‘He didn’t mention anybody he was planning to see while in Hong Kong?’
‘No, he didn’t seem to have any plans at all. He mentioned a brother, I think his name was Patrick, but it was just in passing.’ Leila turned and looked into Patrick Yong’s cruel and distant eyes. ‘He is a tourist and with no other reason for being here than to find something he is looking for but he doesn’t know what that something is.’
Patrick Yong allowed an eager smile to cross his lips. ‘Then the task the Master has set you should be very easy,’ he said.
‘Task? What task?’
‘Number Thirty-Nine, you are to kill Adam Harrison.’
* * *
Settling back into her seat, Gabrielle marvelled at how quickly events happened once she confirmed she did not need a visa for her visit to Hong Kong. She managed to get on a British Airways flight within a day. As London disappeared under the low cloud covering the city, she could not believe the decision she’d taken while still in Loch Lomond would result in this. She was en route to Hong Kong but she didn’t have the faintest idea what she was going to do once she got there.
After a fitful night’s sleep in the Yong mansion, she had done her best to put Lolita’s mind at rest and then rushed down to Bournemouth to see Christina Yong. It was not a successful visit. She was told that Christina was recovering from a major operation and although it was believed everything had gone well, she was heavily sedated and it would be hours before she would be fit enough to see anybody.
‘And anyway, the police are waiting to see her,’ a brusque but obviously tired ward sister told her.
‘I understand,’ Gabrielle said. ‘If I write a note to Mrs Yong will you ensure she gets it?’
‘Of course I will, young lady,’ the ward sister assured her, looking offended this time.
Gabrielle wrote a short note explaining she had been to the house and found the address book. She did not tell Christina she had stayed the night and done all she could to put Lolita’s mind at rest. She also said nothing about the awful truths Lolita had revealed to her. But she did say she was flying to Hong Kong that day and would be away for as long as was necessary to find Adam and bring him home. Gabrielle closed her note by saying - although she knew she shouldn’t - that the prognosis was good and there was every chance Christina would make a full recovery, then added, I will bring Adam home, Gabrielle x
Prior to going to the hospital Gabrielle suggested to Lolita she should give the house, apart from the main bedroom, a complete spring clean in readiness for Mrs Yong coming home.
It was going to be the longest flight Gabrielle had ever experienced and she was pleased she had bought a couple of novels at the airport. She was ill-prepared for this visit. What was in her suitcase was going to be inadequate for what she anticipated the Hong Kong weather would demand. But such things were minor when compared with the task she had set herself.
* * *
‘Why?’ Leila asked, her voice catching. ‘Why must he be killed?’
‘You know your question will go unanswered so why ask it?’ Patrick told her. ‘Your instructions are straight-forward and all you have to do is carry them out. How and when you do it is up to you but there must be no trace of his body or any of his belongings. He must cease to exist.’
Patrick held Leila’s shoulders and turned her to face him. ‘Unless, of course, you feel you can’t complete the task. In that case I must find somebody who can do what the Master orders and add your name to the list of disposables.’
‘That’s not what I’m saying.’
Leila’s mind was in a whirl. She was more than capable of carrying out the task she’d been set but on this occasion she had to know why. Why did somebody who was simply mourning the loss of his family need to be killed? The only answer she could think of was that the Master knew more about Adam Harrison than she realised and Adam had been too professional to even suggest what he’d told her had not been the truth. Was it a cover story? If it was then she had fallen for it completely. And she was supposed to be the expert.
‘The Master -’
‘Number Thirty-Nine, you have your orders and unless you choose the alternative, you are to kill Adam Harrison, dispose of his body and his belongings. Do it. The next time you contact me I expect to be told that the task is completed.’
After giving Leila one last angry look, Patrick Yong walked away.
Leila watched him disappear before turning back and gazing blankly across the harbour.
She had little choice.
If she did not carry out the task then she would be found and it would be her body that would be disposed of without a trace. It was either her or Adam Harrison and although it was the last thing she wanted to do, it would be done.
* * *
Nathan Road had changed very little.
It still bisected Kowloon and inevitably led the motorist towards the tunnel under the mountain and then to the New Territories, although Adam doubted the area was called that any more.
As he walked the length of Nathan Road he found it difficult to believe anything had changed at all. The tailors, the restaurants, the electrical and small market shops were still there as were the hawkers and the stalls. He defied anybody to say unreservedly that they could tell the Colony was now under Chinese rule. He could only agree with Leila’s description. The police were still in the same uniforms, the taxis were the same, the traffic lights, the signs, everything - nothing had changed.
His mind went back over twenty years.
Was that why he was here?
Was he revisiting the past in an attempt to find the present and perhaps the future - his future?
He stopped outside a jewellers and automatically converted the prices he saw into pounds Sterling - ten Hong Kong dollars to one pound was a good estimate, perhaps a little on the side of the Hong Kong dollars, but who was arguing?
No, nothing had changed.
So why was he here?
What did he hope to gain by travelling ten thousand miles around the world?
He should be dead.
If it had not been for that meddling but very captivatingly attractive vicar in Loch Lomond he would be dead. Why couldn’t she have simply minded her own business? No, he was being unfair. Gabrielle Brooks did not meddle in anything; she gave him reasons to live another day. He knew why he was getting annoyed, though.
Leila.
It was Leila who invaded his privacy. It was Leila who, almost from the moment he stepped back on familiar territory, took control of him. It was Leila who he dismissed and who walked away. It was Leila who he could not get out of his mind.
What the hell was going on?
* * *
It was either him or her and she wasn’t ready to die yet.
What the hell was going on?
The first man to walk into her life for years, who offered her a slim chance of being normal, had rejected her and then within a matter of hours she is being ordered to kill him by the Master.
Why?
What had Adam Harrison ever done to anybody to warrant a death sentence from the Master?
It would be done though.
She was not ready to die.
There might be another Adam Harrison waiting round the corner who would not reject her, who did not have a death sentence passed on him. She wanted to live.
* * *
Having walked for hours and hours, Adam was no closer to understanding.
He knew the streets, the smells, the short cuts, the areas to avoid - everything; he knew them all so well.
But he also knew what he was avoiding.
He was avoiding the house where they had lived.
There would be strangers living in his house. His house? Surely his house was where he had lived with his real mother and father. Not only could he not remember that house or even where it was, he could not remember his mother and father. He had been only five, but surely he should remember them. There was no elder brother or sister to describe them to
him, there were no photographs. The first five years of his life did not happen. He was five when he was born: he was five when the Yongs took him in as one of their own. He was five when Lucinda became his sister, when Patrick became his brother, when Joseph and Christina became his father and mother.
But had it all been a mistake?
Everything had been a mistake.
His real mother and father dying in a plane crash had been a mistake.
The Yongs taking him in as their own.
Falling in love with Lucinda.
Making love with Lucinda when so young.
Being caught.
The six years in England on his own without Lucinda.
Meeting Lucinda again after seven years of being apart.
Marrying Lucinda.
But Charlotte and Timothy had not been a mistake. They were his life, his reason for living after the tragedy of being five years old.
They were his blood.
They were him.
Adam put the empty glass on the bar.
It was a bar.
Any bar.
He no longer remembered where he was or what time of day it was.
It was still daylight.
Sometime in the afternoon maybe?
Did it matter?
He signalled the barman for another two, no three fingers of whatever. He had forgotten what he was drinking. It didn’t matter. Afternoon, evening? Whisky, brandy? None of it mattered.
He chuckled to himself. He did not drink, well not a lot. But he had now. Perhaps he should have tried this remedy before. It made him more morose but perhaps the alcohol had put a few things into perspective.
‘You wanna cumpney, Johnny?’
Adam turned his head towards the source of the intrusion. ‘What?’
‘You wanna cumpney, you wanna talk, Johnny?’ the bleary-faced woman said.
‘My name’s not Johnny, my name’s Adam,’ he heard himself say.
‘All wight, you wanna cumpney Ay-dam?’
‘Company? Why would I want company?’
‘You velly dlunk Ay-dam, I tink you wanna somma where to slip. You wanna slip wid me, Ay-dam?’
Adam shook his head but it didn’t help. He looked from the bleary face to the bar. He thought the barman had put more liquid in his glass but he wasn’t sure. He picked up the glass and put it to his lips. Whisky? Brandy? Did it matter? He tipped the glass and felt the liquid burn his throat.
‘You wanna slip, Ay-dam?’
‘Yeh,’ he said, ‘I wanna slip. I wanna slip for a very long time.’ He took a hundred dollar note out of his wallet and put it on the bar. ‘Keep the change,’ he said drunkenly.
The barman picked up the money and looked at the girl. He nodded and she smiled.
‘Thanks,’ she said. ‘Fifty-fifty?’
‘Fifty-fifty,’ the barman repeated.
The girl took hold of Adam’s arm and steered him out of the bar.
* * *
The phone rang and rang.
‘I’m sorry, Miss, but he doesn’t appear to be in his room at the moment. Do you want to leave a message?’
‘No, no thanks ... er, yes, will you tell him that Leila rang and that I’ll ring again later.’
‘Leila. Do you wish to leave a last name, Miss?’
‘No, Leila will do.’
‘Thank you, Miss.’
‘Thank you.’
Leila put the receiver down slowly. She was pleased Adam had not been in his room because it meant she could give whatever plan she came up with some more thought. Plan? She’d been told to kill somebody she actually liked, somebody she had hoped was going to give her the start she so desperately needed.
Start?
She sniggered to herself.
What start?
The Master had controlled her life for more than twenty years. What gave her the right to think she could assume control now? There would not be another start but there would be an end and all she could do was delay that for as long as possible. And part of the delaying process was to do as she was told.
Therefore Adam Harrison was going to have to die. But how?
The why didn’t enter into it.
* * *
It was the smell that woke him up.
It was mixture of rotting fish and excrement.
Adam tried to open his eyes but only one would do as it was told. His head hurt. His body hurt. Everything hurt.
The smell was so overpowering he felt the bile rising in his throat. The next thing he knew was that his vomit had joined the stink and filth around him.
When he left the Peninsula he was wearing an Yves St Laurent shirt, a pair of lightweight chinos and soft leather moccasins. Now he had only his chinos and socks. Everything else was gone. He knew without feeling behind him that his wallet would also be gone, along with his watch and wedding ring. Fortunately he had reduced the contents of his wallet to ready cash, having put his passport, credit and debit cards, his Rolex watch and mobile phone, and the remainder of his cash in the safe in his room. He wouldn’t miss the stolen watch but his wedding ring could never be replaced. He had not taken it off because he had never taken it off. He felt even more naked without it.
He pulled himself up into a sitting position and looked around him. He was in a dark alley, one end of which ended in a brick wall and the other, about fifty yards away, opened onto a well-lit street. The alley was full of stinking rubbish, overturned bins and God knows what else.
Adam looked up and could just make out a few stars shining between the rooftops of the buildings on either side of the alley. He had no means of determining what time it was and could not even remember what day it was.
Shit!
What a prat!
Get drunk, get picked up by some tart, mugged, robbed, left in an alley. What else should he expect?
He had nobody else to blame but himself.
He remembered walking the length of Nathan Road, he remembered looking in the jewellers shop, but he remembered little after that. Thank God he had the forethought to carry the minimum cash and no cards.
The stench hit him again.
He had to get out of here, but to where? He had no shoes, no shirt and no identity. He would be arrested in no time.
He got to his feet but his legs refused to work properly. He staggered the first few yards then leant against the wall in an attempt to shake some life back into his muscles. Finally he reached the end; he needed to find out where he was. People were walking on either side of the street as though where he had come from was a million miles away. There were shops, mostly closed with barred shutters, and several restaurants. He was robbed literally yards from what he considered to be normality. And yet to walk back into his real world would be impossible: he was not only half naked but he was nameless. If he were stopped certain members of the police would take a great deal of satisfaction in putting a gweilo behind bars for the night.
Revenge was a marvellous weapon.
Looking to his right he saw a European couple walking towards him. They were young, maybe late twenties but there was no way of determining their nationality.
He waited until they were only feet away before stepping out from the alley.
‘Excuse me,’ he said. He saw the immediate revulsion in both their faces but at least they slowed down. ‘I’ve been mugged and just need the price of a -’
The man took his girlfriend’s arm and urged her past this disgusting excuse for a fellow European. Adam thought he heard the words, ‘Fuck off,’ but perhaps it was what he expected to hear therefore assumed it was said.
He slunk back into the alley.
But then he was aware the couple had stopped.
They turned round and looked at him.
‘Did you say you were mugged?’ the young woman asked, clutching the man’s arm firmly. There was an accent but he could not identify it.
‘Yes,’ Adam said. ‘If you have the price of a phone call I could perhaps get myself ou
t of this predicament.’
His possible saviours exchanged looks. The man thought for a moment. ‘We can probably do better than that. You can use my cell phone.’ This time he recognised a definite American twang. The man put his hand in his trouser pocket and produced the phone.
‘Thank you,’ Adam said, reaching across the few feet between them. Who should he phone? He didn’t know the number for the hotel … then the number Leila had written on the bathroom mirror flashed into his mind. He looked at the couple. ‘Can you tell me where I am?’
Another exchange of looks. ‘One block from the Nathan Road and Boundary Street interchange, south,’ the man said.
‘Thanks.’ Adam tapped out the number and hoped he remembered it correctly. It was answered almost immediately. ‘Leila?’
‘Yes.’
‘Leila, it’s Adam Harrison, look I’ve been mugged and -’
‘Where are you?’
‘A block south of Boundary Street on Nathan Road …’
‘Stay where you are. I’ll be with you in ten minutes.’
‘Leila, I’m so sorry, I -’
‘Adam, forget it, which side of the Nathan Road are you on?’
‘I … hang on.’ He looked at the couple. ‘I’m sorry, but which way is it to Star Ferry.’
‘That way,’ the woman said, pointing to the right.
‘Thanks. Leila? I’m a block south of Boundary Street on the right.’
‘Okay, wait there. Ten minutes.’
Adam closed the phone. ‘Thanks,’ he said handing it back to the man. ‘You’ve been great.’
The woman looked at her partner. ‘We can’t leave him like this.’
Adam smiled. ‘I’ll be all right now. It’s not as if I’ve got anything left that might attract another mugger.’
‘But …’ she started to say.
The man reached into his trousers pocket and took out his wallet. ‘Look, I’m sorry we can’t do more for you but take this just in case.’ He handed Adam a hundred dollar note.
‘I can’t,’ Adam told him.
‘I can, so I can’t see why you can’t.’ He thrust the money towards Adam. ‘Go on.’
In Denial Page 26
