“That was last year. This year it’s all about culture and heritage. We’re heading to Hong Kong.”
Chapter 7
At ten a.m. Inspector Lee arrived at the Ho Man Tin Government Offices at 88 Chung Hau Street in the Kowloon district. Inside the complex, housed within a small building was the government laboratory specializing in forensics. It was completely separate from the Hong Kong Police Headquarters located across the bay on Hong Kong Island. Lee had an appointment to meet with the senior chemist in charge, Dr. Jian Fang. He was a staple in the Medical Examiner’s Office, logging in twenty-five years and the best they had.
“Dr. Fang.” Lee approached him in a hallway and offered his right hand. “I haven’t seen you in a while.”
“You haven’t had a case worthy of my time,” Fang said with a chuckle.
“Fair enough. So what’s the news?”
“Let me show you.” Fang led Lee through swinging double doors and down another hall. He wore his usual attire: a white lab coat over a dress shirt and slacks. No tie. Fang had glasses set in an oversized tortoise frame with a thick lens that magnified his eyes, including the bags underneath. He kept his salt-and-pepper hair short and parted on the left side.
The buzz of the fluorescent light in the hall was constant aside from the occasional flicker. The beige walls peeled in many areas, revealing a number of coats underneath. The speckled white tiles on the floor were chipped and dingy. Lee figured they probably hadn’t been polished in years.
“You know it’ll take everything breaking down at once for our request for upgrades to be taken seriously. We’re lucky the front doors still lock.” Fang shook his head.
The two continued through another swinging door and eventually through a secured, single doorway and into an examination room. There were four metal autopsy tables lined up in a row. Bodies covered with light blue sheets occupied all but one.
“We were able to chip all of the concrete away from the skeleton. Took my assistant and me nearly all night. I slept in the office.”
“I appreciate your efforts,” Lee said, delivering a pat to the doctor’s bony shoulder.
Fang grabbed a pair of latex gloves off the black countertop that ran the length of the room. “It’s a male, as we suspected.”
He stopped in front of the third table that had skeletal remains spread out over it. Lee recognized the skull at the top of the table as the one he had seen earlier. The rest of the body was in pieces. The spine was broken in two. The ribcage was a pile of short and long bits. Part of the right arm, below the elbow, was splintered in a number of pieces. The left arm was fully intact. Both legs sustained breaks at the knee level. It looked like a rudimentary puzzle.
“Are the breaks caused from removing the body from the concrete or was this body dismembered?”
“Unfortunately, this was the result of our removal process. From what we can tell, the body, when it was imprisoned in the cement, was fully intact.”
“Are you able to give a time a death? The building was constructed fifteen years ago.”
“That’s enough time for body tissue to disappear, even entombed in cement. It prevented bacteria and insects from attacking the tissue for quite some time, though. I’m guessing it took about ten years for the tissue to decompose. The body could have been placed in that building when it was built or shortly after but not recently.”
“What happened to this area?” Lee pointed at the groin.
“Mummification. There are two reasons why this took place. When we were chipping away at the cement, we discovered small air pockets near the outer extremities of the body. It’s the reason why the arms, legs, and skull have no tissue remaining. A bacterium doesn’t need much room to travel. These pockets of air would have allowed that to happen.”
“And the other reason?”
“Adipocere, or what we call grave wax.”
Lee raised an eyebrow and tilted his head slightly to the side.
Fang smiled. “Fat causes grave wax. Your victim had a bit of a belly.”
“Or a big ass,” Lee said, prompting Fang to laugh.
“Yeah, that’s also a contender.
“Anything else you can tell me?”
“Well, clearly this wasn’t a work-related accident.”
“Yeah, I got that, but go ahead and tell me why.”
“Even though the skull had been found in a separate piece of concrete, that doesn’t mean the demolition efforts were the reason it broke off.” Fang removed a pen from the front pocket of his lab coat and pointed at the skull.
Lee noticed the large road map of veins on the back of the doctor’s hand. The skin was loose and dotted with sunspots. They matched the spots on Fang’s cheeks and neck. Lee wasn’t quite sure of Fang’s exact age, but he guessed the man was in his mid-sixties, maybe closer to seventy.
“We got lucky here. Take a look at where the head separated from the torso. You see how the vertebra here is flat? This suggests the victim was decapitated with a sharp instrument—an axe perhaps. If it had been snapped off, say from the hardening of the concrete or from the demolition, the surface area would be jagged.”
“Hmmm, an unwilling participant.”
Fang nodded. “I would agree with that. The victim was killed in another location, then the body was transported to the building. Hiding it inside a wall was a good plan until someone decided to knock the building down. You’re looking at the original developer or an early owner, given the timing of death.”
Lee nodded. “We need to identify this body if this case is to go anywhere.”
“Well, I have some good news,” Fang said as he removed his gloves and tossed them in a nearby trashcan. “It won’t be a problem to extract DNA from the mummified section. If you can give us a person to crosscheck it with, we can make a match and identify the body. In the meantime, I’ll run the DNA profile through our database. I’m not hopeful. Recordkeeping fifteen years ago wasn’t very complete.”
“That doesn’t surprise me.”
“Don’t forget about the teeth. A dental match is also possible, but again, we need someone to check it against. Provide me with a list, and we’ll start the process.”
Chapter 8
After meeting with Fang, Lee headed back to HKP Headquarters. As an inspector with the Criminal Intelligence Bureau (CIB), his duties focused primarily on coordinating and gathering intelligence and then determining which crime investigation unit would handle the case. In regard to the skeleton, Lee suspected from the beginning that the Organized Crime and Triad Bureau (OCTB) would handle the case. The talk with Fang only confirmed his initial suspicions about the body.
He knocked on the wooden frame of the doorway of Inspector Leslie Choi, the person in charge of the OCTB.
“Got a sec?” Lee mouthed, peering inside.
Leslie was on her cell phone, twirling her shoulder-length black hair with her fingers. She motioned for him to come inside while she continued her phone conversation. “Yes, I’m so excited to see you and the kids and Po Po too. It’s been way too long. Call me as soon as you land, okay?”
“Family visiting?” Lee asked as he sat in one of the two chairs positioned in front of Leslie’s gray metal desk. Her office wasn’t what one would expect for someone in charge of one of the largest and most heavily overworked departments. She had standard-issue office furniture, consisting of a desk, two chairs, filing cabinets, and a shelving unit. An Aeron chair was the only luxury she allowed herself, and she also chose a smaller, windowless office. It was known that she wanted to be near and working closely with the men and women in the OCTB—a sign that she was still one of them. Because of that attitude, she developed unwavering loyalty from the officers in her department and out of it. They would do anything she asked of them—no small feat considering she was a woman working in a male-dominated environment.
Leslie’s pink lips stretched wide across her face, showing off her pearly whites. “I would say so,” she said. “That person on the
phone was the one and only Abby Kane.”
“Kane? Man, I haven’t seen her since she left the force.”
Abby had been Leslie’s predecessor and was the first woman to ever run a department, and the OCTB no less. “She truly paved the way for women on the force and made it possible for me to take over. I have her to thank for hectic hours, seven days a week.” Leslie let out a laugh.
Lee joined in, his shoulders bouncing in the process. “Do you see her often?”
“No, I’m in the same boat as you. We talk but, you know, it’s not the same.”
“Yeah. So is she coming for business?”
“Nope. It’s all play. And I intend on helping her. She’s bringing her kids and her mother-in-law. I’m really looking forward to seeing them all.”
“Sounds like fun, but…” Lee allowed his words to trail.
“You’re about to rain on my damn parade, right?”
“You know I don’t want to.”
“Bring it on,” Leslie said, gesturing with both hands as she leaned back in her chair and crossed her legs. She wore a form-fitting black pantsuit, dangling hoop earrings, and light makeup.
Lee filled her in on the skeleton found in the building. She nodded occasionally and waited until he’d finished briefing her before commenting.
“I heard sound bites in the hallway about this and had a feeling it would fall on my desk,” she said.
“Dr. Fang’s early findings sealed the deal for me. A decapitated victim buried in a building. Violent crime falls under your department’s jurisdiction. It may or may not be related to organized crime.”
Over time, Leslie had become extremely knowledgeable on organized crime in China. The Triads, the Chinese equivalent of the Italian Mafioso, controlled Hong Kong. There were many factions, but the Wo Shing Wo were the biggest and most powerful.
“The Triads don’t normally go through the trouble of hiding a body like this,” Leslie said. “When they do, it’s normally for good reason: an unsanctioned kill, someone within the organization, or perhaps this body is a well-known public figure. Any chance of the building containing more bodies?”
“I’ve got a crew combing the building as we speak. Let’s hope this is the only one. Don’t need to feed the media.”
A frown fell over her face. “They’re already on this?”
“Yeah, they showed up that night. They’re already calling it the Missing Mummy case.”
“Great.” She let out a breath. “Do your best to keep a lid on it. This is exactly the sort of sensational crap they love to exploit.”
Lee nodded.
“What else can you tell me about the body?”
“Dr. Fang has all the means to identify the body—says he can pull DNA from the mummified portion, but he needs a list of candidates to start cross-referencing. Plus all the teeth are still intact, so a dental match is an option. I wanted to touch base with you and get your thoughts on next steps and where to even start for possibilities on victims.”
“You said you spoke briefly with the developer?”
“Roger Song. He’s the developer of the new building, a luxury condominium. He said he purchased the property primarily for the land. I immediately halted all work at the site. He wasn’t happy about it. You’ll want to question him further, since I was primarily trying to get a handle on the scene at the time.”
“All right. I’ll press him myself. In the meantime, see if you can dig up the name on the developer who actually built the building. It makes the most sense to dump the body during construction. Also, try to find out how many owners the building had. I’ll go ahead and question Song further. It’s a start. Let’s see where it takes us.”
Chapter 9
Two days later, we touched down at Hong Kong International Airport at seven a.m. Our vacation had officially commenced, and we were all excited and overjoyed to leave the city.
The hotel wasn’t too far from the airport. We took the Airport Express, a high-speed train that zips passengers to the Kowloon station in just twenty minutes. From the Kowloon station, we hopped onto a free shuttle bus that took us to our hotel. The great thing about Kowloon is that it’s pretty dense—a lot to see from the confines of a shuttle bus. It kept the kids from becoming restless.
I booked two deluxe rooms at the Kowloon Shangri-La in Tsim Sha Sui, which boasted unobstructed views of the bay and the skyline on Hong Kong Island. Our rooms wouldn’t be available just yet, but I figured we could check in and drop off our luggage. We were all able to sleep throughout most of the plane ride, so we were energized and eager to see the sights.
Even Po Po had been looking forward to the trip. She missed Hong Kong immensely. She had never wanted to leave but knew it would be good for all of us, especially the kids after the death of my husband and her only son, Peng. We’d had a fast romance and married shortly after meeting. Unfortunately that all ended six months later when I was informed that Peng had been brutally murdered at his office.
At the time, I was the chief inspector in charge of the OCTB. I spent a year focusing all my time and energy on solving his murder. I never did. In the process, the investigation burned me out, and I alienated myself from my newly acquired stepchildren and their grandmother. The move to San Francisco was a way to reset the life button—mostly the one dealing with mine.
The trip back to Hong Kong, our first since we left, would definitely bring back a bevy of memories, but I had discussed this with everyone ahead of time and we were all in agreement that it would still be good to visit.
After leaving our luggage with the front desk, we headed for the promenade that ran along the bay. The sun shone brightly that day, and the weather was a comfortable seventy-five degrees with the skies surprisingly clear. There was no evidence of the severe smog alerts I’d heard about recently. The breeze kept the skies blue and photos of the harbor picture perfect.
Ryan had studied up for our trip and was our official keeper of the map. In the weeks leading up to our departure, he had made an extensive list of the attractions and marked all of them on the map.
“Okay, there are many cool things we can see here.” Ryan rattled them off as we walked along the promenade. “There’s the Space Museum and the Clock Tower. I think we can climb to the top. But the first place we’re going to go is the Avenue of Stars to see Bruce Lee.”
Bruce Lee had become Ryan’s inspiration ever since he became involved in martial arts about three years ago, starting with judo and eventually incorporating kung fu. Posters of the kung fu master hung on the wall in his bedroom, books on his life lined the bookshelf. Ryan even owned a replica of the yellow and black jumpsuit that Lee wore in his movies.
“There he is.” Ryan pointed at the cast-iron statue of Bruce Lee and ran ahead of us. Lucy was fast on his heels. She wasn’t a big fan, but she had gotten in the habit of following her brother everywhere he went.
Po Po and I caught up a few minutes later. Ryan had already snapped a bunch of selfies before turning his cell phone over to me for more photos. Not too long ago, I gave him my old iPhone when I upgraded. I had thought long and hard about it too. I didn’t want him to become a slave to social media—sitting for hours staring and consuming mindless content. But he was older and at an age where he spent more time outside of the house, especially at the dojo. He needed to be reachable. So I limited the amount of time he could spend on it, monitored the apps he had, and blocked his ability to download more on his own.
We spent the next thirty to forty minutes looking at the golden stars embedded in the pavement—Hong Kong’s most famous celebrities. All of Ryan’s favorites were action heroes: Sammo Hung, Jackie Chan, Stephen Chow, and Jet Li to name a few. I must have snapped a zillion photos of the kids posing next to the stars. Michelle Yeoh of Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon fame was Lucy’s favorite. She had watched that movie about half a dozen times with her brother. I was surprised she recognized the name.
All in all, our vacation was off to a grand start. The
quake and work were both distant memories in my head. I was so looking forward to ten drama-free days.
Chapter 10
That same morning, around eight, Leslie was at her apartment finishing her morning cup of coffee while watching the news. The media were still actively covering the Missing Mummy case. A slew of vans had camped outside the building, news crews hoping for another body. So far they hadn’t received any new information but were doing a really good job of keeping the story relevant with the usual leaks coming from inside HKP.
Leslie shook her head as she took another sip of the hot black liquid. Her phone vibrated on the glass top of her dining room table.
Abby: Hey, we’re here. You free for lunch today? Noon?
Leslie: Yup. Dim sum?
Abby: Sounds delicious. Let’s touch base a little before.
Leslie: Talk then.
Leslie lived in a cozy one-bedroom on the fifteenth floor of a high-rise in Hong Kong Island’s Central District, ten minutes from HKP Headquarters. Most of the residents on the island lived in high-rises. The size didn’t bother her much, being single in the recent past and for the foreseeable future. As an inspector with HKP, dating wasn’t easy. She often joked that she was in a sexless relationship with her job.
Leslie was already bathed and dressed for the day; she had gotten her morning run in earlier. She wore her usual: a spiffy black pantsuit. Her makeup was light: only eyeliner, mascara, and rose-colored lipstick. She downed the rest of the coffee, placed the empty mug in the kitchen sink, and headed out.
Up on deck was Song, the developer. His offices were located in the Wan Chai district, not far from the where she lived. She parked her black HKP-issued SUV in a nearby lot. The office building was just two stories, and Song was located on the second floor, above a series of small retail establishments.
Leslie slipped through the narrow door to the building and hoofed it up the wooden stairs leading to the second floor. The hall was quiet and smelled musty. Her heels knocked against the wood floors as she looked at the identification plaques attached to each door. There were about eight. Song Development was located at the end of the hall. She delivered two knocks; the entire door moved within its frame with each whack.
Kowloon Bay (Abby Kane FBI Thriller Book 3) Page 3
