The Dragon's Tale: A Jack Lauder Thriller (34 page)

    “This way,” Philip whispered, and he led Jack and Diana towards the rear of his office. They passed out through his secretary’s room into a corridor which ran along the back of the building. “Through here!” This time they went through the fire door and into the hall for the service lifts. Philip was about to press the call button when the door at the top of the hall was flung open and a masked man peered out. Seeing them outside the lift he shouted and then loosed off his automatic in their direction. They had no time to await the elevator’s arrival and took off down the flight of stairs, descending swiftly as if down a corkscrew. Shouts up above told them their pursuers were on to them and gunfire raked the stairs as they ran. A group of the masked men peeled off from the rest and began the pursuit while others awaited the lift. Jack noticed one of the lifts was going up but the other was static on the fifteenth floor. Reaching it he pressed the down button. The lift door opened and they piled into it, sending it immediately to the ground. The lift accelerated away but even so it was an agonising wait as the door opened. Their pursuers could have been standing there, automatics levelled. They weren’t and their lift was only just leaving the top floor. The frantic trio had a head start but the only option was the street. They reached it as the eye of the storm continued to pass over Central District giving no indication of the mayhem in its wake. They rushed across Queens Road and up Battery Path. Fingers of forked lightning suddenly clutched out of the sky for a nearby tree which exploded. The triad gang, half a dozen strong, rushed across the main street to make the bottom of the path. Thunder roared and lightning flashed as the trio rushed up the hill towards the old courthouse. They sheltered momentarily in the lee of its wall while they pondered their next move. The only way out was up and they ran up the hill in the teeth of a howling gale until their lungs were on fire.

     Running through the courtyard of St. John’s Cathedral, Philip pointed to the Peak Tram. “The last lift!” he shouted. The funicular railway up to Mid-Levels and the Peak was about to make its final trip to the residential areas on the high extinct volcano at the Island’s heart. They rushed across Garden Road just as their pursuers emerged in the courtyard of the Anglican Cathedral. Joining the last stragglers from the workplaces of Central and the pleasure palaces of Wan Chai as they crammed into the tram, the trio looked anxiously back behind them until they breathed a sigh of relief as their pursuers pulled up in disgust at missing the tram. One of them got on a short-wave radio.

    “They’ll bring the car round,” Jack said, “there’s only three or four places the tram stops. They’ll be waiting for us.”

     “If they’re desperate enough to drive in these conditions, they’ll stop at nothing,” Philip agreed.

    “We won’t get off at Kennedy Road, we’ll get off at MacDonnell or May,” Philip said. “I have an apartment above Happy Valley. We can head for there.” They left the tram at MacDonnell and ran along the streets of Mid-Levels above the city until they reached the west of the town. The wind tore at their clothing as they ran and they hugged the shelter of the apartment blocks which stared out over the harbour. Liberated rubbish and limbs torn from trees performed a ghostly dance in the twilight, swirling about them until the debris was drawn further up the hill by the powerful currents of wind.

    “I think we’ve shaken them off!” Jack shouted. He spoke too soon. The ominous glare of fog lights came round the corner behind them as they ran. A tree crashed down in front of them, its huge trunk gouging tarmac out of the road as it hurtled towards the retaining wall on the other side.

    Philip looked behind him anxiously, “No one up to any good would be out at this time,” he said. “We have to get off the road.” The answer loomed up in front of them. The terraces of cemeteries, beginning from the bottom of the valley and running high up the hill, provided immediate escape from the onrushing van. At the entrance they stopped momentarily until fear of the living overcame all atavisms, then they plunged in, dodging behind the graves of dead ancestors, the Chinese ones remembered with photographs and lucky money parcels, but the other nationalities long forgotten. Finally, exhausted, they crept behind a large memorial, which adorned the grave of one of Hong Kong’s original Victorian patricians, and peered out fearfully. It wasn’t long before the black-cloaked figures began to walk crabwise among the graves, pointing their weapons at each turn of a corner. The electrical storm drew eerie pictures as they watched the triads come closer. If they broke cover here they would be easy targets but if they stayed it was only a matter of time before they were discovered.

     The storm reached a crescendo and a gigantic lightning strike lit up the whole hillside. Was it Jack’s imagination or did he see it move? Water poured down past them as if a subterranean stream had been released. Jack watched fascinated as the initial surge turned into a flow like a waterfall and rushed down the hill. “My God!” Diana shouted and she pointed upwards as graves above them began to topple down the hill.

     “Landslide!” Philip shouted. Like a scene from the Apocalypse the graves began to open and spew forth their contents. Sheltering in the lee of the monument, Jack’s tiny group was safer than the triads below. They saw masked faces turn towards the commotion. Their body language betrayed their sudden alarm. Men bent on extremes of savagery were reduced to gibbering wrecks as the dead of every nationality of Hong Kong rained down on them. A huge wall of slimy mud gathered from the brow of the hill and began to move downwards with all the force of a glacier. The concrete plinth on which the beleaguered trio sat began suddenly to sledge down the hill. The triads, trapped by the mudflow, drowned with agonised screams as their quarry roared past, clinging for dear life to the monument. The mud juggernaut breached the retaining wall at the bottom and avalanched into the road where a few moments later they joined it, their toboggan pointing jauntily upwards like a sail in a sea of mud. As they came to a halt Philip stood up and, taking a handkerchief from his breast pocket, wiped the mud from his spectacles. He stared down at the inscription on the tombstone. Jack leaned over and read where Philip pointed. “The English aristocracy have some use after all,” he muttered.

     Philip laughed almost gleefully. “Yes, the cause of it all, getting a peculiar kind of comeuppance,” he said, “men not remembered by my people with any affection.” He looked at Jack with a mischievous gleam in his eyes, “As you can see, this one was a slippery customer.”

      Despite their bedraggled state they found time to enjoy the humour of the moment. “Well,” Diana said, wiping mud and tears from her eyes, “they say nothing happens without a purpose.”

      “You are quite right my dear,” Philip replied, “for the first time in my comparatively eventful life I find it in my heart to forgive this patriarchal British pirate his trespass.” Then he looked at Jack, “Tell me, my dear fellow, do you still play chess?”

CHAPTER 8

      It came as nothing more than a minor surprise to learn that the Hong Kong Government had no intention of prosecuting the K.K. Chow faction. Philip had been certain some deal would be struck. The Hong Kong administration had kow-towed. The law had been broken but what was that in the realm of international relations? Pressure had come from Britain. There was a lot at stake. British business wanted a share of China's consumer economy, the fastest growing in the world.

     Jack found this out just before he called on Graham Witherspoon while doing the rounds of unfinished business. He walked into the Commissioner's office and the receptionist showed him through. Graham was more effusive than the last time Jack had been here so he was immediately on his guard. “You’re looking chipper, mate,” the Commissioner said, pumping his hand.

     "I came to invite you to a wedding," Jack replied.

     "I'd be delighted to come, both of us would be honoured, my good lady and me."

     "Really?" Something else was beginning to formulate in his head even as he spoke, something devastating. Sad stories about the death of kings. "Graham," he said, "I wonder if I could tell you a little tale?"

      "Oh, ripper, mate," the Commissioner replied with a false and nervous bonhomie, "are we all sitting comfortably?" He wasn’t, he squirmed around on his seat as if it were sprinkled with tin tacks.

     Jack smiled, "Once upon a time there was a man, who had a good friend he’d known for years. Let’s call them Bill and Ben. Bill was such a good friend that Ben trusted him with a few secrets. Bill was so powerful, he could get just about anything done. One day when Bill and Ben were being chased by dragons on an island, Bill was able to chase the monsters away. His influence was so great that he was even able to get Ben out of a spot of bother in another country. Bill was such a good friend he was always giving Ben assistance. He provided him with clues to help him find things he'd lost. Eventually, however, Bill showed his true colours. While Ben was sitting talking to him Bill sent a group of villains round to kidnap Ben’s fiancée so he could blackmail Ben into giving him some valuable information......” Jack was looking into Graham's watery blue eyes as he accused him. He was surprised to see the other man held his gaze, but maybe he had the balls for just about anything.

     "You are so clever Jack," Graham responded, “no one should underestimate you, you Pommie bastard. You've got it all worked out, haven't you? Well, why don't you finish it? Why don't you just tell me why I did all that?"

     So Jack did. He told Graham that he knew of his secret liaison with Chow.  He'd seen K.K. Chow’s diaries, which, among other things, had been lifted by Gerry as his last act of allegiance to the Hong Kong Government. He knew corruption was an insidious poison, it undermines everything, including the soul and self-belief of the corrupted, and sooner or later his acts of betrayal extend beyond passing over bits of information. There comes a point when he has to sell his friends and colleagues down the river as proof of his loyalty to his new masters. He enjoys it because he resents them for not being corruptible. “How could you betray Gerry to those bastards?" he ended, "you were sending him to certain death!"

     Graham was gazing at the floor now, his whole body slumped forward. He looked up at Jack.  "Let's clear this up about you first," he said. "Yes. I guessed you had the information Monty pilfered. I expected you to come clean that day when you got back from Russia. When it became obvious you were playing things close to your chest, I sent the men round to your gaff and your Sheila was there. She's very useful, in more ways than one, but I don't need to tell you that now, do I?" He laughed cynically. "You’re clever, Jack, but the obverse of that coin is sometimes you are so naive, either that or I've been round Government too long.  Who was going to get those disks back if I didn't? I know it's the Nuremburg defence, mate, but I was doing my job, I was doing what I was told. I wasn’t in league with Chow.  I was acting for the Government." He lit up a cigar. Jack refused the offer. "But that's not the end of it," Graham continued, "while you've got those disks your life is worth Jack shit, mate. The Governor needs you around like a chunder on his doorstep. Do you seriously think he wants K.K. Chow under arrest, screaming about how the big white chief reneged on a deal they’d made? It was one almighty embarrassment having not only the Governor's biggest Triad ally but also the son of the Southern Region Commander of the PLA down on Stonecutters, all because a Pommie lawyer couldn't keep his nose out of things that didn't concern him. Holy Shit! Did you come down in the last shower, mate?”

     “So,” Jack replied icily, “the Hong Kong Government and therefore probably the British Government, too, knew everything, the assassination plans, the lot?”

     "Of course they knew! What do you think the world is? There's literally nothing you can do about it, mate. I can have you arrested at a moment's notice before you even leave this place. You think I blew Monty's cover? It was going to be done anyway. He was going to be thrown to the wolves. I went out on a limb, mate. I gave him forty-eight hours' warning? Straight up, I'm the one who gave the dingo a way to walk. Britton would have my guts for garters if he knew it was me.”

    “Why should they want to sacrifice him?” Jack asked in a bewildered tone, “he was working for them?”

     “He found out too many things, Jack.  Those tosspots in Government House really underestimated him. They ordered me to blow his cover, so he’d get wiped out before he became dangerous. They didn’t know he’d lifted K.K. Chow’s software, but they did know he found out more than he should.”

     “The assassination plot, you mean?”

     "Yeah. Wiping out a bunch of Triad hoods happens to be a very convenient agenda for a lot of Governments. If it can be disguised as a diabolical Chinese plot so much the better. It was when the threat came that some of those non-Triad names on the list would start to crawl out of the woodwork that they took fright. Like Philip Chan for instance. The Government didn’t want to do away with him. Like your friend Ma. They are nuisances but soon they’ll be nuisances to China not Britain. My enemy used to be my enemy but now he‘s my enemy‘s enemy, he‘s my friend. You heard of that? Old Winny Churchill, ain’t it?”

     “So, you are telling me the Chinese Government added a few names of their own? The quid pro quo. K.K. Chow gets to do a Valentine’s day massacre of the opposing triad factions, but he’s got to get rid of a few political enemies of the Chinese too?”

     “Precisely. Many people high up in the hierarchy in China are on frolics of their own, and if you line the right pockets you can open a few doors. Do you seriously think Britton doesn't know what's going down as soon as the Ghurkas pack up and piss off out of here?  Monty never put two and two together. He had the information in his hands but he couldn’t decipher it. That made him more dangerous. It could have gone anywhere.”

     “What was his role,” Jack asked, “what was he supposed to do with K.K. Chow?”

    “He was just a decoy, someone for K.K. Chow to blame if the secret got out prematurely, so his Triad rivals wouldn’t wipe him out. Then he goes AWOL. He takes off after the foreign chick and engages the Russian Mafia single-handed. If he’d left the computer disks, he’d be safe today. Do you think the 14K gives a flying fack whether the world knows they’re in league with the Reds, or they intend to carry out a pogrom in Hong Kong before the handover? All they care about is the world’s governments knowing where they stash their billions!”

     "Where do you come into it?"

     "Remember what a village this is, Jack.  K.K. Chow would only talk to the top guys in Government. There had to be a cover for what he was doing if it came out. You know what this city is like. If he'd been meeting with the Police, the Moks would have had his throat cut because they would have suspected him of betraying them. In this town you cut throats first and ask questions later. Talking to Anti-Corruption though is a time-honoured privilege of big business. They're all at it, telling tales on the cops, telling tales on civil servants, telling tales on their rivals in business. It's almost respectable."

    That was the way Jack remembered it. Everyone in Hong Kong was always whistle-blowing on everybody else to Anti-Corruption, but he still didn't know the answer to the other question. “Why did you have Diana kidnapped?”

    "I didn’t! Sure, I’d been told you came back through Immigration with a good looking girl, but I didn’t think you were that much of an item. I swear I thought that hotel room was empty when I sent the men round. I thought you had the box there. The idea was to get it back to Chow, he would render to General Sze what was China’s and he would keep the computer disks himself. Everything would have been hunky-dory. Your lady friend was a complication we didn't reckon with!"

     Jack was almost taken in by this sophistry. It sounded reasonable but then the reality hit home. Diana and he had been on the verge of being wiped out by that cretin Chow, and here was Graham acting as if the boss of the 14K had an official position in the Hong Kong Government, “How could you put Diana at risk like that?”

     In response Graham just laughed a cynical laugh, “You really did come down with the last shower, didn’t you? Diana was doing her job. What do you think she was doing with you down there in the boonies? Keeping an eye on you, matey! You think you and her are going to get married? I give it that long.” He held up thumb and forefinger with a miniscule gap in between. “She’s fond of her fun is the Sheila but she’ll never change her spots. Tell you what, I’ll do a favour for an old cobber.” He wrote down some numbers on a piece of paper and handed it to a bemused Jack. It looked like a room number and entrance code. “Take that to the Park in Causeway Bay opposite Victoria Park. That’s the room number. Old friend of Di’s is in town. He’s a DEA operative name of Lionel. Nice guy really, bit quirky because of the job he does but okay. You just ask him about her. I gave you the code so you could walk in unannounced, catch him by surprise. He’ll be readier to talk then. He’ll tell you all about the new woman in your life. You might want to think twice then about marriage plans?” 

     With one smack in the mouth Jack dumped Graham on his back over the table. The Commissioner peered back up over the other side with a hurt expression on his face, as if Jack was behaving unreasonably. "Oh, and forget about arresting me," Jack said, "because Philip Chan will go public.”

     Graham looked horrified, “You haven’t given those things to Philip Chan!” It was more an exclamation than a question.

      “Oh yes I have,” Jack said, acting like the pantomime hero as he headed for the exit.

      “I suppose this means the invite to the wedding tucker’s off?” Graham called after him.

      “Why, not likely! Tell you what, bonny lad. Bring K.K. Chow.  Why not invite the Governor and General Sze too? It’ll be the biggest event since the Godfather’s christening!”

      On his way back to the hotel Jack called at the Legco Building and was shown into Philip’s office. He told Philip he could use the Montrose papers any way he wished, and the Pro-Democracy Leader was ecstatic. “Do you realise what there is here, Jack? Forget about the tawdry Triad societies and their ill-gotten gains. A pox on them! I can’t tell you how important some of these other documents are. They prove the collusion between the Hong Kong Government and China in the assassination coup. It was to be a night of the long knives. More than that they demonstrate the Chinese designs on Taiwan. Even now there are warships in the South China Sea. I can stop all this, Jack, just by threatening to publish or be damned!”

     Jack smiled. He was suddenly weary. Politics had never been his game.  “Your prerogative now. I’m out of here.”

Philip smiled. “Jack,” he said, “you are a good man, and in your own way you are a genius. Did anyone ever tell you that?”

     Jack laughed, appreciating the irony. Many things had happened since that day in the courthouse when Peter had expressed a similar sentiment. Not all of those things had worked out perfectly. He hadn’t accomplished what he’d set out to do. Gerry Montrose had not found his way to walk. But he’d found Diana. Just as the glittering society on the edge of the Chinese super state prepared now to return to the main, Jack Lauder, long time loner, felt that, at long last, he was no longer an island. Nothing that Graham had hinted at could change that.