The Borrowed

by Chan Ho-Kei

  The brain-wave apparatus had worked as advertised, and the Yue family would testify that the unconscious superintendent had ‘assisted in solving the case’. All Inspector Lok needed to do was stand up in court and insist Apple had merely forgotten to turn off the recording function on her computers, and Old Tong would be left with nothing to say. They’d have both physical evidence and damning testimonies. As for whether or not Old Tong admitted his part in Yuen Man-bun’s death, the inspector no longer cared. ‘We’ll leave the prosecution to deal with those details.’

  A couple of taps on his car window. The inspector looked up to see Ah Sing.

  ‘Sir, my condolences,’ he said, opening the car door and sticking his head in.

  ‘Ah Sing, if someday I get ill and fall into a coma...’

  Ah Sing looked Inspector Lok directly in the eye and nodded firmly.

  The inspector smiled bitterly. He knew these methods lay in a grey area, and even though he wouldn’t be caught, they weren’t that different from Old Tong’s ‘foolproof’ crimes. Without question, they went against many principles, but Inspector Lok remembered well something his mentor had once said: ‘You have to remember, the real duty of the police is to protect the residents of this city. If the rules cause an innocent citizen to get hurt, or stand in the way of justice, then we have more than sufficient reason to push aside these inflexible statutes.’

  When an officer joins the force, they go through an oath- taking ceremony. The words had altered because of the change in the country’s sovereignty and restructuring of the force, but concluded in more or less the same way: ‘I will obey without question all lawful orders of those set in authority over me.’ Kwan Chun-dok’s aims clearly challenged this sacred vow, but Inspector Lok understood the difficulty his mentor was in.

  In order to allow other people the luxury of certainty, Kwan Chun-dok had spent his life on the border between black and white. Inspector Lok knew that even if the police force were to descend into corruption or bureaucracy, in thrall to the rich and powerful, placing politics over people, his mentor would continue to keep the faith, to do everything in his power to bring about justice as he knew it. The job of the police is to reveal the truth, to arrest the guilty, to protect the innocent – but when the rules are unable to bring criminals to heel, when truth is obscured, when the innocent have nowhere to turn, Superintendent Kwan was willing to leap into that swamp of grey, using the methods of the unlawful against them.

  Allowing justice to shine in the space between black and white – this was the mission Sonny Lok inherited from Kwan Chun-dok.

  II

  PRISONER’S HONOUR:

  2003

  1

  ‘SIFU, I DON’T think I can do this any more...’

  ‘Don’t worry, Sonny. The Crime Unit was only playing a supporting role in this op, you won’t have to be the fall guy.’

  ‘This was my first time in charge. You know how awful my record is – it wasn’t easy to get a chance at squad leader, and I’ve fallen flat on my face.’

  ‘This really is nothing. If you couldn’t deal with a little setback like this you’d really be unfit to take command.’

  ‘But...’

  On the bleachers of Macpherson Playground, Sonny Lok guzzled his beer, unburdening himself to his mentor Kwan Chun-dok. It was after ten at night, and Macpherson was one of the few quiet spots in the crowded district of Mong Kok. Floodlights shone down on the empty field, while three or four stray cats prowled across the seats. In such cold weather, most people would rather stay indoors than subject themselves to the biting winds. If it were summer, this place would be full of small groups of noisy youngsters, courting couples, and homeless people snoozing on the long benches.

  Kwan Chun-dok and Sonny Lok often enjoyed an icy beer in the cold winter months, meeting in the vastness of the soccer stands. Here, they could speak freely about sensitive work matters without fear of being overheard, and as Kwan was fond of pointing out, bars were a rip-off. ‘For the price of a pub beer, you could get three cans at the supermarket, so why throw money away? If you want bar snacks, a packet of nuts doesn’t cost that much.’ This was his standard response, each time Lok suggested going out for a drink.

  That night, Lok had sought out his mentor to bend his ear about some bad luck he’d had. 2002 had actually been a good year for him, both in terms of career and family, with his wife becoming pregnant after two years of marriage – he’d be a father soon. Around the same time, he was promoted from probationary to full inspector, and put in charge of the Yau-Tsim District (Yau Ma Tei and Tsim Sha Tsui) Crime Unit Team 2 in West Kowloon.

  Sonny Lok had graduated from the Police Academy aged seventeen, and was now twice that age. He was fairly bright and enthusiastic, but his luck wasn’t good – and his misfortunes, coupled with his introverted personality, meant his personal file was filled with criticism. In the Hong Kong Police Force, promotion is earned not just by passing a test but, more importantly, by having a clean record. Hence Lok was overjoyed to receive his probationary inspectorship in 1999, never expecting that a mere three years later he’d be the head of a team within a Crime Unit.

  But he also didn’t predict that his first outing on the frontline would end in such a sound defeat – a disastrous beginning to 2003.

  In the early hours of Sunday 5 January, the police launched Operation Viper, a large-scale drug bust that simultaneously raided a dozen karaoke joints, nightclubs and bars in the Yau Ma Tei and Tsim Sha Tsui districts. Kowloon West Region Crime Wing led the op, which involved more than two hundred officers from the Regional Anti-Triad Unit, the Regional Special Duties Squad and Crime Units from the various districts – including Lok’s. Such wide-ranging operations usually produced results, curbing Triad and drug-dealer activity for a few months. Operation Viper, however, was a resounding failure.

  The entire operation netted less than a hundred grams of ketamine, a few dozen grams of amphetamines and a tiny amount of cannabis. Fifteen people were arrested, though only nine were charged in the end. In the language of the marketplace, the return on the investment was abysmally low.

  As with any other failed venture, people lined up afterwards to assign blame. Because they hadn’t returned empty-handed, the press didn’t give the police too hard a time, but the frosty atmosphere during the internal inquiry left Lok thoroughly on edge.

  ‘I believe the reason we only seized a small quantity of drugs was mistaken information from the Intelligence Unit.’ Inspector Au-yeung, Commander of the Regional Special Duties Squad, fired the first shot.

  ‘I’m pretty sure there was nothing wrong with the intelligence. For all we know, it may have been a leak from within the RSDS that tipped off the dealers,’ drawled Inspector Ma, head of the Kowloon West Intelligence Unit.

  ‘Are you implying there’s a snitch on my team?’ Au-yeung glared furiously.

  ‘Au-yeung, Ah Ma, let’s not lose our tempers,’ said Benedict Lau, Commander of the Kowloon West HQ and chair of the inquiry. ‘Blaming one another won’t help matters. First, let’s see if there were any issues with deployment.’

  Superintendent Lau ran the Kowloon West Crime Wing, and was the highest-ranking officer present. Sonny Lok breathed a sigh of relief at the thawing atmosphere, not realizing what was to come next.

  ‘Let’s start with the Lion Pub on Prat Avenue, Tsim Sha Tsui East,’ continued Superintendent Lau. ‘According to Intelligence, the Hung-yi Union pusher “Fat Dragon” works that patch. Our sentry saw him enter the building, but when we moved in he was nowhere to be found. Yau-Tsim Crime Unit Team 2 was in charge of that pub. Inspector Lok, you were the commanding officer. Would you care to explain?’

  All eyes in the room swivelled to stare directly at Sonny Lok. Stammering, he reported on his placement of officers, said he believed Fat Dragon might have fled from the roof, and described the layout of the place. He wanted very much to explain that although he’d posted officers at every exit to the bar, if the dealer ha
d been given a tip-off before the operation commenced, that was out of their control – but this would point the finger at Intelligence, and Inspector Ma outranked him.

  Of course, if he didn’t point the finger at anyone, their fingers would all point at him: ‘Why wasn’t anyone posted on the roof?’ ‘If the suspect escaped over the rooftops, wouldn’t posting sentries at the exits of neighbouring buildings have prevented that?’ ‘Could it be that Fat Dragon simply walked out the front door, and your officers somehow missed him?’

  What they were looking for, thought Sonny Lok, was a scapegoat.

  ‘Sifu, my deployment was impeccable. I’m certain I didn’t miss anything. Fat Dragon didn’t linger in the bar like normal – that’s not something I could control, is it?’ On the bleachers, Lok took a swig of beer and allowed the alcohol to prod him into grumbling.

  ‘It doesn’t matter. It’s not like Fat Dragon was the only one who escaped that day; the whole operation only netted a few small fry. Benny isn’t going to blame you especially.’ Kwan Chun-dok gulped some beer. Lau was younger than Kwan, and had been his subordinate in the past. The two had worked together at Criminal Intelligence Bureau in Headquarters, Lau in charge of Division A – suspect surveillance and handling informants – and Kwan running Division B, which analysed intelligence reports.

  ‘But...’

  ‘No buts.’ Kwan stroked his stubbly grey chin, smiling. ‘Fat Dragon wasn’t even the main target – the man they really want is that “Giant Deep Sea Grouper”.’

  Lok knew who his mentor was referring to. Fat Dragon was a middle-ranking member of the Hong Kong Triad Hung-yi Union, while the big fish above him was the brains of Hung-yi’s activities in Yau Ma Tei and Tsim Sha Tsui – Chor Hon-keung, aged forty-nine. The police suspected him of being involved in many illegal activities, but had so far been unable to nab him.

  Unlike other underground figures who stayed out of the limelight, Boss Chor was a well-connected entrepreneur. In the early 1980s, he had taken advantage of the booming Hong Kong economy to buy up bars and nightclubs, finding these legitimate businesses excellent for money-laundering. Each nightspot he opened was classier than the last, attracting a clientele of pop stars and record producers. Gradually, he realized that the entertainment world was a short cut to the social status he craved. Around 1991, he founded the Starry Night Entertainment Company and set himself up as an agent, with dozens of singers and models on his books. In recent years, he’d dipped his fingers into the movies, collaborating with film studios on the mainland.

  ‘We’re not going to get Boss Chor as easily as that,’ sighed Lok. ‘His underlings are so loyal I don’t think they’d give us anything on him, not even if we tortured them.’

  Chor ruled his inner circle with a combination of favours and threats that ensured utter compliance. His subordinates knew that if they betrayed their boss, they could run to the ends of the earth and he’d still hunt them down and kill them. But if they obligingly took the rap for him, they’d be set for life. Even while they were inside, their families would be well taken care of. For this reason, the Anti-Triad and Special Duties Squads had long regarded prosecuting Boss Chor as an impossible task, and focused instead on attacking his underground businesses as much as possible.

  In Yau-Tsim, Hung-yi was the biggest Triad presence, with Chor’s clubs and bars comprising eighty per cent of the drug market. The remainder was in the grasp of another Triad, Hing-chung-wo, a Hung-yi splinter group. Five years previously, Hung-yi had controlled Kowloon, but when the boss of the Yau-Tsim area died in an accident, the top cadres ran into intractable disputes trying to carve up the territory amongst themselves. The successor ought to have been the deceased’s right-hand man, Yam Tak-ngok, known as Uncle Ngok. Unexpectedly, Chor Hon-keung staged a coup, secretly gathering support from the heads of various districts until he’d snatched the job for himself. Uncle Ngok still cherished the older generation’s idea of honour amongst thieves, and if Chor had openly challenged him for the leadership, he’d have relinquished power and remained in the Triad as his number two. Instead, Chor’s low-down tactics led him to leave. He decided to set up a new organization, taking dissenters with him, with the reasoning that this would prevent a bloody internal battle.

  Unfortunately, showing kindness to jackals and wolves inevitably means inviting cruelty upon yourself. To begin with, Boss Chor appeared to treat this new rival with respect, proclaiming grandiosely to his gangland friends, ‘Hing-chung-wo sprang from Hung-yi, so we are part of the same family, and if we allow Uncle Ngok some of this territory, the benefits to both of us are clear.’ Yet he soon began using schemes and tricks to swallow up Hing-chung-wo’s strongholds one by one, and five years on had turned a fifty–fifty split into eighty–twenty.

  The Anti-Triad Squad believed that Hing-chung-wo’s continuing decline must eventually goad Uncle Ngok into action. They knew an old-school gent like him wouldn’t use the police against his enemies, but they expected him to leverage his underworld connections. He might not be as powerful as Boss Chor, who had the funds to hire more thugs, but his long history in organized crime had given him a certain amount of influence, and if he were to ask the other gangland bosses for help, Chor Hon-keung would have something to worry about.

  But the police were wrong – they’d forgotten what the years can do to a person.

  Yam Tak-ngok had steadily grown weary of the underworld. He was an old man now, and his fighting spirit had waned. Hing-chung-wo was haemorrhaging members, who were either switching their allegiance to Hung-yi or washing their hands of the business altogether, and Uncle Ngok silently condoned their departure. At this point, his support base consisted of a few loyal subordinates who’d stood by him all these years, as well as some who were unable to stomach Boss Chor’s arrogant ways.

  While Yau-Tsim was still run by the previous Hung-yi boss, the police had been able to maintain some degree of control over the territory, but once Boss Chor arrived on the scene, they had a big headache. Chor would appear at film premieres, soirées, charity banquets and the like, always with a big smile on his face, the model of respectability. There was gossip in artistic circles, for instance when an up-and-coming director got beaten up in a nightclub by unknown assailants after he had made fun of a fashion model represented by Chor. Eventually, he had to settle the matter by ceremonially offering Chor tea as an apology. As for the attackers, when they were arrested they insisted they had no idea who Chor Hon-keung was, and took all the blame themselves. Other rumours told of actresses being kidnapped, radio broadcasters being threatened – and not one of these cases could be directly linked to Chor. When a magazine suggested Chor was behind these unhappy events, he sued them for defamation, and the magazine’s publishers finally had to print an apology and pay him a huge sum in compensation.

  What’s more, all of this was just the tip of an iceberg. The Chor known to the police and Triads was ten times more vicious than the general public was aware. When he first took over, the police began to notice that informants were dying in car accidents, or simply vanishing. Quite a few of these people were addicts who’d turned to the police to fund their ketamine, cocaine, heroin or crystal meth habits; now, many of them abruptly succumbed to ‘overdoses’. The Intelligence Unit knew this was fishy, but without hard evidence, there was no way to even begin an investigation.

  In other words, Boss Chor was a thorn in the side of the police, and they could only treat the symptoms but not the cause.

  What Sonny Lok hadn’t expected was that in Operation Viper, even these symptoms would go untreated.

  ‘Sifu, surely a scumbag like Boss Chor, pretending to be a proper businessman, will slip up one day and be brought to trial, won’t he?’ Lok drained his beer.

  ‘From what I’ve seen, a shrewd operator like him will be hard to catch hold of,’ said Kwan calmly. ‘He’s not going to leave traces of his guilt, and even if he did, no one’s going to take the risk of giving evidence against the notorious Boss Ch
or.’

  ‘But why can’t we just bring him in for questioning? Even if we don’t get anything on him, we might give him a fright.’

  ‘If you already know you won’t get anywhere, what’s the point? Annoying a chap like that without proof, you’ll just end up being scrutinized by the Independent Police Complaints Council, and there’ll be more ugly marks on your record. Why gamble when you know there’s no winning card?’

  ‘If even you talk like this, then I guess we really have no way of dealing with him. Operation Viper showed our hand; Boss Chor may have known we had our eye on him, but now he’s seen all our cards. I don’t know where we go from here.’

  Lok hadn’t realized what a hot potato this Yau-Tsim post was. The Special Duties Squad couldn’t find any evidence of Boss Chor selling drugs, the Anti-Triad intelligence reports failed to implicate him, leaving the Crime Unit nothing to do but investigate those ‘accidental deaths’ due to drug overdoses and the performers getting attacked by unknown persons. Unless one of Chor’s inner circle or a subordinate with an inside knowledge of Hung-yi was willing to testify, Boss Chor would continue to dominate the scene, becoming the emperor of the Yau-Tsim underworld.

  ‘Don’t worry. You’ve only just become a team commander, you’ll have to adapt slowly. Don’t let your subordinates sense your doubt.’ Kwan patted his disciple on the shoulder. ‘You have to be patient when you’re angling for a big fish. If you can’t get him on the hook right away, just still your heart and wait, and keep an eye on the surface of the water. You may only have an instant, when the opportunity arrives...’

  ‘Any opportunity would be welcome.’ Lok smiled grimly. ‘But sir, enough about me. How’s work been treating you?’

  ‘Not too bad. I’m just helping out at Headquarters: Organized Crime and Drugs.’