by Tony Davies
Good cop, bad cop
The school system in Hong Kong closes in July and August and most expatriates take their annual vacation at this time. It is always a long, hot month with temperatures in the thirties and only the occasional rainstorm to help break the monotony of the oppressive heat. Mack usually took the opportunity to visit his family in Guildford, but he had decided to postpone his trip until later in the year.
Mack had a meeting with Westminster at 3pm. On arriving in Central he sensed for the first time that year there was a little less vibrancy in the general demeanor of the area’s work force as they rushed around the crowded streets. There still seemed to be as many expats as usual, but they, like the Chinese, seemed to have tired of the heat. He assumed they were wishing they were sat in their air‐conditioned offices or already on vacation rather than rushing to another meeting.
On arriving at Westminster’s office he was shown by a different, but equally attractive, receptionist to what appeared to be an interview room. He wondered how many receptionists they had on their staff and whether a prerequisite for the position was to be a drop-dead gorgeous model. Somehow he couldn’t see Lindy agreeing to the expense if he put that proposal to her.
A few minutes later Weston and Bent came into the room and Mack noticed immediately that the cordial atmosphere of the previous meeting had been replaced by an altogether different approach. They shook hand briefly and he gave them an update of the progress to date.
After Mack had finished talking Bent looked at him coolly and complained in an indignant tone “What do you mean the officer investigating Chan’s death believes there is a connection with you? How did he find that out so quickly?”
Mack held his eyes for a few moments before replying slowly “Because, as I said, my business card was found on the dining table in his apartment. The obvious question is why was it was there. I have never met him and he had no reason to have one of my cards.”
“Then who gave it to him? There must be a reason.”
Mack had been in enough similar situations in the past not to take the bait and he wondered whether Bent’s performance was for his or Weston’s benefit. He assumed it had to be for his. A professional operator like Bent didn’t need to impress his employer with petulant displays.
Mack took a deep breath before replying “That is something I intend to find out. In the meantime I have simply told the police I have never met or had contact with Stephen Chan and have no idea why he had my business card. All of which is true. What time were you told of Chan’s death?”
Bent replied “Just before lunch. The police rang and told us he had been found dead and they wanted to set up a meeting to speak to someone here. You are not the only one with friends in the police so it wasn’t hard for me to find out exactly what had happened.
“And another thing, this came this morning in a brown envelope, addressed to me. We checked, there are no prints. The security cameras show someone of average height in a white t‐shirt and blue jeans pushing it under the door at 5.45 am. He had a motorcycle helmet on and was in and out within seconds. Before you ask, the security people down stairs didn’t check the person in.” Bent was clearly angry over the security lapse and Mack had no doubt someone was going to pay dearly for that.
Bent then handed Mack a 10cm x 8cm photograph showing Steve Chan and Lee Wai sitting at a table talking. Mack could just make out what appeared to be a Starbucks logo on one of the paper cups on the table. On the back of the photograph was typed ‘They look like a nice couple. We have lots more and they are much more interesting.’
Mack put the photo back on the table. Whilst it certainly proved they knew each other, it didn’t prove they were having a homosexual affair. The meeting could have been innocent enough, just two guys having a conversation over coffee in a public place.
Weston had not spoken since Mack had arrived. Mack wasn’t sure why, but he assumed it was a ‘good cop, bad cop’ routine. Bent was to be the bad cop, leaving Weston to build the relationship as the good cop. The assumption proved correct.
Weston got up from his seat and began pacing around the room. “We have lost a valued team member and until we know whether it was an accident or not I suppose we shouldn’t jump to conclusions. Should we go to the police and lay everything out or can we delay doing that until we have got to the bottom of the allegation?”
His tone was conciliatory and seemed sincere. Mack reminded himself that you didn’t build an organization like Westminster without having the capacity to charm people when it was necessary.
Mack’s response was slow and measured when he said “If my former colleagues know about the allegation, and I am not going to say affair yet, then it will move it up at least another notch and you will have everyone crawling all over Westminster. I assume that is the last thing you want.
“Someone from your company has to meet them, but it doesn’t have to be either of you. My advice is to let your personnel department handle it initially. If the police classify it as murder we can consider our options then. Until then let’s proceed as if it was an accident.
“Is there anything I need to know about the Paradise Cove project that may affect this case? Something you didn’t mention in our first meeting?”
Weston stepped in to answer before Bent could speak. “I told you everything you need to know. At least everything that is relevant. We are not deliberately trying to hide something from you. We want this resolved, remember? I can’t believe Chan was murdered in connection with the project, why would anyone go to that length?”
At this stage Mack knew far too little to speculate on exactly what the ultimate game plan was. It was time to tread carefully and not jump to conclusions.
Mack looked at Weston as he said “I don’t think we should jump to conclusions that this is all about derailing the project. Of course, it may be, but it may also be a simple case of extortion, who knows. Until they contact you again with a specific demand we have no way of knowing.
“We first need to confirm whether the allegation is true or not. I have a feeling that they have a lot more evidence, probably a lot of it circumstantial. It is interesting why they are drip feeding you the info without indicating what they want. Still, that might change at any minute and we will then have a clear picture of what we are dealing with. As for me, I was hired to find out whether the allegation was true or not. Once that has been achieved my task will have been completed and then it is up to you decide how you move forward and whether you want my involvement further.”
“Mack, that is fine with us. Let’s stick with your original brief. Find out if the allegation is true, then we can decide what to do next.” said Weston.
…………………………………………………………………………………………………
After he had left Weston’s office Mack walked to Holly Brown’s in Stanley Street. The coffee shop was almost empty when he got there and he received his usual greeting from the manager, a friend of his who had been running it for the past two years. He saw Lindy sitting at a table waiting for him. She looked fresh and radiant and he marveled how some people always seem to appear cool even on the hottest days. Unfortunately he was not one of them and he was glad to be in the air‐conditioned surroundings.
Mack ordered a regular coffee and sat down next to her. Lindy had made some progress regarding Stephen Chan’s living arrangements. The Land Registry showed the owner of his apartment as a Hong Kong company called Better Holdings Limited. Lindy had tracked down the owner of the company and, posing as a sales agent enquiring as to whether he wanted to sell or rent his apartment, she had been told that Pleasure Realty handled the property for him and that all enquiries should be directed to them.
Lindy’s next call was to the lettings manager of Pleasure Realty, this time posing as a potential tenant. She said she was interested in renting in Chan’s apartment block and had been told an apartment was becoming available due to a recent bereavement. Chinese are
reluctant to move into an apartment if the occupant has recently died as they think the property brought bad luck to that person and may bring equally bad luck to them. The agent couldn’t believe his luck when he was told that she couldn’t care less about that, what did someone dying have to do with her living there?
A few hours after the phone call Lindy was stood in front of Enson Wu, a young energetic property agent who keen to secure a commission for himself. He explained that they wouldn’t be able to secure access to the apartment for at least another week, but since she was familiar with the block and all the apartments were configured the same did she really need to see inside it before she decided whether to take it?
Lindy went along with the suggestion, explained in a demure manner befitting a young single Chinese girl that there was one problem. She was on a tight budget and wanted to be absolutely certain she was not paying above market rate as the rent being asked for seemed a little high for building. His reply was that she was getting the apartment at the same rent as the previous tenant played right into her hands. When she requested to see the previous tenant’s agreement he readily produced it and she could see the tenant’s name was Allnow Holdings Ltd and the company’s registered address was in the Cayman Islands. The signature on the agreement was illegible. Attached to the agreement was a receipt for the rental bond and a copy of a cheque drawn on the International Bank of Cayman. Again, the signature was illegible.
After spending a few more minutes with the agent Lindy promised him she would get back to him after she had discussed it with her father and quickly left to head back to her office. While disappointed not to have closed the deal, Enson wasn’t too unhappy at the prospect of calling Lindy in the coming days to follow up on her, and his, interest.
Lindy’s next step was to try to trace the owners of Allnow. The central registry in Cayman would not release the details and her primary source in Hong Kong couldn’t help either. Through Mack’s friendship with the owner of the biggest offshore company provider in Hong Kong she was often able to identify a Cayman or BVI company’s owner when she really needed to. Mack didn’t like to abuse the friendship, but would occasionally agree to make the request when it was deemed vital to a case. On this occasion she had been told they had no record and another firm must have formed the company.
As she had expected, the bank in question had refused to release the name of the account’s beneficial owner. Despite being frustrated at her lack of real progress, she reminded herself it was why people set up Cayman companies and bank accounts. They valued their privacy and didn’t want people like Lindy poking around in their affairs.
The news didn’t come as a surprise to Mack, but at least they had checked that avenue and it was another box that could be ticked off. He wondered why an analyst like Stephen Chan would go to the trouble of using an untraceable Cayman Islands company to rent an apartment. Most people would rent it in their own name or through a Hong Kong registered company. Using an offshore one was unusual to say the least, paying the bond with a cheque drawn on an offshore account even more so.
Mack responded to Lindy’s resourcefulness by saying “That was good work. Well done. I think its time we met Chan’s family. He had my business card and we have been questioned by the police. I think it’s reasonable that we approach them and ask if they knew why he had it. I doubt they will know, but no harm in trying. The timing is awful, but sometimes that can’t be avoided. I don’t want to call them first, just give me their address. They might wonder how I found out where they live, but I can always tell them the truth, that finding them was easy when you have the best researcher in Hong Kong in your team.”
“Thank you. And I agree. Yes, you are a lucky man for having me in your team.”
Mack waited for her to laugh and when she didn’t he wasn’t sure how he should respond. That often happened with Lindy. She then told him “They live in South Horizons, block 17, apartment 21b. Good luck.”
Chapter twelve
The family
Mack walked to the Central bus terminal and boarded the 90b bus to South Horizons in the south of the island. The bus was nearly empty and he sat on the upper deck, well away from other passengers. His friends often mocked him over his use of public transport as most ex‐pats used taxis, which were plentiful and relatively cheap. It wasn’t a question of money, he found it enjoyable sitting in an air-conditioned bus taking in the sights of Hong Kong.
The bus made its way through the Aberdeen tunnel with little delay and fifteen minutes later he was in South Horizons. As he got off the bus he marveled at how developers in Hong Kong had created whole towns in the most unlikely of places.
South Horizons was on Ap Lei Chau, which was a small island connected by a bridge of a hundred or so yards in length to the much larger Hong Kong Island. Cheung Kong, one of the biggest property developers in the former colony, had bought the site from government and alongside the existing low cost government accommodation had created a community comprising thirty blocks with forty floors per block. At eight apartments per floor Mack told himself it was the size of a small town in the UK. It had been built in the early nineties and attracted middle-class Chinese and a smattering of expats.
He looked at the buildings, which had started to lose their new build appearance and were now just like lots of the other numerous and nondescript residential buildings built over the past twenty years. There was a sign pointing to the development’s swimming pools and another to the tennis courts. A shopping complex stood off to one size and the main entrance sign told visitors it had over forty retailers operating there. In Mack’s mind the development had everything an owner or tenant could want in terms of convenience but there was something missing. He wasn’t sure if it was character or an identity but there was definitely something missing. Perhaps it just lacked a soul.
He made his way to the entrance of block 17, which faced the Lamma Channel and pressed the intercom button to speak to the resident of apartment 21b. When no‐one answered he decided to wait a few minutes before heading back to Wanchai. He knew that going there without an appointment was always going to be risky, people weren’t always at home after all.
A couple of minutes later three people walked up to the entrance. Mack was stood off to one side and saw that one of them, a not unattractive Chinese woman in her early thirties knew the door pass code which she pressed to open the main door. She then stood back for the other two, an elderly couple in their sixties to walk through.
The man walked very slowly and looked as if a profound sadness had enveloped him and was forcing the last breaths from his body. The elderly woman stood alongside him held his arm to steady him as he walked. She seemed frail and broken, as if waiting for her life to end.
Mack nodded to them as he followed them into the building. He walked behind them into the lift and was not surprised to see them press the button for the 21st floor. As the lift ascended he turned to the elderly man and said in Cantonese.
“Mr. Chan, please forgive me for coming to see you without calling you first. My name is John Mackworth and I am here in connection with your son Stephen’s death.
Mack was about to say something further when the lift stopped. As the man got out of the lift he replied in Cantonese “You must have been a policeman once, your accent is almost perfect, you could pass for a local or at least someone from the mainland. But I am sure other people have told you that before. What do you want Mr. Mackworth? And please speak to me in English”
“Yes, I was a policeman once. Now I have a private investigation business. Let me first offer you and your family my condolences and I am very sorry to trouble you at this difficult time. Stephen had my card at his home, do you know if he was in any sort of trouble?”
The man looked at Mack for a moment and replied “I have no idea why he had it and he never mentioned your name to me. Perhaps someone gave it to him by mistake? Stephen drowned accidentally and nothing will be gained by you asking questions about him.
”
“No-one is sure of the circumstances surrounding your son’s death and the police may take a little while to find out exactly what happened. He may or may not have been in some sort of trouble. He may or may not have felt he needed my help. But he had my card for a reason. I am a naturally curious person so I would like to find out why he had it. If you do not wish to talk about this then of course I will leave.”
The old man looked at Mack and seemed uncertain what to do. After a few moments he said “You are most polite Mr. Mackworth and forgive me. This is such a terrible shock. Please come in and I will tell you what little I know.”
The younger woman opened the door to a nicely furnished room with traditional Chinese prints on each of the walls and a view across the Lamma channel. Mack was shown to a small dining table and all four of them sat down. He noted that neither of the women had spoken to him yet. He assumed the younger woman was Stephen’s sister. As he considered this, the older woman stood up and went to the small kitchen.
The older man sounded weary when he said “My wife is making us some tea. The police asked if I knew you. They didn’t say why of course. I told them I had never heard of you. Which is the truth. What sort of investigations do you do?”