Second Sister

by Chan Ho-Kei

  “Haven’t you worked it out?” Szeto Wai smiled meaningfully.

  In a flash of inspiration, Chung-Nam saw the answer. “SIQ’s invested in a similar firm in the States?”

  “Right.” Szeto Wai looked directly into Chung-Nam’s eyes. “I won’t give away too many details, but the model your company has for buying and selling information is very like one of our major investments. We think it’s going to develop into the next Tumblr or Snapchat, so we’re getting ahead of the curve and buying up similar companies around the world.”

  “You mean the way Groupon bought up uBuyiBuy?”

  “Yes, just like that.”

  In 2010 two young Hong Kongers had spotted the vast potential in China’s web shopping craze, and had set up a retail website called uBuyiBuy. Six months later, they were bought out by Groupon, which was just expanding into Asia at the time, and they did the same thing in Taiwan and Singapore.

  “Any other questions?”

  “Um … Is SIQ planning to open a branch in Hong Kong?”

  Szeto Wai hesitated. “Why would you think that?”

  “Because we rode here in a Tesla,” Chung-Nam replied. “You said you were in Hong Kong on vacation, Mr. Szeto, so I would expect you to have rented a car. Electric cars aren’t popular here, and none of the local car rental places would offer a Tesla. If you’d borrowed it from a friend, that would have come up in conversation—but you talked about the car as if it were your own. You live in America, but you have your own car in Hong Kong. The only explanation that makes sense is that SIQ is opening a branch here very soon, and this Model S is actually a company car. For all I know, you were at the InnoCentre today making connections with local businesses on behalf of SIQ.”

  “Looks like I made a mistake.” Szeto Wai tapped the wine bottle. “I should have ordered a five-hundred-dollar one.”

  Chung-Nam silently cheered to receive this roundabout compliment.

  “SIQ is preparing to move into China. We’ll set up an office in Hong Kong first, as our Asia HQ,” said Szeto Wai, no longer evasive. “There are a number of new companies on the Mainland set up by very young people who have just as much talent as anyone in the West. China’s economic growth has slowed in the last few years, which is a great opportunity for SIQ to invest and scoop up all these new tech companies that have so much potential. That’s not why I’m in Hong Kong, though. Kyle’s the one with his hand on the wheel right now. I just speak with clients or headhunt now and then.”

  Before coming to dinner, Chung-Nam had looked up everything he could find about SIQ, so he knew Szeto Wai was telling the truth. There’d been quite a few interviews and press conferences on YouTube, but the person speaking was always fifty-something mustachioed Kyle Quincy.

  “If SIQ’s moving into China, does that mean you’re going to take center stage and lead the company in Asia?” asked Chung-Nam. “I guess Mr. Quincy would have more influence in the West, but being Asian, you’ll probably find it easier to connect with people here.”

  “You’re right, though I’m not planning to put myself in the spotlight.” Szeto Wai shrugged. “I’m very happy with my life as it is. I go from country to country, enjoying good food and wine, and never have to worry about my investments. At most, I do a bit of thinking and come up with new ideas for the company. I don’t want to be on the front line. Kyle’s already started looking for someone to head up the Asian branch.”

  “What about Mr. Satoshi?” Two out of SIQ’s three leaders were Asian, after all, and Chung-Nam thought it would be silly of them not to use this advantage.

  “Ha!” Szeto Wai let out a bark of laughter. “God knows where Satoshi is right now, or what he’s doing.”

  “Huh? Isn’t Mr. Satoshi one of SIQ’s directors?”

  “He has a title, that’s all. He hasn’t shown up for any board meetings for years now, and he doesn’t seem interested in what happens to the firm. The guy’s a genius, but he doesn’t have a business brain. That’s just how he is—he’d rather hide away and tinker. I haven’t seen him for several years—don’t even know how to get in touch with him. When the board needs to speak to him, though, he always emails us first. It’s as if he’s keeping a close watch on things. Sometimes I wonder whether he’s hacked into our system and is surveilling us that way.”

  “Is he that good?”

  “If he wasn’t that good, how would Isotope have gotten so many patents?”

  “Patents are one thing, but hacking into your system is another level.”

  “Have you heard of a man named Kevin Mitnick?”

  Chung-Nam shook his head.

  “Kevin Mitnick runs a computer security firm in America. He helps businesses test their systems, looking for vulnerable points where a hacker might get in. He’s very well known in the tech world.” Szeto Wai drew his index finger through the air, as if turning time back. “But before 2000, Mitnick was one of the world’s most feared hackers. The most wanted cybercriminal in the States. He made his way into many business and government networks around the world and stole a significant amount of confidential data.”

  “Ha, he sounds like Mr. Satoshi—Oh.”

  “You said it, not me.” Szeto Wai shot him a look.

  Chung-Nam didn’t press the issue. He knew there were some things that shouldn’t be said too openly. According to what he’d read online, Satoshi Inoue had been involved in the creation of several cybersecurity agreements. It wouldn’t be surprising if he had knowledge and experience of how to break into a network.

  “Enough about that guy,” said Szeto Wai. “Any other questions?”

  Chung-Nam was about to brag that he hacked a bit himself, but he stopped: Was this a third test? It took him a second to find the right question.

  “According to what you said, we’re almost certainly going to get funds from you. Right?”

  “Right.”

  “So tell me—what can I do for you?”

  Szeto Wai smiled with satisfaction; Chung-Nam had correctly deduced that the investment was a foregone conclusion—after all, ten or twenty million Hong Kong dollars was nothing to SIQ—in which case, the request for a report was just a cover.

  “After SIQ invests in your company, of course Kenneth will go on being the manager,” said Szeto Wai. It was all Chung-Nam could do not to laugh out loud at the thought of his boss being described as a “manager.” “But we have no idea if he’ll actually be able to develop the way the parent company would like. I need someone who knows how to observe and adapt, who can keep us up to date, let us know if things are going well.”

  Chung-Nam smiled. “So you want me to be an informant?”

  “That doesn’t sound good. Let’s call you an inside man.” Szeto Wai grinned back.

  “I’m yours to command.” Chung-Nam stood and held out his right hand; Szeto Wai stood too, and they shook on it.

  After that, they went on drinking wine and talking about food and cars. Chung-Nam’s brain was in a completely different place than it was an hour ago. The opportunity he’d been waiting for had finally arrived, and his plan would soon be realized.

  “I should be heading back,” said Szeto Wai, glancing at his watch. It was about nine thirty. “I thought of taking you to a bar next, but I have an early meeting tomorrow, so we should call it a night.”

  Chung-Nam was a little disappointed, but he told himself there was no hurry—he had an entry ticket to SIQ now. “Do you have time for another meal before you head back to America?” he asked.

  “I’ll be in touch—I’ve got your number.” Szeto Wai waved his BlackBerry.

  There was a knock at the door, which had remained shut since the last course was served. Chung-Nam thought this was probably something they did at high-class restaurants when their most honored guests had private business to discuss.

  “Oh, hello Doris.”

  Indeed, it wasn’t a waitress or a sommelier, but Szeto Wai’s assistant. She didn’t say anything, just stood in the doorway waiting for h
is instructions.

  “Where do you live, Chung-Nam?”

  “Diamond Hill.”

  “Ah, I was going to offer you a lift if you were anywhere on Hong Kong Island.” Szeto Wai stroked his chin. “The apartment I’m renting is in Wan Chai.”

  “Don’t worry about it, I can get the MTR. Tsim Sha Tsui station’s just downstairs.”

  “That’s all right, then.”

  As the trio walked out, the purple-clad waitresses and the sommelier in her suit lined up to say a formal goodbye. Chung-Nam wondered why they hadn’t had to pay the bill; then he realized that Doris must have taken care of it.

  After saying goodbye, Chung-Nam almost skipped through the ticket barrier and onto the train. Even though it was long past rush hour and there were plenty of empty seats, he chose to stand in his usual spot by the doors. He got his phone from his briefcase, turned it back on, and quickly answered the messages that had come in during dinner. How could he take advantage of Szeto Wai’s remaining time in Hong Kong to cement their bond?

  This evening had been almost perfect. Nothing was going to spoil his good mood.

  He was wrong.

  As his eyes drifted idly down the aisle, someone caught his attention: a man sitting near the middle of the car. Something wasn’t right. When he took a second look, his puzzlement turned to unease.

  He’d seen this man before.

  Three hours earlier, as he was waiting for Mr. Szeto on Shanghai Street, he’d kept looking around uneasily, worried about being seen by his coworkers or boss. This man had been standing across the road, outside an egg waffle stand, reading a newspaper and looking like he was waiting for a friend. He’d been ten yards from Chung-Nam the whole time, the same distance as now.

  Could that be a coincidence?

  At Mong Kok, Chung-Nam had to change to the Kwun Tong line. He got off the train, looking nervously behind him the whole way. Sure enough, the man was on this other platform too.

  Was he being followed?

  Chung-Nam didn’t want to make any sudden movements in case he tipped off his tail. But who would want to follow him? Had Mr. Lee discovered his secret dealings with SIQ? Or was this industrial espionage? Perhaps anyone who met with Szeto Wai got snooped on like this.

  Chung-Nam suddenly thought of another possibility: The police?

  He reached into his pocket and touched the phone he’d just put away.

  But no, the police would have gone straight to his home. Even if his evil deeds came to light, the police were hardly going to put a plainclothes officer on his tail. It’s not as if he were the mastermind of a criminal gang or anything like that.

  A lot of people got on the train, and Chung-Nam lost sight of the man. He scanned the platform when he got off at Diamond Hill, but the man wasn’t there. He looked around uneasily all the way home—still no sign.

  Had he been worrying over nothing?

  He got back to the small apartment where he lived alone, and sank into thought.

  But then he shook his head and tried to dismiss the whole thing. This evening would be a milestone in his career, and he ought to savor it.

  Ping! A new message.

  He loosened his tie, settled into his comfortable office chair, and awakened his sleeping computer. He closed the pop-up window reminding him about a system update and opened the Popcorn chat he looked at every day after work. At the same time, he glanced at his phone.

  “Could we make it tomorrow at seven?”

  Seeing her message, Chung-Nam couldn’t help flashing back to the man on the train. It felt as if he were a spirit lurking in some corner of Chung-Nam’s apartment, watching his every move.

  2.

  “The train to North Point is arriving. Please let passengers exit first.”

  The platform announcement brought Nga-Yee back to the present. She was at Yau Tong station, waiting to change trains. Ever since hearing Detective Mok’s words at N’s place, her mind wouldn’t stop going back to his revelation.

  Lily Shu was kidkit727.

  Right at the beginning, N had said the post that started everything had the feel of a lawyer defending a client in court, and that he’d follow up on that. Nga-Yee hadn’t expected that he would deputize Detective Mok for this task. She was surprised to learn that Lily had pumped the lawyer’s assistant for information. And the culprit hadn’t merely attacked Siu-Man, but had deliberately waited till after Shiu Tak-Ping’s case was resolved to take her down, gathering material to smear her on the internet.

  The most surprising thing, though, was N’s response.

  “All right, you’ve heard the recording. Now will you leave?”

  That was all he said. As if Martin Tong’s words had no relevance to him.

  “Leave? Doesn’t this recording tell us who the culprit is? Why didn’t you tell me the investigation was over? Were you waiting for me to get my wages so you could extort more from me?”

  “This still isn’t conclusive evidence.”

  Nga-Yee almost exploded at the way N seemed determined to draw this out. Lily Shu had an iPhone, just like the culprit; she’d fought with Siu-Man over a boy, which meant she had a grudge; she was one of the few people who knew what happened in the karaoke bar on Christmas Eve; and the lawyer Mr. Tong had confirmed that she had information about the Shiu Tak-Ping case that the general public didn’t. No matter how you sliced it, Lily was clearly kidkit727. They had witnesses, material evidence, and a motive. How was this not conclusive? The only explanation she could think of was that N was trying to save face: he’d been circling their suspects with his high-tech methods, only to have Detective Mok get there first with old-fashioned legwork.

  She’d argued with N for a few more minutes, but he wouldn’t budge. The most she managed to extract from him was a promise to bring her along the next time he questioned Lily. She was filled with rage all the way home, and she couldn’t sleep at all that night.

  For days now, she’d been thinking about Lily, Kwok-Tai, and Siu-Man. How deep was Lily’s hatred? Even though Siu-Man had stopped speaking to the other two, pulling out of their love triangle, Lily still felt the need to intimidate her by the strongest means possible. When Nga-Yee thought back to the other day, a shiver went through her. If Lily’s tears meant that she regretted going too far and causing Siu-Man to kill herself, at least there was still a shred of humanity left in her. But what if she’d realized that Kwok-Tai was going to reveal their romantic entanglement, and had put on a guilty act to deflect suspicion? If those were crocodile tears, this girl was truly terrifying.

  On Sunday morning Nga-Yee had just arrived at the library to start her shift when her cell phone, which had been silent for days, started ringing.

  “Tomorrow, twelve thirty p.m., Enoch school gates.”

  There was no number on the display, but Nga-Yee recognized N’s voice. When he barked these orders peremptorily at her, she couldn’t stop herself from snapping back, “What the hell? So I’m supposed to be at your beck and call? Aren’t you going to even ask if I’m free?”

  “It’s your day off tomorrow, of course you’re free. If you don’t feel like coming, that’s fine too. I’ll work better without someone dragging at my feet.”

  Nga-Yee’s face flushed red and white with anger.

  “Fine, I’ll be there,” she said coldly, then couldn’t resist adding, “What excuse did you use this time? Or are we going to ambush them at the gates?”

  “We’re returning a book.”

  “You mean we’re giving the Countess back her script?”

  “No.” N’s voice moved away from the receiver, as if he’d turned aside to look at something. “The stack of books Miss Yuen gave us included a school library book. I guess your sister had it in her locker, and Miss Yuen didn’t notice. I’ve phoned Miss Yuen to arrange a meeting; then I got in touch with Kwok-Tai and made some excuse to have lunch with them again.”

  “Siu-Man borrowed a book from the library? What was it?”

  “Anna K
arenina, Volume One.”

  This was a surprise. Siu-Man had always thought that even light reading was too much effort, and she never picked up a novel unless she had to read it for class. Nga-Yee couldn’t imagine her sister having any interest in Tolstoy or Russian literature.

  The next day at half past noon Nga-Yee went to her sister’s school once again. Unlike the previous week, the weather was bright, yet her spirits were darker than ever. She didn’t know how she was going to behave when she saw Lily.

  Should she show her cards, ask Lily why she wanted to hurt Siu-Man? Or would it be better to keep a poker face and just observe, prodding her to see if she was truly regretful? Nga-Yee’s heart was full of doubt and confusion. She loathed the demon who’d forced her sister into suicide, yet when she thought of the two girls’ radiant smiles in that photograph, she couldn’t bear the idea of doing anything to her sister’s former best friend.

  She waited ten minutes, but there was still no sign of N. Lunchtime had arrived; boys and girls in uniform were walking out of the gate in small groups. Just as she was about to call N, her phone pinged and she saw that she had a new text message:

  “Busy. Will come later. You go in first. Arranged to meet Kwok-Tai in library.”

  Nga-Yee frowned, but all she could do was haplessly follow N’s instructions. She walked in and saw the security guard they’d seen the week before, eating his lunch out of a thermos. She said hi.

  “Oh hello, it’s Miss Au, isn’t it? Miss Yuen said you can give me the library book.” He was about sixty and a little plump. Beaming, he added, “Miss Yuen can’t meet you—something came up that she needs to take care of.”

  “What kind of thing?” asked Nga-Yee, a little taken aback.

  “The year-end exam results are supposed to be out tomorrow, and then it’s summer vacation. Something went wrong with the computers, and all the marks are gone. The teachers have to record and check the results manually by tomorrow. Starting this morning, the staff room was in a complete panic. I heard that the IT consultants they hired couldn’t get the data back.”