Lights Out (8 page)

AUGUST 8: 1:00pm

Officer Chow was sitting at his desk carefully going over the case
files that Lam had placed on his desk before lunch. He was supposed to go
through every one in fine detail to see whether they had missed anything, any
detail, no matter how small. He had
read and re read the files, but there was nothing. He could sense that she was
under pressure. She was generally very non-communicative at the best of times,
but when she was under pressure from the Chief, she became snappy and irritable
and it was normally down to him to bear the full brunt of it. Finally, to his
relief, she had gone for a run to clear her head and would only come back to
the station later in the day.

So far he didn’t feel that he had been much help to Lam. He was
desperate to be given a meaty case, and to be the one to solve it. He wanted to
get the pat on the back from the Chief and earn respect from Lam. If he had
that chance to prove himself and he did a good job, then Lam would at least
ease up on him a bit.

He liked her and respected her, but she was so tough on him. Always
barking instructions, or freezing him out whilst she went off to investigate
something herself, leaving him deskbound with a list of things to do. It wasn’t
quite how he had imagined it to be when he’d been assigned to her.

His wife couldn’t understand why he put up with it all. She asked him
time and again to ask to be moved. But he found himself always defending her,
telling his wife that he would learn from the best and then he would gain
respect among his colleagues. If he gave in and transferred to another
department, then he would lose face. That would be a worse fate for him than to
stick it out with Lam.

Before accepting his new post, he had listened to all of the stories
about her past, but thought that his colleagues were prone to exaggeration,
just trying to make him feel nervous. But now that he had worked with her for
six months, he could see that they were all right about her. No one volunteered
to be placed with Lam.

A Police Office interrupted Chow’s reverie. “Chow, I’ve got a man at
reception asking for Lam. Apparently it’s to do with the Bank case, but
refusing to talk to anyone but her. Any chance you could try and talk to him? I
think he’s planning on waiting here indefinitely.”

Chow was on his feet and heading to the door before the Officer could
even finish his sentence. This was the break that he needed.

When he got to reception a young slim Chinese man, in an ill-fitting
suit and tie, sat uncomfortably on a chair. Hunched over with his head in his
hands, he looked as though he’d been crying.

Chow walked over the chair and gentled placed his hand on the man’s
shoulder.

‘Excuse me Sir?’ he said quietly. ‘I believe you are here in
reference to the Bank incident?”

The young man looked up at Chow. He looked tired with dark circles
under his eyes. Chow estimated that he was around nineteen or twenty years old.

“Where’s Inspector Lam’, his voice cracked. “I thought I was going to
see her?’

‘Inspector Lam is out for the rest of the day, but I’m her partner,
I’m working on this case with Inspector Lam. I can help you.” Chow stated

The young man started to shake his head, ‘No, no, it’s OK, I –
I can wait.” He said and placed his hands gently on his knees.

‘It’s OK’ Chow tried again. “I am here to help you.”

They both remained silent for a few seconds, the young man considered
his options, torn between waiting and getting something off his chest.

Eventually he looked at Chow with a resigned face.

‘OK” he said simply. ‘But only you, I’ll only talk to you.”

Chow nodded and spoke to the reception Officer. A few moments later
he had ushered the young man through the side door and into the nearest
interview room.

Chow left him sitting on a chair in the interview room with his hands
resting on the table. He stepped outside the room and went next door to gather
himself, trying to retain his excitement.

He observed him through the two-way mirror for a moment. The young
man sat very still, his hands resting calmly on the tabletop, but it didn’t
mask the frightened look in his face.
He
is upset about something
, Chow thought,
or
someone
. Once Chow had composed himself and mentally prepared his
questions, he went back into the room.

The young man shifted uncomfortably in his seat when Chow sat down
opposite him.

‘You don’t have to be nervous here’, Chow smiled kindly, trying to
put the young man at ease.

Without looking at Chow, the young man started to talk. His voice was
quiet, like a whisper and Chow had to lean in to hear what he was saying.

“My name is Stephen Lau.” He spoke in a whisper. “I saw Inspector Lam
on the news after the Bank shooting.” He kept his eyes focused on his hands. He
had interlocked his fingers and was twisting and untwisting them as he spoke.
Chow prompted him further.

“Yes, that’s right. Is there something that you know about the case
that you would like to tell me”, Chow urged, hoping that his gentle nurturing
would give the young man confidence.

‘Yes…I” he stuttered, “I think the dead man is my Father.” Stephen
Lau spoke with his eyes cast down towards the table. Chow thought he could be
silently crying, so he lent across the table and reached for a packet of
tissues, pushing them across the table towards Lau, Chow pressed on with his
questions.

“Why do you think it’s your Father? We haven’t released a photo or
description”, Chow stated.

Lau rubbed his forehead with both hands and rubbing his eyes sat up
straight to face Chow.

“My Mother had been worried. My father left home just over a week
ago, telling her that he was coming to visit me in Hong Kong. I moved here from
China to study just over six months ago. My parents had saved up enough for me
to attend the Hong Kong University, but I knew that it cost them a lot of
money. Then my father lost his job, and my Mother is not well and needs a lot
of medical treatment, so I think their money ran out.” He sighed sadly before
continuing.

“I speak to my Mother every week. When my Mother called me to ask if
my Father had arrived safely, it was the first I’d heard of his visit. He never
came to see me. So then we became worried. My mother started to ask around some
of his friends, and finally one of them admitted that he knew where he had
gone.” Stephen Lau tugged one of the white tissues from the packet and blew his
nose. He screwed the tissue up and pushed it deep into his trouser pocket
before continuing.

“ My mother found out that when one of his ex-work colleagues heard
that my Father was having money trouble, he put him in touch with an
acquaintance in Hong Kong who was looking for someone to do some odd jobs.
Apparently the pay was OK. So my Father accepted without really asking too many
questions. He was so foolish.” Stephen
Lau,
sat
silently, not wanting to go on.

“Carry on.” Chow said.
“In your own time”.

“He knew what he was doing was high risk, but he agreed anyway. He told his friend it was simple. All
that he had to do was to walk into a bank to test their security system. To see
how far into the bank he could get before being stopped by the security guards.
It was supposed to be that simple. If he managed his task successfully, they
were going to give him RMB50’000
.00
for that one easy
job.” Stephen Lau’s shoulders sank. “There’s no such thing as easy money.” He
said to himself.

“He’d told all of this to his friend and asked his opinion. His
friend said that he should find something else to do, another way to raise the
money. But the offer was too great. He really thought he could just do it and
walk away. It’s more money than he could earn in half a year.” Stephen was
crying now. He grabbed another tissue to dab the tears, sniffing them back.

“Of course he never made it out of the bank, and he was never paid
the money.” Stephen looked up at Chow, his eyes red now from the tears, his
nose swollen.

“My mother told me all of this and I didn’t believe her. I couldn’t
believe it. Then I saw it on the news here in Hong Kong, now I know that it’s
true.”

Chow leaned forwards and rested his hand on Stephen’s shoulder. It
seemed to sag under the weight of his hand.

“I’m sorry Stephen.”

“He was not a bad man,
just trying to help his family.” Stephen said as he slumped back in the hard
wooden chair.

Chow sat back considering the young man before him. It was such a sad
common theme, one, even in his short career, that he had heard many times over.
Struggling mainland families trying to keep things together, lured down a
slippery slope hoping for a quick fix, with promises of money, work and
opportunity in return for nothing but trouble.
There is always a price to pay
, Chow thought sadly, and he had paid
the highest price of all to keep his family afloat and his son at University.

“Your fathers friend, the one that he confided in, does he know any
more about the man that asked him to do the job?” Chow asked, hopeful that this
would give him the lead that they needed.

“All my Mother told me is that he’s from Hong Kong. A gangster. No
one knows his real name, but they call him ‘Ghost Face’. “ Suddenly Stephen
looked uncomfortable, as though he had given away too much.

“I shouldn’t even be here telling you this.” His eyes looked anxious.

“It’s just that my Mother wants me to bury my Father. That’s why I’m
here. My Father is not to be disgraced, he needs a proper burial.” Stephen
finished.

‘It’s OK, Stephen, I understand.” Chow said, his mind now racing with
the lead that he had just been given.

“We will need to hold your Father’s body here for a while longer. No
one else knows anything about you or your Mother. Just me, you need to trust me
that everything will be OK.”

“We will need to speak to you again, so for the moment you should
remain in Hong Kong and we will need to speak to your Mother and your Father’s
friend, but we will be discreet. We will make sure that you are safe.” Chow
looked at Stephen and hoped that he had given the boy some security.

“I’m sorry that your Father became involved in something like this
and that it ended this way for you and your family.” Chow said sympathetically.

“I will do my best to find the man responsible”.

Stephen nodded silently.

“If you think of anything else, any detail, then just contact me
directly. Here’s my number.” Chow reached into his trouser pocket and pulled
out a card with his direct number on it and passed it to Stephen. Then pulled
out a pen and a second card.

“I’ll need your number and contact details, and I will call you once
your Fathers body is ready to be released.”

Chow watched Stephen concentrate as he scribbled his name and number
on the back of the card and pass it back to Chow.

“Thank you Stephen, you have been a great help. I’ll walk you out.”

After walking Stephen Lau out of the station Chow sat back down at
his desk. He couldn’t believe his luck. He had a lead and a name. Chow was sure
that he had heard this name before.

He thought that it was triad related, convinced of it. He would have
to call in a
favour
with his friend at the
Organised
Crime and Triad Bureau. Seconds later Chow was on
the phone.

Chow sat tapping the wooden desk impatient for the return call. He’d
spoken to his contact and he had agreed to do some digging. Within minutes the
phone rang. Chow grabbed the receiver so fast he almost lost his grip. Fumbling
with the phone he finally got it to his ear. “Yes, hi, what do you have?” Chow
vigorously wrote down everything that he was being told on a scrap of paper.

“Yes, I understand, no direct contact.” He listened intently.

“OK, yes. This is huge I owe you one.’

Chow replaced the receiver. This was it. He could feel it. A
satisfied grin slowly stretched across his face as he grabbed his bags and made
his way out of his office.

AUGUST 8: 4:00pm

Officer Chow stood at the corner of Tai Lam Street in front of a
small alleyway. He was close enough to the café and made sure that he was
shielded by the 7 Eleven signage so that he could keep himself tucked far
enough away and out of sight. He had a good view through the main café window
and also the main doorway. He had been there for over an hour having followed
Ghost Face. The Triad Bureau tip-off made it easier than
Chow
thought possible. He was under strict instructions to observe and not approach
Ghost Face under any circumstances.

What he didn’t expect to see through the café window was Ryan Harper,
the
eye witness
from the bank with a very good looking
young Chinese woman.
This
, he thought
excitedly,
was all a bonus
. The three
of them were in deep discussion with their heads bent forwards making it
impossible for Chow to take a clear photograph. His mind was racing. He had
genuinely believed Harper to be an innocent bystander, but certainly not now.
Now Harper was very clearly involved in whatever this was. Minutes later Ghost
Face stepped out of the café and looked across the street directly towards
where Chow was standing. Chow quickly flattened his body hard against the wall
to try and hide himself.
Shit, shit
,
he said to himself.
I don’t think he saw me
. Chow waited for
a few seconds longer and then carefully moved himself forwards to look back
toward the Café. Relieved, he saw that Ghost Face had gone. He could still see
Harper and the woman inside talking, so now Chow decided to wait and see where
they went next. Five minutes after Ghost Face left the café, Harper also left,
leaving just the woman still sitting inside. He managed to get a few
full face
shots of Harper with his camera as he walked down
the street on the opposite side, totally oblivious to Chow’s presence.

Chow felt the exhilaration bite in his stomach. He knew he was onto
something major. He just needed to hang on and wait for the woman now, and then
he’d follow her. Once he had a bit more information he’d call it in to Lam. He
didn’t want her all over it before he had a chance to get something concrete.
If his gut feeling was right, and if he managed to pull this off, it would
absolutely give him the recognition that he deserved, but he first needed to be
clear with his facts.

Lost in his own reverie, Chow almost missed the woman leaving the
café. She walked with intention. Her large black leather bag slung over her
shoulder. He watched as she slipped on her dark glasses and made her way down
the street. Chow bent down and hastily grabbed the handle of his backpack. He
was about to follow the woman when he heard a scraping noise in the alleyway
behind him. He swiftly turned his head to give a cursory glance. As he did so
he saw a flash of silver metal and felt the cool pressure across his neck. He
didn’t have time to make a noise or respond. The razor-sharp knife moved
silently and swiftly in front of him, doing its job effortlessly. Chow slowly
slid down the wall sideways until he was squatting on the floor, his forehead
gently resting against his knees and his arms loose by his side. His last
breath exited his body along with his life’s blood as it trickled and weaved
down the alleyway following his killer, his camera and his backpack.