The Borrowed

by Chan Ho-Kei

  The bag was long and narrow, more like a belt, with a buckle and clasp at either end and a long zip down the middle. It looked as if it had been specially commissioned by a smuggler, rather than something you could buy in a shop.

  A footstep behind him arrested his movements. He turned around hurriedly to see Kwan Chun-dok, who now sat next to him, not acknowledging him in any way, pretending to change – he didn’t have any swimming trunks with him.

  Graham continued transferring the gold bars and then the jewellery. Just as he was about to pull the zip shut, he remembered the little black box and couldn’t help crying out so sharply that even Kwan was forced to turn and look at him.

  So that was the purpose of his dip – the gold and jewellery would be fine, but if he put the transmitter in the canvas bag it would probably be ruined by the water.

  Should he take the risk and put the transmitter in? Or hide it somewhere by the poolside, and try to find a way to slip it in later? But what if the kidnapper found it?

  His brain filled with questions.

  He’d taken the black box from his pocket as he removed his trousers, and now held it in his palm, flashing it at Kwan as a question. Kwan stretched lazily, shaking his head.

  True, if the transmitter stopped working, then it became a straightforward liability – its discovery could only harm Alfred.

  Graham tossed it into his basket next to his watch and keys, tugged the zip on the canvas bag shut, and went to the counter to hand over his possessions. In exchange, he got a tag on a string that he could wear around his wrist.

  ‘You can’t take that belt in, sir,’ said the attendant. He spoke first in Cantonese, and when he realized he wasn’t being understood, repeated himself in English.

  ‘No, I have to.’

  ‘No personal items. Please leave it here, we’ll take care of it.’ His face was grumpy.

  Losing his temper, Graham pulled open the zip to reveal the glittering gold bars. ‘If these go missing, will you take responsibility?’

  The attendant’s eyes popped wide open and his chin practically hit the floor. He just about managed to mutter, ‘Please... please go ahead.’ Graham guessed he’d probably never seen so much gold in one place. But then, half an hour ago, neither had he.

  As he left the changing room, Graham glanced at Kwan Chun-dok, who gestured briefly to indicate he should go on in. Graham understood – the longer he delayed, the more danger Alfred was in.

  Clipping on the belt, Graham walked past the training pool to the deeper main pool. There were about twenty people swimming. He swam past them to the very centre, where he trod water and scrutinized the bottom of the pool.

  There was nothing there.

  Desperate, he looked again, even diving so his face was almost touching the bottom. It remained stubbornly empty.

  Graham broke the surface and took a deep breath, then went down again. Perhaps he wasn’t quite in the centre, or the coin had been shifted by the water. He searched a wider area. Still nothing.

  How was this possible? Now and then he bumped into other swimmers, spitting out quick apologies as he continued his hunt.

  ‘A special coin – could it be transparent?’ he wondered. Running his hand along the pool bottom, he felt nothing, just smooth tiles.

  Could the kidnapper have mixed up the two pools? He got out at once and turned to the training pool. Kwan, now in swimming trunks, stood by the poolside, but Graham made no attempt to speak to him. He’d already wasted ten minutes and was no closer to finding that damned coin.

  It was the same story in the training pool – nothing at all resembling a coin. There were more people in here. As he kept diving, some young girls thought he was up to something suspicious and quickly got out of his way.

  ‘God, could someone else have picked it up?’ The horrifying possibility occurred to him. A cardboard box by a flower trough was fairly unremarkable, but a coin at the bottom of a pool could be picked up by a curious stranger.

  He returned to the main pool and asked a few swimmers, but no one had seen a coin. Some just ignored him and went on with their lengths. He tried the lifeguards too, with no more success.

  Graham began to feel dizzy. The belt hung heavily around his waist, and no one appeared to snatch the ransom. He thought of appealing to Kwan for help, but looking around, he found the inspector nowhere.

  Had Kwan seen someone suspicious? Was he tailing that person? Could the kidnapper not have managed to put the coin in place? Graham thought of various possibilities, but there was nothing he could do. His only option was to keep searching for a coin that might or might not exist.

  He glanced at the clock by the pool. It was 4.45 – he’d been searching for half an hour. There were more people in the pool now, probably schoolchildren. Once again, he dived through the throng and made for the centre, and this time he spotted it.

  A gleaming, silvery coin.

  He didn’t know how he could have missed it earlier. It was as if someone had cast a spell to keep him from seeing it. Picking it up, he saw it was a British 25-pence coin, issued by the Royal Mint that February to commemorate the Queen’s silver jubilee. A hole had been drilled in it, through which had been threaded a string attached to a metal tag.

  When you’ve found it, you’ll understand the next step – and sure enough, he did.

  Without hesitation, Graham leaped from the pool and charged back into the changing room. There was a long line at the counter. He charged up to the front and pushed in. There was some grumbling, but no one dared to stop him. He frantically flung the coin and tag onto the counter, scaring the attendant into taking a step back. The man quickly glanced at the number and rushed to fetch the wire basket. He seemed to find its contents odd, but didn’t say anything.

  This basket contained only a pair of flip-flops and a piece of paper folded in four. Graham grabbed both and unfolded the note.

  ‘Within thirty seconds, walk out of the main entrance to the road and head north. Hold the bag with the gold bars in your left hand. Don’t forget, you only have thirty seconds. My associate is watching you now.’

  Graham cast a panicky look around the changing room. Everyone was now staring at him. Not caring about anything else, he slipped on the flip-flops and dashed out, still drenched from the pool.

  ‘Out of my way!’ he yelled as he sprinted down the passageway, barrelling through the one-way door to the outside. He ran to the roadside, remembering that Smithfield went uphill to the south, and so turning downhill. He pulled the dripping canvas bag from around his waist and held it up with his left hand, confused as to what this would achieve.

  Within seconds, he knew.

  A motorcycle zoomed up. The rider, all in black with a black helmet, grabbed the bag and sped off into the distance. It took Graham a second to realize what had happened, and then he ran after the motorbike, shouting, ‘Where’s my son? Bring my son back!’

  Everyone turned to look at him. What happened next was completely unexpected – including to the kidnapper.

  Three seconds after the rider snatched the bag, something small and dark fell from the motorcycle.

  Graham didn’t know what that was at first, but as they kept coming, he saw.

  Gold bars, glistening and bright, each weighing five taels.

  That first dark object must have been the bag with the jewellery in it. The rider saw what was happening and slowed down, but a car roared past Graham and the black-clad rider sped off again, with the car in pursuit. A trail of gold bars remained behind, like a dotted line marking this strange occurrence.

  Graham remembered – he’d pulled the zip open to show the attendant the gold.

  He probably hadn’t closed it fully afterwards.

  While he was diving so many times into the water, the little ingots would have collided repeatedly, forcing the zip to open wider.

  Neither he nor the criminal could have expected that the opening would be facing downwards during their exchange, nor that the force
with which the bag was snatched would cause it to give way altogether.

  5

  IN THE CAR pursuing the motorcycle were members of Hong Kong Island CID. After being alerted to the Hill kidnapping, they’d followed orders to prepare for action at the scene and were awaiting further instructions. When a man clad only in swimming trunks, dripping wet, burst out and began acting oddly, the investigators paid attention. They didn’t know what Graham Hill looked like, but it seemed likely this was the hostage’s father. A moment later, a motorcyclist swooped in, grabbing an item from the man in trunks, and the CID officers understood at once they were witnessing the moment of exchange. If they could nab this rider, they’d gain valuable information, and so they dived in on their own initiative, chasing after the bike, not caring if this exposed police involvement.

  But they didn’t catch him.

  Motorcycles are nimble – the criminal only had to turn into Belcher’s Street and slip into the gaps between cars to vanish into the distance. The police car wasn’t far behind, and found the abandoned vehicle on Sands Street, but the culprit was long gone, leaving behind his black jacket, his helmet and the canvas bag. The officers asked passers-by if they’d seen the suspect, but their answers were inconclusive. An off-duty policeman said he’d seen a man dashing into a taxi, but he hadn’t taken note of the licence number, and anyway that might not have been the suspect. A quick check showed that the motorcycle had been reported stolen.

  When Graham saw the gold bars fall and the kidnapper get away, his mind went completely blank. He didn’t run forward to retrieve his property, just stood stock still, staring at the disappearing motorcycle as if it were his son vanishing into the distance.

  ‘Quick, pick up the gold bars, get changed and go home. The kidnapper might phone again. I’ll assist the officers in the pursuit,’ said a soft voice.

  Graham turned to see Kwan Chun-dok standing beside him, already back in his clothes. Having given his instructions, Kwan walked briskly to a car on the opposite side of the road. Graham helplessly picked up the valuables. It was only then that the surrounding crowd realized what they’d seen, which added to their astonishment.

  Clutching the gold, Graham persuaded the flabbergasted counter clerk to let him back in and then retrieved his possessions from the oblivious attendant. The black box was where he’d left it, next to his watch and keys. Glaring at this useless bit of machinery, Graham flung the gold and jewellery onto a bench and punched the wall. Not caring that he was still sopping wet, he pulled on his clothes, shoved the gold back into the envelope in the plastic bag, and departed amidst bemused looks from the bystanders.

  Back in his car, he listlessly started the engine and drove back to Nairn House. None of this felt real. His son being kidnapped was already something he’d never expected in this lifetime, but his misadventures in the last hour and the failure of the ransom payment made him feel he’d wandered into a dream. All the way home, he thought about Alfred – how he’d looked as a baby, his smile the first time he said ‘Daddy’, how he’d cried on his first day of school, holding hands crossing the road. When they’d said goodbye that morning, he hadn’t realized those might be the last words they’d ever exchange.

  Are you having trouble with your homework? Do you have good friends at school? What are you learning in art class? Do you want Mummy and Daddy to take you to the funfair? – how he regretted not saying these things to Alfred. He and Stella had handed over responsibility for raising their son to the nanny while they buried themselves in work, so Liz had asked all these questions for them. Alfred had probably wished to hear them from his parents, but had been afraid to ask. Before they left England, each time Alfred asked him or Stella for something, they’d only reply, ‘We can’t afford it right now. Mummy and Daddy have to work hard to pay our debts. Let’s see after we’ve done that.’

  But the debt had been cleared a year ago. Why hadn’t he paid more attention to his son after that?

  Graham was so agitated he almost drove his car into a streetlight to punish himself.

  At ten past five, he rushed into the apartment. Stella leaped up from the sofa when she saw her husband, but when she saw he was alone, the hope in her eyes flickered into despair.

  ‘Alfred...’

  Graham shook his head. ‘The exchange failed.’

  ‘How? What happened?’ Stella broke down, grabbing her husband’s shoulders. Ronald Ngai, who’d been sitting to one side, rushed over to see if he could help.

  ‘The kidnapper got the ransom, but it fell from his motorcycle...’ Graham couldn’t meet his wife’s eyes.

  ‘Oh God, what will happen to Alfred?’ Stella’s legs weakened under her and she tumbled to the floor. Graham and Ngai quickly lifted her up and laid her on the sofa.

  The three of them waited helplessly. Ngai didn’t have much time for the ICAC man, but at this moment, even he thought the couple before him were truly pitiful. Stella sobbed as if she’d watched her child die in front of her. Indeed, from Graham’s account, it would seem the boy’s chances weren’t good.

  Fifteen minutes later, the doorbell rang. Kwan, Old Tsui and Mac came in. From their stricken faces, it was immediately obvious that the investigation had run into difficulties.

  ‘We didn’t catch the motorbike rider,’ said Kwan. ‘CID found the bike, and the Identification Bureau have gathered what evidence they could from it. Hopefully that’ll provide a lead.’

  And with that, the Hills’ last hope snuffed out.

  ‘Those Island CID officers were too rash. If they’d followed unobtrusively, we might be in a better position. But let’s not worry who’s to blame right now. We’ll deal with the situation as it stands.’ Kwan’s voice remained level. ‘The kidnapper might know you called the police, Mr Hill, but he might only suspect it. I’ve notified the media to describe what happened at the pool as a snatch theft. Plain-clothes officers happened to see a motorcycle- riding thief grab a foreigner’s bag, and set off in pursuit, but the criminal got away, while the victim left the scene on his own. This will be on the six o’clock TV and radio news. They’ll add that police are seeking the Westerner who was robbed – hopefully that’ll convince the kidnapper this was just a coincidence.’

  Graham nodded. His mind had switched off.

  ‘If that works, the kidnapper will phone again. We just have to keep waiting.’

  Kwan took Graham through every detail of what had happened that afternoon, and Graham answered as best he could, though with each sentence he couldn’t help wondering what on earth he could have done differently to avoid this disaster.

  ‘The pool attendant might be able to identify the kidnapper,’ said Mac. ‘Surely depositing only a pair of flip-flops and a sheet of paper would attract attention?’

  ‘Some people have too much stuff for one basket, so they grab a second one,’ Old Tsui butted in. ‘As long as he did that, the attendant probably wouldn’t have taken any notice.’

  Several hours seemed to go by as they waited for the phone call. The atmosphere was heavy, a sense of disappointment hanging in the air. When it was time for the news, Graham turned on the TV, while Ngai and Old Tsui put on the radio, and they listened intently.

  The living-room clock coldly swung its arms as the minutes and seconds slipped away. The phone didn’t ring again. The envelope holding the gold bars and jewellery sat on the table. Graham wished these riches would just disappear, if that could bring his son back.

  Click.

  A sound from the front door seized everyone’s attention. The door swung open and Stella shrieked.

  A woman said, ‘Oh, do we have visitors today?’

  The officers recognized the woman from the photos in the living room. It was Liz, Leung Lai-ping, the nanny. But the person who made Stella scream and Graham stare was standing behind her.

  ‘Alfred!’ Stella half ran, half crawled to her son and grabbed him. Graham did the same, kneeling down to embrace both his wife and son.

  ‘What’s
going on?’ said Liz, looking startled.

  ‘I’m Inspector Kwan Chun-dok,’ said Kwan, flashing his ID. ‘How did you find Alfred?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Alfred, are you all right? Liz, did the kidnappers do anything to you?’ Graham looked up from holding his son, who seemed confused.

  ‘Kidnappers?’

  ‘You and Alfred were kidnapped!’ shouted Graham.

  ‘I don’t understand. Alfred and I have been together all day. Nothing’s happened.’

  Everyone stared at Liz.

  ‘You weren’t kidnapped?’ Mac cut in.

  ‘I met Alfred after school, took him for lunch, and then to his sketching class.’

  ‘Sketching?’ Graham repeated.

  ‘Yes, didn’t I tell Mrs Hill last week? The art class had a special outing.’

  ‘What’s this?’ gaped Stella.

  ‘You seemed quite tired when I told you. Maybe that’s why you don’t remember? But you signed the consent form – they were taking all the kids out to the countryside, so there was a letter for parents.’

  ‘When did I sign that? I don’t remember.’

  ‘It was last week. I gave it to you with some other school documents.’

  ‘But – but you should have known I might forget. Didn’t I tell you if there were any changes to the schedule, you should leave me a note on the day?’ Stella, in her confusion, was scolding Liz, when really her son was back and she no longer cared about anything else.

  ‘I did! I know how busy you are, so I made sure to leave you a note this morning.’

  As Liz spoke, she went over to the shelf where Graham’s commendation plaque stood, and felt around on it, then knelt down and pulled a slip of paper from behind a potted plant.

  ‘It fell down,’ she said, handing it to Stella. Everyone leaned forward, and sure enough, it said in English, ‘After school drawing class activity, afternoon I take Alfred for lunch outside, evening come back.’