by Chan Ho-Kei
‘And you’ve caught him?’ Chor said in a low voice. Although his suit remained expensive and crisp, his posture no longer resembled that of a respectable businessman.
‘Our colleagues are pursuing inquiries. We should have our target by tomorrow.’ Lok turned to him with a meaningful smile.
‘Then you still don’t have any evidence right now?’ said Chor. ‘Everything you’ve said is conjecture. John, did you take note of how many things Inspector Lok just said that constitute defamation?’
The lawyer froze momentarily, not having expected to be called on. He stammered, ‘Um, yes, if these words were heard by the public, that’d be grounds for a lawsuit.’
‘Inspector Lok, you still want to play? I’ll meet you every step of the way,’ grinned Chor slyly. ‘Go ahead and detain me for forty-eight hours. But if you don’t get anything on me, be prepared for an avalanche of lawsuits as soon as I get out.’
‘I have no plans to detain you. This time tomorrow, I’ll formally arrest you. I only came to find you today to tell you something important.’ Inspector Lok stood. ‘I don’t care whether you’re a Triad boss or high-class entrepreneur, whatever it is, I’m not buying it. My colleagues might be afraid to bring you back to the station, but I’m not. Don’t think you’re free to do as you like.’
With that, Inspector Lok flung open the interview-room door and indicated that the two men were free to leave. Boss Chor looked like he’d never been so humiliated. Without another word, he stalked out, the lawyer behind him, glaring at Lok as he left.
‘Commander, so there was blood on the railing? I don’t remember seeing that in the report,’ said Ah Gut in the corridor.
‘No, that photo was faked.’
‘Oh?’
‘Ah Gut, tell the uniforms and Surveillance that it’s a full alert tonight for Hung-yi Union, especially their armed units in charge of operations. I’ve set the bait; let’s see if Chor will take it.’
‘Take the bait? You mean he might try to get rid of those four killers tonight?’
‘Right. I set him a deadline because I wanted him to be anxious – he’ll deal with those four before tomorrow. No matter what happens, we have to keep at least one of them alive, so he can testify.’
Lok remembered his mentor’s words: ‘In these Triad cases, the mastermind is never directly involved, and you won’t find any material evidence linking him to the crime. That’s why you’ll have to find a witness.’
‘Yes, Commander.’ Ah Gut nodded and returned to the outer office.
Lok might have put up a show of bravado, but in truth he wasn’t feeling certain of victory. His entire future and career were riding on this gamble, and he knew the odds were only fifty–fifty.
‘Not bad.’
Lok hadn’t realized someone was behind him, but the voice didn’t startle him too much. Kwan Chun-dok was hobbling towards him, his short walking stick in his left hand.
‘Sifu? Why are you— Oh, you mean the Chor Hon-keung case?’ Lok had been about to ask his mentor why he was at the station, but decided against it.
‘Of course.’ Kwan pointed at the interview room, which was fitted with surveillance apparatus. ‘I saw the whole thing.’
‘But we still don’t know whether Boss Chor will give himself away...’ Lok sighed.
‘Come on, Sonny, let’s go outside. We’ll have a walk. Your subordinates can take care of all this, you don’t need to waste your energy.’
‘Outside? Where to?’
‘To solve the case,’ Kwan Chun-dok smiled enigmatically.
6
SONNY LOK FOLLOWED his mentor to the station car park.
‘Give me the keys, I’ll drive,’ said Kwan. He had a licence, but no car of his own – he was fond of saying that it cost too much to own a car in Hong Kong, what with gas and parking, so why bother driving, especially when public transport was so convenient? That said, he was always getting lifts from colleagues or subordinates, and Lok often ended up serving as his personal chauffeur.
‘Hmm?’ Lok handed over the keys, uncomprehending.
‘It’s simpler than trying to explain the route to you.’
Pulling out of Tsim Sha Tsui station, the car headed in the direction of the Cross-Harbour Tunnel.
‘Where are we going?’ asked Lok.
‘Sheung Wan.’ Kwan clutched the steering wheel, glancing at Lok. ‘By tomorrow, you’ll be the talk of the town, the new commander who brought in Yam Tak-ngok and Boss Chor for questioning. Both sides will be calling you a hard-boiled detective.’
‘If we don’t find evidence of Boss Chor’s guilt tonight, this hard-boiled detective is going to be put out to pasture.’
‘Well, Sonny, to be honest, you’ve underestimated Boss Chor,’ said Kwan. He might as well have stabbed Lok in the thigh. Lok turned to stare in agitation at his mentor.
‘I’ve underestimated him?’
‘You’ve learned some good tricks from all your years with me. This one, “luring the snake from its hole”, would work on most criminals. But Chor’s a deep one. He might see through you.’
‘You mean, he might sit on his hands, and not strike against Candy Ton’s killers?’
‘Chor is different from the other Triad bosses, more far-seeing.’ Kwan steered the car into the tunnel. ‘Think about it. After seizing control in Hung-yi, he spent the next five years steadily usurping Yam Tak-ngok’s power. He might seem rough and vicious, but underneath all that is some very intricate planning. There was a flaw in your tactics earlier, and an opponent like Chor would be sure to detect it.’
‘A flaw?’
‘You couldn’t explain why you brought him in so publicly today,’ Kwan said. ‘If the police really did have a piece of evidence as important as the killer’s blood sample, you’d already be looking at a suspect, so why tell him all this instead? Just for the sake of playing detective?’
‘He might have thought I was a rookie, just trying to assert my authority.’
‘If you really were that useless, you’d never have been able to deduce all those details. Your conjectures told him you were an accomplished gambler, but out of chips. To alert your opponent before the final battle – that proved you were all noise and no action.’
Lok opened his mouth but said nothing. He wanted to insist there was still a chance Chor might fall for it, but he knew his mentor was probably right.
‘Sonny, you won’t solve the Candy Ton case, because your opponent is too wicked.’
As the car pulled out of the tunnel, late afternoon sunlight flooded its interior, but Lok saw only darkness. Kwan’s words were like a judge’s sentence. Yet, unexpectedly, he wasn’t worried about his own future at all, but anxious at the thought of a criminal evading the law.
After a long silence, he asked disconsolately, ‘Sifu, can you think of a way to catch Boss Chor?’
‘Of course!’ chuckled Kwan. ‘Why else would I bring you out here?’
‘What are we doing in Sheung Wan? Chor’s influence hasn’t extended to Hong Kong Island, has it?’ Lok peeked out the window. They were turning into Queen’s Road Central.
‘We’re going to see someone named Chiang. Ah, no, I should say Kong now.’
‘Oh?’ This was unexpected. The drugs case witness. ‘Didn’t you say Chiang Fu’s testimony didn’t relate to Boss Chor?’
‘That’s right, he’s only a witness in the Yam Tak-ngok case.’
Lok had no idea what his mentor was up to, but not wanting to appear foolish, he kept his mouth shut. In a short while, Kwan parked the car by the roadside. ‘We’re here.’
Climbing out of the car, Lok looked around. They were near Bridges Street in Sheung Wan. Although relatively close to Central, there were a number of tenement buildings in this area, destined for demolition and rebuilding in the near future.
‘This way.’ Kwan walked in front, until they got to the entrance of a five-storey building with a dilapidated exterior wall on Wing Lee Street. Lok guessed it must be a
Witness Protection safe house.
The two men walked up the stairs to the third storey. There was only one apartment on each level, with flimsy metal gates in front of each front door. Kwan Chun-dok pressed the doorbell, but there was no sound at all within the flat. Just as Lok was wondering if the bell was broken, the wooden door swung open. Standing behind the gate was a plump woman in her forties, dressed casually in an orange T-shirt with cartoon characters on it. She looked nothing at all like a Witness Protection police officer.
The woman’s face didn’t change when she saw Kwan, as if she’d been expecting him. She let the two men into the apartment.
‘Sorry to trouble you, young Miss Koo,’ said Kwan. Lok was startled by this form of address, but perhaps his mentor had first known her twenty years ago, when the lady would indeed have been a ‘young miss’.
‘I’m a little busy today, sir, so I’ll have to leave the two of you to it.’ Miss Koo closed the front door, then walked into a room to the right of the sitting room, and shut the door on them. The apartment was not what Lok had expected – he’d envisioned a Hong Kong flat from the sixties or seventies, but instead the living room was exceedingly contemporary, with shiny wooden floorboards, chairs and tables designed with fluid outlines, a fifty-inch TV in front of a genuine leather sofa, and elegant recessed lights in the ceiling. Such sumptuous furnishings made Sonny gape – who’d have thought the police would spend that kind of money?
‘This isn’t a safe house,’ Kwan smiled, guessing what Lok was thinking from his expression. ‘It’s Miss Koo’s home.’
‘And who’s Miss Koo? She’s not from the force, is she?’
‘Of course not – she’s as far from the police as you could possibly get. You might say she’s a criminal,’ said Kwan, deadpan.
‘A criminal?’ gasped Lok. Was Miss Koo another informant, then?
Kwan Chun-dok grinned but said nothing, instead walking over to a door on the left of the sitting room and knocking. In a moment, the door clicked open.
‘Hello, Superintendent Kwan.’ Lok saw the speaker was a young woman with a ponytail and glasses, extremely deferential towards his mentor.
‘Sonny, let me introduce you. This is Honey Kong.’
Lok stuck out his hand. Honey hesitated, but after a moment reached out to shake it. If he remembered right, her real name was Chiang Li-ni, and she was the daughter of that Yam Tak-ngok witness—
‘Isn’t Chiang Fu in?’ Lok stuck his head into the side room. It was spacious, but it was obvious at a glance that no one else was there. Honey looked uncomprehending at his question.
‘Of course he’s not in,’ answered Kwan.
‘Aren’t we here to see Chiang Fu?’
‘No, we’re here for Chiang Li-ni.’
‘This girl?’
‘That’s right.’
‘Why?’
‘Chiang Fu, his wife Lin Zi, and their son and daughter – the whole family of four – have enrolled in the Hong Kong Police Witness Protection Programme,’ said Kwan.
‘I know. I’ve seen the document.’
‘You weren’t listening carefully. I said “family of four”.’
Lok saw the discrepancy. ‘But doesn’t Chiang Fu have three children? Chiang Li-ni, Chiang Li-ming and Chiang Guo-xuan...’
Kwan didn’t answer, only gestured at Honey Kong’s – Chiang Li-ni’s – hair. She let down her ponytail, pulled off the glasses and looked up, sweeping her long hair to one side.
Lok didn’t understand what this meant, but just as he was about to ask, something about her expression tugged at his memory – and then the pieces fell into place with a shock that was like a rush of blood to the head.
‘You’re... you’re Candy Ton?’ he stammered.
Honey Kong nodded, smiling bashfully.
Lok could barely see the resemblance in this plainly-dressed girl with no make-up. She seemed a completely different person from the sultry siren on magazine covers.
‘Why’s Candy Ton here? Isn’t she dead? Didn’t we find her body?’ Lok flung out one question after another. Candy rising from the dead completely overturned his understanding of the case, filling his mind with contradictions.
‘Sonny, this case is ten times more complicated than you think.’ Superintendent Kwan patted his protégé’s shoulder. ‘Let’s sit down, we can talk it over slowly.’
Lok and his mentor sat on the sofa, and Candy brought them tea before settling herself into the armchair. As she set down their cups, Lok kept his eyes fixed on her face, trying to work whether or not she was the real Candy Ton.
‘Sonny,’ Kwan sipped his tea, ‘you’ve been in charge of the Candy Ton murder case, but in truth, that case has never existed. It’s just one link in the chain of an operation.’
‘What operation?’
‘To catch the “Giant Deep Sea Grouper”.’
‘Boss Chor?’
‘Of course.’
‘Sir, you mean Candy Ton’s death was completely manufactured? A fake case to fool the courts into convicting Boss Chor?’
‘It’s true Candy Ton’s murder never happened. We weren’t trying to frame anyone, though. That sort of thing might have gone on in the bad old days of the seventies, but we’d never get away with it now.’ Kwan chuckled. ‘Like I said, Candy is just one link in the chain of the operation. This all began far earlier than you imagine.’
‘From the attack on Eric Yeung?’
‘No, from the preparations for Operation Viper.’
Lok was stunned. ‘But that was last November!’
‘That was a link in the chain too,’ smiled Kwan gently.
None of this made sense to Lok. He felt he’d been plunged into thick fog.
‘Let me start from the beginning.’ Kwan put his feet up. ‘Sonny, you remember me saying that the only way to catch a crafty old fox like Boss Chor is eyewitness testimony? But none of his underlings were willing to betray him, and even the informants who gave us snippets were mostly eliminated. His regime was almost watertight.’
‘So no one was willing to testify.’
‘You’re mixing two things up.’ Kwan waggled a finger at him. ‘Boss Chor’s underlings didn’t dare to testify – it wasn’t that they weren’t willing. Outside Hung-yi, it was the other way round: we found people who didn’t want to testify, although they wouldn’t have been afraid to.’
Lok was muddled at first, but after thinking through it, he realized who his mentor was referring to.
‘Yam Tak-ngok?’ he said suspiciously.
‘Precisely.’ Kwan nodded, apparently pleased. ‘Yam Tak-ngok was in Hung-yi Union for more than forty years. He watched Boss Chor enter the underworld, and knew his operations inside out. The problem was, no Triad leader would co-operate with the police. Yam Tak-ngok is old-school, the sort who values his code of honour more than his old life. There’s no way he’d rat on Chor Hon-keung. Sonny, do you know about the Prisoner’s Dilemma?’
‘Yes, it’s one of the basics of game theory.’
The Prisoner’s Dilemma was a scenario in which two criminals were arrested, kept separate, and told that if neither betrayed the other, they’d each be sentenced to a month in jail; if they both betrayed each other they’d each serve one year; and if only one betrayed the other, the betrayer would be instantly released, while the betrayed would serve ten years. The best outcome for them both would be to remain silent and serve the shorter sentence, but they’d have no way of knowing if they were being betrayed. In order to avoid the long sentence, they’d both choose to betray the other, and each would have to serve a year. This exercise shows that the rational choice for an individual doesn’t always lead to the greatest good – and may produce perverse outcomes.
‘The Prisoner’s Dilemma falls apart when it comes to Chor and Yam,’ said Kwan. ‘Yam Tak-ngok knows very well there’s a good chance he’d be betrayed, but would still choose silence – making Boss Chor the big winner. Meanwhile Chor is completely certain Yam won’t bet
ray him. Yam isn’t trying to protect Chor, only this “honour” he so believes in – Chor’s counting on that, which is how he was able to seize power five years ago, and has been gradually increasing his influence since.’
Kwan paused, then went on, ‘So the simplest way to deal with Boss Chor was to shatter Yam Tak-ngok’s conception of underworld honour. If Uncle Ngok no longer stood by his faith, the balance between the two of them would fall apart, and Chor’s line of defence would be gone. Uncle Ngok turning state’s evidence would surprise Boss Chor’s underlings. They’d think he was finished, and rush to join Uncle Ngok in denouncing him, to protect their own positions. Outlaws are the same the world over, especially the lower-ranking ones. Very few of them would actually put their lives at risk for their bosses. This operation to encircle Chor was intended to create a Prisoner’s Dilemma. Make each isolated prisoner think he’s about to be betrayed, and teach him that only betraying in turn can bring the greatest benefit.’
‘I don’t understand what any of this has to do with Candy Ton’s fake death.’ Lok turned to look at her, uncomprehending. ‘And who on earth is she, anyway? Is she an undercover cop?
‘Last month, Interpol sent us a report that a South-east Asian drug ring’s accountant was about to switch sides,’ said Kwan, ignoring Lok’s questions.
‘Chiang Fu?’
‘Right. But HQ Narcotics discovered that Chiang Fu’s evidence and testimony would only put Yam Tak-ngok behind bars. Knowing that Hing-chung-wo was likely to vanish from Yau-Tsim before too long, putting Yam in prison seemed to be letting Chor off too easily. So they sat on the information. Then in October, Benny Lau got hold of Candy Ton, and the operation finally started moving.’
‘Superintendent Lau?’ Sonny hadn’t expected his superior’s superior to suddenly crop up in the conversation.
