The Red Pole of Macau

by Ian Hamilton

  “How did they get you back? Not on the jetfoil.”

  “No, they drove me. They put me in the trunk of a car and then we drove for close to three hours.”

  “They brought you in through Guangzhou.”

  “I have no idea.”

  “Where did they drop you off?”

  “Here, about a hundred metres from the building. They pulled me out of the trunk, untied my hands, and told me to count to thirty before taking off the blindfold. And then someone — I think it was Wu but I was so out of it I can’t be sure — said that they knew where I lived and that if I didn’t come up with the money, Simon was dead and they knew where to find me.”

  The kitchen went silent. Amanda put her arms around Michael. Ava got up and walked to the living-room window. It was early afternoon on a beautiful Hong Kong day. She looked down and watched people going about their normal routines, and then she went back into the kitchen.

  “Before you say anything, we can’t call the police,” she started. “They will know if you do, and they will most certainly kill Simon.”

  “Are you sure?” Michael asked.

  “Listen to her,” Amanda said.

  “We also can’t discuss this with the family — I mean, families. Not a word to Daddy, not a word to your brothers. And, Amanda, keep your family out of it as well.”

  She nodded.

  “Now what about Jessie? Have you heard from her?”

  “No, but I imagine I will,” Amanda said.

  “Simon is a Macau regular,” Michael said. “He has pulled all-nighters there before.”

  “That’ll get us through today, but not much longer,” Ava said. “Amanda, I think we need to visit Jessie. She needs to know what’s going on, and she needs to know that she has to keep quiet.”

  “Tell me what you want me to do.”

  “I have to figure out what I’m going to do first.”

  ( 9 )

  Uncle didn’t answer his apartment phone, and his long-time housekeeper, Lourdes, said she didn’t know where he was. Ava called his cell and it went to voicemail. “I need to talk. It’s urgent,” she said, and then called Sonny.

  “I need Uncle,” she said when he picked up.

  “He’s in a meeting.”

  “Where are you?”

  “Hong Kong side. He’s at the Korean barbecue restaurant just up the street from your hotel.”

  “Please ask him not to leave until I get there.”

  She looked at her brother and Amanda. He was spent, exhausted. “You need to sleep. Take some pills if you have to, but get some sleep.”

  Amanda seemed better; the tears had dried up and she had a look of determination in her eyes. Ava couldn’t help noticing how tiny she was, maybe pushing five feet without her stilettos, and she couldn’t have weighed a hundred pounds. Without any makeup she looked even more like a teenager. Still, there was something to her, a strength. “Look after him. I’ll call when I know something,” Ava said.

  “Don’t worry,” Amanda said.

  Ava walked to the restaurant, her sense of urgency balanced by the need for time to think. The first thing she had to do was get over her anger at the stupidity of the two men she’d actually considered going into business with. How could they have imagined, for even a second, that Lok was being sincere? How could they think that in the few hours between the rancour of the lunch and early evening his attitude could be so completely transformed? How could they believe that Wu would so quickly forgive his broken arm?

  Part of it is my fault, she thought. If she had called Michael after her meeting with Uncle and relayed the results of his conversation with Lok, he would have known for certain that there was no chance of reconciliation. She had played things too close to her chest, as was her habit, controlling the flow of information, playing God in her own little way. Shit, she thought. Now what?

  There was no car outside the Korean barbecue place, just Sonny leaning against the wall, his eyes flitting in all directions, his vigilance a habit he couldn’t shake despite the fact that it was no longer so necessary. He saw Ava the moment she came into view, then stood straight and turned to face her. When she first met him, he had worn nothing but jeans and tight T-shirts that showed off a rock-hard body decorated with tattoos. The years with Uncle had mellowed him.

  “Uncle says you should go right in,” he said.

  He was sitting at a table in the back with two men she recognized from previous lunches. They were old comrades, now retired, and they met regularly to discuss the state of the world. None of the men stood as she approached, instead offering small smiles and nodding heads. “Lang lei,” one of them said.

  Ava sat and Uncle poured her a cup of jasmine tea. There was no need for introductions. She sat quietly at the table as the men continued their conversation. They had long since finished eating, the last empty platters still on the table, the barbecue grill coated with remnants of meat and sauce. Finally one of them called for the bill, only to be told by Uncle that it was his turn to pay. Then everyone stood and there was a round of handshakes. The men made arrangements to meet the next week at a Shandong restaurant on the Kowloon side.

  Uncle didn’t sit down until his friends had left the restaurant. Then he looked at Ava and said, “What has happened?”

  She calmly repeated Michael’s story. When she was done, he shook his head in resignation. “How stupid can they be?”

  “They run noodle shops and 7-Elevens,” she said.

  “Over lunch I told Uncle Fong that Lok was causing a friend of mine some trouble. He knows Lok from before; he says he can be crazy. It was useful when he was a 49er, a fighter. He is smart, of course, and moved up in his society, but the craziness made him unfit to be anything but a Red Pole. Uncle Fong said a man like Lok should never have the autonomy he has.”

  Ava had listened more than once to the old men complaining about the deterioration within the Three Harmonies Society — the unity between Heaven, Earth, and Man — and how the thirty-six traditional oaths had no meaning anymore. When the triads fought these days, it was normally against each other. They were more of a threat to themselves than the police. Ava didn’t feel like listening to another monologue on the good old days, even from Uncle. “What can I do?” she asked.

  He poured more tea. “Nothing,” he said.

  “That’s not possible.”

  “It is practical, and you are a practical girl.”

  “If we pay a ransom?”

  “They will kill him, if he is not dead already.”

  “You seem so sure.”

  “Your brother’s partner will die whether you pay the ransom or not. That is how these people operate. You asked for my advice, there it is.”

  “How about the threats to my brother?”

  “They want to scare him into paying, probably nothing more than that.”

  “They told Michael not to go to the police, that they would know if he did. How much truth is there to that?”

  “Lok has been in Macau a long time, and as far as I know he has never spent an hour in jail, never had a single charge laid against him. This is a man who ran moneylenders, whorehouses, did some drug dealing, and when he got bored he would hire out himself and his men for contract killing — all rather visible and sometimes violent activities. What does that tell you about his relationship with the Macau police?”

  “I thought there had been a crackdown there, that the police had cleaned things up.”

  “They negotiated a truce, that is all. The government was worried about the bad publicity the territory was getting from crimes no one could ignore, crimes that made the front pages of all the newspapers — like the lawyer getting gunned down at the front door of the Grand Hyatt, the drive-by shootings, the gangs shooting at each other in broad daylight in the old town and killing two children who were walking home fr
om school. So they sat down with the gangs and worked out a treaty to accommodate the new, Vegas-style Macau. The moneylenders disappeared from the casinos, the guns were put away, and everything else was prettied up, but it kept on going. And the gangs of course found new ways to generate income, such as Lok’s revolving land deals, and you know that a percentage of every dollar finds its way to some police retirement fund.”

  “You make them sound like business partners.”

  “They are.”

  “But this is a kidnapping, Uncle, not some victimless crime.”

  “How many kidnappings are there in Macau every year? Ten, twenty, thirty, I do not know. But I do know that it has been the time-honoured way to collect debts in Macau. In the old days the moneylenders would book a client into a hotel room with a guard and leave him there until his family squared the account, and I still hear about business squabbles getting resolved that way. The police would say thank you for informing them about the kidnapping, file a report somewhere, and then call Lok to tell him and have a laugh about the idiot who did not understand how Macau works.”

  Ava felt her face flush. Uncle wasn’t often so categorical, and his use of the word idiot stung. “So I do nothing,” she said quietly.

  “Nothing,” he said.

  She finally sipped some tea. It had gone cold. She tipped it into one of the empty bowls and held out her cup for Uncle to pour some warm tea.

  “They’re holding him somewhere in Macau, of that I’m sure. Could you find out for me what properties Lok has, where he lives?”

  Uncle sighed. “I could, but I do not want to.”

  “If you don’t, I’ll find someone who will.”

  “Ava, please —”

  “No, Uncle, I have to do at least that much. I have to find out what I can. It may come to nothing — just as you wish — or it may not.”

  He seemed to sink into his chair, becoming as small as a child. Ava could see his mind turning things over and knew that he couldn’t deny her.

  “There are two things you need to do right away,” he finally said. “You need to confirm that the partner is still alive. Have your brother call them and tell them he needs proof. If they will not do that, he is already dead. If he is alive, you need to buy more time. Your brother should tell them that he is willing to pay the ransom but he needs time to get the money together. Ask for a week. If they will not budge even a little, then it means they probably have no interest in the money anyway.”

  “I can’t see them accepting a week.”

  “Your brother has to negotiate. Anything more than the two days he has been given is a plus. And if this were a normal kidnapping and ransom, I would tell him to negotiate the money as well. In this case I would not do that. It would be a waste of time and just aggravate them.”

  “Okay, we’ll do that as soon as I leave here.”

  “And I will make some calls,” he said. “I do not want to, but I will.”

  “Thank you.”

  They walked from the restaurant together, his arm through hers. He was doing that more often these days, and she wasn’t sure why.

  “Where does your brother live?”

  “Mid-levels,” she said, pointing up towards the Peak.

  “Shall we give you a ride?”

  “No, I’d rather walk. The day is so beautiful, and I need to organize my thoughts.”

  ( 10 )

  The doorman let her enter the building without hesitation, and Ava made a mental note to have Amanda instruct him not to let anyone in without her or Michael’s specific approval. She checked her watch. Her brother had been resting for about an hour and a half. It would have to do.

  After she rang the apartment buzzer, Ava saw Amanda’s eye through the peephole. The door opened and there was the Amanda from the evening at Sai Kung — designer jeans, cashmere sweater, and lots of makeup.

  “How is my brother?” Ava asked.

  “Sleeping.”

  “You need to wake him.”

  “He just fell asleep.”

  “It doesn’t matter, I need him to do something. When it’s done, he can go back to sleep.”

  Ava went into the kitchen while Amanda went to wake Michael. There was an empty instant noodles bowl and a package of rice crackers on the table. Ava guessed Amanda wasn’t much of a cook, but then neither was she.

  It took five minutes to get him out of bed, into a robe, and out to the kitchen. His face was creased with sleep, his hair out of control, his eyes puffy. “Wash your face in the sink and grab a glass of water,” Ava told him. “You need to make a phone call.”

  She watched and waited until he looked like he could manage some comprehension. “Michael, I want you to call Lok. Do you think you’re up to it?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “It isn’t complicated and you don’t have to pretend anything.”

  Amanda stood behind him, her hands resting on his shoulders. “What does he have to say?”

  “We need to confirm that Simon is all right.”

  “Is that all?”

  “For now.”

  “How would Michael do that?”

  “He could ask to speak to Simon, but I don’t think they would let him. The best thing is to ask them to take a photo of Simon holding up the front page of today’s South China Morning Post. Then ask them to email it to him.”

  “Why would they agree?” Amanda asked.

  “Michael is going to start the conversation by telling them he’s going to pay them what they’re asking for.”

  He looked up at her. “Ava, how the hell are we going to do that?”

  “One thing at a time,” she said to both of them. “We need to do one thing at a time, not get ahead of ourselves. And right now that one thing is to find out if Simon is okay. Can you make the call?”

  “Sure,” he said.

  “Good. Now I want you to talk to Lok, no one else.”

  “His is the only number I have.”

  “Don’t try to chit-chat. You don’t need to be anything but direct. Tell him you’re prepared to get the money together but you need to be one hundred percent sure that Simon is fine.”

  “What if he refuses?”

  “No confirmation, no money.”

  “They’ll kill Simon,” Michael said, panic returning to his voice.

  “If they refuse he’s probably dead already,” Ava said, wishing he hadn’t made her state the obvious.

  Michael shivered. Ava knew he was tired and still a bit in shock. “The money — how do we manage the money?” he asked.

  “One thing at a time,” Ava repeated.

  “What if Lok asks me about it?”

  “Tell him you’re going to get it but you’re not prepared to go into detail until you know about Simon.”

  “What if he insists?”

  Ava found herself losing patience. “Geez, Michael, insist right back. You’re negotiating, not capitulating.”

  “If Lok is truly interested in getting the money he’ll do what you want,” Amanda interrupted.

  “Okay,” he said.

  “Get Michael’s cell,” Ava said to Amanda.

  As she walked towards the bedroom Ava said to her brother, “She’s a good girl.” He nodded.

  When Amanda returned, Ava took the phone from her. “Where’s the number?”

  “It’s programmed into my phone,” Michael said.

  Ava found it and hit the call button and the speaker phone button. “Remember, keep it simple. Don’t get sidetracked. We only want one thing.”

  The phone rang four times before it was answered. It wasn’t Lok on the other end. “This is Michael Lee. I want to speak to Kao Lok,” he said. Nothing was said in reply, and Ava half expected the line to go dead. Instead she heard Lok’s familiar voice.

  “Lee,
I’m glad you called.”

  “We’re prepared to pay the ransom, but —”

  “It isn’t a ransom. It’s the money you owe us.”

  “We’re prepared to pay you the money we owe,” Michael said, not missing a beat, “but we need to know that Simon is safe.”

  Lok hesitated, and Ava knew he was surprised. He didn’t believe Michael could come up with the money, she thought, and now he’s reworking whatever plan he had. “When will you pay?”

  “I’m not going to talk about the money until I know he’s safe.”

  “I gave you forty-eight hours, remember?”

  “Unless I know Simon is well there will be no money. None.”

  “Can you get it all?”

  “We’re prepared to pay the money we owe.”

  “On time?”

  “Lok, I’m not saying anything else until I know about Simon.”

  There was a long pause. Ava thought, Simon is dead and Lok is trying to figure what he can get away with. Then Lok said, “Okay, I understand your position. What is it you want?”

  “A photo of Simon with the front page of today’s South China Morning Post. I want you to use a digital camera and email it to me.”

  There was another pause and Ava waited for Lok to say no. Instead he said, “And then?”

  “Then we’ll talk some more,” Michael said.

  “You’ll have the photo within the next two or three hours,” Lok said.

  “Fine,” Michael said, and before he could add another word, Ava reached over and turned off the phone.

  “Why did you do that?” he asked.

  “We had what we wanted; there was nothing more to be said. We had to show him that we have some level of control, that this isn’t all one-sided. Now he’ll send the photo or he won’t,” she said. “And by the way, you were great.”

  Amanda put her arms around his neck, pulled him against her chest, and kissed the top of his head.

  “Take him back to bed,” Ava said.

  Michael struggled to his feet, his eyes half closed. Given his emotional state, Ava was surprised he had done as well as he had. Amanda seemed composed as she walked her boyfriend to the bedroom with her left arm around his waist and her right hand clutching his right elbow. She talked as she walked, Michael nodding his head at whatever she was saying.