by Tony Davies
“Call me Sam. Long term, short term, whatever client wants. It’s all business. What work you do?”
“I have a trading company. We specialize in sourcing specific products, which our overseas clients want. Not a difficult business to run, but it does need loyalty and discretion.”
“Why is that?”
“Well, sometimes they don’t want people to know where the product was made, other times the product is a little unusual and may not be easy to obtain. Whatever the clients want I try to provide, for a price of course.”
“Of course, everything for a price. How you know me?”
“A friend told me you made promotional CDs and would use discretion if required. That is true isn’t it?”
“Everything for a price. What type of CD you want?”
“Well, let’s just say a very adult CD. My client plans to distribute it through private channels overseas. You would be very well paid for producing it.”
“No problem, how much the fee?”
“That will be for you to say. Whatever is fair and reasonable.” “Me not know you. How you find out about me?”
“I know someone else in your industry but not for the type of CD I want. His name is Herman Wong and he did a CD for a client of mine a few years ago.”
“Yeah, I know him. I call him now.”
Ng then reached across the desk for his mobile phone. He got up and walked to the door and stepped out into the hallway. Mack looked out of the office window and remained perfectly calm.
A few moments later Ng returned and seemed quite pleased with himself. “Ok he say he know you. You no problem guy.”
Mack smiled inwardly, but his face showed no emotion. After his meeting with Don he had realized that he needed another avenue to gain access to the La Bohemm/Stephen Chan connection. After discussing it with Lindy, he had spoken to Herman Wong and called in the favor he had told him he would one day need from him. The debt was now fully repaid.
“Ok, what you mean by adult?” asked Ng in a business like manner. “Why your client not do it overseas?”
“It needs to be homosexual, but not just two guys together. He specifically wants some young boys in it. As I, it is going to be a very adult film, hard core, which is why I came to you. Can you do it?”
“Depends on fee – I provide two boys, Chinese, say 11 or 12. OK? And two men, Gweilo or Chinese, doesn’t matter. You choose. One price. 30,000 US.” NG waited for a reaction and Mack whistled softly.
“My client wants to get a CD made, he doesn’t want to buy a movie studio. I should be in your business.”
“You need boys, you come to me. You pay price. No problem. Your client make money out of CD. We have deal?”
“I want to be at the filming and we pay nothing until the CD is produced. You don’t get to keep a copy. We will pay you cash before we leave the studio. How long will you need to set it up?”
“A few days. I call your office when ready. You had better be real. I no want to go to trouble to do all this and then you change mind or not pay me. You bring cash with you.”
Mack looked at him and smiled. “Don’t worry, I am for real, and everyone will get what they deserve.”
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Debbie had been sat outside the building for two hours and was afraid she had wasted both her time and her money. She had paid the security guard on the main entrance five hundred Hong Kong dollars to allow her to sit in his booth and view anyone entering or leaving the building. She had told him she was trying to find out if her boyfriend was cheating with her friend, but he hadn’t seemed overly interested in her reasons when she produced the money. The baseball cap and light jacket she was wearing disguised her sufficiently that she doubted anyone would recognize her.
Debbie had made little progress with her investigation of Weston. For some reason her intuition told her that Weston’s relationship with ‘Tee’ was important in discovering the real Andrew Weston. The first thing to do therefore was identify who Tee really was, but none of her contacts had any information that could help. She looked at her watch and saw that it was already after 11pm. If Weston followed his normal pattern he would have been home by now. He usually met friends or clients for drinks after work but apparently he was an early bird who rarely stayed out late
Her sense of frustration gradually increased and a few minutes later she looked at her watch again. She told herself there was no point staying there all night, Weston could have been on a business trip for all she knew. She thanked the security guard and told him her boyfriend was probably staying at her friend’s house. He nodded his head and wondered why a good looking girl like her would be worried about her boyfriend running off. There were plenty more fish in the sea for someone who looked like her. Sensing there was more money to be made he asked if she would be back the next evening and Debbie replied that she would, depending on other commitments.
The street outside was quiet and Debbie wondered whether she should call for a taxi or wait for one to come along. A few moments later one came around the corner and she saw it had its red light on, indicating it was available for hire. The taxi pulled up and she got into the back seat. The driver stared ahead and said nothing. She told him the address she was going to and sat back in the seat. As the car drove off she looked at the driver again and noticed he had a long scar running down the left hand side of his face.
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The meeting had seemed to drag on forever and Lee Wai had feared it would take all afternoon before a consensus would be reached. It wasn’t that he minded attending long meetings, it was just that in this particular case he knew what the eventual decision would be. Still, it was all part of the game that every successful civil servant had learnt to play. He could hardly complain given the success he had had within government.
While group consensus was a wonderful thing when something went right, it was invaluable when something wrong. There was no point in demonstrating strength of character and making a hard decision, no-one in the civil service was ever rewarded for doing that. It was important not to have sole responsibility for any decision that went wrong, so every decision of any significance was made by a committee and the responsibility was shared. It meant endless meetings, delayed decisions and sometimes ineffective government. Still, if you did your time and you played the game, you retired with your pension. There were worse ways to go through life.
Just before 4pm he had announced he had another meeting to attend and had returned to his office. He sat at his desk with his thermos tumbler full of hot tea and a small plate of biscuits in front of him. He stretched his neck and tried to ease the tension that had been steadily building all day. It had started when he had received the phone call that morning. He hadn’t had time to think everything through and he never did things without thinking them through first. So the stress had been gradually building and he was desperate to find a release for it. But that would have to wait, this was no time for pleasure.
He thought again about the phone call. The caller had been quite explicit. He knew about his friendship with Stephen, and he had emphasized the word ‘friendship’. There was no threat, the caller had simply said he would be in touch with him again shortly and in the meantime he was to tell no‐one about the call.
He tried to think of the words to describe his relationship with Stephen. His mind wandered and he thought of how quickly one’s life could change. The friendship had started when a colleague had suggested he take tennis lessons to help improve his game. He had played the occasional social game without much success and if he was honest, without much enjoyment. He had agreed as he thought improving his standard of play would increase his level of enjoyment. Little did he know that it wasn’t only his tennis game that was to be affected by that decision.
He picked up a photograph of his
family, which he kept on his desk. His wife had died of cancer when his children were quite young and he had never remarried. His friends and colleagues had initially tried to introduce him to eligible spinsters of every shape and size, but he wasn’t interested in finding another mate and they soon gave up. Someone to help bring up the children would have been helpful, but having to cope with the emotional needs of another person in his life was not worth the price.
He looked again at his two children in the photograph and reminded himself that his role as their protector was not yet complete. His son was studying to become a doctor in the US and his daughter was in university in London. They had their own lives now but they still needed him financially. They still spoke often and whilst he knew they would turn to him in times of trouble, he accepted they had their own lives to lead. He assumed all fathers came to this point, it was just a question of when.
As he pondered over what course of action he should take his sense of foreboding increased. He knew he would have to do something soon. He had spent too long creating the perfect image of himself to see it destroyed by the phone caller. His mobile phone sat on the desk in front of him and he stared at it for several minutes. When he began dialing the number he had been given, he felt a sense of both resignation and relief.
Chapter thirty one
That’s the problem with men
Em was sat at a corner table, conservatively dressed in a dark business suit, white blouse and sunglasses on top of her head. She looked like the quintessential investment banker, complete with business papers and mobile phone in front of her.
Mack strolled up to her and smiled. “You are early, I was expecting you to be running late. I thought you sort of girls always did that.”
“Oh, what sort of girl am I?” she replied.
“The ambitious investment banking type. That is what you do isn’t it?”
“Sort of. My boss is in the industry and I do whatever I can to help him. I am just proof reading a report he has to submit tomorrow which I helped prepare and which he wants to be perfect. He is a bit like you in that sense, he likes everything to be perfect. Unfortunately, he has had to learn that not everything in life can be perfect, no matter how hard you try. Sometimes you just have to accept things, and people, the way they are.”
“I see, well, anyway, last night was great.” He laughed as he said “Most fun I have had in ages.”
Em looked away and as she did Mack thought he saw her face blush slightly.
They sat in silence for a few minutes while Mack looked around the room. In the far corner he could see Andrew Weston drinking with two expats he didn’t recognize. They seemed to be in deep discussion. For some reason Weston looked up and glanced in his direction. He raised his glass and waved before rejoining the conversation with his friends.
Before he could say anything Em said “Let’s go and eat somewhere.”
Mack nodded and they got up and left without saying farewell to Weston. They walked up to the Koh Tai restaurant in Wyndham St. It was a warm, pleasant evening and much to their surprise they were able to get an outside table. They both ordered hot lemongrass tea and sat in silence for a few minutes.
Mack’s thoughts were interrupted when his mobile phone rang. He recognized the number immediately and didn’t hesitate in taking the call.
“Do you guys never rest? Are they paying you over time now?” he chided in a mocking tone.
Don Taylor sighed at the other end of the phone.
“They certainly aren’t” he replied. “We have something that concerns you. Debbie Chan has been reported missing. She was due to stay at her parent’s home last night, but never turned up. She hasn’t been home since and her parents have reported her missing. We both know Stephen Chan was involved in something and now his sister disappears. Is there anything you can tell me.”
Mack excused himself from the table and stepped onto the pavement. He walked a few paces from the restaurant before saying “Nothing really, I haven’t spoken to her for several days. I know she has been busy and perhaps she has gone off to do some research and didn’t tell anyone.”
“Research on what?”
“Ah, good question, I am not sure I can help you on that one.” “Can’t or won’t?”
“Can’t. I know she was interested in Andrew Weston but I don’t know if she was specifically working on him or something else. She is a reporter and could be working on any number of things. For all we know she could be in Macau with a boyfriend having a great time.”
“Big fella, I really hope nothing has happened to her, because if it has we are going to have a very serious talk.”
He hung up and Mack was left to consider whether he should have been more forthcoming with Don. At this stage there was nothing to link her apparent disappearance with Weston and anyway, she could turn up tomorrow with a plausible reason for her absence.
He waved at Em before dialing Lindy’s number. The call didn’t help much though as all Lindy could say was that she had not heard from Debbie since their last meeting.
Debbie leaving without telling anyone may have seemed unusual, but he didn’t know her well enough to be able to say that with any degree of certainty. Unfortunately there was not much he could do to trace her at this stage. That was best left to Don.
He made his way back to the table. Em was sat there and didn’t speak as he sat down. She looked at him and said quietly “Everything alright? You look worried, as if you had just received some bad news and need time to think about it.”
Mack sighed. “The problem with having a mobile phone, you are always contactable. Most of the time they are useful, sometimes they are a nuisance.”
“And on this occasion?”
“I am glad I was told the news, but there is little I can do about it.” He paused for a moment before going on. “Someone I know has gone missing and I was just asked if I knew anything about it.”
“By the police?”
“Yes, I have some friends in the force and since I knew the girl through a case I am working on they rang me.”
“I thought you were a kinder garden teacher?” she replied cynically.
He was about to say something when the waitress arrived. She handed them menus and after a few words of greeting in almost perfect English she left them alone.
Em resumed the conversation by saying “I know you are not a teacher.” “No, I am not. And you haven’t told me who you work for either.”
She ignored his reply and asked “So what do you do?” “I am a brain surgeon. You?”
Em looked intently at him and frowned. “I told you, I am just a boring PA. And I know you are an investigator of some sort.”
“How do you know that?”
“The night we first met, my friend who knew you told me.”
“I see. I don’t like talking about my work, any more than you like talking about yours. I still don’t know the name of the company you work for.”
Her voice had a sharp edge to it when she said “You men are all the same you know. Before you say I am being cynical, let me tell you I know this from experience. For most men it takes a long, long time for them to really trust a member of the opposite sex, even if they are sleeping with them in the meantime.”
“Relax, just because I don’t want to talk about my work doesn’t mean I don’t trust you. The same with you not telling me who you work for. For what it is worth, my parents trust each other and they confide in one another and share their secrets. I think that is necessary if a relationship is to survive. It just takes time to build that trust.”
Em immediately responded in an accusatory tone “Yes, but look at how many relationships don’t survive. And the reason for that? Lack of trust and a lack of communication, usually arising from a lack of the former.
“As for men, well, most of them don’t want a deep and meaningful relationship, they simply want fun and sex. One day they think they should pass on their genes and family name so they go in search of �
�Miss Perfect’.
“Of course, she doesn’t exist, so it all becomes a compromise. Would this person be a good mother, a good home maker, does she get on with my friends, could I put up with her moods all day every day and so on.”
“The truth is, ‘Miss perfect’ has probably passed through their bed many times before but they weren’t looking for her. They were too focused on the size of her tits.”
Em kept her voice low as she spoke. “Let me ask you a question, or is this upsetting you? Never mind, someone has to tell you this. Why are you still single and unattached? You must be mid thirties, a good looking guy, I assume you earn decent money, you are not gay and yet here you are, on your own.