The interests of her more recent local suitors had rarely extended beyond their own ambitions for self-betterment in Maklai. They were primarily attracted to Win-Kham because she clearly had a steady income, to which they would have full access once the monks had made their blessings. The potential husbands either wanted to marry a woman with a well-paid job so that they wouldn’t have to get one of their own, or so that they had more money to pay for their drinking. Social progression for men in Maklai meant getting drunk with a slightly higher level of business or administrative stratum than you previously aspired to get drunk with. The marginal economics of cronyism then gradually played out. Nobody really tried to dream big.
Ms Win-Kham looked back on her dalliances with the opposite sex as rather un-inspirational. Until now, and much to her mother’s disappointment, the lack of sensible options had caused Win-Kham to remain staunchly independent and single. She had intelligence and ambition. She wasn’t going to compromise her success and achievement to settle for a man from Maklai who would expect multiple children and her undying patience and acceptance when he either came home drunk or not at all. She wasn’t saving herself for love, but she was saving herself for a better opportunity. That opportunity might just be the new manager of the Maklai bank and his navy blue tie.
In Mr Hua Lin, Ms Win-Kham saw a man with ambition. He was like her, looking for a way to get up a ladder that had been designed for someone with better connections than his own. Men with ambition didn’t stick around for long in places like Maklai. Soon enough they gravitated back to their socially-charged lives in the big city. It was rare for someone from the capital to come out to the provinces, which already made Hua Lin stand out in terms of his ambitions, but also, for the astute observer like Ms Win-Kham, it showed his vulnerability and lack of connections. Ms Win-Kham would need to make sure that when Hua Lin did eventually achieve his goal and return to the city for the next rung on the ladder of his career, her claws were sunk in deep enough to ensure she was carried back with him. She knew better than to assume she would be able to seduce him. People like Hua Lin had been to enough Khoyleng parties to know what their options were, both in terms of girlfriends and marriage. Girlfriends were for fun, and marriage was a financial investment to bring together influential families or build businesses. Ms Win-Kham was too old to be in the first category and insufficiently enriched in social standing and wealth to enable her to qualify for the second. However, there were other means of getting what she wanted. She would start by gaining his trust. This would be the beginning of a relationship between them, and by whatever means available she would become indispensable to him. Like a piece of particularly stringy chicken from a cling-film wrapped plate at the Sou-Rehn restaurant and the gap between her upper left incisors, the two would eventually become inseparable.
17. Meehor
By 2pm Kheng was quite looking forward to the arrival of Mr Meebor. He was starting to develop a strong sense of camaraderie with the new team. It was all very friendly. Kheng had begun to feel important, like he was the senior guard, handing down his wealth of experience to the new blood. He’d always cherished the solitude that the job had given him over the past years. This was particularly the case after the lack of privacy from the communal life of soldiering through his career, interspersed with the chaos of a large family. After his time in the army he’d appreciated the opportunity of some solitude to regroup a little and come to terms with some of the emotional stresses that the conflict had left him with. However, after seven years of quiet time, the new guarding system had added a new dimension and a bit of human interaction to his routine without it having to get too out of hand. He was on the brink of appreciating the arrival of Mr Hua Lin to their quiet little town and providing him with this new social element in his life.
Meebor sauntered through the gates at about ten past the hour, and gave a cheery wave as he did so.
“Afternoon, Mr Kheng.”
“Afternoon, Mr Meebor. How did it all go yesterday?”
“Good, Mr Kheng. Very good. That thing with the storm drain is a handy little manoeuvre. Reminds me of the days when I used to be a burglar. I was always crawling through gaps in fences, holes in the eaves of people’s roofs, under chicken coops with a small saw so I could make a hole in the floor and reach through to steal the eggs. You never get those wonderful days of your youth back again, do you, Mr Kheng? It’s the price of getting older, that’s what they say.”
Meebor stretched out his arm so he could lean against the wall of the bank and let out a deep sigh as he wallowed in his reverie.
“That is quite true, Mr Meebor. It’s only when we get older that we realise these things are passing us by.”
Kheng tried to add a slightly surprised tone to his voice but not too much. The surprise was not for his new awareness of Meebor’s criminal past, but more at how freely Meebor wanted to talk about it with someone he barely knew. There was a limit to how much Kheng really wanted to know, and that limit had already been crossed. There were certain things that Kheng was happy to be ignorant about.
“Of course it’s been a while since I did anything like that, Mr Kheng. All that thieving and carry on. The wife would beat me to within an inch of my life if she thought I’d started up again. It’s all very well for the family when the burglaring is going to plan and no one catches up with you. Once you’re put away inside for a bit it’s then much harder on them. The wife had to work all hours to make ends meet when I was locked up in the slammer, and she has never let me forget it. Anyways, it seems that’s all far behind me now. Looks like I’ve finally landed a good honest job.”
Kheng was not particularly surprised by this new and openly shared information from his colleague. The modern history in their country of Feiquon had seen its share of tough and volatile times. Sometimes people did what they had to if they wanted to make it through, if only to find enough to eat. You can’t always keep playing a straight die if the whole game is already rigged against you.
“So did Mr Hua Lin ask you about your past when he hired you?”
“No, not really. Well, yes. At times. Although he was mostly obsessing about thieves climbing the walls. But for my history, I made up a bit of the answers, and then focused more about the time I’d worked at the saw mill. I decided not to bring up the years in prison unless he specifically asked me a prison question. No specific questions about time in prison came up in the interview. He asked me to give the number for a reference of someone that I knew who he’d think was responsible. I gave a few, and then he phoned up Mr Videt the village head from our part of town. However, the old man is a relative of my wife, so he would never say anything bad to stop the family getting some income. Anyway, it’s not as if I ever killed anyone or anything like that. If having a criminal record for that sort of thing counted against you, it’d be more of a surprise that they gave Mr Salt the job. Mind you, he did his time, sixteen years they say, so now he deserves a clean slate the same as the rest of us. Look out. That’s Mr Navey. I see he’s back in again, making another deposit. Twice in two days that is. He must be making some serious money.”
“Sorry, what do you mean?”
“Well, I guess it’s the ol’ burglar in me. But sitting here, watching who are coming and going from the bank, how often they are here, how well they are dressed, their jewellery, what they drive. Well, within a few weeks I’ll have a pretty good profile of everyone in town worth stealing from. I’ll know who’s got enough cash on them to be using the bank a lot, what days they get their money out, when would be a good time to break in to their house. You know, that sort of thing. Lucky for them I’ve gone straight really. Anyway, it passes the time.”
Kheng’s request for extra information had been more aimed at the ‘Mr Salt’ element of the conversation. The reference to Salt’s sixteen years inside was intriguing. However, he decided to let it go. He’d never been one for gossip. That was his wife’s job and it soon became very tedious. It was as well not to p
rise out gossip about one of your colleagues with other members of the team. Mr Salt would no doubt tell him about it eventually, if he wanted him to know.
“Anyway, Mr Kheng. I see the plastic chair is still here. You’ve got the torch? It was handy for getting through the concrete pipes on the way to dinner yesterday evening.”
Kheng handed over the torch, noted down the subtle shift of responsibility for the valuable items in the text book, and then handed that over to Meebor as well.
“We’ll take the patrol of the compound as read then, Mr Kheng?”
Kheng shrugged.
“Why not?”
After all, Kheng was rapidly learning that there was already a far higher percentage of the criminal underworld being paid to stay inside the compound of the bank than would ever be on the outside trying to get in.
18. The Evening Shift
A week after the new shift-work was introduced, Kheng was moved to the afternoon–evening time slot. Meebor got the early shift and Salt had stayed on the night shift. Mr Hua Lin had explained about some employment law about sleep deprivation so that night shift workers had to have the same routine for four weeks. It made very little sense to Kheng, especially with the knowledge that the night shift was having very little impact on anybody’s sleeping pattern. However, the move to the afternoons would be a pleasant change for a number of reasons, so he didn’t make a fuss. Firstly the hours were more sociable with no early starts or being out all night. For social interaction, it was the best of both worlds as there were a couple of hours in the afternoon when people were around, and then when the bank closed at four he had the place to himself. Surprisingly, a third reason that he was pleased to get the afternoon shift was to get the evening update from Mr Tann. Kheng had spent a week of providing the morning weather forecast, but had completely missed out on Mr Tann’s afternoon summary of the latest news. Meebor had been on the afternoon shift, but had been fairly ineffectual at extracting interesting closing time information from the head clerk. Any titbits he did glean were then edited down for Mr Salt, who would forget most of it by the next morning for Kheng’s third-hand news. It was therefore with a high degree of enthusiasm that Kheng greeted Mr Tann outside the door of the bank.
“Afternoon, Mr Tann. It’s been a while since I said that. This shift-work is quite a change, modernisation, eh? How’s everything at the bank today?”
“Oh, don’t ask…”
Mr Tann sighed deeply. Kheng patiently stood by and watched the aging clerk rifle through the keys to find the one that locked the main door. Kheng knew that whenever someone says ‘don’t ask’ it means they are probably desperate for you to patiently listen so they can unburden their soul to you.
“Mr Hua Lin is following the ‘regulations’ again.”
Kheng listened attentively knowing there was more to come.
“He says every provincial branch of the bank is supposed to have a minimum amount of cash on hand. It’s in the rule book from Khoyleng headquarters that we’re all supposed to follow. That way, if there is a big event or a festival or we’re cut off by flooding or something then we won’t run out of money and disappoint the customers. It’s supposed to help to make sure that we don’t lose any important clients. Problem is of course that we don’t have space for that much cash. The safe is twenty-five years old. One of the ones with the combination lock and the thick metal doors. Ol’ Papa Han had it installed a few years after he started, and the only people who used the bank in those days were the government departments. We just don’t have the space. We’ve got cash sitting around on the floor in bags next to the safe because we can’t fit them inside, for goodness’ sake!”
Mr Tann shook his head with a ‘what dark days are these’ expression. Kheng responded with a similar act of mimicked despair.
“Anyway, Mr Tann. Nearly the weekend now.”
“Is it? My brother’s coming to visit at the weekend. Damn. His wife has the most annoying laugh. I think she’s a bit simple minded. Annoying. Can you imagine the amount of paperwork it takes to order a new safe from head office, and all the signatures to get the request approved. They want to see a ‘design’ as well as the request document. It’ll be weeks before we get this sorted out!”
With that Mr Tann shuffled out of the bank and wobbled his way across the bridge of planks that traversed the concrete storm drains that were still patiently waiting for the road team to return and bury them properly.
Kheng watched him go. He could see his frustration. Change was all well and good but sometimes patience was called for. It was something young men like Mr Hua Lin didn’t always appreciate.
19. Important Clients
Mr Hua Lin had initially assumed that Papa Han, his predecessor, had been a redundant part of the furnishings in the bank for much of his tenure. However, now that he had been in the job for a few weeks, Hua Lin was gradually beginning to appreciate that Old Papa Han had subtly contributed to the bank in a way that Hua Lin was struggling to do. It was not through anything specific that the old man had actually done of course. It was more about who he was. He was ‘old school’. Hua Lin was becoming increasingly aware of the value that being part of the establishment held in a small province like Maklai. Papa Han had been running the bank for twenty-something years, and had been working there for even longer. His family had always been influential in the town. As a younger man, Papa Han had transferred from the bank to serve in the army. As soon as a degree of normality had returned to the country, the provincial authorities had rewarded Papa Han’s service with the position of manager at the provincial bank. Of course it was completely government-run back in those days. Recruitment was all about connections. Papa Han had got his job based on his community standing, his war record, and the connections and the respect that he had developed. He had then run the bank based on the same principles. Even though new banks had appeared in recent years, the high-rolling clients in the province stayed with the Khoyleng Bank because Papa Han was, and always had been, one of them. The management in Khoyleng had failed to appreciate the full value of this in a place like Maklai, and Mr Hua Lin was only just starting to understand as well.
In the short time that Hua Lin had been in charge a couple of important clients had already taken their money elsewhere. Now that loyalty, shared history, family connections and nationalistic camaraderie were less of a priority, high interest rates took precedence. Mr Hua Lin’s managers in Khoyleng had expressed their concern at the loss of these highly important customers. They had sternly instructed him to get control over the problem of the diminishing loyalty of the long standing clientele, and to start looking after the bank’s interests.
The strategy for pursuing loyalty in Maklai was not a complicated one. However, it did take time and resources. Mr Hua Lin found that he was taking important clients out for drinks most evenings in his efforts to entertain and garner respect. This inevitably meant ending up in karaoke bars until the early hours as there were very few nightlife options in Maklai. Hua Lin wasn’t unaccustomed to burning the candle at both ends whilst in the capital, but that was with his mates, not as work. To gain influential friends and forge alliances in Maklai he had to be both sozzled and retain an unblemished reputation at the same time. It was all quite exhausting. There were no early nights when you were taking out important businessmen on drinking binges, and he still had to come in each morning and manage the bank.
It was a constant fight to perform his day job adequately whilst impressing the top brass in Khoyleng with his client management. It meant that he was living well beyond his means, and was rapidly eating into his meagre savings considerably. He calculated that his finances could maintain the lavish, if undesired, lifestyle for about another three weeks before he was totally bankrupt. To his credit, Mr Hua Lin had managed to befriend a number of the provincial elite that held some of the bigger accounts at the bank, but this was small by comparison with the number he would need on his side to ensure the bank maintained its client base.
He was starting to panic a little. The cushy little side step to the provinces to boost his career was not playing out as he had hoped.
To address the duel challenges of sleep deprivation and bankruptcy, Hua Lin decided that he had two choices. The first was to fast track his way into Maklai provincial society. The traditional route for this option was to court an available daughter of one of the bigger account holders with government influence. A recently come of age unspoken for young woman would need to be identified and then pursued relentlessly. However, this was a long-term plan in relation to his rapidly dwindling finances. He would need considerable capital in order to impress such an eligible young lady and convince her that he was of an equal standing. His gifts and exuberant gestures were not only expected by her but by the parents as well if he was to show he had what it took to be a prominent man in an extended family.
The second option was to seek additional money without having to marry it. He didn’t want a loan, interest rates were high, even if you worked at the bank. Also, he didn’t want his bosses to see that he was struggling to manage his own money, let alone that of the bank. There was certainly no way he could go and borrow money from a rival bank in Maklai. That would destroy any reputation that he’d worked so hard to build. What he needed was some kind of benefactor, or a piece of incredibly good luck. It seemed crazy that he could be in charge of so much money at the bank, and yet working for that same bank was rapidly spiralling him into poverty. Ideally the bank should be paying for his expenses when entertaining the clients. However, that was an argument that he would never win. Papa Han had never needed to claim vast expenses to keep hold of their big accounts. If Hua Lin now claimed it was necessary, then the management in Khoyleng would just conclude they’d picked the wrong man for the job.
The Feiquon Heist Page 8