So far he didn’t feel that he had been much help to Lam. He was desperate to be given a meaty case, and to be the one to solve it. He wanted to get the pat on the back from the Chief and earn respect from Lam. If he had that chance to prove himself and he did a good job, then Lam would at least ease up on him a bit.
He liked her and respected her, but she was so tough on him. Always barking instructions, or freezing him out whilst she went off to investigate something herself, leaving him deskbound with a list of things to do. It wasn’t quite how he had imagined it to be when he’d been assigned to her.
His wife couldn’t understand why he put up with it all. She asked him time and again to ask to be moved. But he found himself always defending her, telling his wife that he would learn from the best and then he would gain respect among his colleagues. If he gave in and transferred to another department, then he would lose face. That would be a worse fate for him than to stick it out with Lam.
Before accepting his new post, he had listened to all of the stories about her past, but thought that his colleagues were prone to exaggeration, just trying to make him feel nervous. But now that he had worked with her for six months, he could see that they were all right about her. No one volunteered to be placed with Lam.
A Police Office interrupted Chow’s reverie. “Chow, I’ve got a man at reception asking for Lam. Apparently it’s to do with the Bank case, but refusing to talk to anyone but her. Any chance you could try and talk to him? I think he’s planning on waiting here indefinitely.”
Chow was on his feet and heading to the door before the Officer could even finish his sentence. This was the break that he needed.
When he got to reception a young slim Chinese man, in an ill-fitting suit and tie, sat uncomfortably on a chair. Hunched over with his head in his hands, he looked as though he’d been crying.
Chow walked over the chair and gentled placed his hand on the man’s shoulder.
‘Excuse me Sir?’ he said quietly. ‘I believe you are here in reference to the Bank incident?”
The young man looked up at Chow. He looked tired with dark circles under his eyes. Chow estimated that he was around nineteen or twenty years old.
“Where’s Inspector Lam’, his voice cracked. “I thought I was going to see her?’
‘Inspector Lam is out for the rest of the day, but I’m her partner, I’m working on this case with Inspector Lam. I can help you.” Chow stated
The young man started to shake his head, ‘No, no, it’s OK, I – I can wait.” He said and placed his hands gently on his knees.
‘It’s OK’ Chow tried again. “I am here to help you.”
They both remained silent for a few seconds, the young man considered his options, torn between waiting and getting something off his chest.
Eventually he looked at Chow with a resigned face.
‘OK” he said simply. ‘But only you, I’ll only talk to you.”
Chow nodded and spoke to the reception Officer. A few moments later he had ushered the young man through the side door and into the nearest interview room.
Chow left him sitting on a chair in the interview room with his hands resting on the table. He stepped outside the room and went next door to gather himself, trying to retain his excitement.
He observed him through the two-way mirror for a moment. The young man sat very still, his hands resting calmly on the tabletop, but it didn’t mask the frightened look in his face. He is upset about something, Chow thought, or someone. Once Chow had composed himself and mentally prepared his questions, he went back into the room.
The young man shifted uncomfortably in his seat when Chow sat down opposite him.
‘You don’t have to be nervous here’, Chow smiled kindly, trying to put the young man at ease.
Without looking at Chow, the young man started to talk. His voice was quiet, like a whisper and Chow had to lean in to hear what he was saying.
“My name is Stephen Lau.” He spoke in a whisper. “I saw Inspector Lam on the news after the Bank shooting.” He kept his eyes focused on his hands. He had interlocked his fingers and was twisting and untwisting them as he spoke. Chow prompted him further.
“Yes, that’s right. Is there something that you know about the case that you would like to tell me”, Chow urged, hoping that his gentle nurturing would give the young man confidence.
‘Yes…I” he stuttered, “I think the dead man is my Father.” Stephen Lau spoke with his eyes cast down towards the table. Chow thought he could be silently crying, so he lent across the table and reached for a packet of tissues, pushing them across the table towards Lau, Chow pressed on with his questions.
“Why do you think it’s your Father? We haven’t released a photo or description”, Chow stated.
Lau rubbed his forehead with both hands and rubbing his eyes sat up straight to face Chow.
“My Mother had been worried. My father left home just over a week ago, telling her that he was coming to visit me in Hong Kong. I moved here from China to study just over six months ago. My parents had saved up enough for me to attend the Hong Kong University, but I knew that it cost them a lot of money. Then my father lost his job, and my Mother is not well and needs a lot of medical treatment, so I think their money ran out.” He sighed sadly before continuing.
“I speak to my Mother every week. When my Mother called me to ask if my Father had arrived safely, it was the first I’d heard of his visit. He never came to see me. So then we became worried. My mother started to ask around some of his friends, and finally one of them admitted that he knew where he had gone.” Stephen Lau tugged one of the white tissues from the packet and blew his nose. He screwed the tissue up and pushed it deep into his trouser pocket before continuing.
“ My mother found out that when one of his ex-work colleagues heard that my Father was having money trouble, he put him in touch with an acquaintance in Hong Kong who was looking for someone to do some odd jobs. Apparently the pay was OK. So my Father accepted without really asking too many questions. He was so foolish.” Stephen Lau, sat silently, not wanting to go on.
“Carry on.” Chow said. “In your own time”.
“He knew what he was doing was high risk, but he agreed anyway. He told his friend it was simple. All that he had to do was to walk into a bank to test their security system. To see how far into the bank he could get before being stopped by the security guards. It was supposed to be that simple. If he managed his task successfully, they were going to give him RMB50’000.00 for that one easy job.” Stephen Lau’s shoulders sank. “There’s no such thing as easy money.” He said to himself.
“He’d told all of this to his friend and asked his opinion. His friend said that he should find something else to do, another way to raise the money. But the offer was too great. He really thought he could just do it and walk away. It’s more money than he could earn in half a year.” Stephen was crying now. He grabbed another tissue to dab the tears, sniffing them back.
“Of course he never made it out of the bank, and he was never paid the money.” Stephen looked up at Chow, his eyes red now from the tears, his nose swollen.
“My mother told me all of this and I didn’t believe her. I couldn’t believe it. Then I saw it on the news here in Hong Kong, now I know that it’s true.”
Chow leaned forwards and rested his hand on Stephen’s shoulder. It seemed to sag under the weight of his hand.
“I’m sorry Stephen.”
“He was not a bad man, just trying to help his family.” Stephen said as he slumped back in the hard wooden chair.
Chow sat back considering the young man before him. It was such a sad common theme, one, even in his short career, that he had heard many times over. Struggling mainland families trying to keep things together, lured down a slippery slope hoping for a quick fix, with promises of money, work and opportunity in return for nothing but trouble. There is always a price to pay, Chow thought sadly, and he had paid the highest price of all to keep his fa
mily afloat and his son at University.
“Your fathers friend, the one that he confided in, does he know any more about the man that asked him to do the job?” Chow asked, hopeful that this would give him the lead that they needed.
“All my Mother told me is that he’s from Hong Kong. A gangster. No one knows his real name, but they call him ‘Ghost Face’. “ Suddenly Stephen looked uncomfortable, as though he had given away too much.
“I shouldn’t even be here telling you this.” His eyes looked anxious.
“It’s just that my Mother wants me to bury my Father. That’s why I’m here. My Father is not to be disgraced, he needs a proper burial.” Stephen finished.
‘It’s OK, Stephen, I understand.” Chow said, his mind now racing with the lead that he had just been given.
“We will need to hold your Father’s body here for a while longer. No one else knows anything about you or your Mother. Just me, you need to trust me that everything will be OK.”
“We will need to speak to you again, so for the moment you should remain in Hong Kong and we will need to speak to your Mother and your Father’s friend, but we will be discreet. We will make sure that you are safe.” Chow looked at Stephen and hoped that he had given the boy some security.
“I’m sorry that your Father became involved in something like this and that it ended this way for you and your family.” Chow said sympathetically.
“I will do my best to find the man responsible”.
Stephen nodded silently.
“If you think of anything else, any detail, then just contact me directly. Here’s my number.” Chow reached into his trouser pocket and pulled out a card with his direct number on it and passed it to Stephen. Then pulled out a pen and a second card.
“I’ll need your number and contact details, and I will call you once your Fathers body is ready to be released.”
Chow watched Stephen concentrate as he scribbled his name and number on the back of the card and pass it back to Chow.
“Thank you Stephen, you have been a great help. I’ll walk you out.”
After walking Stephen Lau out of the station Chow sat back down at his desk. He couldn’t believe his luck. He had a lead and a name. Chow was sure that he had heard this name before.
He thought that it was triad related, convinced of it. He would have to call in a favour with his friend at the Organised Crime and Triad Bureau. Seconds later Chow was on the phone.
Chow sat tapping the wooden desk impatient for the return call. He’d spoken to his contact and he had agreed to do some digging. Within minutes the phone rang. Chow grabbed the receiver so fast he almost lost his grip. Fumbling with the phone he finally got it to his ear. “Yes, hi, what do you have?” Chow vigorously wrote down everything that he was being told on a scrap of paper.
“Yes, I understand, no direct contact.” He listened intently.
“OK, yes. This is huge I owe you one.’
Chow replaced the receiver. This was it. He could feel it. A satisfied grin slowly stretched across his face as he grabbed his bags and made his way out of his office.
Chapter 12
AUGUST 8: 4:00pm
Officer Chow stood at the corner of Tai Lam Street in front of a small alleyway. He was close enough to the café and made sure that he was shielded by the 7 Eleven signage so that he could keep himself tucked far enough away and out of sight. He had a good view through the main café window and also the main doorway. He had been there for over an hour having followed Ghost Face. The Triad Bureau tip-off made it easier than Chow thought possible. He was under strict instructions to observe and not approach Ghost Face under any circumstances.
What he didn’t expect to see through the café window was Ryan Harper, the eye witness from the bank with a very good looking young Chinese woman. This, he thought excitedly, was all a bonus. The three of them were in deep discussion with their heads bent forwards making it impossible for Chow to take a clear photograph. His mind was racing. He had genuinely believed Harper to be an innocent bystander, but certainly not now. Now Harper was very clearly involved in whatever this was. Minutes later Ghost Face stepped out of the café and looked across the street directly towards where Chow was standing. Chow quickly flattened his body hard against the wall to try and hide himself. Shit, shit, he said to himself. I don’t think he saw me. Chow waited for a few seconds longer and then carefully moved himself forwards to look back toward the Café. Relieved, he saw that Ghost Face had gone. He could still see Harper and the woman inside talking, so now Chow decided to wait and see where they went next. Five minutes after Ghost Face left the café, Harper also left, leaving just the woman still sitting inside. He managed to get a few full face shots of Harper with his camera as he walked down the street on the opposite side, totally oblivious to Chow’s presence.
Chow felt the exhilaration bite in his stomach. He knew he was onto something major. He just needed to hang on and wait for the woman now, and then he’d follow her. Once he had a bit more information he’d call it in to Lam. He didn’t want her all over it before he had a chance to get something concrete. If his gut feeling was right, and if he managed to pull this off, it would absolutely give him the recognition that he deserved, but he first needed to be clear with his facts.
Lost in his own reverie, Chow almost missed the woman leaving the café. She walked with intention. Her large black leather bag slung over her shoulder. He watched as she slipped on her dark glasses and made her way down the street. Chow bent down and hastily grabbed the handle of his backpack. He was about to follow the woman when he heard a scraping noise in the alleyway behind him. He swiftly turned his head to give a cursory glance. As he did so he saw a flash of silver metal and felt the cool pressure across his neck. He didn’t have time to make a noise or respond. The razor-sharp knife moved silently and swiftly in front of him, doing its job effortlessly. Chow slowly slid down the wall sideways until he was squatting on the floor, his forehead gently resting against his knees and his arms loose by his side. His last breath exited his body along with his life’s blood as it trickled and weaved down the alleyway following his killer, his camera and his backpack.
Chapter 13
AUGUST 8: 7:30pm
The second hand on the metal analogue wall clock ticked loudly. It was 7:30pm and Ryan had already been sitting in his apartment staring at the clock for thirty minutes. He found the waiting almost unbearable. It was as though time itself had suddenly decided to slow down, teasing him as each second ticked by. He was sure that the sound of the clock was becoming louder and louder with each tiny movement of the hand. It was the only sound that he could now hear.
He shifted his gaze to the palm of his hands. They felt clammy, so he rubbed them on his trousers, all the while listening to the deafening noise of the clock. Tick tick tick. His apartment felt eerily quiet. He stood up and started to pace across the floor, stopping in front of the hall mirror. He considered his clothes. Everything was black tonight. From his black rubber soled shoes to his trousers and long sleeved t-shirt. He even wore black socks. Just like she said, he thought to himself.
He continued down the hallway to his bathroom and turned on the cold water tap, cupping his hands underneath, he let the water slowly fill them up, then he splashed the cold water across his face. The unexpected coolness of the water forced him to take in a sudden short breath, which immediately sharpened his mind. He was grateful for the change in temperature and welcomed the feeling as his skin prickled. He lifted his head and looked into the mirror considering the reflection before him.
The lighting was bright and harsh, highlighting the purple rings that were visibly forming under his eyes. Ryan could feel his empty stomach churning and swirling, partly from nerves, and partly from hunger. If he ate something now, for sure he would be bringing it up again in no time, so he tried to put the thought to the back of his mind.
Turning off the tap, Ryan straightened up and dried his hands slowly and thoroughly, taking time o
ver each finger and palm until he was sure there was no moisture left. He careful replaced the towel on its hook and looked again at his wristwatch. It was 7:35pm. Ryan’s stomach somersaulted again, lurching every time his thoughts drifted back to earlier that day. He replayed the scene once again in his head.
AUGUST 8: 3:30pm
‘So what do you think we should do?’ Ryan asked, his voice low.
Lily sighed heavily and shook her head. She cast her eyes down to her cold coffee and played absentmindedly with the teaspoon, stirring the brown liquid around and around in the cup as though she would find an answer inside if she stirred for long enough.
They had been sitting in the café for over an hour now talking.
Ryan had told her what he knew so far. Rob had just seemed to disappear from work, followed by the terrifying phone call. He’d tried calling Rob’s cell phone several times. It just went straight to voice mail. Ryan’s gut instinct was screaming at him, but at that point he just didn’t know which way to turn and whom he should go to. Lily had been his obvious choice to call.
It had been made very clear to him by the caller that he was not to discuss anything with the Police. But Lily knew Rob better than anyone. She was his safe option, and she was willing to be there with him.
Lily suddenly tapped Ryan’s arm causing him to look at her. Her face had stiffened a little and she was staring straight ahead at the café entrance.
A pale faced Chinese man walked slowly towards them. He was wearing a black suit, and black tie. Ryan looked at the man with vague recollection. He wracked his brains trying to place him. Where had he seen him before?
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