by Chan Ho-Kei
Ah Sing now had Wing-lim in handcuffs. Wing-yee, Choi Ting and Old Tong stood, leaving him alone on the sofa. Nanny Wu longed to ask why on earth he’d kill his own father, but the thought of her Missy having produced such an unworthy child left her sobbing and unable to speak.
‘Yue Wing-lim, why did you murder your father?’ asked Inspector Lok.
He grunted, but didn’t reply.
‘By trying to flee, you’ve already admitted your guilt. I’m sure the investigators will find your DNA on the murder weapon. You have the right to remain silent, but anything you say may be used against you... But I have to add that if you don’t make things clear, your family will have no idea why you’d do what you did.’
‘I... I wanted to be a photographer,’ spat out Yue Wing-lim.
‘And?’
‘The old man wouldn’t let me. We quarrelled, I hit him, and then what you said.’
‘Just for that?’ Nanny Wu couldn’t stop herself asking.
‘Just that. And because once he was dead, Second Brother would take over the directorship and stop pestering me to join the firm, and I’d be able to use my inheritance to focus on photography. Two birds with one stone.’
Nanny Wu slapped him across the face. ‘These devilish reasons – if Missy could hear you from the afterlife, her heart would break.’
Wing-lim made a guttural sound and looked down, avoiding Nanny Wu’s eyes.
‘So the case is solved. Thank you all for taking part in the investigation, and to my mentor too.’ Inspector Lok remained by the bedside. ‘Ah Sing, turn off the camera. Apple, you can put away the computers too.’
Dub-dub.
Everyone turned towards the screen and its NO.
‘Sir, what is it?’
Dub-dub.
‘Sir, are you saying... this case isn’t over yet?’
Ping.
Their eyes were fixed on the screen. Wing-yee was paralysed, convinced the old policeman was going to go after him for his elder brother’s death now.
Inspector Lok’s brow crinkled. ‘Not finished? What did we miss?’
The pointer remained stationary.
‘Sir?’
Whoosh. Out of nowhere, a dialogue box popped up on the screen: ‘ERROR :: Interface Linkage Exception / Address: 0x004D78F9’ and a bright red exclamation mark.
‘Apple, what’s up?’ asked the inspector.
‘A bug.’ Apple’s head was bent over another screen. ‘I’ll see what I can do.’
‘How long will it take?’
‘Anything from half an hour to half a day. Might be hardware. I’ll have to go home and get a spare.’
Inspector Lok glanced awkwardly at the family, then the figure in the bed. ‘Then we’ll stop for today. Apple, see if you can fix the bug tonight and come back here with me tomorrow morning, to ask the superintendent what else he has to say. He might even have woken by then, and be able to speak to us in person.’ Inspector Lok turned to the other four. ‘I’ll be in touch if anything needs clarifying.’
The setting sun had dyed the ocean red. Ah Sing put away the video camera and held on to Yue Wing-lim as they waited. Apple only put away one computer, leaving the two other machines and a floor covered in cables. Yue Wing-yee, Choi Ting, Old Tong and Nanny Wu had already left the room. Inspector Lok stood beside the bed, looking down with respect and admiration at Kwan Chun-dok, taking his hand as he said, ‘Sir, I’m going. I’ll keep working as you would have, and get to the bottom of this case.’
A corner of the superintendent’s lip seemed to curl upwards a little, but Inspector Lok knew this was just an illusion caused by the setting sun.
7
AT NINE THE next morning, Inspector Lok and Ah Sing arrived at Fung Ying Villa. There were already several reporters lurking outside who’d received news of Wing-lim’s arrest and hoped to snatch an exclusive from the family. Seeing the police car, they rushed towards the main gate, but were blocked by the security guards hired in haste the night before. They could only watch the inspector walk up to the house.
‘Good morning, Inspector.’ Nanny Wu answered the door. Her eyes were bloodshot, and she clearly hadn’t slept well.
‘Good morning, Ms Wu.’ Inspector Lok seemed worn out too. ‘Are the others home?’
‘They’re all here.’ As she spoke, Wing-yee and Old Tong appeared in the vestibule. It was Sunday, and they weren’t needed at the office. ‘Tong was running around all night trying to find a lawyer for that brat, while Master Wing-yee phoned everyone he knew. None of us slept well.’
‘My wife is in our room. Inspector Lok, did you come here because of me?’ Wing-yee asked. He was relieved to have given up the secret that had plagued him for twenty years, even if it caused a schism in the family.
‘No, we’ll talk about that later.’ The inspector turned to Old Tong and said sternly, ‘Mr Wong Kwan-tong, you are under arrest on suspicion of murder. Please accompany us to the police station to help with our inquiries. You have the right to remain silent, but anything you say will be recorded and may be used against you.’
The formal police caution statement stunned all three of them. Wing-yee and Nanny Wu swung around to look at Old Tong.
‘So the mur... murderer wasn’t Wing... Wing-lim, but Old Tong?’ Wing-yee struggled to get the words out. The inspector ignored him.
Old Tong’s expression went from shock to sadness, and he only furrowed his brow a little as he asked, ‘May... may I put on my jacket?’
Inspector Lok nodded. He waited till Old Tong had the garment on before handcuffing him.
‘Wing-lim must be spouting all kinds of nonsense at the station, trying to drag the rest of us down with him. Don’t worry,’ said Old Tong to Nanny Wu and Wing-yee as he left.
The three of them got in the car and departed, cameras flashing non-stop as they passed through the gate, all the reporters trying to get a shot of the inspector and Old Tong in the back seat. They drove along the highway towards Kowloon East Regional Headquarters in Tseung Kwan O.
In the car, the three men were silent. Ah Sing glanced at the other two in the rear-view mirror from time to time, but both kept up a poker face. Old Tong seemed self-possessed, not anxious at all, as if his confusion at being arrested earlier was all for show.
Inspector Lok broke the silence first. ‘It was you who incited Yue Wing-lim to murder Yuen Man-bun, wasn’t it?’
‘Is that what Wing-lim said?’ Old Tong didn’t turn, but looked directly ahead.
‘No. He hasn’t said a word, not even to that lawyer you found for him.’ The inspector was certain the old man already knew this; there was no way the lawyer wouldn’t have reported back to him.
‘Then why do you think I incited him to do it?’ said Old Tong calmly.
‘The motives he admits to don’t stand up at all. Killing his father because he wanted to be a photographer? That’s laughable. As an impulsive act, sure, that might explain the attack with the vase. But shooting with a harpoon? That’s not something that happens on the spur of the moment.’
‘You think Wing-lim wasn’t the murderer?’
‘No, he did it. The DNA evidence shows it – because he wasn’t familiar with the loading mechanism, a hook on the rubber tubing grazed his left wrist. He probably tried to clean up the blood, but what the naked eye can’t see, police technology can still pick up.’
‘So it was him.’
‘But even if he’d attacked his father over his choice of profession, there’d be no reason to turn it into murder. Say he impulsively knocked his father out, and thought he’d killed him, so tried to make it look like a burglary – fine. But when his father came to, he knocked him out again, and even shot him with a speargun – that’s completely over the top. This wasn’t a premeditated crime; the scenario he created is full of holes. Yet it was an unspeakably vicious assault, as if he felt he had no choice but to kill his father. So I think he must have had a real hatred for the deceased that had lain dormant for a long time, but
flared up because of some argument.’
‘I can’t speak for Wing-lim’s own issues.’
‘That’s the one thing I can’t understand. What kind of deep vendetta could a twenty-four-year-old have against his own father? Most murders of parents take place when the killer has a long-term resentment against their victim, and more importantly, has never felt any familial warmth since childhood. Yue Wing-lim doesn’t fit the profile – it’s clear from his words and behaviour that he got on very well with his mother. Money plays a big part in most patricides, but I don’t think Wing-lim was in financial difficulties, and besides, Yuen Man-bun paid for all his children to go to university. There surely couldn’t be enough accumulated anger to provoke this kind of act.’
‘Yuen Man-bun paid for his kids’ education because that was his duty. He wasn’t a good father – he only cared about money, power, reputation and status. He liked Wing-yee, but only because he had the potential to do well in the business world.’
Inspector Lok noticed Old Tong had stopped calling Mr Yuen ‘Boss-man’, and was just using his name – his pretence of respect for the deceased completely dropped.
‘Even if Yuen Man-bun wasn’t as warm towards his sons as he could have been, I don’t believe that would cause Wing-lim to commit murder. There’d need to be some kind of deeper reason to provoke such an extreme act.’
‘Did the unconscious Superintendent Kwan deduce that?’
‘No, that was me.’ Inspector Lok smiled, although his tired eyes told a different story.
‘And you think I was this “deeper reason”?’
‘Yes.’
‘Inspector Lok, you think too highly of me.’ Old Tong’s grin looked forced, like a mask. ‘I’m just a humble secretary...’
‘But you’ve been with the Yue household a long time.’
‘So?’
‘So I believe you’re at the core of this case. Do you remember, at the police station last week, I asked you, “If the murderer weren’t an intruder, who would you think it was?”’
‘I remember.’
‘And you answered that of all the family, Yue Wing-lim had the worst relationship with the deceased, though he’d never kill his own father.’
‘I guess I was wrong.’ Old Tong shrugged.
‘Do you know what answers the others gave?’
‘What?’
‘Wing-lim said he didn’t know, and the other three gave three different names, all people connected to companies that were subject to hostile takeover by Fung Hoi.’
‘Oh?’ Old Tong hesitated.
‘My question was really, “Who do you think harboured ill intentions against Yuen Man-bun?” The others thought of his business enemies – which the “Fung Hoi Shark” would surely have plenty of.’ Inspector Lok’s voice was calm. ‘But you, as his secretary, didn’t reach for these names. Instead, you assured me Wing-lim wasn’t the killer. I don’t believe this was a slip of the tongue, or that your mind momentarily went blank. You supposed in that moment that I was asking only about the Yue household. Which means that even if you weren’t the murderer or chief plotter, you still knew more than you should.’
‘A fascinating supposition,’ said Old Tong placidly. ‘But that’s just your little fantasy.’
‘That’s right, I’ve got no evidence at all,’ smiled the inspector. ‘Only my instincts. For that matter, I have an even bolder hypothesis.’
‘What might that be?’
‘Yue Wing-lim isn’t Yuen Man-bun’s son. He’s yours.’
‘Ha!’ Old Tong burst into laughter. ‘That’s original. Let’s hear more.’
‘If Yue Wing-lim were the result of you and Yue Chin-yau having an affair, that would explain some of the strange things I’ve noticed. Why did Wing-lim get on so badly with Yuen Man-bun? Why such hatred for Mr Yuen? Why so insistent he committed the murder because he wanted to be a photographer? It would be far more convincing if his biological parents were both under Yuen Man-bun’s thumb, and his mother died in great sadness, creating a grudge against his so-called father.’
‘That’s rather overblown, don’t you think? Like some crappy eight o’clock soap.’
‘Isn’t real life just as ridiculous? I actually have a fair bit of evidence to back me up. Firstly, your attitude towards the two Yue sons – you’re respectful to the elder one, calling him “Master Wing-yee”, but with Wing-lim you just use his name. You don’t even hold back from scolding him in front of outsiders, and Wing-lim, who talks back to his older brother, sits there quietly and takes it from you. Isn’t that odd? You’re just his father’s personal secretary, why would he give you so much respect? You might be a long-serving member of the household, but I don’t think that’d mean much to this young punk.’
‘Logical, but still a bit thin,’ sneered Old Tong. ‘Just think about it – if I’d had a secret affair with Chin-yau, and deceived Yuen Man-bun into raising my son as his own, wouldn’t that already be my revenge? Killing him would seem excessive.’
Lok was silent, apparently thinking about this.
‘Inspector Lok, your fantasies are comical.’ Old Tong suddenly stopped smiling. ‘But if you’re going to make wild guesses, so can I – even crazier ones. Of course, this is completely fabricated, with no proof at all. Even if you write it down, my lawyer will call it “pure supposition” and get it thrown out of court. Want to hear it?’
‘Please.’
‘First of all, if I were behind all this, I wouldn’t be stupid enough to directly incite Wing-lim to commit murder. If you want to use a person like that, you create the right conditions – plant seeds of hatred, allow the desire for revenge to fester slowly. At a certain point, this tips over into murder. Anyone could become a killer, given the right circumstances. This is all hypothetical, of course.’
‘Fine, noted. Please continue.’
‘The nature of that hatred isn’t even particularly important. If I were nurturing Yue Wing-lim’s loathing, I’d certainly make use of a more plausible reason to indoctrinate, heh, my own son – you insist he’s my child, so let’s go with that, but it’s not a sufficient reason to commit murder. What could make Wing-lim so full of fury that he’d actually take a life?’
Old Tong’s eyes were fixed on a horizon only he could see.
‘For example, if someone he loved got badly hurt. You know what I mean, Inspector? Hatred and love are two sides of the same coin. Want to make Peter truly loathe Paul? Tell Peter that Paul hurt someone Peter loved deeply.’
‘Loved deeply?’
‘Such as his mother.’
‘Hurt in what way?’
‘Such as... Yue Wing-lai being Yuen Man-bun’s biological son.’
‘Biological? But...’
‘What if Yue Chin-yau’s rapist was none other than Yuen Man-bun?’
The air in the car seemed to solidify.
‘Supposing, just supposing...’ Old Tong’s manacled hands plucked at his sparse white hair. ‘If Yuen Man-bun had been jealous of his young colleague growing closer to Old-boss’s daughter, realizing his chance of becoming the chosen son-in-law was slipping away, he might hatch a diabolical plot – making use of company funds to bribe some ruffians to spend time with Chin-yau, and then, at one of their parties, knock her out with drugs and alcohol, leaving Yuen Man-bun free to have his way with her. He’d have known the timid Chin-yau wouldn’t dare tell her parents, and as long as innocent Nanny Wu played her part, the whole thing would be hushed up. The best-case scenario would be Chin-yau getting pregnant, leaving Yue Fung the unpalatable choice of marrying off his daughter or facing unspeakable scandal. Or she might have an abortion, but even then this inglorious episode would leave her vulnerable to Man-bun stealing her from me under the guise of compassion. Or at worst, if she didn’t get pregnant and went on to marry me or someone else, he wouldn’t have lost anything, and would at least have got to satisfy his animal lust.’
Inspector Lok let out an icy breath. ‘This... this is all plausible, b
ut it contains things you couldn’t possibly know.’
‘On the contrary. Let’s say because of work, I had occasion to speak with Triad members, and learned about underground gossip from a decade before.’ Old Tong smiled mirthlessly. ‘The “Fung Hoi Shark” used all kinds of tactics, sometimes turning one faction of the underground against another. As his secretary, I’d naturally meet these people, and who’d have thought this world was so small – some little nobody helps Yuen Man-bun rape Yue Chin-yau, and ten years later there he is, a Triad big shot. Drinking with me one day, thinking I was friends with Man-bun, he let slip some things he shouldn’t have.’
‘So you incited your son to kill Yuen Man-bun in revenge for having stolen your authority and position?’
‘Inspector Lok – again, speaking hypothetically – it hardly matters whether I wanted revenge because I’d lost my position, or because Yuen Man-bun’s underhanded tactics hurt someone I cared about. Maybe it was just anger at being betrayed by someone I treated like a brother. Maybe I played a long game, and eventually gave as good as I got?’
It was just for an instant, but the inspector noticed something flash across Old Tong’s eyes. Something like hatred, but mixed with anguish.
‘But this revenge came so late, forty years after the event...’ Lok said.
‘Ah, in this scenario, vengeance began a long time ago. Why kill, when it’s so much more fun to make your victim suffer a living hell?’
Inspector Lok stared at Old Tong. He knew very well this ‘supposition’ was really a confession, but the fact Old Tong was willing to say all this meant only one thing: he was certain the inspector would be unable to find hard evidence.
‘For instance?’
‘For instance, letting the bastard die.’
‘Wasn’t that a car accident?’
‘Car accidents can be man-made. A little damage to the steering column, or pedals, or brakes. For a young speed demon, that’d inevitably be fatal. Of course, the remains of the car were destroyed long ago, so you’ll have to treat it as an accident – this is just “supposition”.’