FAITHFUL ONES MAY JOIN THE SOCIETY.
DISLOYAL ONES MUST OFFER INCENSE HERE.
THE HEROES ARE SUPREME.
THE BRAVE HAVE NO EQUAL.
Then the doors opened on the north gate and a man with a hood over his head was led into the hall. He walked slowly and seemed to be in great pain. He was led by a very thin, ugly man who limped badly when he walked. The limping man wore a magnificent white robe adorned with beautiful gold thread. It was the only robe in the Pavilion that had any decorative symbols. The Incense Master whispered that the man in the hood was a traitor to the Triad, and that the skinny man in the beautiful embroidered robe was the most powerful Shan Chu, President and Supreme Leader of the Chin Lo. He pointed to another man who was standing on the platform of elders and whispered that he was the Vice President of the Society, the most powerful White Fan.
The Shan Chu led the hooded man to the altar and pushed him down before it. Then the Shan Chu reached down and snapped off the hood. The kneeling man had been severely beaten; his face was bloody and there were only a few teeth left in his mouth. Stranger still was the fact that the man was covered with scars. He had once been horribly burned. His face and bald head were grotesquely altered by flames. Several of his fingers had been burned off. His yellow lips were stretched thin in pain and resignation.
"You have betrayed the oath and you must pay the price of sin against your brothers," the Shan Chu said loudly in the hushed Temple. Then he pulled the Sword of Loyalty and Righteousness out of its ornate scabbard. Five muscular vanguards from the Triad's honored Red-Pole fighting section moved forward and tied thongs around the scarred man's hands and feet, then he was pushed down to the floor. His clothing was removed by the vanguards, cut from his body with short knives. Fu Hai could see that the rest of the man's body was also horribly scarred.
What happened next was a riot to Fu Hai's senses. He watched in fascination and horror as the most powerful Shan Chu performed the Death by a Myriad of Swords on the horribly scarred man, slowly drawing the Sword of Loyalty and Righteousness across the man's body, first here, then there. With each cut, the man screamed in pain. The five vanguards held him down as his bloody body bucked, arched, and jerked in agony, but the scarred man was held firmly in place before the altar.
It went on for almost a half-hour until the traitor was covered in his own blood and his horrible screams had died to whimpers. When he was finally silent, Fu Hai knew he was most surely dead.
It was ghastly and inhumane, yet it was also somehow spectacular and awe-inspiring, because it demonstrated the immense power of the Shan Chu. That he could commit this horrible criminal act in front of hundreds of witnesses, without fear of discovery, certainly displayed his supreme power.
Fu Hai wondered who the scarred man was and what he had done to deserve such a terrible death.
They came for him in darkness. He was lying on a grass mat in the garden pavilion of the great Temple building. They shook him awake as, nearby, the other initiates slept, unaware. They led him silently, under a quarter moon, out of the garden pavilion into the main building, just inside the Temple entrance. The red-robed Incense Master was waiting for him in candlelight, holding a large, magnificent yellow gauze quilt embroidered with Chinese calligraphy. Fu Hai was still rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, but his heart began to beat faster.
"This is the Sha Tz'u Pei," the Incense Master said, holding up the quilt for him to see. "It contains all of the sacred oaths of the Chin Lo society. Even though you are just an initiate, tonight you have been chosen for a great mission, but you must swear that you are worthy of our trust. . . . Can you do this?"
"Yes," Fu Hai said.
"You have been chosen because you have already received a tremendous gift from the Society. We have given you a new life and asked for nothing. No member of your family has been pledged to us if you default. You have been embraced as few have and given a long journey for which you owe us a great accounting. Tonight you must begin to repay. As our proposed brother and one who has asked to join our number, we have trusted you for many million yuan. But you must do certain extra things to repay our great trust and generosity. For this reason, you have been chosen. Tonight is the beginning," the Incense Master said. "Do you understand your duty?"
Again Fu Hai nodded.
"Before you go on this mission, you must read one oath of fealty and four oaths of allegiance and you must swear to each oath. These oaths must not be taken lightly. To fail in this will bring dishonor and terrible death. Do you understand?"
Fu Hai nodded. He did not want to end like the scarred man in the Red Flower Pavilion. The Incense Master took the gauze quilt and placed it on a low table before Fu Hai. He gently pushed Fu Hai to his knees and pointed to the thirty-sixth and last oath. "Read and swear," he said softly.
"After entering the Chin Lo gates, I shall be loyal and faithful," Fu Hai read aloud. "I shall endeavor to overthrow the Ching and restore the Ming by coordinating my efforts with those of my sworn Brethren. Our common aim is to avenge our five great ancestors."
"This is a historic oath of fealty. It deals with our great and bloody past, with the historic plight of the Five Tiger Generals. To appreciate the past is to see into the future," the Incense Master told him. "This morning you will perform a work of honor for your Brethren... but there is some risk. Should things go badly, the Brethren must know you can be trusted. For this reason, you must swear the four oaths of allegiance." He pointed to the fifth oath embroidered on the Sha Tz'u Pei. "Read and swear," he instructed.
"I swear I shall not disclose the secrets of the Chin Lo family, even to my parents, my brothers, or my wife. I shall never disclose the secrets for money. If I do, I will be killed by a Myriad of Swords." Fu Hai read these words in a soft voice, again shuddering at the memory of the horrible ceremony he had witnessed just a few hours before.
The Incense Master then pointed to oath number six: "I swear I shall never betray my sworn brother," Fu Hai read. "If through a misunderstanding or mistake I have caused the arrest of one of my brothers, I must give my life to attempt to release him. If I break this oath, I will be killed by Five Thunderbolts." Then the Incense Master pointed to oath number eighteen: "If I am arrested after committing an offense, I swear I will accept my punishment and not try to place blame upon my sworn Brethren. If I fail this oath, I will die by Five Thunderbolts."
Then the Incense Master pointed to the last oath he wanted Fu Hai to read. It was oath number twelve:
"If I have supplied false information about myself for the purpose of joining the Chin Lo secret society, I will die by a Myriad of Swords," Fu Hai said softly.
Suddenly, he was pulled to his feet and embraced by the Incense Master. Fu Hai could smell the soft, sweet fragrance of flowered soap on the old man. Then the Incense Master held him at arms' length and looked at him as a father would a beloved son.
"There will be many trials for you, Fu Hai," he said. "This is but your first. It is the first step along the path of true believers."
Fu Hai was taken out of the Temple to the grass park. On all four sides, he could see the backs of buildings that made up the inside of the Walled City. Four young men dressed in black waited for him. Two were holding Russian AK-47s. Fu Hai looked at the ugly machines of death and wondered what he was supposed to do. Then, one at a time, all four men embraced Fu Hai and called him brother. They again placed a blindfold over his eyes. He was spun three times in a circle until he lost his bearings, then they put his hand on the belt of the man in front of him. He was led out of the grass park and into a building a short distance away. He could not smell the stench of the Walled City, but he knew he was inside one of the buildings that backed up to the central park. Then he was being led down a set of stairs. The sounds of their footsteps echoed in a narrow stairwell. He could no longer smell the sweet cherry blossoms. Damp air now filled his nose. Then Fu Hai was helped into some kind of vehicle. Once it was in motion, he knew it was an electric
cart. It hummed as they sped along. Cold, musty air filled his nostrils and blew past his ears. Fu Hai thought they were underground.
After only a few minutes, they stopped and he was helped out of the cart. They climbed another set of stairs. Fu Hai heard several men speaking in low tones. He was frightened and yet very exhilarated. It was like being part of some huge adventure. For the first time in his life, Fu Hai was part of the group; he was no longer a peasant sweating in a silkworm factory while supervisors yelled at him, cursing his stupidity. These men talked to him softly and with respect. He was treated as if he possessed great Guan-Xi.
He was placed in the back seat of a car. He heard men talking about street directions, and then he heard an electric garage door open. Fu Hai felt the car start, and it began to move out of a garage. They were driving now. He heard traffic and buses. One of the men in the car told him, politely, to remove his blindfold. He took it off and saw that he was still with the men who had embraced him in the park. The same two were still holding the Russian machine guns. Fu Hai's heart leaped with conflicting emotions, excitement and fear. He wondered what he would be asked to do. More than anything, he wanted to go to America, but a new feeling had been sweeping over him, coloring his thoughts, making him proud. For the first time in his life, Fu Hai belonged. For the first time, he was part of something much larger than himself.
Chapter 24.
Johnny, We Hardly Knew You
It was just eight o'clock in the morning and they were in Victoria Park, near the swimming pools. Julian said it was best to do your planning outside the People's Police Building, where one didn't have to worry about listening devices. Off to the west, they could see the cars streaming along the elevated causeway. A new workday had begun in the oxymoronic Communist Democracy of the Special Autonomous Region known as Hong Kong. Julian Winslow was looking at his hands as he sat on the wooden bench under an elm tree, deep concern creasing his round, cherubic face.
"Why would they search his apartment? What's going on here, Julian?" Tanisha asked. She was trying to read the cagey nuance in his watery blue eyes. She had sensed something was wrong between Johnny Kwong and Julian Winslow, despite Julian's overwhelming praise of the scarred inspector. Now, before going on, she wanted to find out exactly what it was.
"He was on to the blighters," Julian said, his eyes focused on the distant traffic. "Had been for years. Caused a ruckus for bad cops and criminals alike. Johnny liked putting the cat among the pigeons. The Triads and some of our own bent coppers wanted Johnny dead, you can bet on it."
Tanisha was on the bench beside him, and she leaned over and found his eyes with hers, forcing him to look at her. "Julian, I've been playing cops and robbers since I was ten years old. I've been on both sides of the game. It doesn't work that way in L. A., and my guess is it doesn't work that way in Hong Kong."
Doubt and confusion fought for control of his round face.
"Gangsters don't go after cops, because it's always a stupid play," she continued. "It gets front-page news coverage. It makes politicians crazy. The heat gets turned up on the gangsters. Angry cops start playing catch-up, people die, everybody loses. So something else is going on, and I think you know what it is," she said. "Johnny didn't just disappear because he was investigating the Triads. If that was all it was, it would have happened years ago. There's something very wrong between the two of you. I could feel it last night at the Black Swan and again after dinner. You and Johnny aren't the same as you once were. And, as long as we're at it, I should tell you I also don't like coincidences. I don't like the fact that we called you from Willard Vickers's house in Cleveland, then you bring in Johnny Kwong, who just, by the way, happens to be Angela Wong's son. Angela, whose murder I started out investigating a week ago in California. So just what the fuck is going on?" she demanded.
Julian's arm jerked once in an involuntary reflex, then he took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. "I didn't know about Johnny's mum being murdered, and then, after the fire, Johnny changed," he said, his voice thin and sharp as rusty wire. "Everything was different after that. It's why we stopped working together. I mean, it probably would have happened anyway, because he got famous and won all the Queen's tinware. But still and all, he was different... bitter and mad. I was glad to call it cappers. Then, about six months ago, the Independent Commission Against Corruption started a Queen's Inquiry into Johnny himself. It was all a bit close to the knuckle, because Johnny was a hero and it would have been a mess, should it get out. But everybody knew that Johnny was in the broth."
"What were they investigating him for?" Wheeler asked.
"They thought that after the fire he went over and started working for the Triads."
"Let me get this straight," Tanisha said, amazed. "You mean Willy Wo Lap sets Johnny Kwong on fire and then Johnny goes to work for him? How does that track?"
"You have to understand the way it was here. Johnny was a respected copper, an untouchable, as you Yanks call it . . . part of an elite group who were investigating policemen who had joined the Triads. He was going after the most supreme Shan Chu and his vanguards. Then somebody sets Johnny's flat on fire. They burned him to a cinder, and the bloody Royal Hong Kong Police wouldn't even give him his disability or get him skin grafts. They didn't look for him in the rubble even though they knew Johnny was somewhere in that blaze. The reason for that was he'd become a problem for both sides. They let him rot in a hospital bed as a John Doe. He felt like after all he'd done for the Royal Police, they buggered him off. So he got bitter and mad. Some thought he went to work for the Triad, making Charlies of us all in the bargain."
"And do you believe that?" Wheeler asked.
"Johnny was a hero. He would have helped us if he could. I always thought the corrupt cops were trying to get him before he got them, but who knows, it could be true."
"So what happened to the Queen's Inquiry?" Tanisha asked.
"The bloody Queen took a hike. She left with Bonny Prince Charlie on the royal yacht, Britannia, last July. So you go figure the rest."
"And what about our coincidence?" Tanisha asked. "How did this all get so claustrophobic?"
"I can't help you there, Miss Williams. Johnny came to me two days back, said he'd heard two Yanks were asking questions about Willy Wo Lap. Said he knew more about Willy than anyone, and that he'd help give it a go when you arrived. I said okay. He was the only one around here with the guts and connections to go after Willy. He might have worked for Willy once in a while, cut a deal here and there, but I still trusted him. This city is a place of intrigue. You've got to be on both sides of the table occasionally. But if they killed his mother, you can bet he would have gone after Willy." Julian sat looking off at the noisy overpass.
As Wheeler listened to all of this, he had a growing sense of dread. "So, is Johnny dead?" he asked.
"I don't know. He wouldn't just disappear like this. His flat wouldn't be rummaged unless something bad had happened."
"Why would they kill him?" Wheeler asked.
"The Chinese have a saying," Julian said. " 'Water can both sustain and sink a ship.' Who knows what happened. Things change, laddie."
"If Willy is running for Chief Executive in three months, then maybe he's shutting down all the people in Hong Kong he doesn't completely trust," Wheeler said. "Maybe he's afraid his affiliation with the Chin Lo will be made public and ruin everything. Prescott and Angela were being questioned by the FBI about campaign funding. Maybe that's why the Triad had to eliminate them."
"There's still something wrong with it," Tanisha said. "Why leave the picture of Johnny on her as a warning? They must have known it wouldn't scare him off but just make him furious."
Julian had been quiet. Finally, he looked up at them. "Not necessarily. He would have realized he was a dead man when his mother died. ... He would want revenge, but Johnny was a survivor. He would want to pick the timing. Johnny was Chinese--he could play the waiting game. He might have offered Willy something of value in
return for his life ... a swap to buy him time."
"What would he trade?" Tanisha asked.
"Us," Julian said. "Johnny tells Willy we were planning to get a troop of coppers inside the Temple. But Willy doesn't keep the bargain and kills Johnny anyway. Wo Lap Ling is not a man you trust when his vital interests are at stake."
"If that's true," Tanisha said, "then we made a terrible mistake with Johnny."
"What's that?" Julian asked.
"We never should have told him about Chauncy."
They left the Mercedes and took Julian's English Ford Popular, because it had a police light and siren. They roared across the business district of Hong Kong Island, turned on Gloucester Road, and raced down into the Cross Harbor Tunnel, heading toward Kowloon. The morning traffic was heavy, and Julian had to slam on the brakes. They found themselves in an eight-thirty A. M. tunnel traffic jam. They crept through the noxious fumes beneath Victoria Harbor, the green lights on the tunnel walls inching past their windows with maddening slowness. Finally, they escaped the underground congestion and shot up the ramp and across Hong Kong Road, toward the New Territories.
Riding the Snake (1998) Page 20
