” he said.

  “I asked Han to hold a table for us.”

  “You were that confident that I’d come with you?”

  “It would have been ill-advised not to, and from everything I’ve heard, the last thing you are is rash,” Liu said, opening the front door.

  Uncle followed him inside and the odour of wet cement was replaced by the delicious aromas of garlic and ginger. Almost instantly, his appetite returned.

  “Mr. Director, welcome back,” a lean, short woman said as she left the hostess stand and hurried towards them with her head lowered deferentially.

  “Is my table available?” Liu asked.

  “Of course. I’ll take you to it.”

  The restaurant was nearly full and almost every head turned in their direction as they passed on the way to their table. Liu wasn’t wearing an easily recognizable uniform, but it was official-looking enough to catch and hold a lot of nervous attention.

  The hostess led them to a table tucked into a corner at the back of the restaurant. “The same as usual to drink?” she asked Liu.

  “Please,” he said, and turned to Uncle. “I’m going to have Tsingtao beer. Will you join me?”

  “Gladly,” Uncle said.

  “Another of my traits is that I’m a creature of habit,” Liu said. “When I find something I like, I tend to stick to it.”

  “I’m much the same.”

  “Are you hungry, or has this afternoon ruined your appetite?” Liu asked.

  “I’ll stick to beer for now,” Uncle said, anxious to get on with whatever business Liu wanted to discuss.

  Liu sat back and surveyed the restaurant. “It didn’t take long for this place to earn a good reputation. When you conduct business properly, a good reputation almost naturally develops. Ming is another example of that.”

  “Ming knows what he’s doing,” Uncle agreed.

  “And you knew enough to invest in him.”

  “Yes, but we didn’t simply throw money at him or give him free rein. We were already buying from him, so we had a firm idea of his potential,” said Uncle. “Also, my partner Fong looks after most of the marketing and keeps an eye on Ming’s operations.”

  The hostess brought two Tsingtaos to the table. When she had left, Liu raised his bottle. “Here’s to us,” he said.

  Uncle nodded, took a swig, and said, “I hope you don’t mind if I ask you a few questions.”

  “No, not at all. I’m sure you must have a few.”

  “Thank you. To start, what did you mean when you said, ‘If this is going to work,’ and when you said you know more about my business affairs in Fanling than you thought I’d like?”

  “Which subject would you like me to deal with first?”

  “My business in Fanling.”

  Liu smiled. “When I met you at the restaurant and saw some of your colleagues, I didn’t think you looked like our typical Hong Kong investors, so I asked Peng about you. He was evasive, which heightened my interest enough for me to review your investment application file. I found that you had cobbled together an interesting array of small companies to get around the investment guidelines. At that point I called an old friend of mine who lives in Fanling and asked him about you,” Liu said, his smile broadening. “To my surprise, he knows you. In fact, he told me he knows you very well.”

  Where is he going with this? Uncle thought. “Fanling isn’t that large a town. Most businesspeople have crossed paths at least once.”

  “My friend isn’t in business,” Liu said.

>   “Mr. Director,” Uncle said softly, “I’m not good at guessing games, so it’s unlikely I’ll come up with the name of your friend without your help.”

  “I’ll give you a clue,” Liu said. “This friend told me you are the head of a very successful triad gang in Fanling. Could that be true?”

  “Triads are outlawed and banished from China and prosecuted and sometimes persecuted in Hong Kong. I am a businessman conducting legal business in Shenzhen and Fanling, nothing more than that,” Uncle said, more calmly than he felt.

  “Please, there’s no need to play games with me. My source is impeccable, and I wholly believe him. But frankly, I couldn’t care less about your triad involvement. I’m more concerned about what kind of businessman you are and whether I can trust you,” Liu said. “My source told me that you’re a very capable businessman, and that he would trust you with his life. That’s why you and I are having this conversation.”

  “Who is this source?”

  “I don’t think he would appreciate it if I shared that information with you. Is it enough to tell you that he is knowledgeable about both you and your business operations?”

  “No, it isn’t enough,” Uncle said. “Earlier you said we shouldn’t be secretive. I can be open, but that can’t cut one way.”

  “A point well made and taken,” Liu said, the middle finger of his right hand lightly stroking his moustache. “I spoke to Zhang Delun.”

  “Superintendent Zhang Delun, of the Hong Kong Police Force?” Uncle asked, hardly believing his ears. Zhang was his long-standing connection to the Hong Kong police, the man he went to when he needed help, the man to whom he’d promised there would be no drug dealing in Fanling. He and Uncle had been brought together as young men by Tian Longwei, and Tian was the only person who knew about their relationship.

  “Yes. He told me that you and he have been acquaintances for many years. He implied, but didn’t say directly, that the two of you have a mutually beneficial working relationship,” Liu said. “He has tremendous respect for you, Uncle. He said you are trustworthy, reliable, and know how to keep confidences — all characteristics that I’m looking for in a business partner.”

  “Zhang and I do know each other. He’s a fine man,” Uncle said, noting but letting pass Liu’s use of the word partner. “How did you come to know him?”

  “I attended university in Hong Kong for two years. He was a classmate. We became friends and have remained so.”

  Uncle drained his beer, lit a cigarette, and took a deep drag while he thought about Zhang and Liu. If the two men were friends, Liu couldn’t have a better recommendation. If they weren’t, why would Liu lie about it when it was something that could be so easily proven false? “I am triad,” Uncle said finally. “But the reason Zhang and I can co-operate is that he knows we don’t exploit people in Fanling. We don’t sell drugs. We don’t deal in extortion. We don’t operate brothels. We never embarrass him or the police.”

  “But you do manufacture and import illegal counterfeit clothing,” Liu said matter-of-factly.

  “Yes, and we sell the clothing at a night market we operate, to people who can’t afford the real thing,” Uncle said. “We also have off-track betting sites, some small casinos, a couple of restaurants, and several massage parlours. Not all of them are exactly legal, but Zhang has accepted that we’re providing services the public wants, and has left us alone.”

  “Do you pay him?”

  “No. He’s never asked and I’ve never offered. If either of us had, I think our relationship would have ended instantly. It’s based on trust, and the moment you put a price on trust, it disappears.”

  “I would like our partnership to operate in a similar manner,” Liu said. “Tell me, did you know that my wife and aunt started a brokerage business?”

  “No,” Uncle lied, baffled by the question.

  “Well, they did, but then I found out that their involvement wasn’t a secret. Peng knew, for example. I’m not sure how he found out, but he did, and he told enough people that it eventually got back to me. The instant it did, I had my wife and aunt quietly sell the business and remove themselves completely from any contact with it. You see, given my position, I need secrecy, and I need a partner whom I can trust completely — someone like you.”

  “I don’t understand what you mean when you refer to me as a partner.”

  “It is true that we haven’t ironed out the details yet.”

  “What details are you talking about? Why don’t you start with those and see where they lead,” Uncle said.

  “They aren’t complicated. The special economic zone affords us the opportunity to build businesses and provide security for our families. My position precludes my direct involvement and any overt involvement of my family, including my wife and aunt. We need a partner to help us get off the ground. The initial requirement is money.”

  “Money to do what?”

  “The initial thrust will be to build warehouses. There aren’t enough of them for the business that’s going to be done in Shenzhen,” Liu said. “There’ll be a huge need for warehouses for raw materials, for finished goods, and for anything in between. You build them and I’ll make sure they’re full.”

  Uncle didn’t have to ask how Liu would fill the warehouses. “My partners and I know nothing about building or managing warehouses.”

  “You don’t have to know anything. We’ll build them and manage them from behind the scenes. My wife and aunt are both competent businesspeople, but this time — with your help — we’ll make sure they remain invisible.”

  “So why do you need us?”

  “Besides the money, someone has to establish a business and apply for the appropriate permits.”

  “And assuming this had any interest for us, what would we get in return?”

  “Half the profits.”

  “When you say you’d manage from behind the scenes, does that include controlling the money?” Uncle asked softly.

  “We would want to have our fair share of input into how the money is spent and allocated, but we would have open books and we would expect you to provide banking support. Our names — directly or indirectly — would never appear anywhere on the bank documents, and I can also tell you that we would be extremely cautious in terms of withdrawing funds. Does that satisfy you?”

  “It sounds fine, but I still don’t fully understand why you’ve chosen us to partner with you.”

  “Uncle, you keep referring to us,” Liu said. “I know nothing of your colleagues. Do I need to be concerned about them?”

  “We are a brotherhood, so any decision I make has an impact on them and is judged by them. I don’t take my brothers for granted,” Uncle said. “But, that aside, you don’t need to know them or be concerned. They follow my lead.”

  Liu drained his beer and held the empty bottle in the air. Less than a moment later the hostess arrived at the table with two new bottles. Liu drank from his and then leaned towards Uncle. “Returning to your question about why I’ve chosen you to be our partner, we need to do business with someone who is reliable. As I mentioned earlier, Zhang made it clear that that’s one of your strengths.”

  “It was kind of him to say that.”

  “We also need a partner who has enough money to finance the construction of a large number of warehouses and whatever comes after,” Liu said. “Am I correct in assuming you have that capacity?”

  “We can finance — within reason — any project that makes sense to us.”

  “I thought that would be the case. So that leaves us with perhaps the most important quality we need in our partners: the ability to keep their mouths shut about our involvement. We need someone we can trust never to divulge our involvement. From what I know about the relationship between you and Zhang, I think you meet that criterion.”

  Uncle ran his index finger down the side of the be
er bottle as he digested Liu’s words. “Do you expect me to respond to that comment? It seems to me that we wouldn’t be having this conversation if you hadn’t already decided that we can be trusted.”

  Liu nodded. “You are correct. So, all that being acceptable, does this give you sufficient understanding?”

  “I have another question,” Uncle said abruptly.

  “I’m listening.”

  “I am inclined to pursue this conversation about a partnership, but I’d like to know what would happen if, after all our talk, I decided that the partnership wasn’t for us?”

  “There would be no animosity on my part, but you could forget about doing more business in the SEZ. And the business you have with Ming would be — how can I say it? — in peril.”

  “Ah,” Uncle said.

  “That outcome is simply a matter of practicality; it isn’t personal,” Liu said. “I can’t have someone who knows as much about me as you do operating in an ad hoc manner inside my territory. Regardless of what Zhang said about your trustworthiness, I wouldn’t sleep well. I’m sure you can understand that.”

  “Actually, I can.”

  “Excellent. So where does that leave us?”

  “It leaves me interested but in need of more detail,” Uncle said.

  Liu reached into his coat pocket and extracted several sheets of paper, which he passed to Uncle. “This details the cost of building one medium-sized warehouse and projects the income it can generate if it is fully utilized,” he said. “As you can see, it isn’t particularly expensive to build what is basically an empty structure. And another positive note is that it can be built quickly. We could be generating income in a matter of months.”

  Uncle scanned the pages quickly. “There’s no land cost mentioned.”

  “That’s because we don’t have to buy the land. The powers that run the zone have decided that creating the infrastructure necessary to support industrial expansion is of the highest priority. We’ll be given fifty-year leases on any vacant land we choose at rates we can build into our operating costs.”

  “Who do you mean when you say powers? Are you talking about Peng?”