Shanghai Story: A WWII Drama Trilogy Book One

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Shanghai Story: A WWII Drama Trilogy Book One Page 14

by Alexa Kang


  Taking the problem further, an army of armed men unpaid and unfed was itself a problem that could lead to serious trouble ahead.

  Lack of funds plagued the KMT. Their plans suffered constant delays and often came to a halt. Always, as soon as they made an inch of progress, something else would fall short.

  He picked up the phone, ready to call in the secretary to help him send a telegram to Father Theodore Grant, chaplain at Wesleyan who he’d gotten to know back when he was a student there. So much depended on the China Lobby, and Father Grant was his direct link. That group of sympathetic American missionaries and educators worked tirelessly to alert the U.S. Congress of the KMT’s precarious situation in China. At times, he could find a more sympathetic ear among them than with Joseph Whitman, his American liaison in Shanghai.

  “Please! I have to see him. Let me see him.” The loud cries of a woman came screaming from outside his door, followed by a confusion of other voices. He looked up, wondering what all the commotion was about.

  “Where is he? I have to see him!” the cries continued. Clark put down the phone receiver. He knew this voice.

  Xiaochun?

  What was she doing here? He jolted up from his seat and went out to the office floor.

  At the reception area, a hysterical Xiaochun tried to break loose from the two security guards who were holding her back. An angry Huang Shifu yelled at the guards to let her go and one of them yelled back. The entire office staff watched in shock. With Huang Shifu and the guards talking over each other and Xiaochun bawling, Clark couldn’t understand what anyone was saying.

  “Young Master!” Xiaochun gave her arm one hard swing and broke free from the guard. “Young Master!” She ran up to Clark, knelt down, and grabbed his hand. “Help me. Help me. I beg you, help me.”

  The security guards came forward, ready to pull her back again.

  “Wait,” Clark told them, then crouched down and lifted her up. “What happened?”

  “It’s Ah-Jin. My husband. The police arrested him. They took him and a group of people away from the Blue Lotus. I went to the police station. They . . . they . . .” She hyperventilated through her tears, unable to speak.

  “They what?” Clark asked.

  “They took him away to be shot!” Huang Shifu said, desperation haunting his eyes. “They said they’re cleaning up the opium dens. They said opium users are rotten elements and the ones they captured this time would be the first ones to be scrubbed. Young Master, what should we do?”

  Clark froze. How did this happen? Deng was supposed to take action against the opium dens and the people running them, not the users. “This has to be a mistake.” He turned to his chauffeur. “Huang Shifu. Take us there. Now.”

  “Yes.” The chauffeur immediately headed toward the door.

  “Xiaochun.” Clark squeezed her arm. “Let’s go. It’ll be all right. We’ll find him.”

  Frazzled, Xiaochun followed him as Huang Shifu waved frantically for them to hurry. For her sake, Clark tried to keep calm. He hoped he could get to Deng before anything drastic happened.

  At the police station, Clark demanded to see Deng, only to be greeted by Officer Zhou.

  “Pardon us, Counselor,” Zhou apologized. “Superintendent Deng isn’t here. He’s gone to oversee the execution of the prisoners we’ve arrested.”

  “Who are the prisoners?” Clark asked. His heart raced. “Anyone by the name of Liang Ah-Jin?”

  Zhou checked the file on the clerk’s desk. Clark held his breath as he watched Zhou search for Ah-Jin’s name.

  “Yes.” Zhou closed the file.

  “No!” Xiaochun cried. Her knees gave out and she would have collapsed if Huang Shifu hadn’t been quick enough to hold her up.

  “Where is the execution taking place?” Clark shouted at Zhou. “Take me there. Now!”

  The police staff around them looked at Zhou, waiting to see his next move. Zhou calmly signaled them to return to work, then said to Clark, “Follow me.”

  Zhou took them outside to a police car. Without saying another word, he got into the driver’s seat, turned on the siren, and raced through the streets. In the passenger’s seat next to him, Clark gazed out at the road. His mind registered none of the scenery ahead. Catching himself tapping his finger against the car door’s armrest, he made himself stop, but could do nothing to slow his shortened breath. If he couldn’t save Xiaochun’s husband in time, her whimpering voice behind him would haunt him for the rest of his life.

  They left the city proper and came to an unoccupied factory, the kind they called “go-downs,” beside an abandoned road. The police car had barely screeched to a halt when Clark pushed the door open and jumped out.

  “This way.” Zhou led them toward the back of the go-down. In the open field shielded from public sight, a rifle blasted across a line of blindfolded prisoners just as they reached Deng and his police squad. In horror, Clark watched the prisoners’ bloodied bodies drop to the ground.

  Xiaochun let out a loud scream and fainted. Clark and Huang Shifu caught her before she fell backward onto the ground.

  “Xiaochun! Xiaochun!” Huang Shifu tried to shake her awake. Clark let go of her and went to Deng.

  “Counselor Yuan?” Deng greeted him in surprise.

  Clark pointed at the line of dead bodies. “Liang Ah-Jin. Is Liang Ah-Jin here?”

  “You mean the man you wanted to make sure never set foot in the Blue Lotus again? That’s him.” Deng pointed at the body on the farthest right among the executed. “Just as you wished, he’ll never go back there now.”

  Clark glared at him. Was this a joke? “I didn’t mean you should kill him.”

  Deng’s face hardened. “Counselor, he broke the law. Opium use is illegal. These men were scoundrels. We rounded them up along with the dealers. You and I discussed this.”

  “Liang Ah-Jin is my servant’s husband!”

  Deng’s brows rose slightly. “I’m sorry. I did not know that and you never told me. Should I have made an exception for him on account of that reason?”

  Clark clenched his fist. Of course he couldn’t say that.

  Deng played him.

  But why?

  He took an involuntary step away from the dead bodies sprawling on the ground. So furious, he could hardly breathe.

  “Young Master,” Huang Shifu called out to him. Xiaochun was still passed out.

  Clark returned to his chauffeur. “Take her home. Don’t let her wake up and see this.”

  Struggling with the weight of Xiaochun’s body, Huang Shifu propped her up against his side. A stream of tears fell down his face.

  “I’ll drive you back,” Zhou offered and helped him lift Xiaochun away.

  When they were gone, Clark went up to Ah-Jin’s corpse and crouched down next to his body. A red patch of blood soaked his shirt over his wound. The blood of dozen others killed alongside him stained the ground.

  The sound of Deng’s footsteps came up behind him.

  “Who are all these people?” Clark asked without looking up. How many more men died here today for nothing more than being an addict? Their blood was on his own hands. Deng might have ordered the execution, but he instigated this disaster.

  “I can give you all their names with their list of violations when we return to the station,” Deng said. “I’ll have my people send you a report.” He waved to his staff and ordered them to gather the bodies.

  Clark glanced at Ah-Jin again.

  “Don’t worry, Counselor. His body will be preserved for you to claim if you wish. Let’s go. We can continue our discussion in the car.”

  A dead person couldn’t be revived. He stood up and followed Deng back to the police cars. It took him every ounce of restraint to maintain his composure.

  All he wanted to do was to save a drug addict. It was a favor as small as lifting a finger. How could he have messed up so badly?

  How would he face Xiaochun and explain it all when she woke up?

  In t
he backseat of the police car, Clark faced out the open window away from Deng as the driver took them away. The wind slapped against him and the scenery slid by in a blur. He couldn’t look Deng in the eye. He wanted to punch him hard in the face.

  If Deng noticed his displeasure, he wasn’t showing it. “The Blue Lotus is now closed down,” he boasted. “Altogether, we busted ten opium dens last night. Not only did we arrest more than forty dealers, we rounded up twenty-five heroin and opium addicts too.”

  Clark swung his head around. “You mean there were more people arrested?”

  “Of course! Ours was a huge operation. We had to take it seriously when you came asking for a favor in person. Secretary Sītu sent you. Disappointing you would be equivalent to disappointing him.”

  Nonsense. They both knew it. If only he could call him out on it. “Where are the rest of the prisoners now?”

  “They were all executed earlier. That was the last round.”

  Clark tightened his jaw. “The addicts didn’t have to be killed. Their punishment didn’t fit crime.”

  “Counselor,” Deng said, taking on a righteous tone, “these human wastes don’t deserve your sympathy. Get rid of a few, the city’s cleaned up. Every street now is aware we’re watching. We’ll have at least a few months of peace. As for your servant’s husband . . .” He glanced sideways at Clark. “I’m very sorry. That was an unfortunate misunderstanding. But for her type of people, nothing couldn’t be solved with a little compensation.”

  Clark swallowed and stared into space out the window. The car drove on down the bumpy road. He had doubts about Deng before, but he never imagined things would get this far out of hand. He wished he had never approached Deng for help.

  “Oh, and Counselor, about the Green Gang . . .”

  Clark tensed. Did Deng do anything else he had to worry about?”

  “You said they were harassing American companies? You don’t have to worry about that anymore. I took care of it.”

  “What do you mean you took care of it?”

  “You needn’t be burdened by miscellaneous details. Leave that grunt work to me and my men. Rest assured, the Americans will be pleased. The Green Gang won’t be a problem for them anymore.”

  “Tell me what you did,” Clark said. He wasn’t about to turn a blind eye if Deng had done something he wouldn’t approve.

  Deng rested his hands on his knees. “I had a little talk with people in the gang who mattered, that’s all.” His lips turned up into a satisfied smile. “Normal police procedures. I let them know we the police are still in charge.”

  Clark’s chest grew tighter as he tried to remain calm. He did not trust Deng, no matter what he said. Not after what happened today. “Superintendent. Let me be clear. If you ever do anything to harm our relationship with the Americans, if I ever find out you did anything out of line, I will not let you off easy.”

  “Counselor!” Deng raised his brows. “Why would I ever do that? We’re on the same side. I’m at your service.” He took a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket and offered it to Clark. Clark grimaced and looked away. Deng shrugged, took out a cigarette, and lit it for himself as they rode in silence the rest of the way.

  At the police station’s reception room, Clark waited for the last piece of information he wanted from this catastrophe. He wanted to know every addict who Deng had caught. If anyone else besides Ah-Jin was unjustly killed, the least he could do was to make amends. Be it cash to their families from his own family, or some other favor that wouldn’t tie the government to the drug raid.

  Officer Zhou entered with a knock on the door. “Counselor Yuan?”

  Clark barely acknowledged him. He still felt ill from what happened today.

  “Here’s the list of the criminals’ names you wanted.” Zhou laid the file on the coffee table. He started to leave the room, then halted. “Counselor,” he said, but scowled and shook his head.

  “What is it?” Clark asked.

  Zhou threw a glance at the staff outside, then closed the door. Keeping his guard, Clark watched him take a seat across the coffee table.

  “We raided ten opium dens yesterday. Including the Blue Lotus. All of them were Sons of Dragons outfits. They’re a smaller band of outlaws operating in the area of the Old City near the small Southern Gate.”

  Clark had never heard of them before. In Shanghai, one often heard rumors of all kinds about the city’s criminal underworld. But he was still a school student when he went abroad. The dark society wasn’t something he knew much about.

  What was Zhou’s motive in telling him this?

  “The Sons of Dragons had been getting bold in recent months. A new head had taken over. I’d say he’s a little too ambitious, too overconfident. His thugs have been testing the limits, flouting the rules set by the Green Gang, even openly sparring with some of the Green Gang’s lower level members. We’ve had to intervene in a series of fights. The thing that irritated the Green Gang most is how they’ve been infringing on some of the other smaller gangs’ territories, secretly operating on their own and underselling their drugs without giving the Green Gang a cut. This matter’s causing Superintendent Deng a lot of headaches. He doesn’t want to see an all-out gang war. It’d make him look bad if he can’t at least appear to be in control of the gangs and keep peace. On the other hand, the Superintendent isn’t about to stake himself out to settle this problem. Not unless someone’s backing him behind the scenes and he gains direct benefit. Your request for a favor to intervene in the drug business gave him the excuse to put the Sons of Dragons in their place.”

  “My request?” Clark asked. “Are you saying I gave him the backing? I did no such thing.”

  “Of course not. But you came at the behest of the KMT. Someone from the KMT gave him the okay.”

  Who? Deputy Secretary Sītu?

  “The official reason for the drug raid was to rein in the opium dens. The real mission was to eliminate the Sons of Dragons. We wiped out more than half of their top level yesterday. The Green Gang is very pleased.”

  “Are you saying the police colluded with the Green Gang to target the Sons of Dragons?”

  “No.” Zhou shook his head. “I didn’t say that. I’m merely describing the aftermath. But if you want to find out, all you have to do is follow the money trail.”

  Follow the money trail?

  Zhou picked up the small notepad and pen on the coffee table, scribbled something, then tore out the page and handed it to Clark. On it was a company name, “Green Fortune Enterprises.”

  “The Green Gang runs a number of clean businesses.” Zhou put down the pen.

  Clark held on to the paper. Was Zhou helping him? Could he trust Zhou and what he said? “What about the twenty-five addicts? Why did they have to be killed?”

  “I have no proof to confirm it, but my informants told me they all owed the Green Gang huge gambling debts. Their executions likely sent a warning to all their other debtors out there to pay up.”

  Clark picked up the file Zhou put on the coffee table and pulled out the list with the names of the executed.

  Borrowing a knife to commit murder. Deng had used him as a pawn to help the Green Gang achieve their ends. Moreover, someone in the KMT had approved. Was it Sītu? Could Sītu be this duplicitous?

  “The Sons of Dragons’ opium dens we shut down yesterday will reopen,” Zhou continued. “I’m sure you know that. It’s impossible to extinguish crimes in this city. When the dens reopen, they’ll be Green Gang operations.”

  Of course, Clark thought to himself. He felt so dumb. So myopic. All this time, the wheels of a vast setup churned around him, and he had remained clueless.

  “With this new income, my guess is the Green Gang should find it not worth their time to extort money from foreign-owned factories.”

  Clark jerked up his head. So that was what Deng meant when he said he’d taken care of the Green Gang problem. He’d let the Green Gang usurp the Sons of Dragons’ properties in exchan
ge for the Green Gang leaving the Americans alone.

  He smiled at his own ignorance. He’d been gone too long. America had made him forget that law and order in Shanghai were a matter of transactions.

  What about Zhou? Was he offering something on the table too? Right now? “Why are you telling me all this? Aren’t you putting yourself at risk by saying so much?”

  “We all need the right connections,” Zhou said. “I don’t want all my connections to be wayward ones, Young Master Yuan.” He looked directly at Clark as he said the last three words.

  Clark raised his eyes in surprise. Zhou. No detail got past him. He knew who Clark was beyond his role as a foreign affairs agent.

  “In this world, there had to be people who still have a conscience, right?” Zhou softened his voice with a friendly smile. “It can’t be that the only ones left are the ones out for themselves. I can’t make everything right all the time, but I try. Besides, you look like you can use a friend on my turf too.”

  Clark eased up a bit. Yes. He could certainly use a friend, at the police station and beyond. He wished he’d wised up sooner.

  Going forward, he would never rely on anyone else’s connections again. The time had come for him to build his own network of connections. He needed his own friends. Here, there, and everywhere.

  Stepping out of the police station, Clark scanned the side of the road. Behind two police cars, Huang Shifu stood dutifully waiting as always, except for the grief-stricken look on his face.

  “I tried to help her, Young Master,” he said as he opened the door to let Clark in. “If I’d driven faster, we would’ve gotten there in time to save her husband. Poor woman. Her poor son.”

  Clark patted his stooping shoulder. “It’s not your fault.”

  No. Huang Shifu was definitely not responsible. If anyone was at fault, it was he himself.

  The chauffeur, still shaken, climbed into his seat, turned the key, and headed home.

 

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