by Tony Davies
Weston considered his position for a few moments. He was reluctant to get too involved in the negotiations, but he accepted that there were some deals where he had to and this was probably one of them. It wasn’t a reflection on his team, there was simply too much at stake for him not to participate.
Lee Wai was digging his heels in and it would need someone of similar stature, namely the owner of Westminster, to stare him down. And if that failed, then there was always the fall back option of bringing Bent into the equation. That would be a last resort option though. Of course, all that depended on the caller and whether the allegation over Lee Wai’s involvement with Stephen Chan was true and became public knowledge.
“Okay, I agree. Set it up for as soon as possible. In the meantime, send me the transcripts of the discussions so far – only relating to the premium issue though. I don’t want to be reading trivia for the next two weeks.”
After Wilson and his team had left the room Weston looked at Bent and asked what he had thought about the meeting.
“I know your thoughts on loyalty and I am probably the only person who can tell you this, but I am deadly serious when I say we have a mole in the operation. The same person who tipped off the caller could well have leaked details of our deal to Lee Wai. What the mole is up to is anyone’s guess. I have fed a different line to some people in the team and if it comes back to us then we will know who it is. Until something happens there isn’t much I can do.”
“Okay, let me think about it, fancy a quick drink?”
“It will have to be quick. Arranged to meet someone at my club. Are you meeting Tee later?”
The mention of Tee’s name reminded Weston that Bent had set up the liaison. It had worked well for all parties, Tee got paid regularly and he got what he wanted. However, he didn’t like being reminded that Bent had set it up.
“No, not tonight. And on second thoughts, let’s skip the drinks. I have a few things I want to finish before I leave here. Enjoy yourself at the club.” He picked up his file and walked out of the room.
Chapter twenty one
Ouch, that hurts
Mack awoke to find himself lying in a bed with white sheets and white walls. He immediately knew where he was. He tried to move his head, but as he did so it throbbed and his brain told him to stop doing that. He felt nauseas and he hoped he wasn’t going to throw up over the clean sheets. The nurses would not appreciate that.
Lindy’s voice startled him as it interrupted his thoughts. “You are lucky it wasn’t much worse. Only your nose is broken, but that has been broken before so your good looks won’t be affected. You have a concussion and lots of bruising.”
Mack couldn’t see her, she was on the other side of the bed and for some reason he was incapable of turning to face her.
From her voice she seemed to be on the verge of crying. She didn’t sound like his mother had when he had come home from school battered and bruised from fighting Johnny Warren the school bully. She sounded more afraid, as if she were a little child, lost and scared that something bad was bad about to happen.
He wanted to tell her everything was going to be okay, but he couldn’t form the words. Was he hallucinating? Was she really there? Perhaps none of this was real. Perhaps he was still outside his apartment, waiting for the next blow. Perhaps he was just dreaming. He drifted slowly back into unconsciousness.
Four hours later he was sat up in bed while a nurse tidied his bed sheets. He had avoided vomiting over them. Unfortunately the floor had not been so lucky. Lindy was sat opposite him and this time he sensed he wasn’t dreaming.
The nurse left and Lindy took hold of his hand and said “Your neighbor downstairs heard the commotion and went to see what the problem was. He found you and called the police and an ambulance. He didn’t see what happened to you, or so he says. Don has found out about it and will be here to see you shortly. Sorry, I couldn’t say no to him. He was genuinely concerned about you”
“No problem. When can I leave?”
“Not until tomorrow at the earliest. They want to keep you under observation for twenty four hours. This is very serious. You could have ended up like Stephen Chan.”
“No, that was not their intention. If it was, we wouldn’t be talking now.”
He gathered his thoughts before saying “If someone had wanted to take me off the case permanently, and they know anything about me, they would know this is not the way to go about it. So either they want me to continue with a vengeance or they simply don’t know me.”
He lay there quietly for a few minutes thinking about the events of the night before. A few moments later Don appeared at the door and asked “Mind if I come in?” He looked disheveled even by his standards, although he didn’t look as if he had been drinking.
Mack glanced at the digital display clock beside the bed and saw it was 3am. Lindy got up and tactfully said she would wait outside. As she got to the door she turned and looked at Mack. Her face betrayed emotions beyond mere concern, but he couldn’t begin to understand them in his current condition. Or so he told himself.
“So big fella, what happened to you? Had a run in with a couple of toughies I hear.”
Don’s voice seemed artificially loud in the small room and although he had tried to introduce a note of levity in the matter, his voice quivered with emotion.
“Yeah, you could say that. And before you ask, I am fine thanks.” He smiled and went on “Where are the police when you need them?”
He kept smiling and Don replied “Out drinking with friends. Where else would I be? Actually, I was de‐briefing one of my boys regarding the Stephen Chan case, but I won’t bore you with that.”
Mack lay there trying to focus. Getting straight to the point was typical Don Taylor. Leaving the door open for him to walk through was even more so. He decided to play along for a while. It was better than sitting on his own in a hospital room with a blinding headache.
“Stephen who? Oh, yes, now I remember. Well, when you have failed to crack it and you need my help let me know. I would start with cause of death, friends etc. As for me, it will teach me not to leave my business card in public toilets.”
Don didn’t take the bait and sat quietly waiting for Mack to speak. When he failed to do so he adopted a stern tone in his voice.
“Seriously, we have to talk now. You are on to something Mack and I have a feeling it is connected with Stephen Chan. You have been to see his family and you were seen coming out of Westminster’s offices. What is going on?”
“You are trying it on. No-one has seen me coming from anyone’s offices.”
“Mack, listen to me. You were at Westminster office and you met with Paul Bent and Andrew Weston. I won’t tell you how I know, but let’s just say that things are not quite kosher at that company and some of my colleagues in law enforcement are keeping an eye on them.
“You are involved with Lee Wai in some way and also Stephen Chan. Chan worked for the company that is negotiating with Lee. He is dead and you are looking into his death. Put two and two together big fella, there has to be a connection. You know what it is. I want to know.”
The room suddenly felt even more claustrophobic and Mack was tempted to ask his friend to open a window or turn the air conditioning up. With summer in full blast he doubted the former would have achieved the desired result. The truth was he needed time to think before dealing with Don. In his current state, he was no match for him.
Mack looked up at the ceiling and took a deep breath. He needed to focus his thoughts and yet his mind screamed at him to end the conversation and go back to the safety of sleep. He knew that the flow of information had to work both ways and if he refused to play the game too often then Don would stop playing all together. Irrespective of their friendship, Don was too valuable a resource to let that happen.
Mack chose his words carefully when he said “Someone has made an allegation against Lee involving Chan. If it is true then the Paradise Cove development Lee and Westminster
are negotiating is dead in the water. At least with Westminster it is.
“There is some circumstantial evidence to support the allegation, but certainly not enough. I am helping Westminster find out if it is true. I honestly don’t know how Stephen got my card and I have never met him. You know I may not divulge everything to you, but you also know I wouldn’t lie to you. I will give you a full update in a couple of days, but first I want to see the line ups for the active triad members you have on file.”
“So you think it was one of those boys?”
“Maybe, and if that is the case, it certainly wasn’t my intention to get involved with those guys. I think they are providing the muscle for the La boheme Club. Ever heard of the place?”
“Yes, it has come up on our radar. Where does the club fit into all this?”
“I am not sure yet, Stephen had mentioned the club to his sister and when I paid them a visit they didn’t seem all that keen to see me. Then tonight happens. Is there a connection with Stephen or were they just warning me off the club? I don’t know yet, but all will be revealed in the fullness of time. What do you know about the club?”
Don stood up and scratched his head.
“Not much, it’s a private dining club with extensive facilities and some big hitters as members. I believe that includes a couple of judges as well as several senior government figures. There have been some rumors that there are some very strange goings on taking place there. As it’s a male only club and since one of the judges is gay one can only assume the worst.”
He grimaced before going on “We would like to get someone on the inside, but that is proving difficult as membership is by invitation only. Of course, it might be all perfectly innocent and the rumor that the gay judge is being, how shall I put it, a little indiscreet with his sex life, is totally without merit. However, we would like to confirm that some of our most respected citizens are not being coerced, or even blackmailed, by some of our triad friends.”
Mack closed his eyes to concentrate. His teacher was trying to explain why he had been passed over for boy of the year, but it all sounded bullshit. He had deserved that award. He had come third in his school year for exam results, beaten by two girls. The winner had come in at fifth. He had had been a good all round student, captained his house football and rugby teams as well as representing the school at both sports. A worthy winner by most people’s standards. But not by his school’s. They had told him to come to the awards night, but then didn’t present him with anything. The winner was a popular, outgoing boy who was one of the ‘in’ crowd.
He suddenly woke up, looked at the ceiling and realized he had been dreaming. He wondered why missing out on an award while he was a schoolboy should suddenly surface when he was lying in a hospital bed with concussion.
He didn’t know how long he had been asleep, but when he glanced at the bedside clock it showed the time was 6.30am. He was surprised to see that Don was still sat in the same position. He smiled and said “Sorry, not feeling the best. Before you go, can you answer one question for me. How come you didn’t ask me what was the nature of the allegation involving Chan and Lee Wai?”
Don looked at him and smiled. “Oh, didn’t I ask that?” He turned and walked out of the door before Mack could respond.
…………………………………………………………………………………………..
The day after the attack Mack discharged himself from hospital. There was little to be gained by lying in bed. It was time to act.
Lindy had been instructed to tell Ms Martin at Westminster what had happened and that he would be in touch with them again within a few days.
On leaving the hospital he went to Police Headquarters in Arsenal Street and having been signed in, he spent thirty minutes reviewing the profiles of known triad members.
He had quickly recognized his assailant as Luk Wing Fung, a former 429 Red Pole enforcer who had spent three years in Stanley prison for triad related activities. He didn’t indicate to anyone that he recognized him. It appeared Luk had dropped from view after his release. That didn’t make a lot of sense to Mack. The triads were notoriously reluctant to let anyone leave, especially Red Pole enforcers and he would normally have maintained a high profile within the triad organization.
After Mack left Police HQ he returned to his office and phoned a former colleague of his who worked in the Organised Crime and Triad Bureau. Mack asked him what he knew about Luk, but didn’t explain why he was interested in him.
His colleague confirmed that Luk hadn’t come up on their radar since his release. The only useful piece of information he could provide was that before his imprisonment he had been a part owner in the Golden Jade restaurant in Mongkok and had regularly eaten there. It had been a known triad hang out, but in the last few years that had changed. It was now just another restaurant in Mongkok that served poor quality food in drab surroundings.
Two hours later Mack was sat with Ping at a small food stall opposite the Golden Jade restaurant. The pungent smell of frying tofu filled the air, but neither of them had food in front of them. Mack nursed a coke while he explained to Ping who they were looking for. The scarred face would be easy to recognize and Ping wouldn’t need a photo.
“I don’t need you here all the time, just call in around lunchtime and sometime in the evening for the next few days. It is a bit of a long shot, but you never know, he may turn up.” Mack looked up and down the street. The early evening crowd made it difficult to see everyone coming and going, but at least they had a clear view of the entrance to the restaurant.
Ping stood up and walked casually to the door. As he opened it he felt the cool rush of air‐conditioned air. The restaurant had around fifteen tables and was typical for the area. White table clothes, white walls, red carpet and waiters who were long past their retirement age. Whilst it certainly wasn’t salubrious, it was at least clean.
The room was crowded with most of the tables occupied by groups of four or more. On the far side of the room Ping saw an empty table for two, so without waiting to be approached by a waiter he headed for it.
As he passed a large table on his left he glanced and saw a bull of a man talking animatedly to a small group of people. He was wearing a white t-shirt, which barely covered his bulging torso and biceps. His head stood atop an enormous neck, which was partly covered by his long black hair, which fell to his shoulders. Even sat down, the man had an intimidating physique and Ping felt the presence of evil as he walked by.
The man looked up and saw Ping, but he quickly looked away as if dismissing him as being of no consequence or threat. As he did so, Ping’s heart seemed to stop momentarily. The man had a large scar running down the side of his face. Ping kept walking to his table and as he sat down he pulled the mobile from his pocket and pressed the speed button for Mack’s number.
Fifteen minutes later Ping had still not ordered food. The waiter had returned, but Ping had told him he was waiting for a friend to arrive. He then occasionally glanced at his watch with a feigned look of exasperation, hoping to convince people he was annoyed at the late arrival of his dinner companion.
He could clearly see Luk’s table and he was a little surprised by the people sat at it. There were three men and two women, all very non-descript in decent clothes and smart haircuts. They were certainly not triads and if anything looked like teachers or government servants.
After twenty minutes Luk got up from the table, said a few words to the adjoining table as he headed towards the exit. He stopped at the door and talked for a few minutes with one of the waiters. Ping got up and hurried to the door, muttering an excuse to one of the waiters as he passed. As he opened the door he heard Luk say that he would be there again at the usual time the following evening. Ping saw the waiter nod his head as he walked through the door.
A few minutes later Luk left the restaurant and walked out into the oppressive heat. The street was pedestrian only and he stood on the pavement for a few minutes watc
hing several people walk past. He moved a few yards from the entrance before suddenly stopping. He looked up and down the street, but his gaze didn’t linger on anyone and after a few brief moments he moved further down the street.
As he walked he kept looking behind and Mack knew the tell tale sign of someone who was checking to see if he was being followed. Mack hadn’t moved since he had seen the restaurant door open and Luk’s massive frame squeeze through it.
