Mr Nice

by Howard Marks

  If all went well, I would make a couple of million dollars. If it didn’t, I still had $250,000. I felt rich. I was looking forward to a busy day.

  Early the next morning, I caught the Star Ferry and went to the Wing On building to see Armando Chung. Drinkbridge Hong Kong Limited had been incorporated. Address, telephone, telex, and secretarial services could be provided by Armando’s office staff. Suitable notepaper and business cards were immediately available for use. An account had been opened at Hong Kong & Shanghai Bank. I should present myself to them. After completing some formalities, I rented the biggest safe they had, and I took the Star Ferry back to Tsim Sha Tsui.

  Just outside the Star Ferry is the best fresh fruit-juice bar in the world. Sipping a concoction of guava juice and yoghurt, I could see the entrance of the Peninsula Hotel. April emerged with a Louis Vuitton bag. She wasn’t followed. I went into the lobby and telephoned Steve’s room. He came down with the videorecorder and joined me for a quick cup of coffee.

  Sam Tailor’s establishment is in Burlington Arcade, about half a mile from the Peninsula. Carrying the videorecorder, I took a cab there, hoping and believing I was being followed. The shop was full of Europeans being measured up for clothes. Sam was at the back and singled me out for his special attention. I paid for several suits and shirts, and asked if I could leave the videorecorder there while I did some more shopping, I walked swiftly out of the arcade and down the steps of Tsim Sha Tsui underground station. Jumping on and off trains, I took a circuitous route to Central Station to see Bill at the Mandarin. If the DEA were following the videorecorder box, they’d be completely confused. If they were following me, I’d lost them.

  Bill gave me a large red leather briefcase containing $250,000. I took it by cab to the Shangri-La and emptied the contents into my safe-deposit box. I rented a hotel limousine, went to the Park Hotel, and in three journeys took a million dollars to the Hong Kong & Shanghai Bank and placed it in the safe I’d just rented. On the third return journey, I called in to pick up the $150,000 from Bruce Aitken in Edinburgh Towers and took it to the Shangri-La safe-deposit before getting to the Park Hotel. I picked up Hobbs and the remainder of the money, $250,000 from the big suitcase. After leaving Hobbs with some generous expenses and a description of Selena, I dropped him off at the Hong Kong Registry Office and went back to the Shangri-La. After locking the money securely away, I walked to Cable and Wireless and called Malik. He’d come to Hong Kong the next day. He would stay in the Miramar Hotel. I rang Phil in Bangkok and told him I’d visit him there in seven to ten days. I rang the LAPD number. Flash put me through to Ernie, who wanted to send the remaining $450,000 as a wire transfer to a bank account. It would be sent from an impeccable source. I gave him the details of my account in Crédit Suisse at the Far East Financial Centre in Admiralty, Hong Kong. I walked back to the Shangri-La and telexed Roy Webborn of the Welsh Water Authority saying that the initial reaction to his proposal was favourable. Got to keep the front going. I rang up April and told her to bring round the Louis Vuitton bag. There was enough room in the Shangri-La safe-deposit box for another $150,000. I rang up Sam Tailor and asked him to please deliver the videorecorder and clothes to the room I’d still kept on in my name for Hobbs at the Park Hotel. I lay down on the bed, and had a joint. Everything was under control.

  I thought of Judy and the children. Now I could easily afford to fly them out here. I rang the Chelsea flat and asked if they wanted to come for a Far East holiday. They didn’t have to think about it for too long. Judy got the tickets from Balendo, who was happy to put them all on my account. He was proving a good man. Maybe I’d even invest in Hong Kong International Travel Centre. Or better still, buy a partnership and become a travel agent. It would be a fantastic front. One would have an excuse for travelling anywhere.

  April rang. She, Selena, and Hobbs were downstairs in the lobby. I went down. Hobbs and Selena were giggling. The actual marriage would take place in a month or so. April gave me the Louis Vuitton bag. I put it into the safe-deposit box.

  ‘You look tired, Marks, or maybe just stoned.’

  ‘Maybe both, April.’

  ‘You need some gall-bladder blood.’

  ‘What for?’

  ‘Very good you drink snake’s gall-bladder blood. Make you fuck all night, ahhhh! I’m joking, Marks, but it will wake you up.’

  ‘I’ve had snake’s blood before.’

  ‘Maybe, Marks, but not from gall-bladder. Gwailu never take this.’

  ‘Okay. Let’s get some.’

  At the corner of Jervois Street and Hillier Street on Hong Kong Island is a shop stuffed with bags, cages, and baskets of writhing snakes. The four of us walked in. Within seconds, April, Selena, and the snake-merchant were screaming in Cantonese at the tops of their voices. I thought they were about to attack each other, but it turned out they were arguing which snake would be most likely to wake up a gwailu. Three different snakes were pulled out of their baskets. The snake-merchant squeezed each hissing snake along its length until he reached the gall-bladder. Then he took a knife and surgically removed the gall-bladder. The three gall-bladderless snakes were tied up in a bag. The three gall-bladders were slit open, and thick, dark green blood oozed out into a waiting brandy glass. Hobbs had seen enough and left the shop. The snake-merchant then poured a large measure of expensive brandy over the green blood and shook the glass.

  ‘Drink, gwailu.’

  I drank. It tasted like cheap brandy. It cost 3,000 Hong Kong dollars.

  The snake-merchant sent the bag of mutilated snakes to the snake restaurant next door. Hobbs steadfastly refused to go inside and eat snake soup. We went somewhere else. I had a plate of larks’ tongues followed by a bowl of cockerels’ testicles. We took a cab to some anonymous club in Wan Chai and got drunk. April and Selena left for Bottoms Up. Hobbs and I went to the Country Bar in Bar City.

  ‘Jim, how would you like a three-week stag night in Bangkok?’

  ‘When do I go? Is this for another marriage?’

  ‘No. I want you to take a bag of money there. You can leave tomorrow. Book the ticket through Balendo in London; it looks better. Check into a Bangkok hotel that has safe-deposit facilities and have a good time until I get there. Don’t spend too much.’

  ‘What shall I do there, Howard?’

  ‘It’s up to you. Crawl the gutters. Get to know the place.’ Jim went back to the Park Hotel. The snakes’ blood was keeping me awake. I walked for hours along the Kowloon waterfront. Large red signs blared Kung Hei Fat Choy. It would soon be the Chinese New Year, the Year of the Rat. A variety of red dawns battled victoriously against Hong Kong’s neon chandelier, allowing skyscrapers to sprout on the surrounding hills. At Ocean Terminal, massive ocean liners dwarfed newspaper stands a few feet away. Weirdly shaped Chinese junks drifted noiselessly by, narrowly missing schools of clattering sampans. Groups of old men and women practised very early morning Tai Chi in concrete public gardens. Illegal street vendors with large, sheet-covered wheelbarrows were selling steaming, mouth-watering delicacies. Maybe Hong Kong would be a good place to live. I wondered how Judy would like it.

  Inviting as the king-size bed was, there was no point my trying to sleep in it. My mind was too active. I had two breakfasts, watched some television, and read the newspapers before taking Jim the Louis Vuitton bag of money. He was very excited to be going to Bangkok. We travelled to the airport together. Balendo had arranged for Hobbs’s ticket to be waiting for him at the Cathay Pacific desk. That guy was getting better and better.

  Malik had checked into the Miramar. We met in his room. He foresaw no problem in arranging the five-ton air-freight export.

  ‘D. H. Marks, this we can do, inshallah.’

  ‘Can you change the origin to Tokyo?’

  ‘Why not? PIA fly from Tokyo to Karachi and from Karachi to New York. We can put on in Karachi and adjust paperwork.’

  ‘What about all the other information that has to go on the air waybill?’

>   ‘Whatever is on a typewriter, we can type on air waybill. In Pakistan, this happens in all businesses, not just our mother-business.’

  ‘Can you make sure it’s really smell-proof? I once lost a load in New York because of a sniffer dog.’

  ‘I know. I know a great deal about your past. Raoul has talked to me. He is not your friend. He is not mine either. I know you have been to the Oxford University. I would like my son Yasser to go there. Maybe you can arrange? Do not worry, D. H. Marks. I have the smell-proof technique with grease and tin. Also, and this you will not believe, the Sind Narcotics Control dog handler is my good friend. Before we send shipment, we will bring him and his dogs to smell. If they don’t smell, shipment is safe, inshallah.’

  ‘Can you do it for $300 a kilo up-front and a return of 30% of the gross?’

  ‘I will need a little more up-front. The price of everything is going up. Pakistan is not Third World any more.’

  ‘Malik, you must know I don’t bargain in the mother-business. I know what it costs you: nothing. You’ll have responsibilities if things go wrong, and $1.5 million will easily cover them.’

  ‘You are right. I will do it. When will you pay deposit?’

  ‘Where do you want it?’

  ‘Most of it, say $1 million, can come here to Hong Kong. My friend works here in BCCI bank. You can give to him. At the time the shipment leaves, I need to have the rest in cash in Karachi.’

  I thought for a few seconds.

  ‘I’ll give you $500,000 here in Hong Kong before we leave. In about ten days, I’ll come to Karachi to test the product and check how things are going. If everything’s okay, I’ll come back to Hong Kong and give your BCCI friend another $500,000. When the shipment is ready to leave, I’ll give you $500,000 cash in Karachi.’

  ‘This is good plan, D. H. Marks. But let me know if you or one of your people is flying into Karachi with large amount of money. I will arrange to make sure there is no bothering on arrival. Otherwise, Customs might confiscate. I will be very glad to see you in my country. You should stay in Sheraton Hotel.’

  ‘Karachi has a Sheraton now? It used to have only the Intercontinental.’

  ‘Intercontinental is now called Pearl. Pakistan has Sheraton, Hilton, and Holiday Inn. It is good place to invest. Zia has been good for the country. When you come I will show you many money-making possibilities.’

  ‘I look forward to it, Malik. Shall we go somewhere to eat now?’

  ‘I would prefer to stay in room and order takeaway from Gaylord Pakistani restaurant. Please to join me, D. H. Marks.’

  The lack of sleep was taking its toll. A telex was waiting for me back at the Shangri-La. It was from Balendo. Hobbs was in the Montien Hotel, Bangkok. Judy and the children were arriving in Hong Kong tomorrow. Exhausted and looking forward to their visit, I fell asleep.

  The next morning, I explained to the hotel management that my wife and children were arriving. The penthouse suite was plenty big enough, and they were glad to arrange appropriate beds. I asked if they could arrange flowers, food, champagne, and little toys for the kids to be ready in the room. I rented a chauffeur-driven limousine and headed for the airport.

  The Cathay Pacific flight arrived on time. Judy looked happy and tired. Amber and Francesca looked both exhausted and excited. The chauffeur issued ice-cold facecloths from the limousine’s glove-compartment fridge as he drove to the Shangri-La. The faces of Judy and the little girls broke into rapturous and wondrous smiles as they walked into the penthouse suite and beheld the Hong Kong harbour view and the spread that awaited them. Soon a jet-lagged sleep overcame them. I sat gazing at the faces I loved.

  Malik and I went to the Hong Kong & Shanghai Bank, where I gave him $500,000 dollars. He took it to BCCI, then caught a plane back to Karachi. He had things to do. I telephoned Stephen Ng at Crédit Suisse, gave him the number of the Shangri-La, and told him to expect an overseas remittance. I went to the Park Hotel. The videorecorder box and clothes from Sam Tailor had arrived. I untidied the bed in the room and had a coffee in the lobby before going to Burlington Arcade to pay Sam.

  Judy and the children were wide awake when I got back. We took an evening boat ride around Hong Kong harbour.

  The following day we took a hydrofoil to Macao. After getting used to the sight of Chinese selling Dim Sum on the steps of a Portuguese cathedral, we took a bus into the People’s Republic of China. Mainland China had not long opened its doors, and the people seemed to be either tilling the soil or making and selling electronic goods. We were curiosities to each other.

  We did another three days of sightseeing and shopping before I had a call from Stephen Ng.

  ‘Mr Marks, we have received a remittance of $450,000 credited to your account. Your instructions, please.’

  ‘Hold on to it until I need it.’

  ‘Mr Marks, will you need to access the funds at extremely short notice?’

  ‘Maybe. I don’t know yet.’

  ‘How about I place the money in a fiduciary time-deposit with bank-guaranteed minimum yield of 6%?’

  ‘That’s fine.’

  I had no idea what he was talking about. I would need to study all this banking stuff.

  There was no longer any reason to stay in Hong Kong. ‘Who wants to come to Thailand?’ I asked.

  ‘I do,’ cried Amber and Francesca in unison. ‘I do. I want to go to Thailand.’ Judy smiled. I called Balendo.

  After stashing all the money in the Hong Kong & Shanghai Bank, checking out of both the Park and Shangri-La Hotels, and consigning the videorecorder, clothes, and other shopping to be air-freighted home to London, we flew Thai International Airlines, first-class, to Bangkok. Balendo had arranged a VIP suite at the Oriental Hotel, and one of the hotel’s limousines took us there.

  ‘Sawabdee kap. Welcome back, Khun Marks, and a special welcome to Thailand to your wife and your beautiful children. You have the VIP suite at the top of the new building. Fruit baskets, oysters on ice, and drinks have been prepared. Enjoy your stay.’

  ‘I have to go out, love. Make some phone calls. See if I can get hold of Phil. I don’t want to ring him from the hotel.’

  ‘Howard, for God’s sake, you’ve only just got here.’

  ‘I came here to see Phil.’

  ‘I thought you were bringing us here on holiday.’

  ‘Well, that too. I won’t be long.’

  ‘I’ve heard that before. I know what it’s like when you and Phil get together. I’ll see you tomorrow.’

  First I dropped in on Hobbs at the Montien Hotel.

  ‘Howard, I can never thank you enough for sending me here. Bangkok is the closest to Heaven I ever want to be.’

  ‘What do you like about it, Jim?’

  ‘The clubs, the food, the people. Everyone is so happy here. I love it.’

  ‘Is the money safe?’

  ‘Oh yes. It’s downstairs. I’ve hardly spent a penny. It’s so cheap here. This is like a luxury hotel, and it’s cheaper than a Paddington doss-house. I can’t believe it.’

  ‘Get to know any good places?’

  ‘Well, not many that you’d be interested in, Howard, but I did find one that I know you’ll want to visit. It’s called the Superstar, just up the street here in Patpong, and is full of European and American dope dealers doing business, all very openly. I’m sure you’d know some of them.’

  We walked down Patpong past the Superstar. One Night in Bangkok was blaring out. I couldn’t resist the temptation to enter. Beauties from Chiang Mai and transvestites from round the corner were on the bar counters, shagging the customers’ minds as the volume of Murray Head’s hit reached a deafening pitch:

  One night in Bangkok and the world’s your oyster

  The bars are temples but the pearls ain’t free

  You’ll find a god in every golden cloister

  And if you’re lucky then the god’s a she

  I can feel an angel sliding up to me.

  ‘Ah, fahlang. You
look so handsome. You like Superstar? How many times you been Bangkok?’

  Several girls writhed over us and between us as we sat down at a table. Jim stared gleefully at the transvestites, and I stared at the Chiang Mai beauties. In the distance I saw Mickey Williams at a table with five young bikini-clad girls. His smile showed evidence of a permanent orgasm. I walked to his table.

  ‘H, me old son. I had a feeling I’d run into you here. On my life I did. Sit down here with me lovely darlings.’

  ‘Good to see you, Mick. I haven’t thanked you properly for the loan of your flat in Palma. We had a great time. It looks like we’ll move to Mallorca to live.’

  ‘My pleasure, H. My pleasure. Missus all right, is she?’

  ‘Yes, thanks. She and the kids are here with me.’

  ‘It’s none of my business, H, but if I had a wife and kids, I wouldn’t bring them to Bangkok. I don’t think they’d like massage parlours.’ He looked across the room. ‘Hey, H. There’s that fucking nonce that was in Brixton with us on that table over there. What’s his name? Hobbs, that’s it. Hobbs. The dirty bastard.’

  ‘He’s with me, Mick.’

  ‘What! What are you doing hanging around with a nonce, H? Ain’t like you a bit.’

  ‘I’m sure he’s not a nonce, Mick. He’s just a gay who prefers teenagers to geriatrics. He doesn’t go after young kids. I mean, how old do you think that girl is, the one trying to give you a blowjob?’

  ‘Yeah, but it’s different here in Bangkok, H. You know that. It’s a different culture. It’s gotta be. And even if, like you say, he’s not a nonce, he’s just an iron, a poof, I wouldn’t trust him an inch. If he can’t keep his arse shut, how can he keep his trap shut? I don’t like him seeing me with you. Who’s he going to tell?’

  ‘Mick, he’s far less a danger than the two DEA guys sitting at the end of the bar. Besides that, you and I aren’t doing any business together at the moment, are we?’