Black Horn (5 page)

Creasy
said bluntly, "You had better stop feeling sorry for yourself, and you had
better make up your mind before we land in Brussels in a couple of hours. I
don't take orders from Mrs Manners and neither do you. But you damn well take
orders from me. If you don't like that you can fuck off." He stood up and
began to move further down the aircraft.

Michael's
voice stopped him. "Creasy. Of course I'll follow your orders. Just keep
me away from her."

Creasy
turned, looked at him and said, "Understand something, Michael. If I tell
you to kiss her ass every morning you had better do it. Or I'll get Frank
Miller or Rene Callard to replace you."

Another silence, then Michael nodded and said, "Can we make it her hand instead of her ass?"

"I'll think about it."

The shark's fin soup was the clear indicator. It is a dish which must be included
in every Chinese banquet and its quality is the benchmark for the whole meal.
If the shark's fin soup was of the top quality, it meant that the following
dishes would be of a similar excellence... and massively expensive. The very
top quality is pure top-grade fin and exorbitant. It is also somewhat slimy and
glutinous. Colin Chapman tasted it and looked across the table and bowed his
head slightly. Lucy Kwok smiled in acknowledgement and then, while he ate, she
talked.

"Since
you know so much about the Chinese and our culture, you can understand us
better than most gweilos. Perhaps you understand that in our nature, when
something bad is done to us we desire not so much justice but vengeance. You
also know that we are generally very patient people... but I am not patient. I
want vengeance against the people who murdered my family. Not only the ones who
physically hanged them, but the ones who ordered it."

A
waiter came close to the table, ready to ladle out another serving of shark's
fin soup.

Colin
Chapman said to him in Cantonese, "It was delicious and I could eat it
until the sun comes up, but I know there's much more to follow."

The
waiter's eyes widened and he slid a glance at Lucy.

She
smiled and said in the same language, "In a desert, one can find a diamond."
She looked again at Chapman and, as the waiter went away, her face turned
serious and she hammered gently on the table with her small fist, to emphasise
her words. "I want vengeance on the man who ordered it."

Equally
emphatically, Chapman answered, "The one who ordered it was Mo Lau Wong.
Of course, you know who he is."

"Yes,
I know who the bastard is. He is head of the 14K. Everyone knows who he is, but
it seems the wonderful Hong Kong police force can do nothing about it. I tell
you that if this was China, the authorities would have shot him years
ago."

The
waiter brought the next dish, which was whole ouma abalone in oyster sauce.
After he had served it and left, Chapman said, "Lucy, you have a false
impression of what goes on in China these days. The authorities there arrest
and execute low-level drug dealers, pimps and small-time thieves or embezzlers.
They don't shoot people like Tommy Mo Lau Wong."

She was
looking at him sceptically.

He
shrugged and continued, "Tommy Mo visits China frequently. He has business
interests all over the country, but particularly in Canton and in all the new
economic zones. He has a very ornate villa, five miles outside the city on the
Pearl River."

"Do
the communist authorities know about this?"

He gave
a short, cynical laugh. "Of course they know. We've given them all the
necessary information. They choose to turn a blind eye and to give him
protection. They do this for many reasons, not least for the palm money he
hands out...The new economic order has brought vast corruption to China. It's
not like twenty years ago. The other reason they protect him is because of the
situation in Hong Kong itself. Should there be difficulties between the Chinese
and British governments in the final run-up to the hand over of Hong Kong in
1997, then the Chinese government would use Tommy Mo and his twenty
thousand-odd followers in the colony as a threat against the British." He
shrugged again. "We cannot arrest him here even though we have strong
Triad laws, simply because we have no hard evidence." He laughed again,
cynically. "We cannot even get him on tax evasion charges. Ostensibly, he
lives a very simple life in a fifth floor apartment in Happy Valley. He claims
a modest income from a small rice distribution company. He is never, ever
present at the scene of a crime. But the reality is very different. Apart from
the villa in China, there is another one in Sai Kung, in the New Territories.
It's owned by a company in Taiwan, which we suspect is a front for the 14K.
That villa is a fortress, with a high stone wall all around the gardens and the
most sophisticated security system outside of Fort Knox. We suspect that it's
where the Triad initiation ceremonies take place. Tommy Mo spends a lot of time
there, but still maintains his address at the little shabby apartment in Happy
Valley. Of course, he employs the best lawyers and accountants, or at least the
Taiwanese front company does. We can't touch him."

They
had finished the ouma abalone. The waiter was not close to the table because
when they had sat down, Lucy had told him only to approach when she beckoned.
She did so now, and he brought the next dish. It was roast lung kong chicken.

Chapman
tasted it and said to her, "I have truly never eaten such a meal."

She
nodded absently. Her mind was elsewhere. She had hardly touched the delicious
food. She looked up at the Englishman again and asked, "Can you not turn
one of his followers, just like the Italian Anti-Mafia police turn some big
fish?"

"We've
been trying for years. We've offered them new identities in foreign countries
as far away as Australia or South America. I can tell you, unofficially, that I
have the authority to offer huge sums of money as a reward for information.
Lucy, the Triads may seem similar to the Mafia on the surface but, believe me,
they are very different and infinitely more dangerous."

She had
ordered a bottle of Le Montrachet. She reached for the bottle and refilled
their glasses. The waiter, standing just out of earshot, adopted a pained
expression but did not move.

She
took a sip of her wine and said, "Of course, I know about the Triads as
every Chinese does, but I bow to your superior knowledge. At that long meeting
in your office. I meant to question you then, but you were the one asking all
the questions about me and my family. I would be grateful if you would educate
me a little now, about the Triads."

"I'll
be pleased to sing for such a supper...Let's start at the very beginning."

He
talked uninterrupted for the next half hour, first explaining that the Triads
had their origins during the fifth century AD, in what was then called the
White Lotus Society, which had very strong Buddhist overtones. But it was more
than a thousand years later that the numerous Triad Societies blossomed
throughout China. They wanted to throw out the hated Manchu Ch'ing Dynasty
and restore the Ming Dynasty. Their aims were both patriotic and laudable and
they received grass-roots support. This anti-foreign patriotic posture was retained
until 1912, when Dr Sun Yat-sen formed the first Chinese Republic. Up to that
time, the vast majority of the population had viewed the Triads with respect
and vied to become members. Then the whole thing changed. Once their original
purpose had been accomplished, the Triads turned to crime, much like the Mafia
in Sicily, but on a vaster scale. Their elaborate initiation ceremonies still
retained a quasi-religious atmosphere, and even Taoism crept in. But the
ceremonies' only purpose were to terrify initiates into believing that the
Society was all-powerful and that any deviations or disclosures would be fatal,
both to mind and body. Over the next fifty years, the large Societies
fragmented. Some of the fragments withered away, while others flourished. The whole
of the colony of Hong Kong split into territories, and the different Triad
societies fought for every inch of those territories. They also branched out
into South-East Asia, where there was a sizeable Chinese population, and so
came to control crime in Singapore, Malaysia, Indonesia and the Philippines.
During the last few generations, they also spread their tentacles to Canada,
America, Europe and Australia. By 1990, they had become the most powerful
global criminal organisation. They have elaborate hand signals and coded speech
signals, not just to indicate their membership of a Triad Society, but also
their position in the hierarchy. They also entered big business: property,
construction and finance. They are known to control several Public Companies.
They are adept at bribing public officials, including the police and judiciary.
The extent of their hold on their membership is so great that a Society member
will willingly accept a suicide mission or kill himself before giving away
information. It is estimated that by the mid-twentieth century, one in six of
the Hong Kong Chinese population was affiliated to a Triad Society. The
Societies have no other purpose except the pursuit of crime and power.

Her
face was tinged with anger and sadness.

"So,
it seems that the man who ordered the murder of my family is unlikely to be
brought to justice."

He
peeled an orange and said, "If I believed there was no chance at all, then
I would resign. I have to keep a belief in the work I do. We have had successes,
and if my department were not efficient the Triads would be totally out of
control and there would be no law...But, Lucy, I have to be honest. The chances
of us arresting Tommy Mo for the murder of your family are slight. The chances
would be better if we could establish a direct contact between your late father
and Tommy Mo himself. I say that because the nature of the murders was a direct
warning to others. It's why I've had protection around you twenty-four hours a
day, and why I urge you to emigrate to a country which does not have a large
Chinese community." He noted the surprise in her eyes. "Yes, Lucy,
you would not have noticed the protection. My men are skilled and loyal... as
to the possibility of emigration, I want you to think about it carefully."

"Never!"
she said vehemently. "It would be running away."

"You
have to understand," he answered, "I can only protect you for a
limited time because I have limited resources. I would say only for another
month. I'm glad you decided to stay on at the house instead of moving to an
apartment, because it's difficult to approach that house without being
seen."

She
twirled the last of the wine in her glass, looking at it thoughtfully, and
said, "Do you have any idea of the motive? After all, my father was not in
business. What would the 14K have against a research doctor?"

"I
have no idea, but you must try to think carefully about all the conversations
that you had with your father, mother or brother over the past months. There
must be a clue somewhere."

She
nodded and said, "I will do everything I can." A smile touched her
lips. "It will mean I will have to see quite a lot of you."

He also
smiled slightly.

"I'm
afraid so. I regret imposing that burden."

Ruby
wheeled Gloria down the ramp at the side entrance of the Amigo Hotel. A stretch
limousine was waiting. It was specially adapted for wheelchairs. The chauffeur
lowered the ramp, and two minutes later, Gloria was in the back. She found
Creasy sitting in the armchair-like seat next to her. Ruby climbed into the
front seat, next to the driver, and they moved off through the busy city.

Creasy
turned and gave Gloria a careful appraisal and then nodded in approval. She was
dressed in a full-length emerald silk gown with a black shawl draped about her
shoulders. She had applied subtle make-up which softened the lines of
bitterness on her face. She did not look like the woman of confrontation with
whom Creasy had flown across the Atlantic. She soon dispelled the illusion.

"Do
you mind telling me why you left a message with Ruby that I should dress up
tonight? Who are you to tell me what to wear for a dinner in some cheap
bistro?"

Creasy
was looking at the bright lights of the city. A light rain had begun to fall.

He turned
back to her and said, "Mrs Manners, I'm not only telling you what to wear
but I'm also going to tell you how to behave tonight."

She
snorted in derision. "I need a hired hand to teach me how to behave?"

"Listen
to me, lady! I regret that you lost the husband you loved. I regret that you
lost your only child. I regret that you're doomed to live in that wheelchair
for the rest of your years. You can view me as a hired hand which, technically,
I am but, whether you like it or not, as from the moment we lifted off from
Denver Airport. I'm running this operation." She started to say something
and he held up a hand. "Mrs Manners, unless you listen to what I have to
say, and unless you do what I ask of you, I going to have this car turned around
and take you back to your hotel. And you can kiss your hired hand's ass
goodbye."

They
drove in silence for a couple of minutes, and then she said, "It will be a
waste of money."

"Why?"

"Because
I chartered that goddamn Gulfstream jet for another two weeks. Do you know how
much those things cost?"

"I
can guess."

"OK.
So I listen to what you want me to do, but I make no promises."

"You
make one promise first. You don't interrupt me with a single word until I've
finished talking."

After a
pause, she nodded. He turned in his seat to look at her.

"We
are not going to have dinner in a cheap bistro. We are going to have dinner at
the invitation of two good friends of mine. It happens that they both work in
their bistro and so that's where they have to entertain us. It also happens
that I need his advice. I need that advice because it could help me find out
who killed your daughter. So this dinner is what we call 'operational', and on an
operation, everybody involved has to be co-ordinated. That includes you. Now, having
talked to you for some hours, I realise you have the impression that you can wave
your magic wand and everybody will fall into line and lots of miracles will happen.
But sometimes your mega-bucks and your wand won't work. This dinner tonight is one
such occasion. Maxie MacDonald doesn't believe in magic wands. If he's going to help
us, he has to like you or, at least, respect you. And that goes for his wife Nicole, as well."