Fate

by Ian Hamilton

  “I reacted badly to his death. I immediately began to think about the implications of Ma’s assuming his position. He was always opposed to my night-market idea, and just about any change I proposed. So, rather selfishly, I began to promote Ren for the job. That was a lapse in judgement. That’s what I meant when I said I was rash, because despite the issues I had with Ma, he was loyal to the gang. Ren’s loyalties lie elsewhere. I didn’t see it at first, but gradually I started to understand, and I felt foolish when I did.

  “I believe that right from the moment I spoke to him about becoming Mountain Master, Ren started negotiating with his friend Tso in Tai Po about a merger. I’m not sure why he didn’t want the job. Maybe he didn’t want the pressure or the responsibility, but it’s obvious to me now that he just wanted to hand it off. My problem was that I’d encouraged him to run and had committed my support, so no matter what I was beginning to sense, I couldn’t walk away from him.

  “But when I spoke to Ren on the morning of Gao’s funeral, his reluctance was too obvious to ignore. He pushed me to tell him what I really thought of his chances, and I wasn’t dishonest. He used my reservations to justify his decision to step down. It turned out he was playing me for a fool, and that became even clearer when Ma was gunned down later that day and his body dumped in the courtyard of the funeral home . . . ”

  “Gui-San, it’s so hard sometimes pretending to be in control of my emotions,” he said, dropping his head to his knees. Chow remained in that position for several minutes as various thoughts bounced around in his head. When they began to settle, he said, “I now believe that Ren conspired with Tso to have Ma killed, and he might have had a hand in Gao’s death too. Tai Po wants control of Fanling and they thought they could get it through Ren. We aren’t as large as they are, but we generate more income. Our success has created jealousy, spiked greed, and earned us unwanted attention. Two days ago, even before Ren was supposed to be named Mountain Master, Tai Po tried to set the stage for taking us over by moving in on some of our betting shops. We fought them off. I organized the resistance, Gui-San, and I have to say I did it well. There was no fear, no doubt — it came very naturally to me. Maybe that certainty I felt is what takes hold of someone when they’ve already lost everything in their lives and there’s nothing more that can be taken from them.

  “Anyway, Yu and Wang were impressed by my behaviour and urged me to oppose Ren for the position of Mountain Master. You and I have never discussed that possibility, but why would we? Until a few days ago it would have been far-fetched, if not unthinkable. You do know that I have ambition, but perhaps not the extent of it. I hope it doesn’t disappoint you that I want to do more, to be more than I am. This is my roundabout way of telling you that I agreed to run against Ren.

  “And Gui-San, I won. I won in a rout. Yu, Tian, Fong, Xu, and Wang brought nearly the entire gang over to my side. It was gratifying, and maybe a little humbling. But truthfully, when I found out I’d won, I felt a sense of rightness. I thought, I’m ready for this and I can handle it. I hope you don’t think my ego is out of control, but I’ve discovered that when I know what I want and I understand why I want it, I have confidence in my ability to make the decisions needed for it to happen. And when I’m confident, people take me seriously — everyone, except possibly Tso.

  “When I talked to Tso last night, he was still pretending that he has nothing but our best interests at heart. He tried to spin the story that he and Ma, and then he and Ren had verbally agreed that Tai Po would provide us with protection in exchange for a share of our gambling revenue. He even asked me to honour that agreement. He must think I’m stupid or weak. I was very abrupt with him. I told him that Tai Po has no claim on Fanling. We want nothing from them and we have nothing that we’re willing to give.

  “After talking to him, I began to call the other Mountain Masters to tell them about the election. Most of them knew about the results already, but I thought it was important for me to tell them personally that Fanling isn’t in play for Tai Po or anyone else. I said we’re prepared to defend our turf at any cost and we’ll go against anyone who thinks it can be taken from us. They all assured me that the last thing they want is a war of any size, and several of them said they’d call Tso and tell him I have their support.

  “After a few calls like that, I was starting to feel comfortable. And then one of them asked me what I’m going to do about Ren. The question caught me off guard. I still don’t know what to do. There’s no place for him in the gang anymore. I can’t trust him, and I can’t have someone I don’t trust so close to me. I’ve already decided he’ll have to leave the executive. I’m going to make Yu my deputy. Tian has agreed, for a while anyway, to be Vanguard. Xu will replace me as White Paper Fan. I’ve made Fong the Straw Sandal, Pang will remain as Incense Master, and Wang will stay on as Red Pole. I actually wanted Wang to be my deputy, but he’s such a good Red Pole that while things are still up in the air, I thought it wisest to leave him in the position. But what to do with Ren?

  “I have to believe he still has supporters in the gang. He still has economic interests in Fanling. He is undoubtedly still in touch with Tso. Do you understand where I’m going with this?” he said, and reached for a cigarette. He lit it with the Zippo and then held the lighter up towards the niche. “I know that your father’s lighter looks like it’s near the end of its useful life, but it still works beautifully. Xu and Fong bought me a gold Dunhill as a New Year’s gift last year, and I know they’re disappointed that I’m not using it. But how do I explain the emotional attachment I have to this one?”

  He stood and turned towards the entrance of the Ancestor Worship Hall. The sun shone in a cloudless sky, and in the clear morning light even the murky waters of Shenzhen Bay looked inviting. “I have to decide what to do about Ren,” he said, leaving the hall and stubbing out his cigarette on a rock.

  When he returned, he sat on the stool with his legs straight out in front of him, his ankles crossed and his arms folded across his chest. “The easiest thing would be to do nothing, but I think that would be irresponsible, for all the reasons I mentioned earlier. This is not to say that Ren poses any imminent danger, but if he has free rein he might be tempted to meddle and interfere, and if he did and there were no consequences, who knows where it could lead? So at the very least, I need to tell him what my expectations are for his behaviour. I need to make sure he understands that there will be consequences if he does anything that runs contrary to my direction and the gang’s well-being,” he said. Then he sighed. “But Gui-San, I don’t think that’s enough. As much as I want to believe it is, I can’t.

  “The problem is that he’s taken the Thirty-Six Oaths. He’s been a triad since he was a teenager, and he will stay one until he dies. But when he conspired with Tso to have Ma — and maybe Gao — killed, he broke our most sacred oath: to protect our brothers above all, even at the cost of our own lives. That’s why the question from the Mountain Master caught me off guard. He wasn’t really asking me what I’m going to do with Ren in the context of our gang structure; he was asking me how I’m going to deal with a man who has broken his oath in the vilest way imaginable. And believe me, Gui-San, the prevailing opinion among those Mountain Masters, even if they won’t say so directly, is that Ren had a hand in at least Ma’s death. So this is an early test for me. They’ll be watching to see what kind of Mountain Master has joined their ranks. Is it one who takes the easy route? Is it someone who sits back and hopes for the best? Or is it one who is decisive, who can be depended on to do the right thing, regardless of difficulty?

  “I’m sorry to go on like this, but I’m struggling to make the right decision, and it helps to talk it through,” he said, and paused to light another cigarette. He took a deep drag, then turned his head so the exhaled smoke didn’t go towards the niche. “Actually, I know what the right decision is; I’m just reluctant to say it. Ren must die.

  “There, it’s said.
He broke his oath when he conspired to kill Ma, a brother and a man who was supposed to be his friend. Ma deserves some measure of revenge. Ren also has to die because it would be careless of me to let him live, to be constantly looking over my shoulder to see what he’s up to. Still, I’ve been undecided about what to do until now. After all we went through, you and I, the idea of taking any person’s life is repulsive. But now I have 160 men, and all the lives attached to them, depending on me. So, as sad as it is for me to say it, Ren must go.”

  He rose from the stool and walked over to the niche. He gently pushed the urn to one side so he had a clearer view of Gui-San’s photo. He put his right hand to his mouth, kissed his middle finger, and then pressed it against her lips. “I’m sorry for going on so long about Ren, but I wanted you to know how much it has been troubling me. Now I have to go back to Fanling and take care of our business,” he said. “I’ll see you next month for sure. Actually, Gui-San, I expect I’ll be coming here more frequently. This new job of mine brings with it many complications; some I know of already, but I’m certain there are others that I haven’t even imagined. I’ll need someone to talk to, and I’m so grateful you’re here to listen. I love you.”

  Chow replaced the urn and folded the stool. He took one long last look at her photo. Then he turned away from the niche and began to walk back into a life that in many ways still seemed less real to him than the time he had just spent with Gui-San.

  Coming Soon

  From House of Anansi Press in January 2020

  Read on for a preview of the next thrilling Uncle Chow Tung novel, Foresight.

  ( 1 )

  May 1982

  Fanling, New Territories, Hong Kong

  Chow Tung hated the Chinese Communists. He had good reason. Born in the village of Changzhai, near the city of Wuhan in Hubei province, he had left there more than twenty years before, in June 1959. His entire family had died of starvation, brought on by a famine that was a direct result of the economic policies of Mao Zedong’s Great Leap Forward. Between 1958 and 1960, more than twenty million others had died during what the Chinese referred to as the “Years of Slow Death” or the “Bitter Years.” Chow had left his village along with a group of other young people. Each of them had decided to risk death trying to escape China rather than wait for the famine to take them the way it had taken their families.

  They had journeyed almost one thousand kilometres to Shenzhen, a Chinese farming and fishing town on the northern border of Hong Kong’s New Territories. From there, in the middle of the night, they swam four kilometres across the dirty and dangerous waters of Shenzhen Bay to Hong Kong. The water wasn’t the only threat that night. They also had to avoid patrol vessels of the People’s Liberation Army, vessels filled with soldiers with orders to shoot swimmers on sight. No one from their group was shot, but, tragically, three had drowned during the swim. Among them was Lin Gui-San, the love of Chow Tung’s life. He held the Communists accountable for her death.

  Since arriving in Hong Kong, Chow had flourished and prospered. He’d settled in Fanling, a town in the northern part of the New Territories, and joined the local triad gang. After apprenticing as a Blue Lantern, he took the Thirty-Six Oaths and became a full gang member. He had worked as a forty-niner — a foot soldier — for several years, until his intelligence, self-control, and reliability caught the attention of his superiors. He was promoted to assistant White Paper Fan, an administrative and financial management position. When the incumbent retired, Chow had replaced him. As White Paper Fan, he fostered development of the gang’s involvement in less exploitive — although still criminal — businesses such as gambling, trying to move it away from activities that attracted more active police attention, such as drugs and the protection racket.

  During his tenth year with the Fanling triads, the gang had come under attack from a neighbouring gang in Tai Po. The Fanling gang had been going through an upheaval at the time. Its Mountain Master had been murdered, and then a few days later his likely successor was killed as well. The deaths left a vacuum that the Tai Po gang tried to take advantage of. Chow stepped into the breach, organized the resistance against Tai Po, and, in the aftermath, was elected Mountain Master. It was a position he still held, and in the years since he ascended to it, he had continued to build the strength of the Fanling triads. The gang wasn’t by any means the largest in Hong Kong, Kowloon, or the New Territories, but it was among the wealthiest and considered to be particularly well run.

  There were multiple reasons for this success. Chow kept the gang’s activities as far as possible under the police radar and he made it clear to other gangs that any interference in Fanling business would be met with maximum resistance. His business decisions balanced risk against return, and he hated any risk he couldn’t accurately assess. And finally, everything he did was with an eye to the future.

  It was the future that had his attention as Chow sat in a congee restaurant not far from his apartment in Fanling. He was reading the morning edition of the Oriental Daily News. The front page announced that Deng Xiaoping, China’s leader, was pleased with Shenzhen’s progress as a special economic zone. What does the fact that he’s pleased actually mean? And how much progress has really been made? he thought. Three years before, Shenzhen had been given status as a city. At the time, Chow had thought it odd that a farming and fishing community — a cluster of four villages with a total of no more than thirty thousand people —should be given that designation. One year later it made more sense, when Shenzhen was named one of the first of five special economic zones in China. In the two years since, the article stated, its population had tripled to nearly a hundred thousand.

  Chow hadn’t set foot in China since he’d left, even though the Shenzhen border wasn’t much more than a thirty-minute drive from Fanling. Now he was starting to contemplate making the trip. As much he hated the Communists, he was fascinated by Deng Xiaoping and the changes he seemed to be spearheading in China. Chow had been tracking Deng’s recent career and had made a hobby of learning about his colourful past. Now, he wondered, what was this little man — the ultimate survivor — up to with these special economic zones? Was he really an agent of change? Were the zones as successful as the newspaper seemed to believe?

  Chow’s notion of Deng as a little man was a statement of fact rather than a derogatory term. Deng was only four feet eleven inches tall; even the diminutive Chow, at five foot five inches, would have towered over him. And thinking of him as a survivor was both a statement of fact and a compliment. Deng had been born in 1904, and his life spanned the entire history of the Chinese Communist Party. It was a life filled with ups and downs that Chow, despite his antipathy towards Communists, could only admire on a personal level.

  Born into a middle-class landowning family, Deng was sent to Paris for his education while he was in his teens. There he met Zhou Enlai and other Chinese students and became a Leninist. He joined the Chinese Communists in 1923, and from then on he devoted his life to the Party. He served it in Shanghai, Wuhan, and Chongqing. He was on the Long March. When Mao ascended to power, Deng eventually became vice-premier and minister of finance. However, his financial policies favoured economics over ideological dogma; he ran afoul of Mao and his Great Leap Forward and was demoted.

  A few years later, during the Cultural Revolution, Deng and his family were targeted by the Red Guards. His eldest son by his third wife was tortured and thrown out of a window on the top floor of a four-storey building. This wasn’t the first child he’d lost — his first wife and child had both died while he was on the Long March. And his son’s death wasn’t the only torment the Cultural Revolution and the Red Guards would impose on Deng. In 1969, at the age of sixty-five, he was sent to the Xinjian County Tractor Factory, where he was employed as a regular labourer. He stayed there for four years.

  On Deng’s return to Beijing, Zhou Enlai talked Mao into letting him back into the government. He was appointed first
vice-premier and given the responsibility of reconstructing the country’s economy and raising production. This time around he was careful to avoid contradicting Maoist ideology, but even that couldn’t stop him from getting into trouble. The Cultural Revolution wasn’t over yet. A radical political group called the Gang of Four, led by Jiang Qing, Mao’s wife, was competing for power in the Party, in essence positioning themselves to take over when Mao died. Zhou was ill with cancer, and the Gang saw Deng as their greatest threat. They went after him in a campaign called “Criticize Deng and Oppose the Rehabilitation of Right-Leaning Elements.” Mao sided with the Gang, and Deng was forced to write a series of self-criticisms. They didn’t satisfy Mao, however. When Zhou died early in 1976, Deng was once again stripped of his positions.

  The death of Mao late in 1976 brought his chosen successor, Hua Guofeng, into power. Hua immediately purged the Gang of Four, pardoned Deng, and restored him to his senior positions. That was a mistake on Hua’s part. In December 1978 Deng grabbed the reins of power, and soon he had mobilized enough supporters within the Party to outmanoeuvre Hua and have him ousted from all his leadership positions. He did allow Hua to retire quietly, though; that was a departure from the physical harm that had come to previous senior leaders who had lost power struggles.

  What interested Chow was what Deng had done with his power. Beginning in 1979, he introduced economic reforms that accelerated the open-market model. While many of the leaders in Beijing were still mouthing old-style Communist rhetoric, Deng was dismantling the commune system that had taken Chow’s father’s farm from him and contributed to the Bitter Years. Deng also gave peasants more freedom to manage their land and allowed them to sell their products on the market. At the same time, there was talk of opening up China’s economy to foreign trade.