The Borrowed

by Chan Ho-Kei

  ‘Liz, have you really been with Alfred all day?’ asked Graham.

  ‘Of course. I met him at eleven thirty, took him for some wonton noodles, and then we went to the meeting point. The other children and parents were there. We took the bus to Sai Kung. The children drew pictures, and I chatted with the parents and other nannies. It was nice to be in the countryside, breathing fresh air.’

  ‘Really?’ asked Stella, still hugging Alfred, who said nothing, taking all this in.

  ‘You can ask Alfred, or call the art teacher, if you don’t believe me,’ said Liz. ‘What on earth happened?’

  ‘Someone said they’d kidnapped Alfred, and demanded a hundred thousand dollars from Mr Hill,’ Kwan explained.

  ‘Oh no!’ Liz’s mouth fell open, and she turned to Graham. ‘Mr Hill, did you pay? No, I remember Mrs Hill saying you don’t have that much in the bank...’

  Mac’s face changed, and he ran over to the dining table to look in the envelope. He’d suddenly thought there might have been some kind of switch, but when he tipped it out onto the table, every gold bar was present and correct, and so was the jewellery. He picked up an ingot and tapped it on the table. It seemed genuine.

  ‘Heavens! So much gold!’ exclaimed Liz. ‘So you’re serious?’

  ‘Did you think we were joking?’ sneered Old Tsui.

  ‘So that was no kidnapper – just a fraud,’ murmured Graham.

  ‘But how did he guess Mrs Hill would forget about her son’s drawing class?’ said Old Tsui.

  ‘Miss Leung,’ said Kwan, turning to Liz, ‘do you know if there are any other kids at Alfred’s school who have the same colour hair as him?’

  At this unexpected question the group stared dubiously at Kwan.

  ‘I think... there might be three or four,’ Liz replied.

  ‘Old Tsui, call the school and get their names from the principal.’

  ‘Headman, do you mean...?’

  ‘The kidnapper might have got the wrong person.’

  Graham stared, confused. He was naturally delighted to have his son back, but hearing Kwan’s words, he began to worry again. If this was a kidnapping case, then his own child had been spared only through a string of coincidences. And at that moment, another innocent child was going through a torture meant for Alfred.

  ‘Going by Mr Hill’s many conversations with the kidnapper, if this was a case of mistaken identity, we’d need to find someone fitting this description: the child would have to have red hair like Alfred; his father may work in the same place as Mr Hill, though it’s also possible that the child gave the wrong answer in his fear, or that the criminal got mixed up between ICAC and some company name like ICA or ICC; thirdly, there’d need to be someone called Liz or Elizabeth in their household.’

  Kwan’s words made Graham think back to the phone calls. When he’d heard the child calling for Liz, he’d immediately assumed it was Alfred. But actually, from just those few words, he couldn’t be certain that had been his own son’s voice.

  ‘Mr Hill, we’ll have to trouble the four of you to come down to the station to assist with our inquiries,’ said Kwan. ‘If all of this is true, then you’re the key figures in this case, and we’ll need each of you to provide a detailed statement. We’ll need to know more about your circumstances, and see if you’ve come into contact with any suspicious individuals.’

  ‘But if they grabbed the wrong child, we might get another phone call here?’ Mac protested.

  ‘The exchange of gold bars, using the swimming pool to destroy our transmitter, leaving the school uniform outside the building – this is a criminal who’s thought of everything. He surely has an associate watching this place.’ Kwan shook his head. ‘With the nanny and Alfred returning home in plain sight, they’ll know something’s gone wrong, and won’t be phoning again. We’ll have the latest news at the station, and it’ll be easier to dispatch people from there. Don’t forget, a child’s life may still be at stake.’

  ‘Stella, let’s go down there,’ said Graham. ‘If another child is suffering in Alfred’s place, we have to do our best to rescue him.’

  His wife nodded. After today, they’d both realized that debt was no big deal – money can be paid off some day, but a broken family can never be mended, and you can’t embrace a missing child.

  ‘Must I go too?’ asked Liz.

  ‘Naturally. For all we know, the criminal might have shown up around the drawing class. You might have seen him.’ Kwan glanced at Liz, then turned back to Graham. ‘Mr Hill, you should make sure the gold bars and jewellery are put away safely. After everything you’ve been through today, why don’t you leave it till Monday to turn the gold back into cash and put that back in the bank?’

  Graham did as he was told, scooping up the gold bars and heading to the study. Kwan followed him.

  ‘I wouldn’t have minded losing all of these, if it got Alfred back,’ said Graham, turning the dial on his safe.

  ‘We have a saying in Hong Kong – “Money is just a thing outside your body.” Hongkongers might be materialistic, but on this point, we’re pretty certain what’s really important.’

  ‘You’re right.’ Entering the last digit of the combination, Graham inserted the key and opened the safe. He placed the gold inside, and was about to return the jewellery to the purple case, but thinking about it, chucked the cloth bag into the safe too. Money is just a thing outside the body.

  Graham closed the safe and went back into the living room with Kwan. The Hills changed their clothes while Kwan stood out on the balcony – Mac guessed that as there was no longer any need to worry about being seen, his commander wanted to survey the surroundings, to see if he could spot any clues.

  The Hill household, including Liz, followed Kwan out of the apartment. He’d arranged for a car to meet them. Graham and Stella would only want to hold Alfred tight at this moment, and given earlier events, it would be asking too much to have Graham drive right now.

  The two cars headed for Kowloon Police Headquarters in Mong Kok. Kwan instructed his subordinates to take statements from the Hills and from Liz, going into every detail, including all their friends and acquaintances, and any strange events near Nairn House.

  ‘Headman, where are you going?’ asked Old Tsui, seeing Kwan had put his coat back on and was heading for the exit.

  ‘I have to run some errands. You take charge for now.’

  ‘Old Tsui, do you think Headman’s a bit odd today?’ asked Mac, when Kwan had left.

  ‘Is he? Maybe he didn’t get a good night’s sleep.’ Old Tsui shrugged.

  Kwan headed for the parking lot, took out Mac’s car keys – strictly speaking, they were the CID’s keys – and drove away quickly. He only had a short time to make use of this opportunity. Turning off the car’s radio comms, he stepped on the pedal and was soon at his destination.

  Nairn House on Princess Margaret Road.

  Instead of driving in, he parked near the building.

  ‘Ah, mister, it’s you again,’ said the security guard.

  ‘Superintendent Campbell has a whole lot of jobs for me today – no help for it,’ said Kwan casually, once again using William Campbell on the eighth floor as his excuse.

  He took the elevator up to the eighth floor, then walked down two flights of stairs.

  ‘I’d really rather not be doing this sort of thing.’ He pushed open the stairwell window and looked out, then hauled himself up to the window sill. Looking to his right, he could see the Hills’ balcony, a couple of metres away.

  Making sure no one below was paying attention, Kwan reached out to grab a protruding corner of the outside wall, then stepped out onto the shallow ledge just below the window. His right hand still gripped the window frame, but he was now on the outside of the building.

  Should have brought a rope, he thought. Still, no time to waste. He let go of the frame and moved his right hand to the protrusion, then moved his left hand to grab the balcony railing. He had a strong grip, so even tho
ugh this looked absurdly precarious, he felt quite secure.

  With his left hand on the railing, he gave a sharp tug so his whole body lurched over. A second later he was tumbling onto the balcony.

  After making sure no one was inside, he pressed down on the balcony door handle, which opened easily, letting him into the living room. While leaving the apartment earlier, he’d pretended to lock that door, but hadn’t actually pushed the bolt all the way in. Knowing he didn’t have much time, he pulled out his torch and went into the study, opening the wooden cabinet to reveal the blue-grey safe.

  This was government housing, so even the furniture was provided by the state, hence this model of safe was not unfamiliar to him. It was British-made with a double lock, one opened by a combination and one by a key. The combination could be changed by the owner at any time – with the door open, you only had to depress the metal bar and enter the new code. Cautious individuals changed the combination at regular intervals.

  ‘82 left, 35 right, 61 left...’ Pulling a glove on, Kwan turned the dial. Graham had opened the safe in front of him twice, so he was certain of the combination.

  With a click, the first lock opened.

  As for the second one, he had to rely on luck. From his pocket he pulled a little piece of metal and a pair of pliers. The metal plate was flat and had little jags on both sides, like a key.

  It was indeed a copy of Graham Hill’s safe key.

  While Graham had been frantically searching for a coin at the bottom of the swimming pool, Kwan Chun-dok had executed his plan.

  He’d waited for the pool attendant to need the bathroom, then slipped behind the counter. Having watched Graham change, he knew which was his basket. Identifying the safe key on Graham’s key ring, he pulled out from his own pocket a container the size of a matchbox that opened like a book. Inside were two pieces of green clay. Sprinkling talc from a little bottle over the clay, he brushed off the excess powder, put the key between the clay pieces, shut the box and pressed down hard. When he opened it again and removed the key, it had left behind a perfect impression. He wiped the key clean, replaced it and swiftly left.

  After accompanying the Hills to the station, he’d found an excuse to return to his own office. There he’d pulled from his drawer a lighter, a metal spoon and a small quantity of alloy with a low melting point. Together with the clay, they were a kit for copying keys – he’d stumbled upon them many years ago in a shop that sold little playthings like these. Placing the alloy in the spoon over a flame, he melted it – it was probably mainly lead, he guessed – then poured it carefully into the mould.

  After a short while, he opened the box again, and there was what looked like half a silver-grey key, nestling inside.

  Would this work? He’d only know when he tried it – it was a crude copy. Besides, low-melting-point alloys are brittle, and it could easily snap off in the lock. It would be annoying if that happened.

  Still, he had to take the risk.

  It had been a while since he made the copy, so the metal should have had time to harden. He placed it between the pliers, slowly inserted it, made sure it was correctly positioned, then very slowly turned it...

  Click.

  The second lock opened.

  Kwan let go of the pliers, then held his breath as he shone the torch into the safe. The gold bars glittered back at him, but he ignored them. They weren’t his target.

  He was after documents. The informants’ testimonies from the Yau Ma Tei Fruit Market drug case.

  The accounts that recorded payments to corrupt police officers.

  These papers were the ICAC’s most potent weapon against the police. If they were to fall into the hands of anyone in the force, the whole operation could break apart. Many officers were anxious about these documents, terrified that their sins would be exposed.

  And at this moment, looking through these incriminating papers, was Inspector Kwan Chun-dok of Kowloon Regional CID. The accounts were in code, but Kwan was familiar with underworld slang, and with a bit of imagination, he worked out roughly which departments were on the list, and even which individuals. He paid particular attention to the officers from the Kowloon region.

  ‘Hmm, this fellow owes me a big favour now.’

  He slipped the folder into his pocket and shut the safe, turning the copied key with the pliers – making sure he didn’t leave any metal fragments behind – then closed the cabinet door. His task was done, and now he just needed to get out.

  Kwan left the apartment the same way he got in, with that risky climb over the balcony. He was sure-footed enough not to feel a moment’s panic. In a few seconds he was back in the stairwell, and then saying goodbye to the security guard, then in his car returning to the station. He’d been away less than an hour.

  ‘Headman!’ Mac approached as soon as he entered the office. ‘I’ve checked with the school – no missing children at all.’

  ‘None?’ Kwan put on a surprised face.

  ‘Not one. There are five students with red hair, and they’re all safely at home. Besides, we haven’t received a single appeal for help or missing person report. To be sure, I asked the principal to get each form teacher to call every child in their class. The only one they couldn’t get hold of was Alfred.’

  ‘Because he’s here.’

  ‘Yes. Which means the entire school is safe and well.’

  ‘So our perp wasn’t a kidnapper, just a fraudster.’

  ‘Mm, but it’s hard to believe a con man would go this far. He almost tricked Mr Hill out of his entire savings.’

  ‘How are the Hills?’

  ‘They’re relieved that no other child’s in danger. They’ve gone to grab a bite in the canteen.’

  ‘No one’s with them?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Wow, you let the ICAC man sit in the police canteen, calmly eating away? Aren’t you afraid our colleagues will recognize him, get carried away and beat him up?’

  ‘Argh!’ Mac cried out in alarm and dashed down the corridor to the canteen. Kwan smiled to himself – he’d only been joking. Graham Hill on his own might have attracted some trouble, but he had his wife and son with him, and at most he’d get a few dirty looks.

  Kwan went over to the canteen himself to have a few words with Graham. After saying goodbye to the family, he returned to his office and locked the door. Taking out the stolen ICAC documents, he read every page carefully.

  Just think how many favours I could trade this for, he thought.

  6

  ON MONDAY AT noon, Kwan Chun-dok made an excuse and left the station alone. He took a bus to the south of Hong Kong Island, getting off at Repulse Bay.

  There weren’t many people on the beach, but Kwan wasn’t here for fun. He had someone to meet. There were too many eyes and ears in the city, and even though excuses could be made, he and the other party would still be in trouble if they were spotted together.

  Walking along the coast road, he came to a car. Going up close, he made sure he had the right person, before heading round to the other side. Without knocking, he opened the door and settled himself into the passenger seat.

  ‘Kwan, why’d you want to meet? And in such a godforsaken place?’

  Without saying a word, Kwan pulled an envelope from his coat pocket and gave it to the other person, who opened it, blanched, and flipped through the whole stack of records – the coded list of names of every corrupt officer.

  ‘Aren’t you going to thank me? You almost got into a lot of trouble,’ laughed Kwan.

  ‘You... You... Where’d you get these?’

  ‘Where else? From your home.’

  Graham Hill returned Kwan’s gaze, stunned.

  ‘My home!’ he yelled. ‘When did you...’

  ‘Last Friday, while you were all at the station giving your statements. I guess you haven’t looked in the safe since then?’

  Graham paused. ‘That’s right. Stella and I spent the whole weekend with Alfred. She was actually schedul
ed to do a shift, and I had some overtime to get through, but we both took the time off. Yesterday and the day before, we took him to a film and an amusement park. Today I’d only just got to the ICAC when you called and said I absolutely had to meet you out here in the middle of nowhere.’

  ‘Anyway, you have your documents back, and Alfred is fine, so all’s well.’

  ‘I have absolutely no idea what’s happening! My God, Kwan. Why on earth did you break into my home to get these papers? Don’t you know how serious that is? If anyone found out, we’d both be in deep trouble.’

  ‘You really don’t know, do you?’ Kwan smiled grimly. ‘Let me ask you, do you think Alfred’s kidnapping was the work of a conman?’

  ‘You mean it wasn’t?’

  ‘Of course not. A grifter that good could get a million dollars if he wanted, never mind a hundred thousand. Of course, even if he was just after a hundred grand, he still wouldn’t have come to you. You’re pretty much a pauper.’

  ‘I don’t understand.’

  ‘This case, this kidnapping or con or whatever you want to call it – the whole thing was a sham. All misdirection, aimed at you.’

  ‘Misdirection? Then what was the real target?’

  Kwan reached out and tapped the papers in Graham’s hand.

  ‘These documents?’

  ‘Exactly. To the criminals, these were the most valuable objects in your home, not your pathetic savings or those damn diamonds.’

  ‘You mean... the criminal was a police officer?’ Graham yelped.

  ‘Yes. And not just one, I’m afraid, but a whole group of them.’

  ‘But what’s the use of stealing this? It’s just a copy! The one that’s going to be used as evidence, the one with legal standing, that’s still in my office. Taking the copy won’t affect their case at all!’

  ‘You really are a dimwit. They don’t want the evidence, they’re after information.’

  ‘Information?’

  ‘You’ve been at the ICAC three years now, don’t you know the principles of bribery? Criminals will pay the police what they ask for, but they’ll also say: the more people we bribe, the safer it is for the crooked cops. Police corruption might be rampant, but it’s not centralized – there’s no one person running the show. Most of the time, it’s little squads keeping their ears open, hearing of where open-handed criminals can be found, and going in to get their share. Of course, criminals are willing to pay “squeeze” to more people, but they don’t allow double-dipping, so the police themselves won’t know which of their colleagues are getting paid off – but the drug pushers have comprehensive records.’