The Dragon's Tale: A Jack Lauder Thriller (29 page)

PART 5

CHAPTER 1

     When they arrived back in Hong Kong, Jack assumed they’d simply go back to Diana’s apartment but she was oddly reticent and he figured she was concerned that maybe it was a bit small. He wanted to say how incongruous that sounded after they’d been cooped up in a bunk in a Russian ATV for a few days but she wasn’t forthcoming and he didn’t want to trespass on her feelings so he let it go. They headed instead for the Mandarin and on this she did comment, “Feeling squeamish about returning to Gerry’s flat, are we?”

     There was no hiding the hint of sarcasm in her voice and it grated on him to some small extent that she was so unforgiving. The man was dead, for God’s sake! He didn’t expect her to grieve like him for the loss of a good friend, because, whatever was the cause and it was another place he didn’t really want to go, their experiences had been far different and she clearly didn’t miss him at all, but this feeling of triumph about finding him laid out in the dead files cabinet just didn’t square with him at all. He’d have to have a word with her because, if their relationship was going to work, they needed to iron out some of these differences. What did he like about her? That was easy: she was vivacious, brave as a lioness; she was gorgeous to look at; she could be warm and tender; oh and the sex was exquisite. If he parted from her he’d lust for her body for years to come. But the flip side of all these characteristics was that she could be icily sarcastic and she had the capacity for the type of vengeance that could bring down dynasties, continents, the whole human race. You wouldn’t want to cross her. Is that what he wanted? Well, yes, he wanted quite a lot of her actually. He decided to start now. “You know,” he said, “one thing I find very difficult with you is you don’t ever seem to forgive and forget?”

     “I never forget, Jack! Once you’re off the Christmas card list, that’s it, mate.”

     “That’s very bleak. Besides it means you’ve got to be pretty well perfect yourself.”

     “I don’t pretend to be perfect. I don’t want to be judged by my own standards. I intend to impose my own standards. It’s the way it is.  That’s all.”

      “Where does that leave me? Assuming of course that I don’t always come up to these exacting standards.”

      “Well, you’ve done surprisingly well up to now so why not just suck it and see?”

     No sooner had he checked in than reception told him there was a letter waiting for him. The envelope showed it had been posted to his office and re-directed here. There was another letter inside it and a note from his PA which explained that it had arrived a few days after he had left and she had thought it important enough to send straight on to him because it related to his reasons for going to Hong Kong. He tore it open and frowned as he saw the postmark on the envelope inside. The original letter had been posted from Vladivostok three weeks before. Hands trembling he opened this second envelope. A key fell out and two pieces of paper. One was a short, scrawled letter from Gerry, which read:

Good day mate,

Sorry for the late contact but there's been a couple of ricks. I’m not sure how it’s going to pan out but I figure my secret’s safe with you. I’m eternally grateful for your generosity as always and I’ve made it so that if all else fails you will get yours back. The way this works is this: if you’re reading this letter and something’s happened to me so you can’t check up with the author directly, you'll be pleased to know this key opens a safe deposit box at the Honkers and Shankers, Victoria Head Office. It's a computer system and the numbers you need to push are 1997 666 (The number of the Beast!). Open Sesame, mate. What's there is yours. Also, there's a box.  There's some things in it of more than passing interest, I’m sure, if you can get it all translated. Also there's this piece of paper. Haven't a clue what it says but I'm no bloody calligrapher. Anyway, I am pretty certain that others might want it quite badly, if you catch my drift, so I am sure you’ll know exactly how to handle them. Ciao for now. I'm going walkabout mate. Got just the sheila for company on a cold night in the outback.

    Jack looked at the second paper while Diana read the letter. The paper was in written Chinese. He could pick out odd characters here and there but his facility with the spoken language didn't extend to the script. "Well," she said brightly, "let's go and open the box."

     Shortly the secrets of the Montrose box were at least partly out. Partly because it was all in Chinese and although Diana was good with the spoken language she wasn’t up to much when it came to the written. The simple facts were: Gerry had rather poignantly left a deed transferring his apartment to Jack, so that was obviously what he’d meant about repaying the loan; also in the box there were computer disks they couldn’t access without hardware; and there were some more documents in Chinese script. They needed someone to translate all this. Diana was as pragmatic as ever, "Let's start with the piece of paper from Gerry's letter," she said, "there must be someone here who can translate it."

     After a phone call to reception they walked into the Business Centre where a young lady took the document from Jack and began to study it carefully. Her mouth fell open as she read. "Where did this come from?" she asked.

     Jack was going to explain but Diana cut him short by saying that someone back home was playing a trick on them. It was a puzzle, a kind of treasure hunt. The girl seemed partially reassured by that explanation. "Okay," she said, "but it is very unusual. You wait ten minutes and I give you a full translation. It will just go on your room bill." She was as good as her word and she came back with the fragment of text translated. "See," she said, "I told you it was unusual," and she looked at them both oddly. "We're not allowed to mention those names."

     She pointed with a long, elegant, pink-tipped index finger at three of the words she'd translated. Jack nodded. He knew exactly what she meant. Diana was looking curiously at the words,
Wo Shing Wo
. Neither of them noticed the curious look the girl threw at them as she disappeared back into her office. She closed the door and got straight on the telephone. "What did she mean?" Diana asked.

     "It's a Triad society," Jack said, "a very powerful one, probably the strongest here after the 14k."

     “I know that, dummy. What do you think I’ve been doing here all this time, hibernating in a roo’s pouch?”

     “Well, she meant they can’t mention the names. It’s an offence to claim to be a member of a Triad Society and Chinese people talking about them can be misconstrued.”

     Jack looked at the rest of the fragment. It didn't altogether make sense. It wasn't complete because it had been torn off something larger. What was decipherable read:

"…. end … 2nd Session …. Council… point ..closure ..hil…han… must be dead. ….Democrats …not recover ….time… no blame… China…. be seen… work … faction of Wo Shing Wo. All….the Dragon rises….the one … must do … K.K. Chow …. reward… untold wealth…. Act…not… forgotten. The grass sandal is yours."

     "What do you make of that?" Diana asked.

     "I don't know," Jack replied, "but I don't like it. No wonder that girl looked at us strangely."

     “What about getting the things in the box translated,” she asked, “and those computer disks printed out?”

     “I’m not sure,” Jack said, “I’ve got a funny feeling about this. You remember Gerry said in his note he couldn’t make out what half of this stuff was. That girl was pretty gobsmacked by the mention of the Triad Society’s name. That’s just on a scrap of paper. What’s on the rest could be lethal. K.K. Chow told me Gerry had stolen something from him. This must be what he was talking about. It’s what they’ve thought I had all along. That’s why they came after me and it’s kind of why I’m here. It must be serious stuff or they wouldn’t have gone to those lengths to get it back. I don’t think we can afford to hand it to just anyone to translate. If this fell into the wrong hands we could be in serious bother. It might even be illegal to have it in our possession!”

     “Right, but it can’t get us into trouble can it? We’ve come across it innocently.”

     “I’d rather not take the risk. Maybe I should hand it over to someone official, Graham Witherspoon for instance?” The look on Diana face suggested she wasn’t impressed with that idea. "What? Graham's about the only person in the Hong Kong Government I would trust as far as I could throw!”

     "Well, I’m not so sure, I’d be careful if I were you." Try as he might he couldn't get her to amplify that. She just said, "Play your cards close to your chest, that's all I'm saying."

     That wasn't very helpful because he'd intended doing the exact opposite, just levelling with his old friend and getting some much needed help. He was perplexed as he left the hotel room. He’d lost confidence in the meeting for reasons he couldn’t quite comprehend.

     Diana didn't want to go with him to see Graham. She said she was tired and wanted a bath. After he left she had the bath then she read for a while and watched the television. When she heard the knock on the door she got up with a sense of relief and went to open it. She peered through the peephole and was surprised to see a smartly dressed Chinese man there. Thinking it was one of the hotel staff she opened the door on the chain.

     "Hi," the man said, "I'm the housekeeping manager, ma'am. I conducting a survey of our guests. I wonder if you spare me a few moments of your time. I spoke to Mr. Lauder down in lobby and he in a hurry but said you not mind. We know him well here. He is honoured guest."

     Diana shrugged. Jack seemed to know a whole host of people in the most out of the way places. She unclipped the chain, "Sure. Come in.”

     The words were scarcely out of her mouth when the door was slammed open by the force of three men who appeared from nowhere. She was flung back into the room and they piled in after her.

     The urbane man who had pretended to be a hotel employee strutted in behind them, casting an eye around the room. Meanwhile two of his cohorts had Diana pinned down in an armchair while the third searched the room. The third, she noticed, was Tall Man Hung. His presence here didn’t bode well. She knew him well enough as a fellow employee of her former boss to be aware of his reputation. He was wearing a dark suit and dark glasses. She shivered, under no illusions about the danger he posed.  "Come on, my dear, where is it?" the first man said.

     "Where's what?"

     "The stuff Mr. Montro left with Mr. Jack.  You know what I talk about. What I've heard suggests you are clever lady, so I sure good old Mr. Jack tell you everything."

     "I don't know anything about Jack’s business.”

     "Tut, tut tut, that not very good!” He headed over towards the bedroom and looked round the door. "This where action is?” He cocked his head. “So why not just tell us and we go away and leave you alone. Fair trade?" He looked at Diana out of dark, soulful eyes. "You see him?" and he indicated Tall Man Hung who'd returned from scanning through the contents of the bathroom. Hung shook his head at the man as if to indicate that he had found nothing. He grinned and came up to her. He made a throat-cutting gesture and then touched her neck. Diana pulled away from him in revulsion.

     "Oh yes," the man continued, "he an artist, Tall Man Hung. He ex Red Guard. But you know that, eh? He seen a lot of nasty thing in his time and he like it. He go across to Macao to have white woman. He like white woman. Their flesh remind him of sweet fat pork." He traced his hand down her creamy tanned arm and then pinched a little of the skin, making her grimace. He left the next part unspoken but it was obvious that he thought Diana should figure on Tall Man Hung's menu and as if to confirm his agreement the tall man started to strip off his jacket as if he intended to get to work. Diana stared at the tall Chinese, wondering just what, precisely, he intended to do next, and the first man nodded a curt signal and one of the others jabbed a hypodermic into her arm.

     She let out a piercing scream but it was strangled almost as soon as it escaped from her mouth.  As her senses slipped into another dimension, one in which she was awake but dreaming, she heard the first man say in Cantonese, the only time since he had entered her room that he had spoken in his own language, "Hold her up. We've got to get her past the Security Guard." It was peculiar that she could feel nothing but she could still move; she could observe but she couldn’t speak; her mind was a blank even though she knew deep down inside that something terrible was happening. Most of all she just wanted to sleep but she couldn’t get there, couldn’t ever get past that threshold.