Chasing the Dragon: a story of love, redemption and the Chinese triads (Opium Book 2)

by Colin Falconer

  “That scar. Does it have anything to do with your spiritual crisis?”

  He leaned on her desk. “There's a Chinese saying I picked up since I been here: Wait long enough by the river and the bodies of your enemies will float past. Well, since I've been here, I've thought that maybe I’ve still got it in me to swim back up that river, find my enemy, rip out his heart, throw him in the river myself then catch the next cab down to the bridge and watch him float past all over again.”

  “Sounds like a plan.”

  “Long time since I had one of those.”

  It had been hard to concentrate on her paperwork before he came in; afterwards he left, it was impossible. She was glad John Keelan had his mojo back, she was looking forward to seeing it in action. She still suspected that perhaps they had some unfinished business.

  ***

  By the time the warrants for Eddie Lau and Vincent Tse were signed, both men were aboard a Dragon Air flight to Guanzhou. By seven o'clock that evening they were installed in the Century Plaza Hotel in Shenzhen, on the other side of the border.

  Later that same evening Ruby Wen booked herself onto the first class section of a Cathay Pacific flight to Bangkok. It was business as usual.

  The flight was routed north to avoid a tropical storm. Ruby was drinking champagne when they passed out over the poppy fields of Laos far below. During the night the sap oozed from the scored pods and congealed in the cool air like black jelly. There would be another opium harvest soon, morphine for the cooks waiting in their bamboo pharmacies deep in the lawless jungle.

  Chapter 45

  Lumpini Boxing Stadium

  Bangkok

  THE two boxers circled each other, barefoot, darting in and out to deliver blows with their feet. Their lean brown bodies glistened with sweat. The gongs and drums rose to a crescendo, but neither boxer gained the upper hand. To Ruby, it seemed less a blood sport than a test of physical endurance. She had bet ten thousand baht on the boy in the blue silk shorts, a handsome and well-muscled young man, using sexual potential as her form guide.

  At the end of the round she looked up and saw a group of well-dressed men moving through the wooden stands towards her. She recognized one of them, a jovial and smooth-skinned Thai. It was Louis Huu.

  He sat down and his bodyguards took up their positions around him on the hard wooden benches. “Ruby-ah, he beamed. “This is very great surprise to see you in Bangkok.”

  He followed me here tonight, she thought. He has probably had me followed ever since I arrived in Bangkok. Maybe because my boyfriend still owes him three million for that drug deal I stole.

  “You are lucky?” he said.

  “I choose the one in the blue shorts,” she said, 'but I think he is going to lose.”

  “Bet on horse, bet on bird, never bet on people. Can never trust people! What are you doing in Bangkok, Ruby-ah?”

  “A little business.”

  “Business for Eddie Lau?”

  “Do business for a lot of people.”

  His demeanor changed abruptly. “Where is he?” he hissed at her.

  Ruby felt a stab of fear. Told Eddie this would happen! Louis Huu had his muscle all around her, could kill her right here if they wanted, no one to help Ruby Wen in Bangkok.

  “Do not know where he is. Swear you, this is the truth.”

  Louis Huu laughed, unexpectedly. “Ruby Wen not know the truth if it has a neon sign over it.” He sighed, puffing out his cheeks. “I got a lot of friends in this place, Ruby-ah. How many friends you got? '

  “Good to have a lot of friends.”

  “Yes, good to have friend. Most of all, good to have friend like me. But you will not have me for friend if you do not tell me where I will find Eddie Lau.” He leaned closer. She could smell his breath; lemongrass, brandy, rich tobacco. “Hear you owe a lot of money in Hong Kong.”

  Ruby felt the blood drain from her cheeks. Of course he would know about her gambling debts; Louis Huu knew everything.

  The drums and cymbals started up again as the two boxers made their way back into the ring. Louis Huu stood up and nodded to his bodyguards. Ruby watched him leave with a mixture of dread and relief.

  Not safe in Hong Kong, not safe in Bangkok. What was she going to do?

  Chapter 46

  Rajprarop Road was a screeching, chaotic tangle of tuk-tuks, lorries, buses and Japanese cars. The air was green and sulfurous and heat rose from the asphalt in shimmering waves.

  A European in a linen suit double-parked a brown Toyota twenty meters from the Indra Regent. He took the key from the ignition and taped it, as pre-arranged, under the dashboard. Then he got out and went to the corner near the Baiyoke Tower. He took a mobile phone from his pocket and punched in a number. It was answered on the first ring. He read the Toyota's registration number, repeated it, and ended the call.

  A few moments later Ruby Wen emerged from the foyer of the hotel. She looked up and down the street, saw the Toyota, and checked the registration number against the number she had written on the reverse of a business card. Then she crossed the street, got in, and started the engine. She made a U-turn through the traffic; a taxi braked, its tires squealing, the driver punching the horn. She headed back towards Ploenchit Road.

  She did not see the Kawasaki motor cycle that pulled into the traffic behind her.

  ***

  RUBY turned off Petchaburi Road and into the underground car park of a commercial high rise. She parked the Toyota in one of the bays, and got out, the heels of her leather pumps echoing on the concrete. A car on the other side of the car park turned on its headlights and men in khaki uniforms jumped out pointing handguns at her face. One of them grabbed her, pushed her over the bonnet of the Toyota, and forced handcuffs on her wrists.

  A man in a dark suit took her car keys and opened the boot. He pulled out the suitcase and snapped open the locks. Inside were ten clear plastic bags of white powder stamped with the Double U-O Globe tiger brand.

  “Bring her,” he said and they dragged her towards the other car.

  Relax, Ruby told herself. Her contact would get her out of this. She just had to keep her wits about her; and above all, keep quiet.

  Chapter 47

  THE Narcotics Suppression Centre was a sprawl of dilapidated wooden barracks in the heart of Chinatown. Uniformed officers led her through the labyrinth of smoky corridors and dingy cubicles. She saw policemen in shirtsleeves hunched over ancient Remington typewriters or sitting at tables, sprawled around playing cards. She was pushed into a drab office and onto a wooden chair. Inside, it was cramped and stinking hot.

  She looked around; a grey metal desk, cluttered with papers and cardboard files, and a greasy black museum-piece telephone. Metal filing cabinets had been pushed against the walls. The overhead fan appeared to be broken.

  The policeman in the dark suit came in and slammed the briefcase on the table. Several of the cardboard files slid to the floor. He snapped open the locks, threw open the lid and lined the packets of heroin on the desk in front of her.

  “My name is Colonel Poonsiri Ramawong,” he said, in English. He leaned both hands on the table and brought his face close to hers. “Unless you co-operate I am going to make sure you get the death penalty.”

  More plain-clothed police squeezed into the room. Ruby squirmed in the chair. “Take off handcuffs, okay,” Ruby said. “Cannot feel my fingers.”

  “Confess to me you are trying to smuggle these drugs to the United States and things will be better for you.”

  If she was not so frightened Ruby could have laughed in his face. She had heard policemen say some really stupid things in her life, but this would have to be a world record.

  “Not know anything about this, heya.”

  “Seven kilos of heroin in your car! Better for you if you admit you are guilty right now.”

  “Drive this car for a friend. Just rental car, can see the sticker for yourself on rear window, unless you are really blind. Friend say me to pick
up this car for him. Don't know anything about briefcase. Perhaps it is already there, or perhaps some policeman put it there.”

  Colonel Ramawong was not pleased with this answer. He leaned even closer. She could smell the spices on his breath from his lunch. “Right now I can invoke article Twenty Seven. You know what that is, Miss Wen? Means we don't need you to confess, because there will not be a trial. We will just take you out and shoot you.”

  So hot in here! Her blouse was sticking to her back with the sweat. It's okay, she thought. You have been in tough squeeze like this before, you always find a way out. “Got friend in Bangkok pay you lot of money to let me go,” she whispered.

  The colonel jerked his head towards the door and one by one the other policemen filed out of the room. Ruby heard the door click shut behind them. They were alone.

  “How much you want?” Ruby said.

  The colonel shook his head. “Cannot help you. Americans are watching us very closely this time. You must admit you are guilty.”

  “Must talk to my friend about this.”

  He shook his head. “No help for you here. We are going to ask for execution under Article Twenty Seven, as soon as possible.”

  Ruby thought she was going to vomit. Execution? What was this bullshit he was talking?

  The thought occurred to her; what if the Colonel was telling the truth, that he was really being pressured by the American DEA like he said? “Want to speak to Kee-lan.”

  “Who is this person?”

  “He is DEA agent in Hong Kong. I am his CI.” She looked the colonel right in the eye, the best thing to do when you told an outright lie.

  “Tell me his name again.”

  “Kee-lan. John Kee-lan. Is good friend, okay? I work for him!”

  Colonel Ramawong went to the door and called two policemen into the room. “Take her away,” he said.

  Maha Chai

  Ruby saw the forbidding iron gates through the grimy windows of the police van, silhouetted against a scorched evening sky. The driver sounded his horn, the gates swung open and they drove through.

  The first courtyard did not look like a prison at all; there was a huge covered market, a jumble of food stalls and traders. Beyond that, there was another pair of wooden gates. She saw uniformed guards on the towers, cradling ancient carbines.

  Her fellow prisoners were all Thais, mostly addicts with red eyes and runny noses, stinking of sweat and filth. They stared at her expensive clothes with a mixture of awe and hate.

  This cannot be happening to me, Ruby thought. Only happens to street dealers, small time people. Not to Ruby Wen.

  ***

  She was photographed, and her fingerprints taken. Then they took her into a small, windowless room. The door clanged shut behind her.

  There were three women guards. One of them had three stripes on her shirt sleeve, the sergeant; she was a round-faced Thai, squat and powerful as a wrestler. She took in Ruby's nappa leather skirt and Nina Ricci blouse and grinned.

  “Strip,” she said.

  Ruby swore at her in Cantonese, Thai, and for good measure, English, and spat on the concrete floor.

  She did not see the blow coming. Suddenly she was on the floor, all the breath gone out of her. She brought her knees up to her chest and tried to drag some air into her lungs.

  “Strip,” the sergeant repeated.

  The other two guards hauled her to her feet. Ruby could not straighten up, the pain was so bad. If there had been anything in her stomach she would have had the vomiting it all over the sergeant's shoes.

  “We could strip you ourselves,” one of the guards said, “but it would be a shame to tear your fancy clothes.”

  Ruby took off her blouse and skirt. The women made admiring noises when they saw her white lace underwear. The sergeant looped her fingers under the gold chain at her throat and tugged. It broke easily.

  She examined the diamond pendant and smiled. “I'll look after this. Safekeeping.” She held out her hand. “Now your watch.”

  Her watch was from Chopard of Geneva, diamond-studded, with heart-shaped rubies in the shape of a bow below the face.

  “Want me to take it off?” the sergeant said.

  Fat little peasant bitch! Ruby thought. I will chop you down, heya! You know who you're messing with, you piece of dog's business? When Eddie Lau hears what you have done, he will have you washed!

  Ruby carefully removed her wristwatch. She tossed it at the sergeant who grinned and put it in her pocket. She took two latex rubber gloves from a drawer in the desk and put them on.

  “Bend over the desk.”

  “No.”

  A baton slammed into her kidneys. She screamed and dropped to her knees. The guards picked her up and pushed against over the desk. “Come on, pretty thing, bend over for your old mother,” one of them whispered.

  No help for this now, Ruby thought. But I will remember it all, every little humiliation and I will repay it with interest.

  She bent over the desk.

  “By the look of you, I think maybe it is velvet lined,” the sergeant cackled and used two fingers, and no lubrication.

  ***

  She was taken to a stone building with a narrow veranda, and shoved into a cell not much bigger than the bathroom of her apartment in Hong Kong. She couldn't breathe for the stench coming from the open squat toilet, a hong nam, in the corner. There were more than a dozen women in the cell, three Europeans, the rest Thais. Faces stared at her, some curious, some hostile. Another body to take up precious space.

  Ruby looked at the floor. Grey concrete, smeared with unspeakable filth. Ruby squatted down against the wall, so she wouldn’t soil her skirt too badly.

  Her connection must know what was happening by now. The news would be all over Bangkok. He would be on his way to get her out. She could not spend all night in this place. The bribe would be paid well before morning and she would be back in her own apartment, washing off the stench of the prison in a perfumed bath.

  Then she remembered: Article Twenty Seven. Execution without trial.

  No, it was impossible! She closed her eyes and thought about her Mercedes 380 SEC coupe. She could smell the leather of the Recaro seats, the frigid cool of the air conditioner, U2 on the Blaupunkt stereo system.

  That was her real life. This was just a bad dream.

  “What are you in for?” a voice said, in English. She looked around; the girl sitting next to her had blonde hair and an American accent. Her skin had a ghostly pallor.

  “Threw hand grenade at the king,” Ruby said. I do not have to talk to these people, she thought. Drug addicts and hippies and thieves. A few hours and I will be out of here.

  “Two grams of junk,” the girl said. “Two fucking grams! The taxi driver who sold it to me must have ratted to the cops. Motherfucker.”

  Ruby's thighs had started to ache. The temptation to slide all the way to the floor was great.

  “You'll be all right,” the American girl said. “You look like you've got cash. You got money, you can buy anything you want in here.”

  The fluorescent light emitted a low and persistent buzzing noise. Already she had a mosquito bite on her neck. One of the girls got up, and squatted on the hong nam in front of all of them. A nauseating odor filled the cell.

  Ruby shook her head in disbelief.

  “You'll get used to it, sister,” the blonde girl said. “Don't tell us your shit don't stink.”

  Ruby slid all the way to the floor and rested her forehead on her knees.

  Chapter 48

  SHE could not sleep that first night; there was a blurring of lines between reality and dreams. The guards would not switch off the fluorescent light and its maddening buzzing together with the whining of mosquitoes and the sounds of coughing and spitting tormented her worse than the stink and the hard floor.

  Once she opened her eyes to find a huge cockroach on her leg. She screamed and leaped to her feet, waking her cell mates who swore at her and told her to kee
p quiet.

  Every few minutes she glanced at her wrist to check the time and then remembered how the guard had stolen her beautiful watch. Five years’ salary for that peasant bitch, Ruby thought. She felt a growing pressure in her bladder which she tried to ignore but finally she was forced to squat over the hong nam in front of everyone and relieve herself. Her crocodile skin shoes were ruined.

  Eddie will have to buy me a new pair.

  She tried to sleep after that, but it was impossible. She prayed that it would soon be morning. Heya, it would be over soon. Tomorrow night she would be at home in her own bed.

  ***

  By six o'clock the cells were already ovens, but they had to endure another hour of torture before the guards threw open the doors. Ruby staggered onto the veranda and sagged against the railing.

  “Your first time, honey?”

  It was the blond girl again. Ruby took a better look at her. She was wearing a cotton Indian shift, a sarong and thongs. A hippy, a back-packer; bird-shit tourists, the Thais called them.

  She had not shaved her legs or under her arms, her blonde hair had been chopped short, maybe with a blunt pair of scissors. She exuded a gamey smell.

  “Name's Nancy, friends call me Nan. What about you?”

  Why am I standing here having this conversation in this place? Ruby thought. Where was her connection? “Ruby.”

  “You Chinese, Malay, what?”

  For some reason Ruby thought of her father and his ridiculous peasant pride and she heard herself say: “Hakka.” Nancy looked mystified, so Ruby added: “Hong Kong Chinese.”

  “You're a dealer, right?”

  Ruby shook her head.

  “Sure you are, I can tell by your clothes. Got to be a big time dealer.” When Ruby did not answer her, she said: “Ever been in prison before, Rube?”

  She shook her head.