by Dawson, Mark
He sat. “What do you want?”
“I watched him. He is well guarded. As far as he is concerned, I’m still here. He’ll be careful until he’s sure I’m gone.”
“So?”
“So there will be somewhere he lets his guard down. His home, his mistress, a restaurant he likes to visit. Somewhere he feels safe. Do you still have your police connection?”
“Yes,” he said. Chau was friendly with an officer in the Organised Crime and Triad Bureau of the Hong Kong Police Force. The officer was bent and could be bought.
“Speak to him. Tell him you want to know everything he knows about Ying. I want his routine. They’ll have had surveillance on him. They probably still do. And then you tell me what he tells you. I’ll look at it and pick out the weak spots. That’s the first thing.”
“The second?”
“I need a weapon.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
BEATRIX HAD ignored the urge to smoke that night and had stayed in her cheap hotel room, watching Chinese television. She managed five hours of almost uninterrupted sleep and awoke to feel more refreshed than she could remember.
When she opened the Facebook group, she found there was a message for her from Chau.
—MIDDAY. SAME PLACE.
#
CHAU WAS waiting for her.
“You still want Ying?”
“I do.”
He looked terribly nervous. “I…I…”
“What, Chau? You what?”
“Then I know how that can be done.”
“Really?”
“Like you say—I have friends, Beatrix. I ask.”
“The police?”
“No. Friend in Wo Shun Wo.”
“You never mentioned him before.”
“There was never reason to mention him. He says that Ying plays poker every Wednesday night. There is a warehouse he owns. The game is there. Four other players play with him. Old triad friends. High stakes. He will be there tonight.”
“Where is it?”
“It is on Ap Lei Chau. Lee Nam Road.”
“Security?”
“Some. But it is Wo Shun Wo, Beatrix. No criminal is going to rob them, and police are not going to raid triad poker game. Triads own underworld and own police. What do they have to fear?”
Me, Beatrix thought. They have me to fear.
But she knew that Ying would be careful, and she didn’t dismiss the potential for security quite as readily as Chau did.
“Your friend. Is he involved?”
“He will be there. He is croupier. He will leave a door open for us if we pay him well enough.”
“How much?”
“Not too much. Don’t worry about that, Beatrix. I sort it. I benefit, too.”
Beatrix considered the possibilities. It was an opportunity. Somewhere quiet, out of the way. No one to get in the way. Somewhere he would feel safe and secure. That was all good. But there would be security. It would be easier, but it wouldn’t be easy.
Chau reached down and collected a bag that was resting by his feet. He passed it around the table to Beatrix. She opened it and put a hand inside. There were two pistols wrapped in oilcloth inside.
“I don’t need two,” she said.
He looked at her and tried to put a little confidence in his voice. “I will help.”
“Really?”
He nodded. “When he is gone, things better for both of us. The other players will be armed. Two of us will stand a better chance than one.”
That was true. “You have to be sure, Chau. Completely sure.”
He held her eye. “I am sure, Beatrix. This will work. The end of problems for both of us.”
#
SHE TOOK a taxi to the address Chau had given her. Ap Lei Chau was also known as Aberdeen Island, and Lee Nam Road was near the docks. It was south-west of the main island, and the taxi passed over the four-lane bridge that connected the two before skirting the busy central district for the industrial zone to the south. She had the driver stop half a mile away, paid him and got out of the cab. She waited until he had pulled away, and started to walk.
Lee Nam Road was a narrow two-lane highway that was pressed in on one side by the shoulders of the warehouses and office blocks and on the other by the sea. There was a concrete berm topped with a wire-mesh fence and then, beyond it, Aberdeen Harbour and the East Lamma Channel.
Ying’s warehouse housed a legitimate business that supplied ice to bars and restaurants around the city. Beatrix scouted it from the other side of the street. The building was right up close to the street, with trucks bearing the business’s livery parked at the edge of the road. A large roller door was open and a truck, backed halfway into the interior, was being loaded. She counted six members of staff. A seventh man was lounging against the wall, smoking a cigarette as he glared dolefully at the comings and goings outside.
She walked on. More warehouses. Lots of trucks. The sound of freight being hefted around, the reversing-alarms of lorries and the busy hum of forklifts. She stopped at the end of the street and watched as the freshly loaded truck was driven away.
She set off in the direction from which she had arrived, pretending to hold a conversation on her cell phone. She assessed the entrances and exits. It was a single-storey building. There were two long windows on the ground floor, both obscured by lowered blinds. There was the roller door, large enough for a truck to pass through. That, she guessed, would be closed and locked as soon as the day’s business had been concluded. It would be too noisy to open and she discounted it as a means to get inside. The main door for those on foot was to the side of the roller door. A frontal assault? If there were guards, that would be where they were concentrated. She discounted it. Too risky.
She walked on a little more. There was an alleyway between Ying’s warehouse and its neighbour. She saw another door, opened, next to a row of industrial bins. Chau’s contact had told them that was how they would get inside. He would leave it open for them.
That was more promising.
There was nothing about the place that looked out of the ordinary. It looked like a working, legitimate business. She had no doubt that Ying was involved with several all around the city. He would need a mechanism to launder his illicit money. This would be as good as anything.
She walked to the terminal at Lei Tung and rode the bus back to Hong Kong Island. She had already started to plan. Could she trust Chau’s intelligence? There was no reason why not. He had just as much motivation to do away with Ying as she did.
No, she corrected herself. Almost as much.
He hadn’t looked into Grace’s eyes like she had.
But he had enough motivation. Ying wanted Chau dead. He had been living a frightened existence ever since Ying had threatened them both. He knew, better than she did, what the man was capable of. He stood to recover his liberty with the Dai Lo out of the way. This was his home. And he had more of a reason to live than she did. He was invested.
So how would she do it?
She reassessed. Ying and another five men would be there. Maybe guards, too. She could gamble and do it alone, but she stood a better chance with Chau’s help. She would need someone to cover the others while she collected Ying. She had been wary of his offer, but now she found that she agreed with him. It wasn’t ideal, but nothing had been ideal ever since she had landed here. She would make do.
CHAPTER TWELVE
THEY TOOK Chau’s Mercedes to the island. Beatrix sat in the back and made sure that both guns—her Walther P5 and his Browning Hi Power—were clean and ready to fire. She hoped that getting Ying out of the building could be achieved without violence, but she was not prepared to gamble on that. If it was necessary to shoot, the last thing she wanted was for there to be a misfire.
She told him to drive as near to the warehouse as he could. Parking was not easy, but they found an empty space fifty feet to the north.
She gave the Browning back to Chau and told him to pay attention.
“I’m going to go in first and I’m going to do the talking. I want you to stand by the door and cover them. I doubt they will be particularly frightened by having a gun waved in their faces, so we’re going to be firm and to the point. Businesslike. I’ll get Ying and bring him out. You stay and cover the others, then get back to the car. He’ll be in the back with me. You drive.”
“I understand. Where do we take him?”
“There’s empty land on South Horizon Drive. We’ll take him up there and put him in the trunk. I’ll drive from then. We’ll take him somewhere we can make him disappear.” She looked at him sternly. “Is that all clear, Chau?”
“It is.”
“You do exactly as I say. There’s no room for variation.”
“Exactly as you say.”
He looked pale.
She knew she needed to reassure him. “Nerves are fine, Chau. I’ll do most of what needs to be done. You’ll just need to cover me.”
“I know. I got it.”
They got out and Beatrix led the way down the street. She saw nothing that gave her any reason for concern. The business’s trucks were parked on the side of the road, forming a narrow corridor with the building into which small pools of illumination were thrown by the street lights overhead. The roller door was shut and secured by a hefty padlock. The main entrance was shut. As they walked next to the door, she glanced in through the glass panel. The small reception room was dark, save for a sliver of golden light admitted by the gap beneath an internal door that must have led into the warehouse.
Someone was inside.
They walked on until Beatrix was satisfied, then turned and walked back.
The alleyway was dark, but Beatrix could see that the side door was ajar.
Beatrix took two balaclavas from her pocket and tossed one to Chau. “Put it on,” she said.
He nodded and pulled the balaclava over his head, unrolling it all the way until all she could see was the glitter of his black eyes and his thin lips. She did the same.
Beatrix led the way. They advanced into the alleyway.
She reached the door.
She paused there and listened. It was quiet inside. She curled her hand around the Walther P5 and gently pulled the door all the way open.
Inside was a short corridor. It was dark save the light that limned the edges of the interior door at the end of the corridor. Beatrix stepped inside. Her heart beat a little faster. She tamped it down with measured breathing. The adrenaline was good, it would keep her sharp, but she needed to be in control.
She turned her head. Chau was behind her. He had his pistol ready.
She was ready for violence if that was what was needed. Fast, sudden, volcanic violence that would inspire anyone who might doubt her to think again. She would shoot if she had to. She wasn’t fearful of it. It would be an automatic reaction if she found herself in a situation where she determined it was necessary.
She reached the door and paused again. She couldn’t hear anything from the other side.
She turned to Chau, about to tell him to be ready to go, and looked right into the barrel of his raised pistol.
“Do not move, Beatrix.”
“You’ve got to be joking.”
“No joke.”
She shook her head. “Seriously. You’re double-crossing me? You?”
His face was obscured by the balaclava. “You ask me to choose between him and you. I choose him. You are a junkie, Beatrix. I know. I see the signs. How can I trust a junkie? How can you protect me when you don’t even care about protecting yourself?”
A bitter little smile kinked the edges of her mouth. “You idiot, Chau.”
“Take off balaclava and open door.”
She pulled it over her head. She wondered whether there would be any chance of getting to him before he could fire. She concluded that it was too risky. He had cautiously taken two steps back, increasing the distance that she would have to cover. The corridor was narrow, too. The chances of disabling him before he could shoot her were slim.
She cursed herself. Chau, of all people.
He had fooled her.
“Door, please, Beatrix. Open door.”
She turned the handle and opened the door. The room beyond was empty.
There was no table nor any chairs. No sign of a poker game. No sign of Ying.
“Into room, Beatrix.”
She did.
Two men were standing behind the door. They closed it and came forward. One of them said, “Hands behind back.”
“You’re a dead man, Chau.”
He kept the gun trained on her. He was a hopeless klutz, but she knew that he could use it. She had seen him kill before. He was capable of a lot when his own skin was involved. “I am sorry. I have no choice. Now, please—do as he says.”
“Have you listened to a single word I’ve said?”
“I have no choice. Your hands, Beatrix. Do as he says, please.”
She had no choice. She put her hands behind her back and held her wrists together so the bracelets could be fitted. She was pushed into the middle of the room. She turned so that she could get a better look at Chau. He had taken off the balaclava. The colour had drained from his face.
“I’m still going to kill Ying. And now I’m going to have to kill you, too, Chau.”
Ying stepped out of a room at the back at the mention of his name. He laughed. “Ignore her, Chau. She is in no position to make threats. I am certainly not afraid of her.”
He took off his tracksuit jacket. He was wearing a white T-shirt beneath it. A heavy gold chain sparked in the overhead spotlights. He laced his fingers together and made a show of cracking his knuckles.
Beatrix knew she was about to take a beating. The only question was how bad it was going to be.
“You have caused me many problems, Suzy—or should I say Beatrix? And it is a shame. Really. Now, before we can continue, Chau is going to apologise to me. Isn’t that right, Chau?”
She saw Chau swallow and knew what was about to happen. He went to the table, took a white handkerchief from his pocket and opened it. He took his left hand, the one missing a joint of the little finger, and spread it out atop the handkerchief. One of the men who had been waiting for them took a box cutter from a shelf and joined him at the table. Chau closed his eyes, sweat beginning to run freely down his face. The man extended the blade of the cutter and rested the edge below the remaining knuckle of the same finger.
“Are you sorry, Chau?”
“Yes, Dai Lo. I am sorry.”
“Are you very sorry?”
“I am.”
At a nod from Ying, the man sliced down with the knife and severed the finger at the knuckle. It was yubitsume, the Yakuza finger-shortening ritual that the Wo Shun Wo had appropriated. Chau had faced the loss of his finger after insulting Donnie Qi. Beatrix had intervened to save him then. It was funny how life could be, she thought. His destiny had been predetermined. She could have intervened or she could have stayed in her chair. It would have made no difference to him. The result would have been the same.
For her, though?
Things would have been very different. She was paying a heavy price for trying to prevent an inevitability.
The universe was laughing at her. It was all a big cosmic joke.
The blood drained from Chau’s face and he looked as if he was about to faint. He took a second handkerchief and held it around the bleeding stump. Then, he wrapped the severed knuckle in the first handkerchief and presented it to Ying with a deep bow.
“I apologise, Dai Lo.”
“You see,” Ying said, “because he has apologised, I am prepared to spare him. He will be able to work for me again, too. You want to know what his first job will be?”
“I can guess.”
“Yes, I am sure that you can. He will make you disappear when we have finished punishing you for your insolence.”
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a pair of brass k
nuckledusters. He slipped the fingers of his right hand through the holes, adjusted the rounded grip until it was settled and punched it into the palm of his left hand.
Beatrix tested the cuffs. They were solid. There was no prospect of being able to get out of them.
She braced herself for what she knew was coming.
It was going to be one of those days.
Ying punched her in the face.
It was more than just Ying. The two men joined in, too. They laughed and joked as they beat her. They were like animals. They kicked or punched, moved out of the way so that another could get in close enough to kick and punch, then swapped places again. She dropped to the floor so that she could bring her knees up and try to protect her organs. She opened her eyes. White flashes sparked across her vision. She blinked through the starbursts and saw them standing over her, feet raised to kick and stamp. She closed her eyes again. She had her chin pressed up tight against her chest. She switched off her mind, but she remained conscious throughout. The boots to her head and sides were alternated with strategically aimed blows to the mouth, ears and kidneys.
There was a pause and she heard Ying issue what was unmistakeably an order, and then Chau responding diffidently. Ying repeated what he had said and she heard feet, shuffling closer, and then felt a half-hearted kick. “Harder,” she heard Ying order, in English this time. “Kick her harder. Show her what it means to interfere in Chinese business.”
She opened her eyes and looked up at him. There was something animal in Chau’s face. There was pain, from the finger. There was relief, no doubt because he felt that his inclusion in this little game signalled that he was well and truly back within the fold, but something else, too. Something base and primal. His diffidence was gone, as if shorn away with every fresh kick. There was fury in his eyes. Why? Because she had constantly rebuffed his clumsy advances? Because she frightened him, made him feel less of a man? Chinese society—triad society, in particular—was patriarchal. A strong woman, like Beatrix, might have seemed like an affront to his masculinity. Now he was righting the balance.
