Hungry Ghost (44 page)

It wasn’t quite light when Rick Feinberg returned to the Victoria Hotel, humming to himself as he paid off his taxi and rode the lift up to his floor. He’d had no luck showing the picture of the Brit in the dozen Kowloon bars he’d visited, but he’d enjoyed himself, chatting up the hostesses and touching them up whenever they’d let him. It didn’t come close to Bangkok or Manila, they all kept their clothes on for one thing, and they were a darn sight more hard-faced, but it was still better than drinking in the States. He wondered how Edmunds had got on and thought of banging on his door and waking him up but then in an uncharacteristic gesture of friendship decided that he’d let him sleep instead. The old guy needed all the rest he could get. Feinberg couldn’t imagine why a guy as old as Edmunds, he must be fifty-five at least for fuck’s sake, was still working as a field agent. He must have got somebody back at Langley mighty pissed at him, or there must be some deep dark secret in his personal file that kept him from going any higher.

He unlocked his door and switched on the light. He’d left his curtains open and he switched the light off again and stood for a while watching the harbour. Even at such a late hour the harbour was busy, with motorized sampans chugging to and fro, a couple of large freighters, stacked high with containers, sounding their horns, a floating crane being nursed along by an ancient tug, and two American frigates bobbing silently at anchor, light bulbs outlining their superstructures.

Watching the black water made Feinberg realize how much he wanted to go to the toilet. The last time he’d taken a piss he’d felt a slight burning sensation, nothing too painful, a slight smarting, but it had been uncomfortable and he wanted to put off going through it again. He hoped it was just something he’d eaten. Please God don’t let him have the clap. Or AIDS. If those fucking whores had given him the clap he’d go back to Bangkok and give them hell. They’d asked him to wear a condom but he’d insisted on going without, told them that he didn’t wear boots when he went paddling. They hadn’t understood and they had tried several times to open a packet and slip one on him but he held one of them face down on the bed and forced himself inside her as she yelled at him in Thai. Once he’d had her the other one gave in without a struggle and when he took them both again a few hours later they didn’t even bother asking him. Now he regretted it. Not the fact that he’d taken them to bed, but the fact that he hadn’t bothered to wear protection.

Edmunds was so lucky. When he’d been screwing his way around South East Asia the worst you could get would be a dose of VD and a couple of jabs of penicillin would put paid to that. This AIDS business had taken a good deal of the fun out of fucking.

A police launch carving through the water below sounded a blaring siren and drew alongside a fishing boat in the middle of the harbour. As he watched two policemen climb from the launch into the junk he became aware of somebody standing behind him. Reflected in the window was a thin clean-shaven face, short hair and deep-set serious eyes. It was the face in the photograph. Feinberg didn’t move. There was no point.

‘You’re Howells?’ he said.

‘And you’re dead,’ said the reflection, and it smiled.

The Red Pole assisting Cheng was asleep, his head on the maps, when the phone rang. The phone had been silent for three hours and Cheng had gone upstairs to rest, to gather his strength for the coming day. Ng was also upstairs, but unlike Cheng he was wide awake, lying fully dressed on his bed. Dugan had taken an upholstered chair out of the house and was sitting in it, deep in thought. The phone made him jump as it shattered the silence.

The boy answered sleepily in Cantonese and then switched to English. He listened and then went running up the stairs, calling for Ng. Dugan walked into the house as Ng came down the stairs, rubbing his forehead. ‘The gweilo,’ he said to Dugan. The two men stood together as Ng put the receiver to his ear.

‘Who are you?’ said an English voice.

‘Thomas Ng. I am Simon Ng’s brother.’

‘I tried to speak to Mrs Ng but I was told to ring this number. Is she there?’

‘Mrs Ng is not taking any calls. You can talk to me.’

‘OK. Then listen to this. I still have the girl, and I am prepared to release her if you do exactly what I tell you. I want thirty-two ounces of gold and I want a quarter of a million US in diamonds – stones, not jewellery. I will call you tomorrow afternoon to tell you when and where you are to hand them over. Do you understand? Thirty-two ounces of gold and $250,000 in diamonds. I will phone this afternoon.’

‘I understand,’ said Ng, but before he could say anything else the line went dead.

Dugan caught some of the conversation but not all, so Ng repeated it for him.

‘What do you think?’ asked Ng.

‘Did he ask specifically for you to carry the ransom?’

‘No. But that might come next time he phones. You think he might be after me?’

‘It’s possible. We still don’t know why he killed Simon. If he asks for you to deliver it then I think we can assume he’s after you. Look, I think you should suggest that I hand over the money. There’s no way he could want to hurt me.’

Ng nodded thoughtfully. ‘I agree,’ he said. ‘It’s good of you, Patrick. It’s good of you to help.’

‘Sophie’s my niece, too,’ said Dugan.

Ng put his hand on Dugan’s shoulder. ‘You’d better get some sleep,’ he said.

‘I’m OK,’ said Dugan. ‘I’ll stay outside for a while longer.’

Ng Wai-sun appeared at the top of the stairs wearing a dark blue silk kimono and Ng went up to tell him what had happened.

Howells knocked on the door and within seconds Amy was there, a worried frown on her face.

‘Is everything all right?’ she asked as she let him in.

‘Everything’s fine,’ he said. ‘He gave me some money, but I still don’t think it’ll be enough.’

‘Does your arm hurt?’

‘It’s fine,’ he said, sitting on the sofa. ‘Can I have a cup of coffee, please?’

‘Of course,’ she said, and went to the kitchen. While she was out of the room he slipped the knife out of his sling and placed it on the floor, next to the sofa, where she was sure to find it at some point. She’d probably think it had fallen there after she’d cut the pillowcase apart. The knife was spotless now, he’d cleaned it carefully after phoning Simon Ng from Feinberg’s hotel room.

He leant back and rested his head. God, he was tired. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply, listening to Amy opening and closing cupboards and the sound of the gas hissing under the kettle. There was no doubt that he was going to need her help later on when he went to collect the ransom. But he was having second thoughts about using her contacts to get out of Hong Kong. Better to drop her as soon as possible, he decided. With US$250,000 in diamonds he’d have no trouble buying a passage on a ship, any ship. Howells knew that when he left the colony it would be vital that he left no one behind who knew where he was going – or at least that he left no one alive behind. He had no choice.

She came back into the room and handed him a yellow mug of coffee.

‘
M goy
,’ he said.

‘
M sai
,’ she replied and sat down next to him, one leg curled underneath herself so that she could face him. She rested her arms on the back of the sofa and placed her chin on them, looking up at him with wide eyes.

‘What is happening, Geoff?’ she said.

He reached across with his good arm and brushed her cheek. He had already worked out how he was going to get her to help him. He’d told her about Grey but from here on he’d have to be careful, because there was no way she’d help him if she found out that he’d kidnapped a child. He’d have to lie.

‘That man who gave me the money tonight, Jack Edmunds, is a thief. And he’s a friend of mine. He’s what they call a safe-breaker, do you understand?’

She shook her head.

‘He opens safes, sometimes in banks, sometimes in offices. He is one of the best in the world. And I’m a friend of his.’

‘You help him steal?’

‘Not steal. But I help him get rid of what he has stolen. I help him sell the things he steals. That’s why I was attacked. The man Grey thought I had some diamonds and they were going to kill me and steal them. But I didn’t have them. Jack had given them to another friend of his. This afternoon Jack wants me to collect the diamonds and to get them out of Hong Kong. It’s very dangerous, Amy, because if they find out I have the diamonds then they are likely to attack me again.’

She nodded, her brow furrowed. ‘My friend can help you leave Hong Kong.’

‘Good. I’ll be able to pay him in gold. Will that be all right?’

‘Of course. In Hong Kong gold is better than money. But how will you get gold?’

‘It was with the diamonds. Jack said I was to use it to pay for my fare. Thirty-two ounces.’

‘Wah!’ she said in surprise. ‘So much.’

‘Amy, I am going to need your help. I cannot do this on my own. I will need your help. Will you help me?’ He looked at her earnestly and gave her a half-smile, trying to look as if it was the most important thing in the world to him.

‘Of course I will help you, Geoff,’ she said. ‘What do you want me to do?’

‘Thank you,’ he said, and leant forward to kiss her softly on the lips. Her mouth opened immediately and she pressed herself against him, careful not to put pressure on his right arm. She moved her head from side to side as she kissed him on the mouth, and then she moved to kiss him above each eyebrow, the way she’d soothe a child. She looked deep into his eyes then and solemnly promised that she’d do anything he wanted, and then she kissed him again, opening her mouth wide to allow his tongue to move between her teeth and she moaned and said his name.

Howells tentatively reached for her breasts with his left hand, gently smoothing them with his palm before beginning to unbutton her blouse, slowly because he didn’t want to frighten her; he wanted this to be perfect, he wanted her to enjoy it like she’d never enjoyed it before. Because then she really would do anything for him. And because it would be her last time.

Getting the diamonds and the gold was no problem for Ng Wai-sun. The old man had some fifty taels of gold in the safe set into the floor under the wood panelling at the foot of his bed, and he could call in plenty of favours among the colony’s diamond dealers to lay his hands on $250,000 of good quality stones, especially when he was paying for them in cash. The first dealer he woke up was around at Golden Dragon Lodge half an hour later with a selection. Ng Wai-sun held them in his palm and looked at them in the early morning light.

‘What do you think?’ he asked his son.

‘I think we should use fakes rather than risk real diamonds,’ said Thomas.

‘They are a small price to pay if they get back my grandchild,’ said Ng Wai-sun.

‘It will not come to that, Father. This time we will catch the gweilo.’

‘Beware the over-confidence that comes from underestimating the enemy,’ said Ng Wai-sun, carefully pouring the diamonds from his hand into a small green velvet pouch with a draw-string at the top. He handed the bag to his son.

The two were standing at the round table, on which were lined up thirty-two small oblongs of gold bearing the imprint of the Hang Seng Bank. Thomas Ng put the gold and the diamonds into a small brown leather attaché case. He zipped up the top and passed it to Dugan, who was sitting at the opposite side of the table.

‘Be careful with it,’ he said. ‘That’s a lot of money.’

‘I’ll try not to lose it,’ said Dugan. He looked dead tired, bags under his bloodshot eyes, his clothes rumpled. He’d fallen asleep in the chair outside and had been woken up by screaming peacocks just before dawn.

Lin Wing-wah appeared at the double door wearing brown cord trousers and a green and brown camouflage jacket over a white polo neck. He’d carefully arranged his small ponytail so that it lay over the collar of his jacket.

He nodded at Ng Wai-sun. ‘Good morning, Lung Tau.’

‘Good morning, Lin Wing-wah,’ the old man answered. Thomas noticed how easily his father had slipped back into the role of Dragon Head. It was as if he had never stepped down. ‘Come in and sit down.’

When all four of them were seated, equally spaced around the table, Ng Wai-sun said: ‘There must be no mistakes today. None at all. I have lost one son to this gweilo, there must be no more deaths.’ He spoke in Cantonese, knowing that Dugan was fluent. ‘We must continue the search this morning; if we wait until this afternoon then he will have the advantage of surprise. Cheng Yuk-lin, can you relay this to the other triads and ask for their co-operation?’

‘I shall, Lung Tau.’

‘Mister Dugan has brought us valuable information. We know that the gweilo has been shot and must be receiving medical attention from somebody.’

‘We have already checked the hospitals, Father. Today we begin to question the legal and the illegal doctors,’ said Thomas Ng.

Ng Wai-sun nodded. ‘Good. Again, we must move quickly. I think we must assume that once the gweilo has the ransom he will leave Hong Kong. That brings us to the next problem. If we do not track him down before we are due to hand over the ransom, then we must decide how we handle it. At what point do we try to take him? Do we do as your brother planned to do and try to seize him when the ransom is handed over? Or do we follow him after we have given him the diamonds and we have Sophie back? Or do we simply give him the ransom and assume that he will keep his word?’

‘The gweilo did not keep his word last time,’ Cheng said slowly. ‘We must not trust him on this occasion.’

‘I agree,’ said Thomas Ng. Dugan did not know whether or not he was supposed to contribute to the discussion, but he nodded in agreement with Cheng and Ng.

‘That is also my feeling,’ said Ng Wai-sun. ‘Do we agree therefore that we try to capture the gweilo and then force him to tell us where he has Sophie?’