The Dragon's Tale: A Jack Lauder Thriller (30 page)

CHAPTER 2

     Jack walked to ICAC Headquarters. The early warning typhoon signal was up again at the Royal Navy Base and the air was close. Another storm was heading from Taiwan towards the China coast, scheduled to make landfall in the vicinity of Macao but if it backed a couple of degrees a direct hit on Hong Kong was on the cards. Even if the eye did not strike the ball of bad weather around the iris would bring the Crown Colony to a halt.

     When he reached ICAC HQ he found Graham friendly enough except he noticed that his old friend seemed to be in a bit of a hurry. From time to time he would look quickly down at his sleeve as if checking the time. He yawned once or twice and there were black shadows under his eyes as if he'd endured many a sleepless night. "Well, sport," he said, "I'll bet you didn't come and see me just to chew over old times again, eh? You came to tell me about your adventures in Russia, didn't you?" He was scrutinising Jack, who remembered Diana’s warning. He had to watch everything he said.

     "Nothing much to tell," Jack replied, "Gerry got killed by the mob because he was interfering with their business. He stepped over the line. I guess they needed to show everybody who was boss."

     Graham shook his head. "It's a big thing to do something like that to a foreign national, though," he said, "he must have been in some heavy shit." He was still staring hard at Jack, making him feel uncomfortable.

     "I don't think so," Jack replied, "life's cheap out there, the mob rules. He's got a lot of money in his pocket. He's put himself on the line for a woman they buy and sell like cattle. He’s risked his life for a cow, that’s the way they see it. What do they care about him? They probably thought he was another gangster, figured that's how he got the money. People tend to judge other people by their own standards. They wouldn't expect anyone to miss him because no one would miss them if it happened in reverse. It's a tough life."

     Graham was shaking his head, staring at Jack through his gold-rimmed spectacles and he suddenly realised how tough his friend had become, how hard-bitten. He remembered earlier, more carefree times, and he wondered what happened to people to destroy all their dreams. "You're not levelling with me Jack, come on, let's have the truth now. What did you find out?"

     Graham might be the best friend he had in this place but he was a government man when all was said and done. But was that so bad? Wasn’t it all the more reason to confide in him, wash his hands of all this intrigue and let the government get on with it? And anyway, whose side was Jack on? Why not give them what they wanted? It was Diana's warning that came back to him then. "Play your cards close," she'd advised. He decided to trust her judgement. "Don't know what you mean," he replied affably, "That's it. I never got a chance to talk to him, he was dead when I got there. The Police knew nothing about him." He shrugged.

     Graham’s eyes narrowed, "And what about what he owed you?"

     "Blown.” It was odd but he had the feeling that maybe Graham knew what had happened. About Chernenko and the raid on the dacha. How he might know was a puzzle but it was a sixth sense. He figured the Police Chief wouldn’t be boasting about his part in those events and it would all get hushed up, but people in Graham’s position had a habit of getting to know everything, official or unofficial. If that was the case he might at least suspect that Jack had got his money back. If he knew all that, he’d know Jack was lying through his teeth. He felt a tremor run down his spine but did his best to hide it beneath a show of bonhomie.

     Graham sat for an age, gazing at him, but he didn't take the conversation any further. "Just give me a mo," he said, and he stood up and walked out of the room. He was gone for a few minutes and then he returned, stifling a yawn. When he came back he was full of bonhomie, totally changed.

     “So what happened to you, your nag come in at Happy Valley?” Jack joked, recalling that his old friend had always been a Jockey Club afficianado.

     “Oh better than that,” Graham replied, and he rubbed his hands together in the way Jack remembered he had always done when he was excited about something, a trial was going well, he had the upper hand.

     Why did he have the impression that it was over him that he had the upper hand? That was crazy; they were on the same side ultimately. But Diana’s warning returned to him, the one about keeping his friends close and his enemies closer or something like that. "So how's tricks?" Jack asked him, trying to make conversation.

     Graham laughed and it sounded cynical, "Things'd be just tucker if it weren't for the pro-democracy bunch," he said. "They're making my life a misery, demanding the reopening of this and that file, accusing me of cover-ups. Jeez!"

     Jack could see he had a lot on his mind and perhaps he'd been unkind to suspect his motives, so he left after an hour without mentioning Gerry's box. He headed back the short distance to the Mandarin, the humidity making him feel clammy and uncomfortable. He made a point of saying hello to the Indian porter who acknowledged his greeting with a friendly wave, then, out of the blue, the man added, "If you looking for missy sir, she left with friends short time ago."

     "What?" Jack replied, "What do you mean, she left?"

     "Oh yes sir, nice friends come for her. They spend some time together, your missy and friends, then they all come down and go off. Oh yes, sir, they all arm in arm."

     She must have got bored he thought and gone out. So much for him saying stick in the hotel and keep the door locked! He might have known she'd do exactly as she pleased. What’s more, her friends must be people who knew her and that tosser, Goff. What was she doing with him? The old resentments were resurfacing and he thought, must get a grip on that. But the truth was he just didn’t know where he was with this woman, whether she loved him or not, or if he wasn’t just the next port in a storm.

     He took the lift up to the room expecting to find a note telling him where they'd kicked on to. The first thing he noticed was there’d been a bit of a shindig. Not a big one, it didn't look like any violence had taken place, but the armchair had been moved back to the wall. He tut-tutted as he moved it back into place, covering over the score marks. There was no note. He looked in the bathroom and there was nothing amiss, likewise the bedroom. He rang down to the management to see if there were any messages. There weren't.

     He decided just to wait. He turned on the television and caught the local news. There was an item about demands made by the local Pro-Democracy Party in the Legislative Council for the reopening of certain anti-corruption files, which brought back to memory his conversation with Graham. It was alleged the Hong Kong Government had some hidden agenda with the Chinese to prosecute certain figures who'd escaped conviction under British rule. This kind of double jeopardy was anti-democratic and a breach of the Basic Law, the guarantee of no disturbance of the political and legal systems for a minimum of fifty years after the handover. The point was the Pro-Democrats wanted the files opened now so that any future action by the Chinese could be scrutinised. It was the sort of politics Jack wasn't interested in. Who really gave a sod for the miserable skins of a few corrupt civil servants or colonial entrepreneurs? He knew it was all window dressing, aimed at causing the maximum embarrassment possible to the Governor for the sake of a few cheap political points.

     It was then the picture of Philip Chan flashed up on screen. Jack’s adversary in the Ma trial was now the Leader of the Pro-Democracy Party and a thorn in the side of the Communist Chinese who had got their hirelings in power before the handover but hadn‘t totally eradicated the opposition. Jack had heard rumours back home that Philip was on a hit list but that’s the kind of thing you take with a pinch of salt. There are conspiracy theories everywhere if you want to look for them. The whole world is one big conspiracy if you listen to some of the propaganda. Still, he settled back to watch. He was interested in anything Philip did. He had enormous respect for him. Watching his almost birdlike movements and listening to his precise, clipped tones, his memory was stirred. He hadn't changed a bit. One of the most able lawyers Jack had ever crossed swords with, they’d done a few major cases on opposite sides, but it had been the Ma case in which Jack had earned Philip’s respect for the integrity of his actions. Prior to that Philip had taken a cynical view of the Attorney-General’s department, seeing it as the lackey of a corrupt police force.

     The most popular politician in Hong Kong was as fiercely anti-Colonial as ever and he had severely criticised the British regime for its cowardice in the face of pressure from Beijing and its concern for British trading interests at the expense of the Hong Kong people. He saw the handover as the continuation of colonial rule, even though the territory was indisputably Chinese. He felt that Hong Kong should be its own separate state as Singapore was but that was geographically unrealistic, a pipe dream. He was as bitter in his opposition to the Beijing administration as he had been to the British and he was notorious for depicting the handover as the last great betrayal by the British in Hong Kong.

     When the programme finished Jack sat back in the armchair and poured a large gin and tonic. He was lost in the recollection of those days. One thing turned to another and very quickly he fell into a slumber while he waited for Diana to return. He didn't know how long he’d slept but he woke with a start. The evening was drawing on. There was still no word from her. Then he realised how complacent he’d been. How could he have been so stupid? He’d taken his eye off the ball and he suddenly had a strong sense of foreboding. He left the room and took the lift, caught up with the porter again and asked him to describe the people Diana had left with. He looked puzzled but thought hard and remembered the smartly dressed Chinese men. They'd walked to a car parked just over the road and driven off together; she very fair, he remembered, against their dark, expensive suits.

     Jack feared the worst now. Dazed, he returned to the room. Walking like a zombie, unable to concentrate and think of a coherent plan, he thought about who in Hong Kong he could ring. Graham was the obvious choice but there was something peculiar about the way he was behaving. Mr. Ma was another and Jack tried his business number but there was only an answering service. He’d forgotten to get his home telephone number and didn’t know his home address.

     The television was still on. His eyes drifted back to it and Philip was on the news again. Plans were afoot for a massive demonstration of all pro-democracy supporters this coming Saturday. There was going to be a great rally down in the Square in front of the Legco building. On an impulse Jack got the telephone number of Legco from the hotel reception. There was just a chance that someone like Philip would still be working. It was getting close to the elections now. He’d be putting in every extra hour. How he’d react to a call from Jack, let alone to the problem he was going to confront him with, was a moot point. The phone was answered by the Legco reception and yes, Philip was still in the building at a late committee meeting. There was no way he could be disturbed. The best the receptionist would do was ensure a message was sent up to him and she suggested that if the errand was so urgent Jack should make his way down there immediately. Giving the Mandarin as his Hong Kong address cut through the red tape. Jack hastily scribbled a note for Diana in case he proved mistaken and then he rushed down to the lobby and climbed swiftly into a taxi. He was glad of it. The weather had noticeably worsened in the last few hours. The wind had got up and brought with it a slanting rain.

CHAPTER 3

     A ride of ten minutes took him to the Legco building where he headed up the steps, presenting himself at the reception desk. He was directed to the tenth floor where there was another reception area. Sitting down on a settee he flicked through the South China Morning Post. He couldn’t concentrate and after a wait of about half an hour a man came out of the room marked Committee Room 4 and started to walk down the corridor. Jack recognised him instantly. Embarrassed about approaching him like this he swallowed hard, it was now or never. He stepped into Philip Chan’s path. “Philip!” he said, holding out his hand.

     Philip looked at him without recognition for a moment and then his fine, triangular features broke into a wide smile and he returned Jack’s handshake. “Jack Lauder!” he exclaimed, “What brings you here? Back to your old stamping ground?”

     Jack smiled because his old colleague, despite being Chinese through and through, was fond of English idiom and spoke the language to a perfection which is often the preserve of well-educated non-native speakers. “Did you get my message?” he asked anxiously.

     “I got a message,” Philip replied with an ironic grin, “but I hadn’t an inkling it was from you.” He rummaged in his pocket, took out a piece of paper and showed Jack the message. He had to laugh. The receptionist had elevated him to the peerage. He was now Lord Jackson. “I wondered who on earth you were,” Philip said laughing. “I thought it was yet another English diplomat come to lobby about something or other on behalf of some grandee here!”

     “Instead of which you got me, just about the diametric opposite.”

     “Well, one has to be grateful for small mercies,” Philip’s eyes twinkled, “Is this just a social call, are you here for long? Perhaps we could take tea together?”

     Jack became serious and, as briefly as possible, outlined his situation. Philip was astonished when Jack told him of Gerry’s death and when he got to the bit about Diana’s disappearance, the venerable brow knitted and he began to question Jack closely. “Why do you fear she has been kidnapped?”

     “I don’t know, it’s just that, ever since I came here, everybody seems to think Gerry left something with me before he died.” He backtracked a little and told Philip what had happened to him immediately before leaving the UK

     “But this is a serious business,” Philip said, “It was a brave decision to come to Hong Kong, but I would have expected no less from you. You always were a courageous one, willing to stand up even against your own people if you thought what they were doing was wrong.”

     Jack reddened at the compliment and then told Philip what Mr. Ma had done to get the Triad thugs off his back. “As far as I can tell, it worked. Until now.”

     “Ma! He is a very powerful man, Jack!  He has gone from strength to strength since I had the good fortune, with your immense sense of justice, to have him acquitted of that scandalous case. Coincidentally our deceased friend was closely involved with it.”

     Jack nodded in agreement, “It’s astonishing how all these threads are intertwining.”

     “Ma is of course one of my greatest supporters. Like his sense of obligation to you he has gone out of his way to turn the immense propaganda weapons of his newspapers in my favour. He dealt with K.K. Chow for you? That must have been demeaning for him, to have any truck with that cove!” Just as Jack remembered him, his English was still so precise, so correct and old-fashioned in its way. He spoke almost like a Victorian patrician.

     As they walked across the reception hall Philip’s chauffeur held up his hand in recognition and rushed out to get the car. As they drove back to the Mandarin, Jack mentioned Graham and told Philip of the episode on Lantao and what had happened since, including his cover up of, first, the Amie Chan and then the Philippines incident. Philip nodded his head as Jack spoke but he was noncommittal about the ICAC Commissioner. Jack had the feeling he was holding something back but he couldn’t cajole it out of him.

     A check at the Mandarin revealed no word from Diana but someone had been on the telephone. A man, speaking English. Reception couldn’t help Jack further because he hadn’t left a name or return number. Beside himself with worry he re-joined Philip and told him of the call. “Well,” Philip said, “it may be you are right to worry, it may not. One surprising thing is no one was on the telephone earlier. I would have thought they would contact you straight away. Just in case you called the Police. I don’t think they’d want that. It made me think you were mistaken but now you have had a call from someone....” He held out both hands in a gesture of uncertainty.

     “Maybe they wanted to make me sweat,” Jack said.

      “For a short time, yes,” Philip replied. “Tell me,” he continued, “who knew you were at the Mandarin?”

     “No one. We’d only just got back. We came an unusual route,” and Philip laughed as Jack told him of their escape from Russia and the trip back.

     “Jack, you never cease to astonish me! I must meet this lady of yours.” He put his hand on Jack’s arm, “and, don’t worry, I will!” Jack wished he felt as certain.  “I’m sorry to ask it,” Philip mused, “I know it must be hard, but could she have got cold feet, just walked out?”

     “Don’t apologise, and yes, it is possible. I frequently wonder what she sees in me, but all I’m sure of is she wouldn’t walk out and leave me in a sweat. She’d tell me face to face. She’s a woman of real courage. She doesn’t buck issues.”

     He nodded, “In that case think about it carefully. Who other than you two knew you were here?”

     “Well she claimed to have some friends?”

     “Anyone connected with Gerry?”

     “No way!” He had Philip’s drift now and was thinking hard. “There’s only Graham but that’s impossible.”

     “Impossible? Are you sure?”

     “Well, highly improbable.”

    “Jack, you know the old Holmesian adage: eliminate the impossible and what you have left is the truth, however improbable.” Graham? Yes, he thought to himself, he had been behaving strangely, but what would he get out of kidnapping Diana? That was just about as impossible as it got. “Did he have any interest in this material which K.K. Chow thought Gerry had left with you?”

    “Now you mention it, yes. A sort of covert interest, as if he too wanted to know what it was. And those Neanderthals he sent to see me, that wasn’t just because they were looking for Gerry.”

     “Maybe he knows what exactly it was that Gerry left with you?”

     “Before you ask, Gerry didn’t leave anything with me in England, they all had it wrong...” Philip was nodding, listening closely. “But...” Jack added and Philip craned forward “…that’s now changed,” and Jack went on to mention the letter his office had mailed to him and what he’d euphemistically named the Montrose box.

     “And no one else knows you have this?”

     “Just me and Diana.”

     “Where is it?”

     “I took it back down to the hotel strong room. I didn’t want to leave it in the room.”

     “A wise precaution, my friend, but I think we should look at it, don’t you?”

     It was a big step for Jack to take Philip into his confidence like this. What was in that box might be the only bargaining chip he had. Showing it to Philip might deprive him of it, but he was off his own patch here and so he had to trust someone so in for a penny!

      “We have to assume that if you are right and she has been kidnapped, whoever has done that also knows now where the box is,” Philip looked at Jack meaningfully.

     Jack nodded. The same thought had crossed his mind and his heart was breaking at the thought of what the Triads might have done to get that secret out of Diana but he tried to stay rational, “It would be unreasonable to suggest she won’t have told them.”

     “Yes, and you should know our ICAC Commissioner does have connections with K.K. Chow?”

     “What? Surely that can‘t be right?”

     “Not at all,” Philip explained, “I discovered it when I was asked to take on K.K. Chow’s case, the one that our mutual and sadly deceased friend was accused of compromising.” Philip added that he had turned down the brief because of the political ramifications of the trial but not before it had become clear that K.K. Chow was pleading a connection with the Hong Kong Government through the ICAC Commission, particularly the head man. “You see,” Philip added, “where that takes us? The reason these kidnappers did not get in touch with you earlier is they thought they knew whom you would contact.”

     Yet again Jack was astonished by his friend’s speed of thought, “Graham!”

     Philip’s pointed chin formed an inverted double pyramid with his thumb and index finger as he returned Jack’s look, “Precisely,” he said, “and when you didn’t get in touch with him they must have begun to get extremely worried.” Jack listened carefully. He had a sixth sense that the problem was tied up in some way with the political upheavals of this part of the world. “If we could bottom that, Jack, it would help us find Diana. If I am right that Graham Witherspoon is somehow implicated in these events that augurs well for her safety. The unexplained death of a European national would cause some fallout.”

     They crossed to reception where Jack asked for the safety deposit key. "It may seem a stupid question,” he asked Philip, “but what did you think of Gerry Montrose? Did you think he was corrupt?"

    "On the take? No way!" Both hands shot sideways in a gesture of finality, "Oh Gerard had his weaknesses but he was not corrupt in the way so many are on this island. No, I think his frailties were all exposed in the upholding of the law, not the breaking of it. He sometimes went over the top to prove a case, shall we say? As with Ma?" he shrugged, "there was a suggestion, yes, with the K.K. Chow trial, how it all seemed to go wrong for the Crown, and then Gerard started working for the Mok brothers afterwards. K.K. Chow of course fronted their empire. Tongues were bound to wag."

     "But you didn't believe them?"

     "Not at all. I'll let you into a little secret, Jack.  I know it will go no further and it may put your mind at rest, on this score at least."  He went on to enlarge on the K.K. Chow case. He’d returned the brief because of the unsavoury elements involved. When he'd been purely a practising lawyer, they would have caused him nothing more than a moral dilemma, but, now that he was the spokesman for a great many of the dispossessed in Hong Kong, his acting for that faction might have been interpreted as approval. "It made it a very interesting case, I can tell you. I was sorely tempted to take it, knowing that I was on a sure fire winner, that I could bring the Hong Kong Government to its knees. If it had not been for the dramatis personae, I think I would have had salad days with it."

     “I am sure you would have enjoyed giving Gerry a bloody nose too, figuratively speaking of course! You certainly owed him one.”

     Philip played down his personal feelings about Gerry, suggesting that any rivalry was purely professional and if, from time to time, it appeared bitter, then that was tactical. "Nevertheless, it was a surprise when he went to work for the Mok brothers and effectively put himself in league with Chow, a slithy tove if ever there was one. That I never quite understood. But I knew from what I had seen that it was not Gerard but some other anonymous official who was the cause of the collapse of that case."

     They were led through into the strongroom where Jack’s key released one of the boxes from the wall. "Perhaps, we will find some of the answers to these puzzles in this box."

     "Of course, we may very well find the answers we need and in turn we may learn how we can rescue your dear lady. Well, Jack, shall we look and see if, like its predecessor of western mythology, the famous Pandora’s Box, it has all the world's ills in there?" 

     Jack nodded grimly, realising all too clearly the truth of the analogy. Once the lid was off this thing it might never fit back on again.