by Chan Ho-Kei
Sonny had now spent twenty minutes in the bathroom without uncovering even a whisper of new evidence. He left dejectedly, and was about to head back to Building S, when he suddenly recalled his commander’s words: ‘Go through the hospital’s security footage and find that long-haired man.’
Why hadn’t the long-haired man escaped together with Shek?
Walking down the staircase, Sonny noticed a window that gave the same view as the one in the bathroom. It had metal bars across it. He tugged them, but they didn’t move, and on closer inspection were covered in dust. He continued downstairs and walked along the corridor, round the corner, until he was beneath the bathroom window. This took him about half a minute.
‘If I were an accomplice, why not just leave in the getaway car?’ he wondered. ‘He couldn’t have gone through the stairwell window, but even running this way, and then the thirty metres to the car – he could do that in twenty seconds, at a sprint. Was he afraid the hospital guards might stop him? But the bad guys had sub-machine guns – even if things went wrong, firing a few rounds should have been enough for them to get Shek out anyway.’
In order to escape, a convict needs to get out of his handcuffs and evade his guards. Shek had already done these two things when he leaped from the window, and if Long Hair was his accomplice, then his job was already done. There’d be no more need to keep a low profile, so why not just run?
Sonny couldn’t put his finger on it, but something about this case wasn’t right. Shek Boon-tim was a famously merciless felon, and he might be a brainbox, but his followers were a bunch of desperadoes. Look at the way they started a gunfight with the police after the accident – it was clear they had no compunction or respect for the law. Given that, why didn’t Shek’s escape take an even easier form – have the long-haired guy shoot the two prison officers dead, then escape together?
Why had Shek chosen such a roundabout method? Did his conscience act up, making him reluctant to kill? Or was he uncertain whether the officers escorting him would be armed, and an exchange of fire might have caused the plan to fail?
Sonny thought hard, but couldn’t come up with a plausible explanation.
As he stood on the driveway, an ambulance drove past and he returned to the present. Looking at his watch, he realized he’d been gone a full half hour and rushed back to the reception area, trying to think how to explain himself to the commander. He hoped the older man hadn’t given up and wandered off.
Back in Building S, he was surprised to see Kwan leaning against the front desk, laughing and chatting with the nurse at reception. She was beaming too, a completely different person.
‘Sonny, there you are. You took your time in the bathroom.’ Kwan turned back to the nurse. ‘I won’t take up any more of your time. Nice talking to you.’
‘Commander, what were you chatting about?’ Sonny asked curiously, as they returned to the sofa.
‘Nothing much, health tips and that sort of thing.’ Kwan smiled, then lowered his voice. ‘Also about Dr Fung – his interests and hobbies, and so forth.’
‘Is he a suspect?’ asked Sonny anxiously.
‘Of course not, but I noticed his watch, the calluses on his left fingers, his shoes, and the pen in his shirt pocket, so I know he enjoys diving and playing guitar, and has a fondness for British products, plus he’s frugal. That was enough to start a conversation with the nurse.’
Sonny looked confused.
‘Ah, you still don’t understand,’ chuckled Kwan. ‘The lady has a romantic interest in the good doctor.’
‘Really?’
‘Sonny, you have to learn to pay more attention to the details of how people react. Every move and gesture speaks volumes, unintentionally. When she phoned for Dr Fung, and when she spoke to him in person, there was a significant difference in her expression.’
‘So it’s the nurse who’s a suspect.’
‘No, I was just passing the time.’ Kwan suppressed a laugh at Sonny’s wild ideas. ‘Not everything is connected to the case.’
Sonny scratched his head, puzzled by Kwan’s behaviour. They had a pile of difficult cases before them, and here he was merrily chatting about this and that. But maybe this ‘genius detective’ had never found himself in such a difficult situation.
‘Commander, I thought of something earlier on.’
‘About the acid case or Shek Boon-tim’s escape?’
Kwan’s question told Sonny that he had worked out the reason for his half-hour disappearance.
‘Um... the Shek Boon-tim case.’
‘Let’s hear it.’
Sonny had expected a scolding for losing focus, and was pleasantly surprised by his commander’s breezy reaction. He explained his doubts to Kwan, one by one.
‘The movements of the long-haired man make no sense at all,’ he finished.
‘That’s true, your questions are all very logical.’ Kwan smiled with satisfaction.
‘What do you think, Commander?’
‘Me? I’m here to investigate the acid attack. I’m setting aside Shek Boon-tim for now.’ Kwan spread his hands wide.
‘Huh? Commander?’
‘Let’s deal with one thing first, before we move on to the other. Haven’t you heard the English saying about a bird in your hand being better than two in the forest? Or the Japanese one, that if you chase after two rabbits you’ll probably catch neither? But feel free to use this time to think, and you may come up with a conclusion.’
Sonny remained baffled, but as his commander seemed to have made up his mind, it wasn’t his place to question.
‘It’s true, genius is hard to understand,’ he reflected.
In the next hour, Kwan didn’t subject Sonny to any further facts about chemical burns, nor did he attempt another conversation with the nurse. Instead, he sat quietly on the sofa, watching people go by. Sonny rested his chin in his hands and kept pondering the circumstances of Shek Boon-tim’s escape, but it was as if the commander had cursed him, and each time he thought about the long-haired man’s route, the image of Auntie Soso discussing the three victims popped up in his head. His thoughts were a hunting dog caught between chasing the fox in the forest to his left, or rooting out the wild boar in the grove to his right.
When the clock’s hour hand finally reached the 6, the corridor suddenly grew busy. Some people hurried by, their faces pinched with worry, whilst others strolled along unconcerned.
‘Should we go to the ward and wait for Chung’s wife and Moe there?’ asked Sonny.
‘Don’t worry, we can sit a little longer.’
Visitors filed past one by one. Five minutes later, Kwan stood abruptly and said, ‘We can go in now.’
Sonny obediently stood and followed his commander. Suddenly, he noticed Kwan was no longer holding the purple plastic bag, but when he looked back, it wasn’t on the sofa either. He started to call his chief back, not wanting him to lose his newly purchased cap, but then decided not to distract him from the job in hand.
The two officers walked into Ward 6, which contained four beds. Nearest the door on the left was an elderly man missing one leg, while the other bed was empty. On the right side were two patients with their heads swathed in bandages, mummy-like, and tubes poking into their arms. The one closer to the door also had bandages on his arms, and Sonny guessed that this must be slipper-selling Chau; sitting next to him was a young man of medium build, probably Moe, in a blue jacket and carrying a brown sling bag, speaking in a low voice into the patient’s ear. Next to the bed by the window were a woman in her thirties and a little boy in school uniform clutching the patient’s right hand – this must be the Chung family.
‘Is your name Moe?’ Kwan and Sonny had walked up to the man in the blue jacket, who looked suspiciously at them. Sonny remembered him from a moment ago – he was one of the anxious-looking visitors who’d scurried past them.
‘We’re from the police.’ Kwan flashed his ID. ‘You’re Mr Chau Cheung-kwong’s nephew Moe?’
‘Right, yes, I am.’ Seeing the badge seemed to pull Moe to attention. ‘Did you want to ask about what happened today? I’ve already told the other officer...’
‘No, that’s fine, I already know about that,’ smiled Kwan. ‘You look much thinner than in your picture. Can’t have been easy to lose all that weight in such a short time.’
Sonny, standing behind Moe, had no idea what nonsense Kwan was spouting.
‘Officer, what are you talking about?’ Moe looked equally confused.
‘You can stop pretending. We’ve got hard evidence.’ Kwan produced a clear plastic bag from inside his jacket, in which was a flattened black baseball cap. ‘Isn’t this what you wore, the third time you did it? You dropped your cap on the rooftop, and my identification team picked it up.’
‘That’s impossible—’ Moe’s face changed. He reached quickly for his shoulder bag.
‘Ah, so it’s in your bag?’
Before Kwan had finished speaking, Moe made a run for it, but Sonny was standing right there, and before Moe knew what was happening he’d been caught. Everyone else in the room watched in shock as Sonny wrestled Moe to the ground.
‘Commander, is Moe...?’ Keeping the suspect immobilized, Sonny patted him down for weapons and handcuffed him.
‘He carried out all three acid attacks: six months ago, four months ago, and this morning.’
‘How did you know it was him?’
‘Like I said, every move and gesture reveals volumes. Everyone has a unique way of walking. When I saw him go by in the corridor, I knew he was the fatty from the video footage of the Mong Kok attack. I’ve seen those clips more than a hundred times, and despite his weight loss I’d know that walk anywhere.’
Sonny gaped. Identifying a perp by his walk seemed a little arbitrary, even impossible. But Moe’s reaction proved Kwan correct.
‘What happened?’ The nurse from reception rushed into the room.
‘The Royal Hong Kong Police Force is arresting a suspect,’ answered Kwan calmly, showing his ID. The nurse stood petrified. ‘Please inform the hospital guards and ask them to assist.’
Still stunned, the nurse nodded vacantly, then rushed off.
‘All right, Sonny, we’ve solved one case, now we can transfer our attention to the other.’ Kwan turned to face the bed-bound patient. ‘So, finally we meet, Mr Chau Cheung-kwong... No, I should say, Mr Shek Boon-tim.’
6
SONNY FROZE, THINKING he must be hearing things. The man in the bed was Shek Boon-tim? Although he was still occupied keeping Moe pinned to the floor, all his attention was now on the man with the bandaged face, only his eyes, nostrils and mouth showing, like a movie monster.
‘Commander, you mean to say... this is Shek Boon-tim?’ stammered Sonny.
‘That’s right, this is the escaped convict Shek Boon-tim,’ said Kwan implacably. The patient made no response, but moved his eyes frantically from left to right.
Sonny pulled Moe upright and shoved him into the chair by the bed, then looked more closely at the man who might be Chau or Shek. The man opened his mouth a little, as if he wished to speak, but nothing came out.
‘Are you going to claim I’m wrong?’ asked Kwan. ‘Mr Shek, if we wanted to confirm your identity, the police have many methods, such as testing your DNA or matching your dental records, all acceptable in a court of law. But I’m very much afraid you won’t have your day in court. In fact, if I hadn’t exposed your plan, you might not have survived until tomorrow.’
The man stared directly at Kwan, a film of doubt now in his eyes.
‘Your scheme was ingenious, but you lack specialized medical knowledge, which is how you’ve created a life-threatening situation. I do mean “life-threatening”, by the way – you might actually die,’ said Kwan nonchalantly. ‘Do you know what the point of triage is, when you first arrive at ER? Apart from deciding how urgently the patient needs to be seen, it’s important to note if he has any drug allergies, and what treatment has already been administered. Skipping this step is more serious than you imagine. This morning in prison, you pretended to have a bad stomach ache and the doctor gave you a painkiller, yes? That was intravenous aspirin. And flowing into your veins now is an anti-inflammatory called ketoprofen. If the doctor had known you’d already had an aspirin injection, he’d never have used ketoprofen, which relies on the liver for metabolizing, whereas aspirin halts the liver’s metabolic function. Your liver and kidneys will now have ketoprofen damage, and if not treated within twelve hours, will fail altogether. By the time the patient experiences abdominal discomfort, the liver has already lost eighty per cent of its function. If you don’t get a transplant it’s too late.’
Even before Kwan had finished, the man in bed sat up abruptly, clawing at the tube in his arm. Because both his hands were bandaged, he had to snatch awkwardly a few times before he managed to get it out. Sonny noticed his eyes were no longer hesitant but full of fear and hatred, and rage directed at the two officers. There was now something altogether different about this man. His expression reminded Sonny of a wounded wild beast, showing cunning and anger even in the moment of its defeat. No one in the ward made a sound. It was as if they’d all been flung into an alternative reality.
Hurried steps broke the silence. Two uniformed guards followed the nurse in.
‘Superintendent Kwan Chun-dok, CIB.’ Again the ID badge was flashed. ‘And this is Sergeant Lok.’ Seeing that they were outranked, the two uniforms hastily stood at attention before asking for details.
‘This fellow is a suspect in this morning’s Central acid-attack case,’ said Kwan, indicating Moe. Then, pointing at the bed, ‘And this is the wanted criminal Shek Boon-tim. Place them in the holding ward upstairs for now. I’ll inform colleagues in the relevant departments to come get them.’
The uniformed officers stared dumbly. Sonny shoved Moe in front of one of them, at which they finally responded, the other briskly cuffing both of Shek’s hands to the bed before turning to summon help. Attendants arrived three minutes later and shifted him onto a stretcher. One of them noticed his drip tube had come out, and was about to reattach it when Shek batted her away.
‘No... don’t...’ he gasped feebly.
Kwan walked to the bedside, pressed down on Shek’s handcuffed right hand and nodded at the nurse, indicating she should proceed. ‘Mr Shek, I was lying to you earlier. You’re not about to die at all. That’s just a hydration tube. You had your ketoprofen injection ages ago – aspirin and ketoprofen are both non- steroidal anti-inflammatory drugs, and mixing them doesn’t cause liver damage. At the very worst, they might give you a mild gastric ulcer. It’s true that a blood test or dental record check could have confirmed your identity, but I wanted you to confess so I could be satisfied.’
Shek’s eyes bulged, glaring at Kwan with shock and loathing. But before he could take a second look, the hospital staff had already pushed him out of the ward.
After quickly wishing Chung and his family well – they were still trying to work out what had just happened – Kwan and Sonny went up to the eighth-floor ward. The director there was astonished that Shek Boon-tim had been recaptured. He’d never expected this escaped convict to be hiding out in the hospital itself, in the building next to the detention ward.
Sonny expected his commanding officer to call Inspector Wang immediately, not to mention notifying Organized Crime and Intelligence to stop their search for Shek Boon-tim, but Kwan instead dragged his protégé to the room where Moe was being held.
‘While the two of them are separated, there’s just one thing left to do,’ said Kwan.
Moe was sitting dejectedly in a chair, hands secured behind his back, watched over by one of the hospital guards. When Kwan and Sonny entered, he glanced briefly at them, then lowered his head and resumed staring at the floorboards.
‘I want the address of your hideout,’ said Kwan, in the tone of a command.
Moe didn’t respond.
‘Don’t get me wrong, I’m not ask
ing you to confess.’ Kwan’s voice was dry. ‘But I do need you to be clear what your situation is. Your boss Shek Boon-tim is definitely going back to prison, Little Willy and the two gunmen from the mainland are dead, and most of your other gang members are done for. You’re lucky: the acid cases are serious, but no one has died. Li Fun is the most badly wounded, and the doctor says he’ll probably survive. You’ll be inside for more than a decade, but I imagine you’ll be out even before Shek. If your colleagues kill that poor bastard, though, you’ll be charged with conspiracy to murder. You’re not yet thirty, are you? Ten-odd years living at the taxpayer’s expense, and you’ll still only be in your forties when you get out. If you live till eighty, that’s four more decades of freedom. But if you get a life sentence, your next fifty years will be in a cell no bigger than this room, eking out day after day, waiting for death.’
At least there was some reaction to this – still no words, but Moe looked up at Kwan with a conflicted expression.
‘The dog team are camped out in Chai Wan, and we’ll find your lair sooner or later. What I’m hoping won’t happen is that we find a corpse there, and while the real killers have got away scot-free, the blame falls squarely on your head.’
‘I...’ Moe seemed unable to make himself speak.
‘I know how important honour is in your line, but I’m not asking you to betray anyone, only to spare an innocent life. You shouldn’t have to take responsibility for a crime you didn’t commit, especially something as big as murder. Besides, you’ve been living with that poor devil for quite some time now; you don’t want to see him get killed over nothing, do you?’
‘Gloria Centre on Fung Yip Street in Chai Wan. Room 412,’ Moe spat out, then sullenly lowered his head again.
Kwan nodded, and left the room with Sonny. First, he phoned Alex Choi to let him know Shek had been captured, and the whereabouts of his hideout. Next, he called Inspector Wang to report that the acid attacker had been arrested.
