Fortune

by Ian Hamilton

  “Are you from Tai Wai New Village?”

  The man hesitated. “Answer,” Sonny said, tapping him on the side of the head with his shoe.

  “We are,” the man mumbled.

  “Did Wu send you?”

  The man nodded.

  “Were your instructions to kill me?”

  “Yes.”

  “What’s your name?”

  “Kwan.”

  “And his?” Uncle asked, pointing to the other bleeding man.

  “Kwan. He’s my brother.”

  “That’s all I want to know,” Uncle said.

  Sonny pulled back his foot. Uncle sensed that he was about to kick the man in the head. “Don’t,” he said. “It’s over.”

  “An ambulance will be here in about ten minutes,” the cook said from the restaurant doorway.

  “My friend and I are going upstairs to my apartment,” said Uncle. “When the ambulance gets here, I want you to tell them you have no idea what happened. You heard a commotion, and when you came outside, you found these men in this condition. Tell them and the police, if they get involved, that you don’t think these men are from Fanling. Say they’ve been hanging around the neighbourhood for a few days, and you were concerned about what they were up to.”

  “We’ll do that, Uncle,” the cook said.

  Uncle looked at Sonny’s bloody arm. “How is it? I have iodine and some bandages in the apartment. Will those do until we can get you proper treatment?”

  “It looks worse than it is; he didn’t hit bone. I’ve dealt with this kind of injury before.”

  “Still, we’ll get you to a doctor after the ambulance is gone.”

  “I guess this means we won’t be going to Sha Tin,” Sonny said.

  “Just the opposite. Now I have more reason than ever to go.”

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Uncle took Sonny into his bathroom, showed him the iodine and bandages, and then went into the living room to make some calls. Before he’d finished dialling the first number he heard a siren. He went to the window and watched attendants load the two men into an ambulance. The one who’d been struck in the neck wasn’t moving. When the ambulance left, Uncle picked up the phone and called Wang.

  “If you’re calling to ask if everything is quiet, it is,” Wang answered. “You and Fong can enjoy your day at Sha Tin.”

  “Except it isn’t quiet. In fact, it’s the furthest thing from quiet,” Uncle said. “Three of Wu’s goons just tried to kill me. They ambushed me with machetes in front of my apartment building.”

  “Oh, fuck. Are you okay? Where are you now?”

  “I’m in my apartment and I am okay. They’re not — Sonny Kwok took care of them. Two of them are brothers; their family name is Kwan. One may die and the other will need medical attention. The third ran off,” Uncle said. “And Wang, about five minutes before it happened, I was beginning to question whether having a bodyguard was worth the trouble. There are no questions now. Kwok was incredible. I’d be dead without him.”

  “Thank god you weren’t hurt,” Wang said, and then paused. “What are we going to do? How should we respond to this? Do you want us to go after Wu?”

  “No,” Uncle said sharply. “And that’s an order, so don’t give it another thought.”

  “Then what do you have in mind?”

  “I’ll phone Fong when you and I are finished. I want the two of you to spend the afternoon calling your peers in the Territories, Kowloon, and Hong Kong Island. They need to know what happened. I want to isolate Wu from the gangs in the Territories and give the others pause if they’re thinking of siding with him. After this, even Man might have doubts about supporting Wu.”

  “Is that all you want us to do? Uncle, I don’t disagree with you very often, but that’s a weak response.”

  “We’ll respond more forcefully later. I don’t want to rush into it. I want to take time to think about what could inflict maximum damage to the well-being of Wu’s gang, and then plan accordingly.”

  “He makes most of his money from drugs,” Wang said quickly. “He must have a central warehouse or a distribution centre.”

  “You’re right about their dependence on drug money,” Uncle said. “Locate their warehouse and then find out everything you can about it. It might be what we need to send a message.”

  “I’m on it.”

  “But make those phone calls first.”

  “Yes, boss,” Wang said. “What about the rest of the day? Do you think Wu will try anything else? Maybe we should leave the betting shops closed.”

  “Do you have all our men on the streets?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then we should be all right. Besides, after botching the attack on me, I can’t imagine the Tai Wai gang will be keen to try anything else for a while.”

  “You’re probably correct, but we’ll keep our men on full alert.”

  “One last thing. Sonny was struck on the arm by a machete. He says he’s fine, but I want him to see a doctor. After he drives me to the racetrack, I’ll send him to you.”

  “Tell him to come to Dong’s Kitchen. He’ll be well looked after.”

  As Uncle ended the call, he started shivering. During the attack he’d been calm, an adrenalin rush cancelling out any fear. Now the adrenalin was ebbing, and the realization that he could have been killed had kicked in.

  “Are you okay, boss?” Sonny said from the bathroom doorway.

  “It’s been a long time since I was a party to anything that violent. It shook me a bit.”

  “I couldn’t tell. You looked cool enough to me.”

  “Never mind about that, how is your arm?” Uncle asked.

  “It’ll be sore for a few days at least, but it’s only a flesh wound. The iodine should do the trick.”

  “I’ve spoken to Wang. Meet him at Dong’s after dropping me off at the racetrack. He’ll make arrangements for you to see a doctor,” Uncle said. “I insist that you see one, so don’t argue with me.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “I have another phone call to make. Why don’t you go downstairs and see what’s going on. I’ll join you when I’m finished and then we’ll head to Sha Tin.”

  Uncle waited until Sonny was in the stairway before he phoned Fong. His old friend’s reaction to what had happened was more extreme than Wang’s. It took a few minutes before he finally ran out of swear words, curses, and threats — all of them delivered in raging anger. When Fong was finally ready to listen, Uncle gave him the same instructions he’d given Wang. Then he added, “I think Wu has thrown away whatever advantage he thought he’d achieved with the incident at the night market. We are now the injured party, and we have to press that fact home. If he had killed me, he might have been able to plead ignorance and convince at least some of the gangs to support him. But we know the names of the men he sent, and there will be no denying that. Their failure is going to tar his reputation. We have to capitalize on that.”

  “How are we going to retaliate?” Fong asked.

  Uncle repeated what he and Wang had discussed.

  “I would rather we killed the fucker,” Fong said.

  “I’m not going down that road. Nothing good would come from it,” Uncle said. “I want you to make it clear that that option is off the table. Wu may choose to be dishonourable and break one of our most important unwritten rules, but we aren’t going to do anything that reckless or disgraceful.”

  “I’ll be asked what we’re going to do. If we want to maintain the respect of the other gangs, they’ll have to believe we’re going to do something. How much can I tell them?”

  “All you should say is that we’re thinking about how best to respond to the attack, and that they’ll find out in good time what we’ve decided.”

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  When Uncle entered the Racing Club a
t Sha Tin Racecourse, he expected to see Tse and Sammy Wing. But as he walked towards their regular table, he saw another man sitting with them. His back was to Uncle, but the silver hair that reached to his shoulders made him instantly recognizable.

  “Zhao, this is a surprise,” Uncle said. “When was the last time you left Kowloon for the fresh air of the New Territories?”

  “And I’m surprised to see you,” the other Mountain Master said as he stood to greet Uncle. “Tse predicted you would come today, but I didn’t entirely believe him.”

  “Your men have been busy spreading the word,” Sammy Wing said. “Is it true? Did Wu’s men try to kill you?”

  “That was my morning adventure,” Uncle said. “And in case anyone doubts that Wu was behind it, I questioned one of the men and he admitted it. His name is Kwan. He and his brother were two of the three men who attacked me. I think the brother died, and Kwan knew he’d be dead too if he lied to me.”

  “I tried to call to see how you were,” Tse said.

  “I wasn’t answering the phone,” said Uncle. “I wanted time to think.”

  “I told Zhao I didn’t believe you’d overreact, regardless of the provocation,” Tse said.

  “I wonder if Wu has any idea how much damage he’s done to his organization with that move,” Zhao said, retaking his seat. “A lot of gangs will steer clear of him now. His businesses are going to take a hit.”

  Uncle sat down and looked at the track, where the horses for the first race were on post parade. “I hope that’s true,” he said.

  “What is it between you and Wu?” Sammy Wing asked. “You’ve been going at each other for as many years as I can remember.”

  “He wants to sell drugs in Fanling and I won’t let him. He tried to extort money from local Fanling businesses, and I put a stop to it. He resents that I control a large piece of the knock-off market and he has to buy the products from me. He has asked me many times to use my police contacts to help some of his men who were in trouble with the law. I refused because the trouble was drug-related, and one reason I’ve been able to maintain my contacts is that we avoid anything to do with drugs.”

  Tse looked at Wing. “Wu has no respect for anyone who doesn’t want to do business his way.”

  Zhao had been listening carefully but now turned his attention to the racing form. “I’m told you are an expert handicapper. Which do you like in the first race?” he asked Uncle.

  “The seven horse,” Uncle said.

  “Thanks. I think I’ll place a bet on it,” Zhao said.

  “I’ll go with you,” said Wing.

  “You aren’t betting on this race?” Tse asked when the other two men had left.

  “I placed my bet on the way in,” Uncle said, then leaned towards Tse. “What’s Zhao doing here?”

  “He’s weighing his options.”

  “That’s not telling me much.”

  Tse shrugged. “It should come from him.”

  “I’m hoping that someone who’s been my friend for as long as you have can at least give me a hint.”

  “He’s in a difficult position,” Tse said carefully. “He doesn’t agree with what Man and the others want to do, but he has to share Kowloon with them. If he isn’t with them, they might decide he’s against them. It would be three against one, unless of course Zhao had the support of other gangs.”

  “What other gangs? You told me the Hong Kong Island triads want nothing to do with Kowloon.”

  “That’s true, but Zhao has heard about the coalition you’re trying to put together in the New Territories. I think he’s wondering if joining it might provide him the protection he needs.”

  “There’s no coalition yet,” Uncle said.

  “But assuming there was, is there a reason it couldn’t include Zhao? At least part of his turf borders on the New Territories.”

  “It’s certainly something worth thinking about,” Uncle said. He saw Wing and Zhao returning. “We should talk more about it later.”

  “It isn’t me you should be talking to,” Tse said. “And some advice: let Zhao raise the subject with you.”

  Zhao and Wing rejoined the table and everyone’s attention turned to the start of the race. Two minutes later, the number-seven horse had won. Zhao celebrated by buying a round of drinks, and as the afternoon passed, the drinks continued to flow. The other men ate but Uncle declined. The gang members in Fanling knew about the attack by then and knew he was well, but a visit to Dong’s Kitchen would be proof that nothing had changed.

  It was a moderately successful betting day for Uncle, and for Zhao, who bet on all the same horses. Sammy Wing was having a bad day and grumbled incessantly about poor jockeys and bad luck. After the sixth race he expanded his complaints. “What a shit week this has been,” he said. “Did the rest of you get raided?”

  “From what I’ve heard, I think we all did,” Tse said.

  “I lost more than a million dollars in goods,” Wing said. “I can only imagine how much worse it might get when the Communists take over.”

  “Are you buying Man’s argument that they’ll attack us after the handover?” Uncle asked.

  “It makes sense after the way they treated us in China.”

  “Except we’re back in China now and they’ve left us alone,” Tse said.

  “You’re only in the SEZs and Shanghai, where you are paying government officials to leave you alone. You know that kind of bribery doesn’t work in Hong Kong.”

  “Sammy, I’ve been told by a senior Chinese government official that the police system in place now will be left alone,” Uncle said. “The PLA and the Ministry of Public Security won’t interfere. Man’s argument is bullshit.”

  “What’s the name of this senior official?” Wing asked.

  “I can’t tell you his name.”

  “Of course you can’t. He probably doesn’t exist,” Wing said with a dismissive wave of his hand.

  “Hey, you’re my guest here,” Tse said sharply. “I always take Uncle at his word, and unless you can prove otherwise, I think you should as well.”

  “It’s okay, I’m not offended,” Uncle said to Tse, and then looked at Wing. “Let me ask you something, Sammy. If I could provide proof positive that the Chinese won’t interfere, would you have the guts to tell Man he’s wrong and that you don’t support his expansionist ideas?”

  “I’ve never said I support them.”

  “You also haven’t said you don’t, and you’ve been reluctant to criticize Yin’s activities in Macau. People might conclude that you’re onside with Man.”

  “The only thing I care about is my gang’s best interests,” Wing said. “If you forced me to choose between what Man wants to do and keeping the status quo, I’d find it hard. You could say I’m waiting to see which direction the train is going before I hop on board.”

  “That’s fair enough, but if I provided proof positive, would you hop on our train?”

  “Maybe,” Wing said.

  Uncle smiled. “I have to respect your consistent commitment to your own self-interest above anything else.”

  “None of you are any different,” Wing said.

  “Enough. You’re giving me a headache,” Tse said. “We’re at the races. Let’s enjoy them.”

  “I can’t stay,” Uncle said suddenly. “I have a driver now and he’ll be at the pickup point in a few minutes.”

  “This is unusual — there are two races left. You aren’t leaving because of Sammy, are you?” Tse asked.

  “No, I meant it when I said I wasn’t offended. I want to beat the crowds after the eighth race and I don’t want to keep the driver waiting. He’s also my bodyguard, and he saved my life this morning,” said Uncle. “I figure the least I can do for him is be punctual.”

  “I’ll walk you out,” Zhao said.

  They left the club to
gether. Uncle noticed several women eyeing the silver-haired Kowloon Mountain Master. He was tall, graceful, and always dressed impeccably in the finest luxury brands.

  Zhao waited until they were on the escalator down to the ground floor before he spoke. “I heard about your meeting with the other Mountain Masters,” he said. “My friend Ng had some very positive things to say about it.”

  “Ng has been supportive of some of my ideas. I am tremendously grateful for that.”

  “Ng, like you, is a thoughtful man,” Zhao said. “Do your thoughts lead you to believe you can convince the others to form a real coalition?”

  “What do you mean by real?” asked Uncle.

  “My experience with triads is that they’ll agree to anything that has potential benefit, as long as it doesn’t require a commitment or incur a cost,” Zhao said. “The problem has often been that when they’re called on to make any kind of sacrifice, they renege on the agreement. Our friend Sammy Wing is a fine example of that kind of thinking. You described him perfectly when you said his only commitment is to his own self-interest.”

  “Self-interest is a powerful motivator. If I have to appeal to that to get the gangs to coalesce, I will,” said Uncle. “But you’re correct that the possibility of gangs reneging is real. I have some proposals to put forward that might make that less attractive.”

  “Such as?”

  Uncle laughed. “I think I should save that for next Friday, when I meet with the group again.”

  They were on the main floor and working their way through the milling crowds. Hong Kong racegoers tended to arrive early, many of them as soon as the gates opened two hours before race time, and didn’t leave until the last race had been run and the results posted.

  When they reached the main gates, Zhao stepped to one side and came to a stop. “I have something to ask that you might find odd,” he said to Uncle.

  “Go ahead.”

  “I would like to attend your meeting next Friday, but I won’t do so unless I’m invited and I’m welcome.”

  “Then consider yourself invited, and be assured you will be welcome,” said Uncle.