Fortune

by Ian Hamilton

  “Wei,” Zhang said.

  “It’s Uncle. Did you hear about what happened in Tsuen Wan today?”

  “I did, and I’m not pleased with how the detachment office handled things.”

  “I saw no police,” said Uncle.

  “Precisely, and that’s the problem. It’s a small detachment, but that doesn’t excuse the fact that they ignored multiple calls from shop owners asking them to intervene when the town was invaded by triads.”

  “I was wondering why they didn’t show up,” Uncle said. “But before you say anything else, let me explain why today could be a very good thing.”

  “I have no idea how that’s possible, but I will listen. Do yourself a favour, though, and don’t stretch the truth. I’m not in a mood to play games.”

  “Thank you, I won’t,” Uncle said, taking a few seconds to gather his thoughts. “You know how aggressive Man and some of the Kowloon gangs have been. What happened today was the latest manifestation of that aggression. Sixty of Man’s crew descended on Tsuen Wan. The triad gang there is one of our smallest, and I guess Man thought they’d be easy to pick off. Instead, the Kowloon men found themselves confronting more than a hundred from Tsuen Wan, Fanling, Mai Po, and Sai Kung. In other words, the four gangs united to fend off Man. I can’t begin to tell you how significant that is.”

  “I think you should begin to tell me. In fact, I insist that you tell me.”

  “I mentioned to you before that I’ve been working on a plan to bring peace to the Territories.”

  “You did, but you neglected to give me any details, and I’m hard pressed to understand how a pitched battle in Tsuen Wan can be described as peaceful.”

  “It was a skirmish, not a battle.”

  “Not according to some civilian witnesses — but I’ll let that go.”

  “The point is, I’ve been trying to convince all the gangs in the New Territories to form a defensive alliance. None of us are large enough on our own to fend off the big Kowloon or Hong Kong gangs, but together we’re far more than they could handle. Simply put, I’m trying to get the other gangs to buy into the idea that if you attack one of us, you’ll have to take on all of us. Today was the first physical manifestation of that idea.”

  “You said four gangs put up men to ward off Man. There are ten gangs in the Territories, and that includes Wu’s. I can’t imagine he’ll be joining what you’re proposing, but where were the other five?” Zhang asked.

  “We didn’t ask them to help today. But everyone I asked came.”

  “Do you think you can get the others to buy into your idea?”

  “Yes,” Uncle said with a certainty that surprised him. “By Friday it will be done. And once it is, there will be peace. All the nonsense that’s been going on between the gangs will be over.”

  “Maybe the gangs here won’t be sniping at each other, but you still have the triads in Kowloon and Hong Kong Island to contend with.”

  How far can I go? How sure am I that I’m right? Uncle thought. Then he said, “What the hell.”

  “What the hell?”

  “Sorry. I was debating whether I should tell you what I’m certain will happen or what I believe might happen. Under the circumstances, I’m going to go out on a limb,” said Uncle. “I know that not all the Kowloon gangs share Man’s expansionist views. In fact, I think one of them is considering joining our alliance. Similarly, I think there may be two gangs on the Island that can be persuaded to join. If I can pull that off, there isn’t a gang or any combination of gangs not in the alliance that could be a threat to us. They’d be left to squabble among themselves.”

  “And you believe you can achieve this by Friday?”

  “There are specifics that need to be worked out, but I’m confident I’ll have an agreement in principle that encompasses as many as twelve gangs.”

  “And between now and then, what am I supposed to do? That was a disgrace today in Tsuen Wan. It made us look like we have no control over triad activity in the Territories. I’ve been called to Hong Kong tomorrow, and I know it isn’t to exchange pleasantries.”

  “I need three days. Give me until Friday night.”

  Zhang sighed. “If I do, you need to be completely honest with me after your meeting. I can’t accept the possibility of another Tsuen Wan.”

  “You will know precisely how things stand. You’ll know who’s in and who’s not.”

  “I don’t doubt you’ll tell me what you think is true, but this time, Uncle, I also need you to tell me about all the potential problems, even if they seem far-fetched. I can’t afford surprises.”

  “I’ll share with you every thought I have,” said Uncle.

  “Okay, I’ll let things stand as they are until Friday night. But I’m going to have to tell my superiors there’s a plan in the works to bring a complete end to the current hostilities.”

  “What if they ask for details?”

  “I have to be credible, but I’ll tell them as little as possible,” Zhang said.

  “You know I trust your judgement,” Uncle said. “You’ll hear from me Friday night.”

  Uncle felt his body sag as he put down the phone. He hadn’t realized how tense he’d been. The business with Man and Wu had tested his relationship with Zhang as it hadn’t been tested in years. He went to the fridge for another San Miguel and drained half the bottle in several large swigs. I shouldn’t have told him I’d get twelve gangs to join. That was rash, he thought suddenly. I’m always telling my men to underpromise and overdeliver, but Zhang had to hear that I’m confident. I hope it doesn’t backfire on me.

  He went back to the phone and called Chow.

  “Uncle, it’s good to hear from you.”

  “Are things still quiet in Tsuen Wan?”

  “They are, thanks to you.”

  “Thanks should be extended in equal measure to Ng and Tan. They contributed as much as Fanling.”

  “I’ve spoken to both of them already to express my gratitude.”

  “I know we agreed to leave ten men each with you, but if you need more, don’t hesitate to ask,” said Uncle.

  “I know. Your Red Pole told Song. Thanks for that also.”

  “The four Red Poles seemed to work very well together.”

  “They did. And Uncle, I know I’ve been skeptical about this alliance of yours, but after seeing it in action today, I’m impressed,” Chow said. “You can consider Tsuen Wan part of it now.”

  “I told you there were no strings attached to our help.”

  “I know, but we’re still in. We’ll stand with you and the others.”

  “I’m pleased to hear it,” Uncle said. “Will you make that announcement at the meeting on Friday?”

  “I’ll do more than that. I’m going to call the Mountain Masters I’m closest to and encourage those who haven’t already committed to do so.”

  “That would be very helpful. Thanks, Chow. Hopefully things will stay peaceful in Tsuen Wan and we won’t have to talk again until Friday.”

  Uncle’s optimism ticked upwards after speaking to Chow. Twenty minutes later, after he’d spoken to Ching in Yeun Long and He in Sha Tin, it had risen even further. They told him they had been leaning towards joining the alliance, but now they too were ready to commit.

  Maybe I wasn’t too rash with Zhang after all, Uncle thought as he headed for bed.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  Shenzhen had played a special role in Uncle’s life. As he boarded the train with Fong on Wednesday afternoon for the ten-kilometre trip, memories came flooding back.

  It was from Shenzhen that he and his friends had swum to Hong Kong in 1959. It was then a small, nondescript town with a population of thirty thousand who worked mainly in agriculture and fishing. Uncle hadn’t taken much notice of the place except for the town square, which when darkness fell had become cro
wded with throngs of people carrying homemade flotation devices. They were making their way to Mirs or Shenzhen Bay to attempt the four-kilometre swim to freedom. On many nights thousands of people slid into the treacherous waters, but only about half of them made it to Hong Kong.

  Uncle hadn’t returned to Shenzhen until 1981, by which time it had been designated a special economic zone. The SEZs were Deng Xiaoping’s vehicle to modernize and grow Chinese industry, opening a door to the West that Uncle had stepped through. He recognized the opportunity presented by the SEZs and had invested Fanling money to upgrade Ming’s existing garment factory. Over the next few years his gang financed the construction of a second factory and fell into the warehouse business with the Liu family. By then Shenzhen had a population that exceeded a hundred thousand, and its old agricultural base had been replaced by sprawling industry. Now the city was the source of most of the Fanling gang’s income.

  “What’s the population of Shenzhen these days?” Uncle asked Fong.

  “About three million, I think, but it could be more than that. It grows so damn fast it’s hard to keep track.”

  “I was thinking about the first time we came here to meet Ming. He had that beat-up old Toyota, he was wearing a stained Mao jacket, and some of his teeth were missing.”

  “And now he owns a high-end BMW — with driver — and dresses like he’s the president of a bank,” Fong said. “But he’s still quick to acknowledge that he wouldn’t be enjoying the life he has now without us.”

  “He’s been a good partner.”

  “Yeah, he has. I don’t think he’s ever lied to me, and I’ve never found anything to suggest he might be trying to cheat us. He has completely honoured our agreement, which isn’t always the case with deals between foreign investors and their Chinese partners. I hear stories all the time about foreigners getting fucked over as soon the locals figure they can go it alone.”

  “What do you think of his plan for a third factory?” Uncle asked.

  “It is ambitious. It would double our current production capacity. I don’t think we’ll be able to use all that capacity right away, but if we push the sales hard enough, we’ll get there eventually.”

  “I went over our money situation this morning with Hui. We’re in great shape. I don’t think we’ll have any problem approving a third factory,” said Uncle.

  “I’m surprised you found time to look at the numbers. You seemed to be on the phone all morning.”

  “It was a memorable morning,” Uncle said. “I spoke to every Mountain Master in the Territories — except for Wu, of course. Yesterday’s events in Tsuen Wan had more of an impact than I expected. First there was the fact that Man made a move on Tsuen Wan. I think some of our colleagues thought I was exaggerating his ambition, but he put that to rest. Next, four gangs came together and routed his men. That proved we have the will and the manpower. The question I posed to the Mountain Masters was ‘If all of us are prepared to stand together, who is there for us to fear?’”

  “No one,” Fong said.

  “That may be true in the world of the triads, but not in the outside world. We mustn’t get cocky or careless; we can’t give the Hong Kong police or the Chinese government a reason to come after us. Even collectively, we’d be like a bug under their boot.”

  “Did anyone disagree with you?”

  “No. They listened, but not many of them care about the outside world. Their focus is on the Heaven and Earth Society and their position within it,” Uncle said. Then he smiled. “Fong, I’m happy to tell you that all nine gangs have declared their intention to join the alliance. You’re the first person I’ve told.”

  Fong looked astonished, then bowed his head. “Uncle, I’m honoured you are sharing this with me. That’s terrific news.”

  “There are still some things to sort out, but we’ve made a strong start to bringing everyone together.”

  A sign beside the track indicated they were nearing their destination, Lo Wu Station, in the southern part of the city. “Before we reach the station, can I ask you to do me a favour when we meet Ming?” Fong asked.

  “Of course.”

  “When he meets us at the station, don’t tell Ming you’re going to approve the plan. He’s been working on it for ages and has been desperate to present it to you. I’m the one who’s been holding him off, so let him present it and then make him wait before you give him an answer. It will seem like more of an accomplishment for him that way.”

  “That’s thoughtful of you,” Uncle said.

  “I know Ming well, that’s all.”

  The train came to a stop at the station. To neither Fong’s nor Uncle’s surprise, a stampede of disembarking passengers raced towards the customs and immigration booths. The two of them waited until the worst of the rush was over before leaving the car and walking to the end of the line. The station was almost ninety years old but had undergone several major renovations to accommodate the increased traffic. Fong looked at the queues and said, “Ten minutes.”

  Twelve minutes later they exited Lo Wu to find Ming, wearing a double-breasted pinstriped blue suit, standing near his gold-coloured BMW.

  “It was good of you to meet us, Ming. We could have taken a taxi to the factory,” Uncle said.

  “Have you ever come to Shenzhen when I haven’t been here to greet you?” Ming asked.

  “Now that you mention it, I can’t remember when you weren’t,” Uncle said.

  “I think of it as a tradition — and, more importantly, as a portent of good luck.”

  “You assume I’m going to approve your plan.”

  Ming glanced at Fong. “No, I’m just pleased that you’re prepared to listen. Fong explained that you’re in Shenzhen for other reasons. I appreciate that you’re making time for me.”

  “Let’s go to the factory, and let’s not talk about the plan until we get there, so you can present it properly,” Fong said.

  Ming sat in front with his driver but kept looking back at Uncle as the BMW left the city centre.

  “Fong and I were talking on the train about our first trip here,” Uncle said to him. “You had that old Toyota.”

  “How things have changed,” Ming said. “If you remember, to get to my old factory we had to drive into the countryside, along narrow roads that were full of potholes. Now we have six-lane highways and there isn’t a patch of land left to build on between the train station and our factories.”

  “When will all this development come to an end?” Uncle asked.

  “I was at an SEZ meeting last week with about fifty other company heads. The meeting was called to encourage us to keep investing. The SEZ is projecting that the city will have a population of ten million in ten years. That should be great for our business.”

  “Ming, I asked you to wait to talk about your plan until we’re at the factory. I sense that you’re starting already,” Fong said.

  It had been some time since Uncle had visited the Shenzhen factories, and on his previous trip there were still a few acres of farmland nearby. Now there were none, and as the BMW turned into the road leading to the factories, Uncle saw another change. Instead of bicycles, the courtyard in front of the buildings was filled with cars and scooters. There were also four buses used to transport workers back and forth to various parts of the city. Ming had managed to keep his workforce intact and had made a point of hiring local people, so, unlike many of the neighbouring factories, he didn’t need dormitories.

  As they came to a stop outside the main office, the front door opened and the senior staff filed out to form a line. Ming introduced each of them to Uncle, a ritual that was repeated at every visit he made. So was the invitation issued when he reached the man at the end of the line.

  “Sir, can we take you on a tour of our facilities? We are producing a new line of polo shirts, and we have been experimenting with sports caps for the North
American market,” the man said.

  Uncle knew the man was the head of production. “I would love a tour,” he said.

  The tour took half an hour. When it ended, Uncle and Fong accompanied Ming to his office and took seats around a small conference table. “As always, I’m impressed with the efficiency of your operation,” Uncle said to Ming.

  The three men were the only people at the table. Uncle expected that, during the course of the meeting, others would be invited to expand on any financial or marketing questions that might arise. Ming had built a competent management team and wasn’t afraid to delegate — a trait that Uncle shared.

  “So tell me, why should we build Ming Garment Factory Number Three?” Uncle asked to start the conversation.

  Ming picked up three thick binders from the credenza next to the table. “It’s all in here,” he said.

  Two hours and several briefings later, Uncle closed his binder and nodded at Ming. “That was an excellent presentation.”

  “I particularly like the idea of dedicating a large part of the new factory to the production of sports jerseys and caps. The profit margins on those are enormous,” Fong said.

  “What do you think, Uncle? Do we have your approval to proceed?” Ming asked.

  “I think you’ve made a strong case, but it’s going to require a lot of money, so I need to run the idea past my executive committee. I’d also like my White Paper Fan to go over your projections,” Uncle said carefully.

  When Uncle saw Ming’s face fall, he turned to Fong. “Give your binder to Hui and tell him to read it over the weekend. We’ll schedule a committee meeting for Monday,” he said.

  “So I can expect an answer on Monday?” Ming asked.

  “Yes.”

  Ming smiled. “I appreciate that you’re going to decide quickly, but it will make for an anxious weekend.”

  “My weekend is going to be anxious as well, but for a different reason,” Uncle said, and then looked at his watch. “Fong and I have to be at the Pearl Boat Restaurant for six o’clock. What time should we leave here?”