by Ian Hamilton
The one piece of definitive news had come from the hospital. Wu’s man had been taken off the critical list and was on the mend. That said, Uncle still wasn’t ready to call Wu, and Wang was keeping their men on alert.
On Sunday he went to the races in Sha Tin, and even those four hours seemed to drag. He felt engaged during each race, but he spent most of the time between events thinking about what was going on in Shenzhen. He couldn’t get rid of the feeling that things weren’t quite right there. He had nothing specific to pin his unease on; it just worried him that it was so calm. He sensed danger but was frustrated that he couldn’t say exactly why. During his years as a triad, Uncle had always trusted his instincts. Now they were screaming that trouble was brewing. Stop being paranoid. You’re overthinking this. Concentrate on the racing form, he told himself several times, but after a few minutes his mind would drift back to Shenzhen.
He stayed at Sha Tin until the last race and left the track with a profit of eleven thousand HK dollars stuffed into his suit pockets. A win like that usually lifted his spirits, but he remained in a sombre mood as the taxi took him back to Fanling. The thought of going home to his apartment held no appeal, so he told the driver to take him to Dong’s Kitchen.
Dong’s was on San Wan Road, near the centre of Fanling. It specialized in Cantonese cuisine and served all-day dim sum. The house specialty was chicken feet marinated in a secret sauce that combined sweet, sour, and the sharp heat of some unknown chili. But as good as the food was, that wasn’t Uncle’s main reason for going there. On Wednesdays and Sundays Dong’s became one of the gang’s betting shops, and despite the competition from the Royal Hong Kong Jockey Club’s new outlet, it was managing to hold its own. Uncle attributed that to the talents of Tian Longwei, who had been running the operation for more than a decade. Uncle’s trip to Dong’s was motivated by a desire to talk to Tian, a man he trusted as much as Xu.
Tian had been Uncle’s triad mentor and sponsor. He was the uncle of Tam, one of Uncle’s friends who had made the swim from China with him in 1959. Tam had planned to join the triads as well, but he didn’t have the stomach for the life and quit after a few months. Luckily for Uncle, that was time enough for Tam to introduce Uncle to Tian and for the two men to become friends and, later, confidants. Tian was now semi-retired and worked only on race days. He was in his sixties, but if anything he looked older. His hair was completely white, his face was etched with deep lines, his cheeks were sunken, he bent over when he walked, and he had trouble getting to his feet from sitting. His arthritis gave him constant pain, though he claimed that a new medicine was making his life more bearable. Uncle had suggested more than once that Tian retire fully and come to Dong’s only when he wanted the company of colleagues. Tian always refused, saying that while his body was failing him, managing Dong’s betting operations kept his mind sharp, and he wasn’t about to give that up.
Dong’s was still crowded when Uncle arrived. Some horse players were watching race replays on the televisions, either reliving wins or dissecting losses, while others had stayed to eat. Uncle saw Tian at his usual table near the back of the restaurant, a stack of betting slips, an adding machine, and a notepad in front of him. Uncle knew the day’s cash returns were already stashed in the safe they’d installed in the restaurant owner’s office. As he walked towards Tian, a forty-niner standing next to him nudged him and said something.
Tian looked up and smiled. “Hey, boss, we haven’t seen you in here for a while,” he said.
“I was at Sha Tin, and on the way home I had this sudden urge for Dong’s chicken feet.”
“How did you do today?”
“I won about ten thousand.”
“Then I’m glad you gave them your business and not us,” Tian said.
“How did we do today?”
“We’re up about a hundred thousand.”
“How large was the handle?”
“We’re down a little bit from the same week last year, but it isn’t too bad.”
“That’s good to hear,” Uncle said. “You know I’m worried about the Jockey Club eating into our business.”
“We have a few advantages. I think our location is better, we’ve built trust with our players over the years, and, of course, you can’t get Dong’s food at the Jockey Club.”
Uncle pointed to the betting slips. “Are you almost finished with the day’s accounts?”
“Five minutes more should do it.”
“Can you join me for a beer and some dinner when you’re done?” asked Uncle.
“Of course. Grab a table.”
Uncle sat at a table off to one side, set against the wall.
Dong, the owner, ran over as soon as he saw him. He put down a pot of tea. “Uncle, it’s an honour to have you back,” he said. “Are you staying for dinner?”
“I’ll order something to eat when Tian joins me. For now I’ll have a San Miguel.”
Uncle’s first beer turned into a second as Tian’s five minutes turned into fifteen. Uncle didn’t mind waiting. There was something warm and welcoming about Dong’s, and he always felt relaxed when he was there. The air was aromatic, the servers were polite, pleasant, and attentive without being pushy or rushing a customer through a meal — traits not easily found in many Fanling restaurants — and then of course there was the food.
“Sorry, I had to recheck some numbers. I have a boss who gets pissed off when they don’t add up properly,” Tian said with a smile as he finally joined Uncle.
“Having numbers that add up properly sounds to me like a perfectly reasonable request for a boss to make, but that’s just my opinion,” Uncle said, returning the smile. “Do you want a beer?”
“No, I’d better stick to tea. I’m on medication that doesn’t react well with beer.”
“You seem to be moving a little more easily.”
“Not really, but it doesn’t hurt so much when I do move.”
“Can your medication handle Dong’s chicken feet?”
“If it couldn’t, I’d stop taking it,” Tian said. “I don’t have many pleasures left, and that’s one I value.”
Uncle held his arm in the air, which brought a server to the table. “A large portion of chicken feet with the secret sauce, an order of har gow, and some fried noodles with shrimp and scallops,” Uncle said.
Tian poured tea and raised his cup towards Uncle. “Good health and good luck,” he said.
“The same to you, my old friend.”
Tian sipped at his tea and then eyed Uncle. “So tell me, what is it that’s bothering you?”
“How do you know something is bothering me?”
“When you came through the door, you looked like the weight of the world was resting on those skinny shoulders of yours. I’ve seen that look too many times not to recognize it. In fact, the very first time we met, when Tam introduced us, you had it. I obviously knew what you’d gone through and didn’t need to ask why,” Tian said, “but today I don’t know. So tell me, what’s bothering my Mountain Master?”
“You know that I’ve put a lot of the gang’s resources into Shenzhen and to support Xu in Xiamen?”
“I do, although I know absolutely nothing about the details. I will say it caused a lot of talk at first, but all I hear now is how much money we’re making there.”
“It has been profitable, and the assets we have there are worth many times more than the money we put into them.”
“Then why are you concerned?”
“I’m afraid that the assets and the cash flow they provide could be at serious risk.”
“How? From whom?”
Uncle took a swig of beer and slowly shook his head. “That’s the problem. I don’t know, or maybe I should say I’m not sure.”
“You must have some idea or you wouldn’t have mentioned it in the first place.”
Uncle pause
d and pursed his lips, then shrugged. “Let me explain to you who we’re doing business with and what’s happened, and then you tell me if you think I should be worried.”
“You flatter me with your trust, but go ahead. I’ll listen as well as I can.”
“It started with the clothing factory Fong was doing business with,” Uncle began. Twenty minutes later he had finished. Meanwhile their food had arrived, but it remained untouched.
“That is a complicated situation,” Tian said. “Have you spoken to Zhang Delun about this Liu Leji?”
“I did around the time Leji approached me. Zhang confirmed that he had spoken to him about me and said some very complimentary things about him. He said Liu is a man to keep an eye on because he’s going to go far, and that I would be smart to associate myself with him.”
Tian nodded. He was the person who had introduced Uncle to Zhang and had mentored them both during the initial stages of their establishing a working relationship. “I’m impressed if Zhang thinks that much of him.”
“It isn’t Liu who’s my main concern, it’s his aunt.”
“So you’ve explained,” Tian said, plucking a har gow from its basket. He ate the shrimp dumpling slowly and then took a chicken foot.
Uncle followed suit, his mood starting to improve as he saw how unperturbed Tian was by the recitation.
Both men ate until the chicken feet and har gow were gone and only a small cluster of noodles was left. Tian poured more tea, offered Uncle a Marlboro, and then lit both of their cigarettes. “Returning to your problem,” Tian said, “it seems to me that at this very moment you really don’t have one. All our businesses are operating as usual. None of our people or your partners have been detained or even spoken to. It sounds like this guy Peng and his friend Lau were out of control. You can’t do what they did and then flaunt it so blatantly not to have the system slam you — especially a system that’s supposedly opposed to anyone getting too far out in front of the pack.”
“I know that’s logical, and it’s how Liu feels,” Uncle said. “I also haven’t heard much from him or Xu, or anyone else on the mainland, since Peng was arrested. If there was trouble, I know someone would have contacted me.”
“Then why are you so worried?”
“I’m actually feeling less worried now.”
“Ah, the power of Dong’s chicken feet.”
“No, the power of your ability to listen and provide perspective,” Uncle said.
“If you don’t mind me saying, you’ve always had a tendency to overthink things instead of trusting your instincts, and you have very good instincts. What are your instincts telling you about Liu?”
“He’ll stay the course with us.”
“How about his aunt? Has she cut and run?”
“She’s nervous, and after everything she and her husband have gone through, who can blame her? But now that I think about it, she’s been back in Beijing for three days now and hasn’t followed up with a request to transfer their money out of our accounts.”
“That’s a good sign.”
“That’s a very good sign,” Uncle said, finishing his beer. “I know I overthink things, but sometimes I get an idea in my head and I can’t get rid of it. I’m like a dog chasing its tail, just running in circles. That’s why I came here. Ideas that seem sensible in my head seem different when I talk about them out loud. You know, you and Xu are the only two people I feel I can say anything to. I don’t know what I’m going to do if he ends up in Shanghai or if you ever retire.”
“Do you want to know when I will retire?”
“You have a date in mind?”
“Yes. The day I die,” Tian said with a laugh.
The two friends left the restaurant together, Tian’s arm looped through Uncle’s for support. They caught a taxi, and ten minutes later Uncle dropped off Tian at his apartment and continued on to his own. He went immediately upstairs, walked directly over to his chair, and picked up the phone. Despite — or maybe because of — telling Tian that not hearing from Liu, Xu, and Tse indicated all was well, it had sparked a need for confirmation. In rapid succession, he phoned them. Tse was in Kowloon but had spoken to his manager in Zhuhai, and the factory was operating as usual. Xu had just finished dinner in Xiamen with two of their partners in the leather business and reported that there had been no disruptions. Finally he called Liu.
“Uncle, do we have a problem?” Liu asked abruptly after he’d answered.
“No, and I know we agreed we wouldn’t communicate unless there was one, but curiosity got the better of me about what’s going on in Shenzhen.”
“As far as I know, nothing has changed since the last time we spoke, but I have been keeping my ear to the ground. In fact, I spoke to a contact in the justice department this morning and got an update. If I’m interpreting what he said properly, this corruption sweep will start and end with Peng and Lau.”
“What will happen to Peng?”
“He’s been formally charged with corruption against the state. He’s scheduled to be tried this Wednesday evening.”
“How long will the trial last?”
“If he pleads guilty — which he would be smart to do — it will last less than an hour. If he disputes the charges, it could on for a few hours more. Either way, it will be over by Wednesday.”
“That’s a real rush to judgement,” Uncle said.
“Why prolong things when the outcome is so obvious? And as far as I’m concerned, the faster it’s done, the better it is for us.”
“I’m not disputing that,” Uncle said. “What kind of sentence will he get?”
“If he pleads guilty, he can expect a fifteen- to twenty-year jail term. If he doesn’t, he could end up on his knees with a gun pointing at the back of his head.”
“So as far as we’re concerned, it’s business as usual?”
“I see no reason to think otherwise,” Liu said.
“What does your aunt have to say?”
“I was actually going to call you tomorrow to talk about her,” Liu said. “She, Meilin, and I spent an hour on the phone this morning going over the warehouse expansion plans.”
“You still want to move ahead with those plans?”
“We do, and no one is keener than my aunt.”
“That is most reassuring to hear.”
“Uncle, I know you weren’t pleased when she told you she wanted to move our money out of the business accounts.”
“I wasn’t displeased,” Uncle said. “It is your money, and you can do what you want with it.”
“It was a knee-jerk reaction on her part. She’s had three days to think about what happened here, she’s spoken to my uncle, and she’s decided to maintain the status quo.”
“So now she doesn’t want me to transfer the money?”
“Perhaps a modest amount, and there’s no urgency about doing it immediately. She’ll talk to you about it when she comes back to Shenzhen.”
“When will that be?”
“She doesn’t know yet. She wants to be absolutely certain that no further repercussions come out of the Peng affair.”
“And Meilin?”
“She’ll come when my aunt does.”
“What do you think I should do about Fong?” Uncle asked.
“Do you absolutely need him to be in Shenzhen right now?”
“No, he can stay in touch by phone for at least a couple of weeks.”
“That would be prudent. Let things settle. We can co-ordinate his return with my aunt’s.”
“I agree. I’ll talk to him tomorrow,” Uncle said. “And Liu, the next time you speak to your aunt, please pass along to her my appreciation for the trust she’s showing in our partnership.”
“Was it ever in doubt?” Liu asked.
“No, of course not,” Uncle said.
Uncle put
down the phone and drew a deep breath. The stress he’d felt at the Sha Tin Racecourse had started to ebb while he was at Dong’s. Now it was almost entirely gone and he felt his body sag in reaction. He reached into the fridge for a San Miguel. All that worrying for no reason. I’ll sleep well tonight, he thought.
( 19 )
Uncle slept well, rose at his usual hour, had congee at Jia’s, and was at his desk by seven-thirty, going over the weekend accounts. The night street markets — now selling fake designer bags and Rolex watches as well as a wide variety of Ming Garment Factory clothes — had increased sales and profits. On a year-to-year basis, business at their restaurants and massage parlours was flat. The mini-casinos — typically one roulette wheel, a couple of baccarat tables, and a large room for mah-jong — had had a strong weekend, but wagers on the Sha Tin races at the betting shops were well behind those from the year before. Tian had been right that the Dong’s takings had slipped by only a bit, but the other shops were down almost twenty-five percent.
At ten o’clock Uncle left the office and walked to a bakery across the street, where he bought a coconut bun and a bottle of mango juice. When he returned, he found Fong in conversation with his deputy Straw Sandal.
“You’re back early,” Uncle said to Fong.
“I took the midnight jetfoil.”
“The mama-san didn’t object to your skipping out?”
“I looked after her before I left. Besides, we’ve never spent three whole days together before, and I think we were getting tired of each other.”
“How did you do at the tables?”
“I’d rather not talk about it.”
Uncle smiled and shrugged. “Do you want to share my bun and juice?”
“I’ll have some bun, thanks. Let me get a tea and then I’ll join you in your office.”