Death in Hong Kong

by Martha Fischer

  Death in Hong Kong

  by

  Martha Fischer

  First published in 2017

  Text copyright © Martha Fischer, 2017

  All Rights Reserved

  All moral right of Martha Fischer to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

  All the characters in this book are fictitious, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead is purely coincidental.

  Contents

  Prologue

  Christmas woes

  Hong Kong here we come!

  High society

  Christmas in Hong Kong

  The war of the tycoons

  Encounter with Mr Wu

  The clash of the tycoons

  Accidents will happen

  Behind the scenes – and beyond

  Breaking up is hard to do

  New Year’s eve

  Happy New Year?

  Geoffrey

  Hide and seek in Hong Kong

  A riddle needs to be solved

  The wisdom of the Bible

  The final encounter

  Goodbye

  Prologue

  I guess we all have a friend who attracts trouble like a magnet. Common, decent, often very nice people – but they have a knack of ending up in the kind of situation that you’d rather have avoided. I have such a friend – actually she’s my best friend – Amanda. Whenever she goes on holiday she tends to end up in some kind of trouble. I’m not even talking about her romantic entanglements (although those can be, let’s say… complicated, as well).

  No, Amanda stumbles into some kind of mystery wherever she goes. Some people would say it’s part of her karma.

  My friend is a teacher and one could argue that teachers, by nature of their profession, are bound to end up in trouble anyhow. It’s not the teachers’ fault really, in my eyes. Just imagine going out every morning to teach petulant adolescents who’re convinced that the internet and artificial intelligence will spare them any effort of studying and you’ll understand what I mean.

  But back to Amanda. Take my advice: never, ever book a holiday with Amanda… unless you’re bored and on the lookout for adventure.

  This is Amanda’s latest story. I wanted her to write it down herself but she just made a face. ‘Nobody is going to believe it. Why don’t you write it down? Maybe people won’t think I made it all up then.’

  Well, that’s true enough. But I guess nobody will believe me either.

  But it would be a pity not to share her last adventure.

  So here we go: this is Amanda’s story.

  Christmas woes

  ‘Let’s call it a day then. It’s finished!’ Amanda shouted into her phone.

  ‘Amanda, come on, be reasonable, let’s talk! There’s an explanation. It’s not at all what it looks like, trust me.’ Daniel’s voice made the loudspeaker vibrate, mellow and persuasive as ever.

  ‘There’s nothing to be discussed, Daniel – and how stupid do you think I am still to trust you? Reasonable or not, you’re a free man now and I’m not coming to New York. And…’ Amanda tried hard to suppress the sob that risked killing the effect before she shouted, ‘that’s final.’

  Not waiting for a reply, Amanda metaphorically slammed the receiver down. Not easy without a receiver. All she could do was to press the red button on her mobile several times, pressing so hard that the cover glass almost cracked under the strain. In the old days it must have been vastly more gratifying to slam down a receiver after a good row – but those times were gone.

  Gone, like her relationship.

  But no feeling of relief or satisfaction set in as Amanda looked out of the window. Shapeless clouds obliterated the sky: a depressing sight, thick like wet, dirty cotton wool. As so often during that miserable winter it was pouring outside, a perfect match to Amanda’s tears that were starting to flow freely.

  Christmas was close and here she was, sitting in her small living room, all alone. She had just successfully dumped a most attractive boyfriend and reneged on a dream vacation to New York. In short, she had screwed it all up. Once again.

  ‘Congrats!’ she muttered. ‘You just made a complete mess out of your private life – again.’

  ‘It’s become something of a bad habit,’ her inner voice replied. She hated her inner voice.

  Amanda had been looking forward so much to this trip, had spent hours dreaming about New York with its legendary Christmas decorations, seen herself skating with Daniel under the gigantic Christmas tree in the Rockefeller Centre. And afterwards… why not go shopping in Fifth Avenue, maybe watch a show, dine in a fancy restaurant, cuddle up in a lavish hotel bed. She had been looking forward to spending the Christmas vacation of a lifetime.

  A fairy dream shattered to pieces like the cup she had dropped this morning – a bad omen to start the day. She’d be alone at Christmas now as her parents had already fled the cold and the leaden darkness of the northern skies to some spot in the Mediterranean.

  Alone at Christmas… a truly depressing thought.

  Angry about her bout of self-pity Amanda blew her nose. She looked around warily until her glance hit the tabloid that lay open on the glass table.

  ‘Daniel Greenfield’s latest conquest!’ screamed the headline. A series of photos showing Daniel locked into different and far too intimate positions with a young model followed. The model was clad in the tightest bikini imaginable – the new rising star, Miss Brazil, as the tabloid informed the curious reader. Miss Brazil had breasts that were either a unique gift of Mother Nature or a silent witness of the skills of a surgeon excelling in his profession. They were of bountiful perfection, waiting only to burst out of her super-tight bikini top.

  The two of them must have been having a great time. Holding a bottle of vintage champagne in her hand, Miss Brazil was blowing a kiss to the unknown photographer while Daniel grinned sheepishly into the lens, holding tight to her well-shaped and superbly tanned body.

  The phone rang. It was Daniel, once again. Still sizzling with anger she closed her phone. There was no point in continuing this agony. It was not just this silly article in the tabloid, advertising to the whole wide world that Daniel was flirting with a girl not even half his age. Men were stupid: that didn’t need any further explanation. But wasn’t her whole relationship with Daniel as fake as the heavy eyelashes of Miss Brazil? What time and what kind of interest did they really share? How could they ever envisage building a life together, sharing things, growing old together?

  Amanda was certainly a very attractive woman, but she knew she’d never aspire to rival the skinny young models flapping around the rich and beautiful of the jet set like moths circling around a candle. Whereas she spent her days in her local school, teaching, Daniel was jetting around the world as an investment banker, the kind of fascinating bad boy who’d never grow up – and who had no intention of doing so.

  They were living on different planets, a perfect mismatch from the start. It was time to open her eyes and face the ugly truth – even if the truth was hurting, hurting her very much.

  Sitting in the darkness of her small living room, Amanda spent a long time wallowing in her misery while she watched the raindrops speeding down the windowpanes.

  ‘Wake up,’ her inner voice chided. ‘You’ll end up becoming depressed. There are plenty of nice and handsome men out there. Move, meet new people!’

  Her inner voice was right, as it often enough was. She couldn’t possibly continue sitting there, watching the raindrops until Christmas.

  But what could she do? She remembered her friend Susan, always so practical. Susan would know what to do; even if she didn’t, it would be good t
o be talking to a sympathetic listener. Amanda missed her best friend badly since Susan had moved to Cambridge with her husband-to-be, Professor Hopkins, after a case of love at first sight. Amanda sighed. Why did her own love life have to be so complicated when others simply fell in love and seemed to go on living happily ever after?

  Looking forward to talking to someone who’d certainly understand her woes, Amanda opened the cell phone and dialled Susan. But the phone kept ringing; there was no answer. Amanda felt irritated; Susan should know better than to ignore her call. She should realize that her best friend needed her right now. Probably she’d be out shopping for Christmas presents with her husband, having a marvelous time.

  ‘What a jealous bitch I’ve become,’ Amanda thought. ‘I don’t even deserve to have a friend like Susan.’

  Amanda was ready to drown in her own misery when the phone rang, disturbing the tomb-like silence of her flat.

  ‘If it’s Daniel, I won’t answer.’ Her resolve wouldn’t waver. But the phone flashed Susan’s picture, a smiling Susan, a picture that Amanda had taken last summer on a cruise.

  ‘Hi, Amanda, it’s me. Did you try to call?’

  ‘I did, but you didn’t answer, pet. Anyhow, it wasn’t that important.’ Amanda tried hard to sound casual.

  ‘Well, I was busy, no need to go into any details,’ came the cheerful reply. ‘Anything amiss?’

  ‘No, I’m fine. I mean, not really great, but fine.’ Amanda tried even harder to sound convincing. She decided that she wouldn’t burden Susan with her problems after all; she would be cheerful.

  ‘Bollocks – you sound as if you’re going to a funeral. What’s up?’

  How could Susan always read her like an open book? No use at all to go on pretending she was feeling cheerful.

  ‘I’m afraid you got me there. It is sort of a funeral – I just broke up with Daniel.’

  ‘Oh dear – that qualifies of course as a major disaster. Weren’t you going to New York next week for Christmas? What happened to make you change your mind?’

  ‘Well… that was the plan…’ Amanda replied in a flat voice, while she tried to wipe the treacherous tears away. ‘I found Daniel’s photos in a tabloid this morning. Kissing Miss Brazil – young and beautiful like I could never be. Susan, I’m simply tired of this. I don’t want to be his part-time girlfriend – you know, the nerdy one who can even read a book and the one he can parade around when he’s feeling intellectual or needs someone who can read a menu in French. Did you happen to see… those photos?’

  ‘I saw them yesterday at the hairdresser’s, love, as did probably six million other readers. I was almost sure you’d call me. But maybe there’s some kind of explanation to all this? I mean, these tabloids blow it all up, that’s what they thrive on.’

  ‘Daniel told me that there was an explanation, of course – an explanation as genuine as her boobs, probably. I’m just so fed up.’

  ‘I understand, darling. You’re not crying, are you?’

  ‘Of course I’m not. I’m a grown-up woman. I can cope,’ Amanda sobbed into the phone.

  ‘Hmm… I see…’ came the reply. ‘Any idea what you’re going to do for Christmas now? A change of scene would be nice.’

  ‘No idea. I guess I’ll just stay here, read a book, have a truly relaxing holiday. I’ve been dreaming about that for years actually…’

  ‘That sounds fabulous, just like the kind of celebration everybody should have for Christmas… Come on, be reasonable, you can’t sit there alone, heartbroken and miserable.’

  ‘I could look for a last-minute trip…’ She knew she sounded unconvincing.

  ‘I’d love to invite you over to Cambridge but Neil and I will be spending the next three weeks in Hong Kong.’

  ‘You mentioned it. I remember – he’s attending some kind of convention there before Christmas.’

  ‘Yes, a toxicologists’ convention, doesn’t that sound thrilling?’ Susan laughed. ‘The kind of convention where nobody will dare to touch the buffet as they’ll be pointing out all the time what kind of poisonous substances and fungi can be found in the most harmless-looking food. It tends to stall my appetite. I’m actually packing our suitcases right this minute – we’re about to leave.’

  ‘Sounds like a real treat then. Believe it or not, I feel better already. Just talking to you helped. Thanks a lot. I won’t disturb you any longer.’

  ‘You never disturb me, love. Make yourself a big pot of coffee and eat a bar of your favourite chocolate – chocolate always helps when you’re in trouble. Those are the wise words of Doctor Susan.’

  Amanda had to smile. ‘Thanks, Doctor Susan, I’ll do that. Maybe I’ll make it two bars, one might not be enough. Cheers!’

  As soon as their conversation had ended, Susan looked thoughtfully at Neil.

  ‘Did you happen to listen to our conversation, Neil?’

  ‘You should know me better than that – never! Everything all right, I guess? Were you talking to your mother?’

  ‘You’re really hopeless, Neil!’ She smiled lovingly. ‘It was Amanda. Everything is not ok – she just broke up with Daniel.’

  ‘These things happen. She’ll find someone else,’ came the unfeeling reply.

  ‘Of course she will. But she’s feeling totally miserable right now, I could tell. We need to do something – she’s our best friend.’

  Neil looked up uncomfortably from his printouts. ‘How can we do anything? I have to finish my paper for the convention and everything’s booked for our trip. You don’t want me to fly to Hong Kong alone, do you?’

  Susan didn’t reply; her mind was working in top gear.

  ‘I need a cup of tea – tea can do wonders for your brain,’ she finally said.

  ‘Throw in a biscuit or two and I’m with you,’ Neil replied, and turned back to the scientific complications of fighting a septic shock.

  For Susan, making tea was a ceremony in itself. She always used a venerated, if decidedly ugly and battered ceramic teapot she had inherited from her grandmother. She was ready to swear that only tea prepared in this teapot tasted right. As she took the first sips and stared at the fading pink roses on the Victorian cup she had an idea.

  ‘Neil, darling?’

  No answer.

  ‘Neil, darling, please listen to me for once.’

  ‘I’m listening,’ a voice grumbled from behind the papers he was holding like a shield. Susan would not easily be put off or defeated.

  ‘Neil, I have an idea.’

  ‘I was very much afraid that this was going to happen.’ He sighed and placed the papers on his knees, visibly bracing for the unavoidable. ‘Go on, I’m all yours.’

  ‘Hasn’t your friend Geoffrey invited us to stay at his house rather than using a hotel?’

  ‘He did, but we won’t stay there, don’t even think about it. First of all our hotel room has already been paid for by the organizers of the convention. Second, you never know if people really mean what they say when they invite you. He’s a good friend but I’d hate to impose myself for a two-week stay. Just imagine: disturbing Geoffrey right over Christmas. That’s out of question.’

  ‘I wouldn’t be that categorical, darling. Why don’t you write to Geoffrey to find out? Maybe he did mean to invite us after all?’ Susan was all sweetness as she poured another cup of tea and offered a generous helping of chocolate biscuits – Neil’s favourite treat.

  ‘But why?’ Neil replied, eyeing the biscuits greedily. ‘Where did you get the biscuits from? I thought we’d run out.’

  ‘A woman’s secret, never to be given away.’

  Neil returned to the topic under discussion. ‘As I just said, darling, we have a room booked and paid for at the Intercontinental. You can’t ask for anything better in Hong Kong, it’s got the best view of all the hotels – you’ll see – it’s fabulous. Amanda can stay with her parents, she’ll be fine. Just don’t worry.’

  ‘Don’t be so thick, Neil. Her parents have gone away,
no clue where to. I want to invite Amanda to join us in Hong Kong. It’ll be fun to have her staying there when you’ll be tied up with the convention. And it’ll divert her from being miserable and thinking about Daniel all the time. If she can use our room and it’s prepaid, she’s got no reason to decline, she’ll simply have to come.’

  ‘Remind me to hate you.’ Neil sighed. ‘I’ll send a message to my friend, but if he doesn’t reply or his reply is lukewarm, we stay in our hotel, no discussion. I’m not going to glue myself like a leech to a good friend who was careless enough to invite us.’

  ‘No discussion, darling, promise. But let me write a quick word to Geoffrey – you’re far too busy.’

  Neil looked at Susan suspiciously, but she smiled back, a picture of purest innocence. Seconds later she had extracted Geoffrey’s email address from Neil and withdrew to compose a carefully worded message that might produce the desired effect.

  Susan didn’t really expect an answer the same day as it must have been late in the evening in Hong Kong, but only minutes later an enthusiastic email popped up in her mailbox:

  Dearest Susan, you are both welcome to stay in my humble abode. You’re saving me from disaster – now I can tell my daunting aunt that there’s no space to accommodate her and snoring Uncle Bob after Christmas. Let’s throw a Christmas party and if your friend Amanda is only half as attractive as you describe her, she can move in right away . I’m really excited to have you with me. By the way, I do promise to burn Neil’s books. Let’s make a true social animal out of my pal for a change. Let me know when to pick you up at the airport. Cheers and very excited to see you soon! Geoffrey

  ‘See!’ Susan was triumphant. ‘Geoffrey sounds like a truly nice bloke and if you still think my asking to stay with him was imposing, you were totally wrong.’

  ‘What did you tell him about Amanda?’ Neil frowned.

  ‘Not too much actually,’ Susan answered, ‘but I explained that we’d like to have her around for Christmas and I think I did mention that she’s quite attractive and single…’