The Dragon's Tale: A Jack Lauder Thriller

by Clive Hindle

  "Well, Amie dear," Diana replied to her, "How is life treating you, working in commerce?" Amie looked at the ground momentarily, knowing she was being put down.

  Jack breezed in quickly, "I've come to Hong Kong to see someone else you just happen to know.” He thought he was telling her news not history.

  "You mean my ex?" She reminded him tersely that she'd never had a problem calling a spade a spade.

  "Sorry. Your ex," he corrected himself with a faintly amused smile. In fairness, with Diana, there were many who could be included in the boyfriend category, not least himself, even if fleetingly.

  Chow indicated to them to sit down again and he positioned Diana on Jack’s right and Amie on his left. Diana's right leg slipped out of her dress as she sat down and she made no effort to cover it. She'd always had pins and Jack could see Amie’s discomfort. Diana was looking at him with her amazing blue eyes. The bleakness of winters in the Southern Ocean was in them. You could see albatrosses flying there; you expected an iceberg to heave into view. She knew the effect she had on men. She held him steadfastly in that gaze until he too felt uncomfortable. He was reminded of chess players who would gaze at you for long, solid minutes, trying to figure out from your body language if you were feinting or not.

  Jack was back there on that beach: it was midnight in the Lamma channel, he’d been to a dinner party where Diana was also a guest; she'd just split up from her husband, Patrick Lundy. He never did know the reason but Patrick could bore for the Commonwealth. Diana was a clever girl. She could speak a number of languages – not that she had qualifications, she just picked them up. The son of an old fashioned New Zealand banker, Patrick didn’t appreciate her ambition. He wanted her home, barefoot and pregnant, as training for the isolated fruit farm he was going to buy back home when he’d made his pile. She had other ideas; she wanted some fun out of life; and it was her quick wits and ability to talk on just about any level to his guests in whatever language they might speak, which made her the ideal person for K.K. Chow’s right-hand woman. By that time Patrick was history and she had to fend for herself.

  The night Jack was thinking back to she was making a play for one of the men at the party, teasing this bloke chronically. The victim was lapping it up, lusting for this beautiful creature who was giving him the impression he was the only male in the world for her - if he just said the word he could have it right there and then on the parquet floor, in front of the specially invited audience, including this bloke‘s partner. From his position of apparent disinterest, Jack saw the covert glances the man gave her and her robust eye-contact in response. Maybe he was a little jealous as he looked at this interplay. He was unattached. Diana’s response to him had always been about as welcoming as an iceberg’s. She was a country lass, fresh out of the Aussie outback but with an extraordinary zest for living and for the trappings of success. He had the impression she found his Englishness quaint. He figured, though, he was here so that both of them, the two partnerless ones, could meet. His Australian friends engaged in that kind of match-making. Perhaps Diana had rebelled against that. She had just got rid of a fuddy-duddy banker. The last thing she wanted was a stuffed-shirt lawyer. Ah, but she didn’t know him, or did she? Perhaps she recognised instinctively a serious person when she saw one. Perhaps that was why she issued her challenge to hang off the rails from the thirtieth floor and was so shocked when Jack accepted it.

  The night went on from there. Revelling in her new-found freedom and her power over the opposite sex, Diana got herself quite spectacularly drunk and a row developed between her would be paramour and his partner. She decided to make a grand exit and, as she flounced out, she fell on the floor, like someone slipping on a banana skin. For someone with her cool, that was a terrible thing to happen, and she stormed off out of the building, took the lift down and disappeared. Everyone was nonplussed and Jack, the only neutral, offered to go and check she was all right. When he got out into the night air, it was difficult to trace her at first, and then he saw a figure drifting across the paddy field on the path down to the bay. He shouted and a hand waved. He thought, she's all right anyway, and was going to leave it there, but it was a fine evening, ideal for a walk. The conversation had been getting stuffy upstairs and a lot of booze had been sunk, so he decided to take in some of the sea air. There was a breeze up over the channel and it cooled him through his white cotton shirt. After about five minutes walk, he got down to a little bay, looking across to Lamma island. Diana was standing there. She smiled, "Fancy a midnight swim?"

  He did a double-take but it only assured him that she was quite serious. "No bathers," he laughed.

  "You don't need togs.”

  The change in her voice was arresting, then she began an elaborate striptease in front of him, taking off each flimsy garment with exaggerated movements of her body, letting her hands run slowly over her limbs. She was facing him all the time, doing it for his benefit, enjoying his discomfort. She reached behind her and unclasped her bra, letting it fall over her arms, turning tantalisingly away at the same time so that her breasts were hidden from his eyes like forbidden fruit. She walked to the water margin in the moonlight. A shimmy of her hips and she was stepping out of her pants as well. She stood there long enough to let Jack gaze at the perfect hemispheres. She was looking back and smiling. "You're very cool you Poms," she said, "an Aussie wouldn‘t stand on ceremony.” She laughed and slid below the surface, swimming in the clear water, her head just above, the whiteness of her body just visible beneath. It shimmered hazily. "Come on!" she exclaimed, "stop being so bloody British, come for a swim, it'll do you good."

  What the hell, he thought, and began to take off his clothes. She laughed encouragingly. She wanted him to get everything off but he was too shy for that. Moments later, he splashed out to meet her, wearing only boxers. She laughed at his modesty. Within seconds they were splashing each other, swimming up and down. She ducked under the water, swum like a fish beneath him and pulled down his shorts. He made the feeblest of protests, as if it was something he didn't want, but she wasn't having any. She surfaced again, her hair wet and her ice blue eyes streaming. "It's your lucky day," she said, "do you go down the Wanch, Jack? Do you like their tight little asses? I bet you get fed up with it! I bet you’d kill for some white silk!" She swam away. He caught her at a sandy island in the channel. It was simply coincidental that a wave brought him right in behind her and those two firm hemispheres nestled in his groin.

  Now, in the Club Volvo, Jack looked into those blue eyes again and he knew exactly what she was thinking: they had unfinished business. But he was with Amie. The evening went well enough. He was conscious of some sword fencing on K.K. Chow’s part but he steered clear of the subject of Gerry Montrose. On their way back to the taxi rank, Amie mentioned how withdrawn he’d become. "I really like you, Jack," she said, "you're different from most of the Gwai los."

  "I feel the same way about you too," he replied, "you're different from most of the Gwai los too." Even though he'd tried to defuse the moment by making a joke of it, he felt the static as her hand touched his.

  “Not tonight,” she said, “I have to think about this.”

  “Tomorrow then?”

  “Okay. I am not working tomorrow. What would you like to do?”

  There was an answer to that but he thought it best not to go there. “I’d like to go up the Peak,” he replied after a few moments’ thought.

  “Great! Let’s meet at the Peak café then.”

  He was disappointed by her distancing herself; she wanted to meet in a public place. In truth the evening had him really worked up and he wanted her to come home with him, but it was pointless, she usually said what she meant. Then the moment was gone and she waved as she got into one of the waiting taxis and there was another behind pulling up for him. Reluctantly, wondering why he didn’t just tell the driver to follow hers so he could at least say what was on his mind, he took the taxi back to the flat, his mind in turmoil. He remembered
Diana and that night on the beach. You don’t forget the sheer unadulterated joy of something like that, something so free and so spontaneous. The delights of Amie hadn’t entirely quenched that flame.

  He arrived back at the flat, reflecting that he felt less apprehensive now K.K. Chow was on the case. He had a shower and went straight to bed. A knock on the door made him stiffen suddenly but then his fear changed to hope that Amie had changed her mind. He was surprised when he threw the door open: Diana was standing there. "Surprise, surprise, the night’s still young!” Her eyes were wide as she looked for his reaction. On the ground next to her was a bucket of ice and champagne.

  “How did you know I was here?” He didn’t want to show concern but it was hard to hide.

  She looked at him as if he was an idiot, “K.K. Chow told me.” She didn’t explain how he knew. She probably thought Jack had told him.

  "Haven’t we had enough?" Jack pointed at the booze.

  "We’re the same, you and I, Jack. We've never had enough!" She had always been so sure of herself. She started to pour the champagne while Jack sized her up. A little heavier than she had been those years ago, but, if anything, that had added to her attractiveness. She might not be as young as those girls who worked in the nightclub but there is something more sexually attractive about a mature woman. He wondered what he would say if it was offered on a plate. Would he have the strength of mind to say no, particularly now he and Amie might become an item? Or were they? Was she telling him something discreetly? He remembered to keep his cool with Diana, that he wanted to be the one posing the questions and said, "What happened to you?"

  "What do you mean?" She handed him a glass.

  "You know exactly what I mean, you just disappeared off the face of the earth. We swim to the beach, go back to the party as if nothing happened, I try and get in touch with you, and you just piss off. Back to Australia. Not a word."

  "Jack, that was ten years ago! Don’t tell me you’ve carried that sack round with you ever since!”

  “Maybe I have. Is there an answer?”

  “I took a vacation," she said. "It wouldn’t have worked. No way did I fancy going off with you to dreary old Angleterre and let’s face it, you were going nowhere else. Demi-paradise? No thanks!”

  “Simple as that. You should have said. Maybe I’d have stayed?”

  “Don’t be stupid. Jack. You got what you wanted, no strings attached, so did I. That's the way it was. It was the right thing. We came from different worlds. It was okay for them to collide … in fact," and she laughed her throaty laugh, "it was bloody fantastic the one time they did. Fancy going double or quits?"

  "Don't kid yourself! I'm not interested."

  “Oh, no?” She let the cheong sam slip straight to the floor and there she was in front of him with her magnificent body. Despite himself, he felt everything tightening. “Sure?” she asked,.looking coquettishly over her shoulder.

  “Diana, level with me, why did you come here?” He handed her the cheong-sam. It was hard; he really wanted her, but it had to be done. She looked surprised.

  “Oh, okay, if you insist on business before pleasure. So when did you last see Gerry then?”

  Jack looked at her suspiciously. “I haven’t. What makes you ask?”

  “Nothing. I just wondered.”

  “What he’d left with me?”

  She shrugged, trying to play it cool, “No. Well, okay, I guess there’s been some speculation.”

  “Diana, did you come here just to get the information your boss didn’t dare ask for?” There was a certain menace in his tone, which, unfortunately, she totally missed.

  “Well, you could save yourself an awful lot of hassle if you just come clean. You can tell me, you know?”

  “Oh yeah, sure, and it goes straight to K.K. Chow! Is that who sent you? Nice one, Diana!” Jack took her arm and led her to the door.

  “What are you doing?” At the door he couldn’t resist a squeeze of her shapely bottom as he eased her out. It felt good. He did want her. “Well let me get dressed for Christ’s sake!” she shouted.

  “Why deprive Repulse Bay of that view?” He was laughing now.

  “You know you still want it!” she snarled.

  “You’re like a rich diet, Diana, what you want isn’t always good for you!”

  “You stupid idiot! Do you think I’d soil myself like this if K.K. Chow hadn’t asked me too?” In her humiliation she’d come out with the truth.

  “So he wants to know what Gerry left me, does he? Tough! You weren’t the right interrogator, lady!”

  “You think you’re safe, just because the famous Mr. Ma forced K.K. Chow to call the dogs off. You think again!” So that was the truth of it? He had been in the company of the man who had set this up and an even more powerful one had stepped in to prevent it.

  Her nipples were standing erect in the night air. “Piss off Diana!” He said it because he was feeling very sorely tempted to change his mind! He closed the door. Still, he thought, it maybe wasn’t a good idea to let her think he did know something but he hadn’t been able to resist it. He breathed out audibly, wondering how he did that, how he’d kicked her out? He felt strangely at ease with himself. He still had the champagne too. He got up on impulse and opened the door. She was still standing there, her Cheong-sam back on now, her mobile phone pressed to her ear. She looked at him, sort of pleading. He thrust the ice bucket at her but without the champagne. “This’ll keep you warm.”

  CHAPTER 5

  The next morning Graham Witherspoon rang. Jack groaned in reply to the Australian’s jovial, “Good day mate.” Quick as a flash the brash Queenslander picked up the vibe and added, “tie one down last night?" It occurred to Jack that Graham could very easily have him under surveillance, for his own protection if nothing else. "I was just ringing to let you know your man has definitely gone to Manila.” Graham didn't seem impressed when Jack named the first person to give him the same information in the last twenty-four hours. “You’re keeping bad company, sport. But your man’s got friends in the north and that opens doors everywhere. Anyway about Gerry, he was last in Manila, staying at The American.”

  “The American? Is that a hotel?”

  “Some call it that. It’s a sleazy joint. He's probably doing all the tacky bits: Olongapo, Angeles City and all that stuff you single blokes do!” He laughed uneasily at the words. “You know,” Graham continued, “I’d like to know what those guys want with you.” That jogged his memory and this time it was of what Mr. Ma had said – there could be something there in his subconscious which even he wasn’t aware of. Even Graham was fishing so he cut short their talk by saying he was going for a swim. He didn’t know what had made him think of Ma but maybe it was because he’d thought of telephoning Amie on his Tri-band to tell her not to leave for their date up the Peak too early but he remembered she’d said she wasn’t working today. He didn’t know her number in Mei Foo Sun Chuen and he now recalled that address, that massive block of apartments on Kowloon side, connected her with Ma.

  Mei Foo had played a significant part in his discovering that the wealthy Chinese businessman had been framed. One of the reasons the Narcotic Bureau latched on to Ma back then was because he kept an apartment in the Mei Foo complex. It wasn’t really his own place, it was more a bolt-hole, the home of his tsai and her children. In common with a lot of Hong Kong grandees, Mr. Ma wasn’t faithful to one woman: he had the usual wife, a tsai (a kind of unmarried or common law wife), a tsip (a lady of legal but lesser status than a tsai) and numerous concubines. The coincidence of the morphine factory’s situation in Mei Foo guaranteed Ma’s downfall. But that was the point, it was a fit up: the factory was never in Ma’s flat.

  Mei Foo was built in four monolithic towers with a central lift system feeding all the radiating spurs. The accomplice witness was a small-time drug courier called Chiu Chat-yam. Previously employed by the gang he had now turned Queen‘s Evidence. During the course of leading the police to the
location of the factory, he picked the tsai’s flat and, when the forensic boys appeared on the scene, they found morphine powder everywhere – in the ventilation system, beneath the floorboards, on the wall. Judging by the traces and the Government scientist’s testimony, there must have been millions of dollars of no. 4 heroin in those premises.

  So a simple mistake all but ruined Ma’s life. The butt was Jack. Something about the theory didn’t quite fit. Why would someone as influential as Ma risk having a factory in a flat occupied by his favourite? Why would he put her and the kids at risk like that? He looked bang to rights but, much to the annoyance of His Honour Judge Rory O’ Connor QC, who would have hanged more men than Judge Jeffries if he‘d been born in a different time, and to the delight of Philip Chan, the QC acting for the accused, Jack accepted his challenge of a re-enactment of the visit. He didn’t have to; the judge couldn’t understand it; the Narcotics Bureau were incandescent; questions were asked by his own Law Officers; Gerry Montrose voiced his disapproval but he stuck to his guns: what harm can it do, he argued? On this second occasion, however, Chiu didn’t stop at Ma’s flat. He went through the arch into the adjacent block, claiming he’d been chasing the dragon just before his first view, hence the error. The forensic boys, this time, carried out their examination under scrutiny and found traces of morphine powder and no. 4 in the apartment in the next block. It had been used as a factory. When a check of the deeds revealed that a previous tenant had been one of the two drug chemists in the trial, Ma was discharged from the indictment.