Chapter 43
Back at the Crimson Dragon, the mood in the parlor wasn’t elated but rather perplexed. Li Li struggled to focus on her bookkeeping, but her mind pursued its own agenda. So many questions surfaced in her head. Li Li worked hard to ignore them. She didn’t want to waste any time on such silly nonsense. It was a long time ago and that part of her life had long been buried for good. Or so she thought.
As hard as Li Li tried to forget about the visit, it was too much to assume it was coincidence. It simply was not common practice for a man to enter the parlor and ask for her by name. There was a time when Li Li worked the parlors, but this was long ago. But even then, she only serviced a very distinguished list of clients. Only men of stature were able to see Li Li. There were all types––powerful businessmen, dignitaries, guests of the state––they all wanted Li Li. The common man didn’t even know she existed.
Back then she was twenty-one, educated, and without a care in the world. And it was this free-spirited buzz that attracted the suitors, the almighty ones, in droves. It was infectious. They would leave her care like little boys with a grade-school crush. They all loved her, every single one of them. No man could resist the way Li Li’s silky, black hair fanned across her fair back. She had dark brown doe eyes that sparkled when she laughed. She could have any suitor wrapped around her finger in a night’s time. This made Li Li very powerful.
Even if this strange man knew of her past, it didn’t explain how he knew about Wi and Fu. Discretion was of the utmost importance. Li Li was careful about keeping the true force behind the parlors, the Triads, hidden from customers.
Li Li closed her book and poured herself another cup of tea. This wasn’t going away. Twenty-two years ago, the cousins disappeared. No one knew what became of Fu and Wi. No one seemed to care, not even the police or the Wo Shing Wo. And why would they when the murders had stopped?
Right around the same time that the cousins were at their height of power, a series of macabre killings had been going on in the Mong Kok district. Of course a lot of them could be tied back to the fighting between factions. But many hid under the cover of the turf wars. There were twenty-five killings across a span of three years that shared the same excessive dismemberment.
For the most part the authorities were convinced each victim was connected to a gang. They were killing their own, not innocent citizens. The residents, however, were convinced there was a serial killer on the loose and many of those bodies were innocent people. Because there were so many bodies piling up from the fighting between factions, it was hard to prove.
Eventually, the Hong Kong police caved to the pressure and initiated a massive manhunt to find the supposed serial killer of Mong Kok. One widely held theory involved the two cousins who were thought to be the ones behind the grisly murders. When the cousins disappeared, the bodies stopped showing up, so there simply wasn’t a whole lot of interest in finding out what happened to them. There were no bodies. Good riddance was what the community thought.
Li Li, of course, knew better. Not once did she ever think Fu was responsible for those killings or even capable. He wasn’t a violent man. He didn’t have it in him. Fu was a kind and caring man. Fu was her lover. From the moment they met, Fu and Li Li were inseparable. He treated her with decency and respect. He would always tell her, “One day, we get away from this craziness. Just you and me. Gone.”
This dream was all they ever talked about. They were so in love. Fu was putting enough money away to keep them afloat for a few years. He was unsure of the future and wanted to make sure money wasn’t a problem. He would quit the gang, knowing very well this meant there would be a price for his head. They had to be prepared to leave Hong Kong and go as far away as possible. Li Li was ready and waiting.
And then Fu disappeared. No goodbye, no note, no nothing. There were no indications hinting he was leaving. Li Li believed he was dead. He had to be. How could he leave her?
Li Li wiped a tear from her eye. She was a mess, thanks to Darby.
Chapter 44
Ever been frightened up? It’s the same as being woken up except you crap the bed. The hotel alarm clock has this terrible school bell ring to it. It’s loud and obnoxious, and sounds like an entire heard of cows dying. Works well, though.
I looked up at my friends on the ceiling. Mama elephant now had a baby elephant and… an alligator-looking thing trailing them. This was becoming a morning ritual. What is the elephant up to today?
The ringing started again. This time it was my cell phone.
“Hello, this is Darby.”
“Darby, this is Chu. I call about the meeting.”
“Great. Where?”
“We meet by seafood markets, harbor side, in Cheung Sha Wan district today at one o’clock. Don’t be late.”
“One o’clock, seafood markets, harbor side, Cheung Sha Wan district. Got it,” I repeated. “Chu, will Sing be there?”
There was a click and then silence.
“Chu?”
It was no use. He already hung up. I dressed and headed out.
I stopped at the dim sum shop and picked up a pork bun and a couple of rice cakes to eat while I walked. The food silenced the tingles I had in my stomach. I was a little nervous about meeting the gang, but maybe it wasn’t worry bothering me, just hunger.
I found the markets relatively quickly in the industrialized area of Cheung Sha Wan. The markets were enormous wholesale operations. I had half expected a bunch of mom-and-pop shops like in Chinatown, but these markets were warehouse size and filled the span of a few blocks along the harbor. The buildings that housed the markets were old structures of one or two stories made out of a combination of stone and brick. Delivery trucks littered the area out front while tiny blue and white forklifts lifted pallets filled with seafood, fruit, and produce onto the waiting vehicles.
I was surprised that Chu requested we meet by the markets. This place was madness. How on earth would I find him?
Chapter 45
I headed toward the back of the markets and walked along the boardwalk. It was less hectic. It was five to one and still no sign of Chu. I hoped Sing would come to this meeting. I thought meeting in a public place would assure me some sort of safety net.
After walking a few blocks I realized most of the crowd had all but disappeared and this part of the dock was mostly empty buildings. Not where I wanted to be. I was in the process of doing a U-turn when something caught my eye. Something beautiful.
Dressed in a smart looking, black pantsuit was a striking woman. She was consumed with the right heel of her shoe. It was wedged between two wooden planks on the pier. Struggling to free herself, she yanked her leg repeatedly all while mumbling to herself in Cantonese. One didn’t need to be a Chinese language expert to figure out she was probably saying “Shit,” “Bitch,” “Bastard,” and “A-hole.” It’s not what you would expect from a petite woman barely pushing five-foot-three.
With one last yank, she finally broke free and sent herself flying forward straight into my gut. I grunted as I caught her.
The woman quickly pawed at my chest as she tried to regain her footing. “I’m so sorry, excuse me.”
I helped her up. “Are you okay?”
She regained her footing and brushed at her suit. “Yes, I’m fine. But it looks like my heel got decapitated,” she said with just a hint of an accent.
“Wait, I can help you.” I fumbled around in my pocket.
“Thank you,” she said.
Still fumbling in my pocket, I looked up. “Huh? Oh, not a problem. Ah, here it is.” I pulled my hand out revealing a small plastic tube. “It’s Krazy Glue. I always keep some on me.”
The woman raised an eyebrow, “Really?”
Uncapping the tube, I slipped the glue container out. “Yeah, Krazy Glue can solve many of life’s problems.”
I bent down and wiggled the heel free from the wooden planks. “Give me your shoe.”
She reached down and slipped the sexy leather number of
f her foot, hopping for a bit before balancing herself on my shoulder. I placed a drop on the heel and then held it firmly against the bottom of her sole.
A few seconds later, I handed it back to her. “Good as new.”
She excitedly slipped the heel back on and gave it a test walk.
“It works!” Sticking her hand out, she introduced herself, “I’m Leslie Choi.”
“Darby Stansfield,” I said as I gently gripped her hand. “Leslie, huh?”
“I have a Chinese name, but I prefer my English name, if you must know.”
“Do most people here have both names?”
“Depends. So tell me, Darby Stansfield, do you always rescue strange women from falling and then volunteer to fix their broken shoes?”
“Only the ones in heels.” I said playfully back.
“Well, thanks again.” She smiled at me and waved. “See you around.”
My eyes followed as she walked away. Who is that woman? I wondered.
I felt a tap on my shoulder and spun around to find Chu standing there.
“Chu! Great to see you. I almost thought you wouldn’t show.”
There was no reaction from Chu. No hello, no smile, no nothing––except one question. “She friend?” he said pointing to Leslie off in the distance.
“Her? No, her shoe broke. I helped out, that’s all.”
“She look like friend,” Chu persisted.
“Nope, not a friend. Just a woman who needed help,” I said, shrugging his question off. Chu was acting a bit strange as his eyes struggled to follow Leslie in the crowd.
I needed to get the meeting back on track. “What about Sing? Is he here?” I said looking over Chu’s shoulder.
Chapter 46
Chu was having second thoughts on introducing Darby to Sing. He had drunk a lot of beers in the canteen that day and let his mouth run. As much he liked the attention Darby gave him, he knew it was wrong to talk to him. But it felt nice to be appreciated.
When Chu told Sing about the strange man he had met, he didn’t get the response he was hoping for. Sing was angry. “He could be an undercover cop or a spy from one of our enemy factions. Does he know what we do?”
“No, I say we are a business organization,” Chu lied. “He’s in telecommunications. He’s from America. San Francisco. He can help.”
“Help? Help how?”
“It would be good to hear what he can offer.”
“And what can he offer?”
“He has a program called ‘Get Organized.’ He said it can help organize the gang.” Chu suddenly realized what he said. The jig was up.
Sing shouted back at him. And hit him in the head, the arm and then his fat stomach. “You stupid person! Why did you lie to me? You told him.”
Chu stood there, silent for a moment. “This is good. You must listen. He can help.” Chu cringed a little, anticipating Sing’s wrath. But there was none. Sing was listening. He knew Chu was right.
Sing left without saying anything. Chu was unsure of what he needed to do but he had heard what Darby could do and couldn’t stop thinking about how he could help.
Chapter 47
Chu smiled. “Follow me.”
I slapped Chu on the back. “Now that’s the Chu I remember. Where are we heading?”
“Headquarters.”
“And that’s where we’ll meet Sing?”
Chu nodded.
We walked inland down Yen Chow Street to the Sham Shui Po neighborhood. I didn’t need research to tell me the tangle of streets we entered were one of the poorer sections of Hong Kong. The buildings were old and I was sure some of the apartments were government built and funded. Upkeep didn’t appear to be part of the plan.
We finally stopped outside a restaurant. I looked up at the sign but couldn’t read it. Either this was headquarters of the notorious Fan Gang or we were stopping for a late lunch. Most of the lunch crowd had cleared out by two, when we arrived. Looking around, I thought it was a pretty decent place. There were about ten large, round tables already pre-set with silverware and teacups. The décor was typical: illustrations of countrysides, dragons, temples, and flowing rivers.
Ornate chandeliers hung from the ceiling. I looked around trying to decide what might be the best table to sit at and settled on a smaller table off to the side of the room. “Right here is fine,” I said as I pulled out a chair to sit.
“No,” said Chu and he motioned to the back of the restaurant.
I got up and followed Chu. We reached the back of the restaurant so I took a seat at one of the few remaining tables and proceeded to look at the menu.
Chu ripped the menu out of my hands and sent it flying across the room.
“Not here to eat,” he shouted.
The menu cut across the restaurant like a ninja star, hitting a lone gentleman sitting at table in the corner. The menu got him square in the forehead. He yelled out as he pressed his hands against his head. The man wore a black suit, white shirt, and red tie.
Sing! I thought.
Chu ran over to him immediately and dabbed his forehead with a napkin, unsure of what injury, if any, the menu had caused.
He slapped Chu’s hand away, “Enough!”
Chu poured him a fresh cup of tea.
“What is wrong with you? Why did you throw the menu?”
“Sorry, boss,” Chu said as he continued to fawn over him, fixing his jacket and straightening his tie…then he licked a finger, hesitating as he moved it toward Sings forehead, hovering for a second and then quickly patting down Sing’s eyebrow.
He slapped his hands away again. “Stop it!”
I sat there, my mouth unhinged. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. Had I gotten my wish?
Chu looked up and motioned for me to join them. As I approached, Chu lit a cigarillo for the man. He took a long drag and exhaled through his nostrils parting the smoke into two forceful plumes.
“Darby, I introduce Sing Chow to you.”
I stuck my hand out, “Darby Stansfield. Nice to meet you,” I said with a smile.
Chu quickly knocked my hand down and shook his head at me. Chu whispered into Sing’s ear and he nodded for me to sit.
I took a seat, quietly wondering what happens next. Small talk? Weather? Giants’ game? There wasn’t anything in Wikipedia about protocol for a Triad meeting.
“Darrrby, what can I do for you?”
“For me? Well, I, uh think maybe there’s a way we might be able to, uh, sort of, um, uh help each other…maybe.” God, I sound like an idiot. Pull it together, Darby.
“Chu says you’re a smart businessman. I’m a smart businessman too. Are you better than me?”
It was obviously a loaded question. Diplomacy was needed. I prayed I could deliver. “Well, it all depends. I know my business very well. I won’t pretend to know yours. But if you give me the opportunity, I believe I can help you.”
“Why do you think I need help? Am I doing something wrong?”
“Quite the opposite. I have tools at my disposal that have helped other businessmen. I am merely presenting you with the opportunity to use them as well.” I placed my business card on the table and slid it over to Sing.
Sing picked the card up and looked at it, “You organize?”
“Yes, that’s what I do. I help organizations increase efficiency and productivity. This leads to a successful bottom line.” I waited for a response, but it was clear I had lost Sing. “I use wireless business solutions to help,” I added.
“I have cell phone.”
“Yeah, but you could have better phones, a better way of communicating.”
This wasn’t going well and I knew it. I wasn’t making any sense. Sing wasn’t an operations guy or an office manager. He was the leader of a criminal gang. I changed my approach.
“Look Sing, I can help. My wireless products can help. I know this sounds crazy, but I promise you I can help your organization––your gang––grow.”
Sing sat in silence. He
took another long drag and then smooshed the butt into an overflowing ashtray. “Do you know what troubles me?”
“No. But whatever it is I believe I can help.”
“If you are the accomplished businessman you say you are, why would you want to do business with an organization like us? Why not McDonald’s?”
“That’s exactly my point. Whether an underground outfit or a mega corporation, my products are designed to help organizations function better. It doesn’t matter what type of business it is. I’d rather help an up-and-coming organization than one already established.”
“Why you want to get mixed up with this?” Sing asked as he raised both arms up. “Tell me.”
“Look, I’m gonna level with you. I feel like organizations like the Fan Gang are untapped territories. In fact they are overlooked. To tell you the truth, I’m new. This is my first time—”
Sing raised his hand and shook his head. “New? Are we your guinea pig?”
“Well, sort of, yes. But I won’t charge you. I’ll provide all the product and training free of charge, and if you see no improvement in three months, you can fire me. It’s a win-win situation.”
Sing leaned forward, his eyebrow cocked. “How is it a win for you?”
This was the moment of truth. The rub. The catch. There’s always a catch. I knew I needed to be careful with my words. It was important Sing not take this wrong way.
“Sing, I want to document this. What we’re about to do here. I would like to create a case study. That’s how sure I am about this program. I can use it to show other people in your sort of business how they too can succeed.”
“A case study? What good is this?”
I was beginning to get irritated with all the questions. This gang was a joke. If only Sing knew what Chu told me, he wouldn’t be talking so big.
“Well, it’s good for my business. It’s a way for me to show future prospects how well my program works.”
“Why would I want to help you make other gangs better?” Sing raised his voice. “They could become an enemy to me. Worse, they could already be my enemy.”
Darby Stansfield Thriller Series (Books 1-3 & Bonus Novella) Page 11