The Borrowed
Page 9
‘Does HQ Narcotics include you in their investigations, Sifu? Do you have anything you can tell me?’ Lok had West Kowloon and Yau-Tsim between him and Headquarters, and without his mentor giving him the inside scoop, he had no way of knowing what those at the top were up to. Even during his three years in Intelligence he had felt like he was just following orders, not seeing the larger picture at all.
‘Sonny, you know the rules – unless I decide something will help your investigation, I won’t tell you anything concerning other departments.’ Kwan pulled off his black baseball cap – its edges worn, a little grey insignia sewn onto the right side of the brim – and ruffled his hair. ‘You wouldn’t want me to tell Benny Lau about your little rant, would you?’
Lok smiled bashfully. Lau was his boss’s boss, and if he were to hear of anything untoward, there’d be consequences.
‘We should get going.’ Kwan Chun-dok stood, his left hand giving his lower back a couple of quick rubs. ‘If I get home too late, my wife will give me a hard time – though she’ll nag anyway when she sees I’ve been drinking. I’m not supposed to – bad for my joints. Sonny, don’t think too much about it, your time will come.’
‘Sure.’ Lok nodded helplessly. A year ago, he’d started to notice his mentor was ageing. Greying hair aside, he’d never heard Kwan complaining about any physical ailments. Lok knew police officers retired earlier than regular folk, partly because of the stress of the job. Constantly facing life-and-death situations became torture for someone in their forties or fifties.
Kwan Chun-dok lived at Prince Edward Road West, a little over ten minutes’ walk from the Macpherson Playground. Sonny was on Hong Kong Island; not having driven, he would have to take a minibus home.
‘See you later.’ Kwan pulled on his cap, grasped his stick and walked slowly in the direction of Argyle Street.
After parting from his mentor, Sonny Lok walked along Nathan Road, boarding the Shau Kei Wan bus near Shan Tung Street. There were only three other passengers. The driver was idly flipping through a magazine, waiting for all sixteen seats to be full before he set off. The speakers blared a local radio station, music interspersed with DJs chatting and joking.
Sonny Lok stared out the window.
Mong Kok was dazzling as always. The multicoloured neon lights, glittering shop windows, throngs of pedestrians – as if the city knew no night. This bustling scene was a microcosm of Hong Kong, a city that relied on finance and consumption for survival, though these pillars were not as sturdy as people supposed. In recent years, unemployment was up and growth was slowing, and the government’s performance was slipping – almost ripping through the veneer of a flourishing economy. Mong Kok was like an engine that couldn’t stop running, fuelled by cash day and night, and when the legal sources of this fuel ran dry, dirty money came in to fill the tank.
Once Boss Chor had complete control over Yau-Tsim, Lok reckoned he’d set his sights on Mong Kok. This district had grown turbulent in recent years, and Chor would probably have to use even stronger tactics to defeat all his rivals and seize the drug trade entirely for himself.
‘Let’s have a new tune! This is “Baby Baby Baby”, the latest from Candy Ton. Her album is being released on the 30th.’
Sonny Lok felt a wave of disgust rising in him. Even though the song now coming through the speakers had a catchy beat and the singer’s voice was sweet, it made him sick.
This girl, Candy Ton, belonged to Starry Night Entertainment. And her music was like a layer of sparkling white sugar concealing rotting flesh below, black and full of maggots.
2
THE WEEK AFTER Operation Viper, Sonny Lok handed his report to Superintendent Lau. Just as Kwan had predicted, there were no internal sanctions after the inquiry, and even though Lok couldn’t furnish a satisfactory reason for his failure, his team didn’t receive any blame. During this time, he was careful not to show even a trace of despair in front of his subordinates, frequently repeating, ‘We just ran into a bit of bad luck, we’ll do better next time.’ As a result, his team began to place a little more trust in their young new commander.
The Crime Unit mainly investigated cases of murder, grievous bodily harm, kidnapping, sexual offences and armed robbery. Underworld activity was the remit of the Anti-Triad Unit, and narcotics of the Special Duty Squad. For the moment, Sonny Lok set aside the affair of Boss Chor and the Hung-yi Union, and buried himself in his other work. The Crime Unit had a whole heap of open cases, not to mention all the administrative work that would take lots of overtime to complete. Even though they could kick simple cases down to the Investigation Team, in this crowded city the Crime Unit’s work was never done.
‘Commander, have you heard the rumour?’ said Lok’s subordinate Ah Gut, putting down his newspaper. It was eight in the morning of 16 January, and Lok had just walked into the office.
‘What rumour?’ Lok set down his briefcase.
‘Eric Yeung Man-hoi was attacked last night, in a nightclub on Granville Road.’
‘Eric Yeung Man-hoi? Who’s that?’ Lok couldn’t connect this name to a case.
‘You know, that new movie star.’
Lok stared at Ah Gut, his expression protesting, ‘I’m not a tabloid reporter, how would I know this stuff?’
‘Commander, even if you don’t know who he is, we might have to take this case.’
‘Sure. Granville Road is within our beat, and the victim’s a public figure, we ought to... Will those entertainment journalists start bothering us? Those idiots don’t even know what to ask...’
‘No, Commander, Eric Yeung hasn’t filed a police report, and this is just a rumour. I don’t even know if it actually happened.’
‘Just a rumour? Actors get drunk and make trouble all the time. If no one called the police, our unit has no reason to get involved.’
‘This wasn’t a bar brawl. He walked into an ambush. That’s a Triad tactic.’
Lok now understood what Ah Gut was getting at. ‘Boss Chor?’
‘Probably.’ Ah Gut grimaced. ‘A fortnight ago, at a New Year’s Eve party at Jay’s Disco on Canton Road, Eric Yeung met Candy Ton – the singer, seventeen years old, one of Boss Chor—’
‘One of Boss Chor’s Starry Night entertainers, I know.’
‘Right, so Yeung probably had too much to drink, lunged at the girl, groped her and what not, and when she pushed him away, he started calling her a stinking whore, Boss Chor’s plaything... Candy Ton left in a hurry after that. Then last week, Eight-Day Week ran an exclusive report with pictures, though with so many embellishments, who knows what really happened.’ Eight-Day Week was a gossip rag that had skewed reporting down to a fine art.
‘So you think Candy Ton complained during their pillow talk, and Chor Hon-keung sent some thugs to teach the young pup a lesson?’ The word was that Boss Chor had had a fling with every actress and female model on his roster. If you wanted the boss to boost your career, you first had to offer him your body.
‘That’s my guess.’
‘Why would Boss Chor wait two weeks to retaliate?’
‘Yeung was in Shanghai shooting a movie. Only got back two days ago.’
‘Oh, I see.’ Lok sat down, his hands intertwined. ‘How bad are his injuries?’
‘I heard not too bad, just some bruises on his pretty face, a few punches to his torso.’
‘He didn’t go to the hospital?’
‘No.’
‘And he didn’t call the police, so he probably knows who was behind it.’
‘Seems likely.’
‘Then there’s nothing we can do.’ Lok waved dismissively. ‘He wasn’t beaten to death, so we can’t get involved. Even if public opinion forces us to do something, going by what’s happened before, we’ll just arrest some two-bit gangsters who’ll say they came up with the whole idea, and Boss Chor keeps that innocent look plastered on his face, maybe even scares Eric Yeung into having a meal with him, so the papers have a picture of them being all buddy-buddy. Case closed.’r />
‘This time it’s different. There might be trouble ahead.’ Ah Gut crinkled his brow.
‘How’s that?’
‘There’s no proof, and this only came out after the attack, but if it’s true, this won’t blow over as easily as before...’ Ah Gut paused. ‘Eric Yeung’s biological father is named Yam.’
Sonny Lok stared at Ah Gut, stunned. ‘As in Yam Tak-ngok? Uncle Ngok?’
Ah Gut nodded.
Lok leaned back in his chair, tapping his forehead. This did put a wrinkle in it. Given the existing Chor–Yam rivalry, now that one had attacked the other’s son, there might well be some payback.
‘Any movement over at Hing-chung-wo?’
‘Not at the moment, though I’ve spoken to Intelligence, and they’ll let us know if anything crops up.’ Ah Gut scratched at his cheek. ‘Prevention is better than cure. If we can get both sides to hold their fire, or if we can swoop in and arrest the lot at the first sign of violence, that’d be best.’
Lok nodded. Ah Gut was a veteran on the Yau-Tsim Crime Unit, and his work was excellent. Having such a subordinate gave Lok a little relief from the hot potato he’d just caught.
‘Actually,’ said Ah Gut thoughtfully, ‘given Yam Tak-ngok’s personality, it’s unlikely he’ll pick a fight directly with Boss Chor. He seems to be pulling back from the scene, and Hing-chung-wo has lost so many men that Hung-yi is sure to win anything they start.’
‘But will he be able to stomach his own son being humiliated like that?’
‘It’s hard to say. Back when Boss Chor kicked Yam aside, the old guy just took it, for the sake of keeping the peace.’ Ah Gut gestured at the photo of Uncle Ngok on Lok’s noticeboard. ‘This dude’s an old-school gangster, not an upstart like Chor.’
‘Even if he can swallow it, his gang might feel the need to take revenge on behalf of their boss.’ Lok jerked his thumb at the photos below Yam’s.
‘Possible. Harder to prevent than street fighting. And what if...’
‘What if someone does attack Boss Chor, and innocent people get dragged in?’
Ah Gut nodded. ‘No matter who wins, as soon as there’s public violence, we’re in trouble. Boss Chor swans around as the head of an entertainment company. If he gets openly assaulted and we’re not seen doing anything about it, people will say the police must be useless against the Triads.’
‘I’ll formally notify Intelligence. Open a file for this case, and tell Mary that you and she will be keeping tabs on Hung-yi and Hing-chung-wo, as well as verifying that rumour. Hopefully this time we’ll get a jump on them.’
‘Yes, Commander.’ Ah Gut stood a little straighter to accept the order. As he turned to go, he suddenly thought of something else. ‘Even if we don’t manage to stop them, and some Hing-chung-wo lowlife strikes first, that might still be good. We can’t deal with Boss Chor anyway; why not fight evil with evil? We get a freebie, and everyone’s happy.’
‘Ah Gut, I’d love to see Boss Chor get torn limb from limb, but if we went down that route, what kind of police officers would we be? Besides, if it came to a gunfight here in the city, I don’t think I’d ever forgive myself if some child got caught in the crossfire.’
‘Yes, Commander, you’re right.’ Ah Gut stood at attention again and raised his hand in a salute before departing.
There was a thick layer of mud at the bottom of the lake; best not to stir it, to keep the water as pristine as possible. Scoop away the muck very carefully, a little at a time. Too much and you’d foul the whole lake, destroying its ecology.
The following day, Intelligence confirmed that Eric Yeung had indeed been ambushed the day before, and that he had harassed Candy Ton two weeks previously. The most important fact – his parentage – was also verified.
Lok got the detailed report from Ah Gut. Eric Yeung was twenty-two years old. Brought up by his mother, a nightclub mama-san named Yeung, he seldom saw his father. Yam Tak-ngok had never used his underworld connections to give his son a leg up in showbiz – so few had known of their relationship. A year ago, Eric Yeung had got a lot of public attention for playing the hero’s sidekick in a film, and hadn’t stopped working since. With only four movies under his belt, he was already considered a rising star.
After the attack, neither Hung-yi nor Hing-chung-wo acted any differently. Informants reported only that Uncle Ngok had issued instructions that he would personally sort out the matter of his son and Boss Chor, and his gang should stay out of it – it would be disrespectful to him if they retaliated on their own. It was as Ah Gut said: Yam Tak-ngok was very patient, for a Triad leader.
Sonny Lok opened the next folder to read about Candy Ton. She’d joined Starry Night three years ago, and after a massive publicity campaign last year, her sweet voice and attractive looks had propelled her into the limelight. The case file didn’t mention her relationship with Boss Chor, but in Lok’s eyes, she was no different from any low-ranking member of the underworld. Petty thugs worked themselves to the bone for the organization, smuggling drugs, starting fights, pimping, all in order to climb up the ranks, with no idea of how they were being exploited. Candy Ton was offering her body and youth to Boss Chor in exchange for fame – but she was merely a money tree to him. She and the gangsters would end up in the same place by different paths.
Four days after the attack – 20 January – Intelligence had nothing new to report, while the gossip magazines murmured that Eric Yeung had been beaten up. Of course they didn’t dare use Boss Chor’s name, saying only that Yeung ‘might’ have offended ‘someone’ powerful, and that he only had himself to blame. Lok breathed a sigh of relief that they all failed to mention the likeliest source of conflict – Eric Yeung’s parentage.
Even with neither Triad making a move, Lok couldn’t relax. He decided to give his mentor a call.
‘Hi, Sonny, I’m surprised you have the time to chat,’ came Kwan Chun-dok’s voice.
‘A little.’ Lok kept his voice light. ‘I was calling to ask how you were, and to see if you had time next week for a meal.’
‘I’m tied up with this Wan Chai prostitution ring. They’re connected to a group that trafficks young girls from the mainland. I won’t have time next week... but aren’t you occupied with the case of Yam Tak-ngok’s son?’
Lok was momentarily stunned, not having expected his mentor to cut straight to the chase like that. Since the subject had come up, he decided to ask his questions directly.
‘That’s right. Sifu, have you heard anything new? Like who was responsible?’
‘Almost certainly Boss Chor,’ said Kwan simply.
‘I’d guess so too. And now there might be open conflict between them. I don’t want assassinations or gang brawls happening on my turf.’
‘You don’t need to worry about that. Yam Tak-ngok’s not going to send his men to their deaths just because of his son, and if it came to the crunch, Hing-chung-wo would be outnumbered ten to one.’
‘Sure he won’t send anyone to confront Boss Chor?’
‘He’s in the same position as us: unless anyone could get rid of Chor’s entire gang by the roots, how would any of us dare touch even a hair on his head?’
‘Sifu, I’ve got a question. Could Boss Chor have known from the start that Eric Yeung was Uncle Ngok’s bastard son?’
‘Chor’s never given two hoots about other people’s families. Besides, why pick on a rival’s son?’
‘Reduce the other side’s power? Attack their reputation?’
‘Eric Yeung isn’t part of Hing-chung-wo, so hurting him won’t help Hung-yi. Besides, it was Yeung who started it by harassing Candy Ton. This is just business as usual – someone insults a Starry Night client, Boss Chor sends thugs to “teach them a lesson”.’
Lok thought his mentor had a point, but still felt uneasy. ‘Do you think we ought to leave things here?’
‘Well, I won’t lie to you, HQ Narcotics is investigating Yam Tak-ngok – they have lots of proof they can use directly against him�
��’ An electronic beep cut in. ‘Ah, call waiting. Let’s stop there. Call me another time about dinner.’
‘Sifu—’ But before Lok could say any more, his mentor had hung up.
Kwan’s last words made Lok nervous. Was this new drug investigation supposed to deal with Uncle Ngok? Was it taking advantage of Hing-chung-wo’s state, weakened by Hung-yi and ripe for the picking? A quick strike might make the police look good. Yet if Hing-chung-wo were disbanded, wouldn’t the main beneficiary still be Chor Hon-keung?
Lok shook his head and dismissed the thought. The Crime Unit wasn’t Special Duties nor Anti-Triad. Whether or not Hing-chung-wo was annihilated, their job was to tackle crime, to prevent further disruption to the lives of ordinary people. As for getting rid of drugs and dealing with the swaggering Triad bosses, that was for their colleagues. They had to trust their fellow officers.
But on 22 January, six days after the attack on Eric Yeung, Sonny Lok’s fears that this incident would have further repercussions came true.
3
‘COMMANDER, WE’VE GOT a suspicious package.’ Ah Gut rapped on Lok’s open door.
‘What’s it say?’ Lok looked up from the document he was studying.
‘Um, I think it’s best if you see it for yourself.’
In the main office, Lok’s team were huddled around Ah Gut’s desk, on which was a pile of letters. The top one was a manila envelope, about eight inches long, with ‘Inspector Lok, Yau-Tsim Crime Unit’ scrawled on it in marker pen.
‘No postmark – it didn’t come in the mail,’ noted Ah Gut.
No one here would treat an unknown item lightly. The thinness and size of the envelope suggested it wasn’t a bomb, but Lok was still extremely careful as he slit the tape, in case it held razor blades or anthrax. But no, there was nothing except a CD, encased in card.
On the card, in the same writing as the envelope, was a message seemingly scribbled in haste: ‘I’m just a cowardly reporter, scared of getting into trouble.’
‘An anonymous tip-off?’ said Mary, squinting at the writing. Mary was the only woman on Lok’s team; a staunch feminist, she more than held her own in the male-dominated environment.