by Tony Davies
That Westminster was a major player was beyond doubt, but digging beneath its public veneer was proving much more difficult than Debbie had envisaged and there had to be a reason for that. Her instincts told her there was a story there, but she couldn’t decide whether the story was Westminster and its business activities or Andrew Weston himself.
There was nothing to prevent her pursuing both avenues. However, as a lone operator with limited support from her newspaper, she would quickly have to decide which was likely to lead anywhere.
She closed the lid of her Dell laptop and stared at the ceiling. She enjoyed living on her own but would have liked a bigger apartment. She had recently ended her relationship with her boyfriend, a journalist of all people, and she remembered how he had complained when he had stayed over that she needed a bigger bed. He should have been focusing on what he was doing in the bedroom, not complaining about the size of the room. She hadn’t complained about the size of anything he owned, so what his problem?
She got up from the bed and walked out into her cramped lounge room. The single couch, sideboard and small TV screen seemed to dominate the room.
Does anyone really know what it is like to lose a loved one until they have experienced it? Life isn’t like the movies where there is usually a happy ending. Stephen’s death had obviously affected her but not in the way she thought it would have. Yes, there was a heart felt grief over the loss of a loved sibling, but the overriding emotion was one of injustice.
She was not a particularly religious person, but she did believe in God and she accepted that things happened in life for a reason. Stephen had chosen to live his life a particular way and that was his choice. If it was God’s will that his life be taken early then so be it. However, it was certainly not god’s will that he be murdered and she felt certain he had been murdered
A thought suddenly came to her and she picked up her mobile phone and Mack’s business card and dialed the number on it. It went to an answering service and she hung up without leaving a message. She petulantly threw the phone onto the chair opposite and then smiled to herself. Perhaps she should take it as an omen that she was alone and was the only person who could discover what had really happened to Stephen. She owed it to her brother to do everything she could to unearth the culprit and nothing would prevent her from doing so.
Chapter fourteen
The contractor
The meeting in Westminster’s boardroom had dragged on for over forty minutes and Weston was feeling tired and bored. He looked across the table at the grossly overweight building contractor opposite and felt an almost insatiable urge to reach across and hit him. He knew violence had its uses and he was not beyond condoning its use under certain circumstances. This was rapidly becoming one of those situations where he could easily condone it.
The contractor was Chinese was in his mid‐fifties and was shabbily dressed in a dark grey shirt and chinos. Chen Yin Fai looked oddly out of place in Westminster’s boardroom, where Armani suits and Hermes ties were the norm. He spoke passable English and Weston assumed he was an astute operator. You had to be if you wanted to be a successful contractor in Hong Kong.
Bent was sat alongside him and he listened with equally growing impatience while Chen droned on about the problems he was experiencing in China. Dealing with building contractors was not normally within Bent’s remit, and it certainly wasn’t within Weston’s so he had been curious when Bent had requested he attend the meeting. Nothing had been said so far which warranted him being there, but he knew Bent well enough. He didn’t waste his time on frivolous meetings.
Chen was building a multi-million dollar industrial park in nearby Shenzhen province for one of Westminster’s clients. He was also in discussions with the client over another park in Zhuhai, which was to set to start the following year. Apparently he was experiencing problems with the Shenzhen authorities over the issue of building permits. As an experienced contractor he should have been able to sort these out in the customary manner. Payments, more correctly described as bribes, to government officials were routine in China.
Weston’s annoyance over the position they now found themselves in was partly because Bent had vetted Chen and had assured him that he was capable of doing the job. Capable maybe, but perhaps not suitable given the current problem. He assumed Bent now felt obliged to rectify the situation and he could understand his reasoning for that. Cleaning up your own mess was part of the corporate philosophy at Westminster.
Weston felt his frustration growing as Bent told Chen for the third time that he had no option but to make the payments immediately. It didn’t matter if his profit margin was affected. He had taken on the job, signed the contract and now he had to get on with it. Weston thought the whole thing was an excuse to renegotiate the terms of the deal with his client, which was never going to happen now that he and Bent had got involved.
Weston got up to leave the room and as he did so the contractor looked at him and smiled. He then faced Bent and bellowed “My friend, be reasonable. There must be some help from the client, a little extra money maybe? I want to avoid problem for client.”
Bent lent back in his chair and returned the smile. This was what it always came down to ‐ money and greed and he was fully prepared for it. He calmly said “A problem for our client or a problem for you?”
“Another 5% not make much difference but huge difference for me so I can sort out government problem.”
Bent didn’t look at Weston, his whole attention was focused on the contractor. “So it is just 5%, nothing more. Is that what you are saying?”
Chen smiled and nodded his head. He felt a sense of triumph. This was going better than expected.
Bent’s expression changed to a cold one as he looked at the contractor and pulled his chair closer him. He snarled in a quiet voice “Now listen, you fat Chinese arsehole. You are going to apologise to Mr. Weston and say you didn’t mean anything of the sort. You are then going to offer to reduce your price for Shenzhen by 5% and also tell him that it will be finished one month early. Got it?”
Chen looked incredulously at Bent and then said to Weston “This man crazy, why I do that?”
“Because if you don’t then I will tell all your family about the Chinese mistress you are keeping in an apartment in Kennedy Town. You know, Angie, the one with long legs, big tits, calls you ‘daddy’. The one you give 20,000 dollars to each month. Did you know she is also being enjoyed by your competitor Chan Pak Wai, only that he pays on a poke-by-poke basis and not on a retainer like you? Oh the loss of face when that comes out.
“After that I am going to send a DVD to the police. It is a really interesting DVD. Can you remember where you were on the 14th of last month? Let me help you. You were in Macau and you went to a seedy little doss house called ‘The Girlie Place’. Is it all coming back to you now? The girl you had was thirteen, a young, innocent mainlander who possessed no special skills, only her body to sell. Oh, I agree, she looks a little bit older, at least on the video she does, but then, so do you. I like the red underwear she was wearing. You were quite an animal, it looks like rape to me, but I am no expert. Trust me, I am sure the girl will say it was rape if I take her to the police. How many times did you have her and each time she said no before you did it?”
Bent paused for effect and then went on “Would you like to see the video?”
He paused for a moment before saying “Okay, perhaps not. Now tell me, I am sure your friends would like to know more about Angie, but I know what the police would like. The big question is, what would interest your wife most?”
Chen sat motionless and looked at Bent. How had he known about Angie? Ah Leng, that areshole was also enjoying her! How did this man know so much? As for the girl, surely they could not have taped it and even if they did, how could this gweilo have got hold of it?
He remembered she looked very young, but he liked them that way. He always had. When she had said she was only thirteen and kept saying no he had ass
umed it was to turn him on. The house had been recommended to him by several of his friends and it had been his first visit there. It would certainly be his last.
This gweilo knew too many things. Chan Pak Wai was having Angie! He would stop that immediately, throw her back with the other whores in China where she came from.
Questions flooded his mind. Too many questions, but one thing he knew for certain. He had underestimated this gweilo. What choice did he have but to agree and run with his tail between his legs like a scampering dog. Oh how he hated gweilos.
After the individual had left, Weston looked at Bent. “I am never failed to be impressed by your ingenuity Paul, you are a very good operator.”
He knew his comments would have little effect on Bent. He was one of those rare individuals who didn’t seem to respond to praise of any kind. The successful completion of the task was his sole aim. When had completed that he was ready for the next one, or so it seemed to Weston. He didn’t waste time seeking confirmation of a job well done or affirmation of his ability.
He thought Bent was a very different type of corporate animal to the preening sycophants who worked for most of his competitors. The only downside appeared to be the very things that had first brought him to Weston’s attention. Ambition and ruthlessness are a deadly combination and in Bent’s case he had them in abundance. The problem for Weston was that he wasn’t entirely satisfied they could be kept in check.
Whilst he doubted Bent wanted to be seen as the public face of the firm, he liked his privacy too much for that, he suspected he did want to exert more control than simply being ‘Mr. Fix it’. He didn’t have the full range of financial skills and experience to be the CEO. Not that a lack of those things would necessarily stop taking on such a role in another firm. It just meant he wasn’t destined for that role within Westminster.
“No problem, standard operating procedure. Never leave yourself at the mercy of someone you do business with, especially a local contractor” said Bent.
Weston looked at him silently, taking in the full implications of what had just transpired. Yes, it is important that we always protect our position, but what lengths should you go to do so. He certainly didn’t see anything wrong with what Bent had done. He simply marveled at the ingenuity shown and the resources he had access to be able to pull it off. He doubted he would ever turn those sources against him, but he reminded himself of his father’s advice.
“Well, no complaints from me. And I don’t want to know your sources, not that you would ever tell me, unless I pushed the issue of course.” They both looked at each other in silence, neither wanting to provoke a reply. There would be no winner if that occurred.
The silence was broken when Weston remarked “Presumably the client doesn’t need to know any of this. Let’s file it away and move on. We could use what you have as leverage on the next deal we need a contractor for, but let’s decide that later. My gut feeling is that we shouldn’t increase our exposure to him. Too much downside, especially with his interest in young girls. One day someone else is going to discover that and it could come back to haunt us. Just one question, was she really only thirteen?”
“We don’t need to prove it now. Changing the subject, I haven’t heard from Mackworth in the last twenty-four hours. Shall I get him in for an update?”
“Before we discuss that, I would like to know why you wanted me to attend. I assume you knew it would end up with him threatening us and you wanted to show me the steps you had taken to protect us?” asked Weston with an inquisitive tone.
Bent smiled nervously and replied in a conciliatory tone “Nothing of the sort. Whilst it doesn’t do any harm for you to see how some things are achieved, there is no need for you to get your hands dirty. That is my job.”
“That doesn’t answer my question, but never mind. I won’t pursue that question so let’s move on. Yes let’s get Mackworth in. We need to keep the pressure on him, now is not the time for him to go to sleep. As for his fee quote, ridiculous! He should come to work here, we can show him how to charge a client properly. The guy must be a pauper. I will never understand what drives some people.”
Bent sounded concerned when he said “I can’t put my finger on it, I just have a feeling that we are not going to like the result of his efforts.”
“I never question your instincts Paul. But let’s give him the benefit of the doubt at this stage and see what he has to say. I am sure you can deal with him if his performance is not satisfactory.”
The statement was left hanging as they got up and left the room.
Chapter fifteen
An informal get together
After Debbie Chan had left, Mack caught a bus back to Wanchai and sat in the Agave bar nursing a cold Carlsberg for thirty minutes. The bar was unusually quiet and he was glad he had the opportunity to reflect on where he was up to with the case. Unfortunately, he didn’t think he had made a lot of progress and was, in police terms, ‘waiting for something to break’. He assumed Chan’s death was tied into the allegation, but he needed to keep an open mind.
His thoughts were interrupted by Lindy who called him on his mobile.
“Tell me I am a clever girl. Ok, don’t bother, I know I am. I have found a link between Lee and Chan. An obvious one really. Lee is a member of the Ladies Recreation Club and surprise, surprise, is a member of the tennis section there. He has a lesson every couple of weeks from Chan. It’s all on the club’s booking register.
“Next, Don Taylor wants to meet you. He still seems a little upset. He says if you want to discuss Chan you can meet him tonight at the Old China Hand at 8pm. He also said, and I was told to write this down to make sure you got it correctly, ‘If you don’t want to discuss it, then be there anyway’. Sounded like an order to me. And finally, how was your day?”
Mack looked at his beer and thought the last thing he wanted to do was meet Don Taylor. He replied “Not bad, I have an update for you on Chan, but I will fill you in on that in the morning. Can we make an early start, say 8am?”
“No problem, you bring the coffee and muffins and I will let you claim it back from petty cash. Are you okay? You sound tired”
“I’m fine, it has been a busy day. I will have an early night and be up bright and early in the morning. See you then.”
He hung up, paid his bill and walked a short distance to a take away kebab booth where he bought himself dinner. He stood in the street for fifteen minutes slowly eating and taking in the sights before walking the short distance to the Old China Hand.
He walked into the dimly lit bar and saw Don sitting on his own in the far corner. As he approached him a young Chinese male came out of the toilets and sat alongside Don. He was inexpensively dressed in black slacks and a white tee shirt and wore rimless glasses, which gave him the appearance of a student. There were two nearly empty beer glasses in front of them so he assumed they had been talking for some time, although with Don Taylor that could not be taken for granted.
Don smiled at his friend and gestured to an empty chair.
“Mack, thanks for coming, sit down and let me introduce you to Detective Inspector Tommy So.”
Mack looked at So and wondered what was happening to the Hong Kong Police Force. The hierarchy seemed intent on recruiting young local university graduates who looked as if they should still be in high school and then giving them Detective Inspector status before they could even shave. ‘Never judge a book by its cover’ he told himself, but it was hard sometimes not to fall into that trap.
They shook hands as Mack sat down while Don gestured to a waitress at the bar that he wanted three more beers.
Don looked intently around the room and spoke quietly “I have a few things to go over with you, but first Tommy has something to say.”
“I am with Regional Vice Squad. You are investigating Lee Wai and I think we maybe help each other.”
The immediate question in Mack’s mind was how Tommy had found out about his interest in Lee Wai? Only Weston
and his team knew of his assignment and he was sure Lindy and Ping hadn’t been careless with their research. He knew it wasn’t up to him to lead the conversation so he sat quietly and waited for him or Don to speak.
Tommy broke the silence and said “I was in uniform branch before and I remember you. I know you good friend of Mr. Taylor, so I call him and he told me to come meet you. Someone rang my office and said you investigating Lee and his boyfriend. Said he had proof Lee was also a criminal and if we knew the facts, it all over for Lee. Caller was a local guy, young but not educated.
“Lee Wai is big deal in government, so maybe someone out to get him. Maybe him do nothing wrong, but the guy say your name, so maybe something going on. Who knows. Me? Not interested unless someone make formal complaint and there is some evidence to go on. Big trouble if I investigate Lee and him do nothing wrong. So I call Mr. Taylor and he said you definitely not going to tell me anything, so I have nothing to go on but the phone call. So I just come to have a beer with Mr. Taylor and now you turn up. Good coincidence for you, eh”
