China Wife

by Hedley Harrison

  The diamond exchange was easily enough accomplished.

  Neither woman had ever been to Antwerp but the trip opened up possibilities in Linda’s mind.

  As she waited for Rose to complete her transaction in the sort of street-side café that she had never come across before, Linda had what she later described to herself as a crisis of conscience.

  ‘What am I doing here?’ she silently asked the world around her. ‘I’m actively helping him to make yet more illegal money! Why don’t I just go round the corner to the nearest police station and hand myself in and tell them everything?’

  Perhaps for the first time Linda realised just how far-fetched the story that she would have to tell would be. Kidnapped in Britain. Shipped to Canada and across the Pacific Ocean to Australia partly in a box? No Belgian policeman would understand her English probably, let alone give credit to her story. She’d have to wait until she was in England; her former Border Agency colleagues would certainly understand her story.

  ‘But would they believe it? Why didn’t I try to escape? Surely the life of luxury and my acceptance of it would throw doubt on my credibility?’

  For Linda, denying her the opportunity to take her son when she went on her trips was the key issue. But would the British authorities see it as such a powerful control weapon? Surely, they would simply apply to the Chinese authorities for protection for the child. However, Linda knew how it would be.

  ‘They’d always decide in favour of a man!’

  Her son belonged to her husband in Chinese eyes; she was nothing.

  As she drained her coffee cup, Linda was aware of another feeling. It didn’t replace the pain that thinking about her son always brought to her but it was powerful.

  ‘Actually, I’m enjoying this!’

  It was a thought that she was conscious had been there for some time; certainly she was aware of the feeling of satisfaction after she had brought the two schoolgirls back to China. Her dealings with the villainous Mr Kim and the gang leaders in England had been successful, despite her being a despised woman; that had made her feel good, too.

  Her thoughts didn’t get any further. Rose had re-joined her. But once started she knew that somewhere in her brain this feeling of value and achievement would mature. She was going to have a hard time rationalising it against the sordid reality of what she had been forced into.

  ‘But,’ her Border Agency mind assured her, ‘you haven’t yet done anything that a judge would accept as proven as unlawful in the UK.’

  Mr Hu had shown Rose two photographs. One looked like a college reunion; three rather disordered rows of smiling men all grinning broadly. Some were sporting baseball caps – a thing that Mr Hu hated – others were bare headed. As her husband ran his finger over the photograph, Rose had a feeling that the capped and un-capped young men were deliberately arranged in particular groups. She couldn’t imagine why they should have been.

  The second photograph was a panoramic wildlife scene taken in Africa. A pride of lions lounged in the obvious heat of the day next to a group of zebra. Some of the zebra were feeding; some were clearly alert, head up and on guard.

  ‘You will arrive on 27 August,’ Hu said. ‘It’s important that you hand these two photographs to my cousin at the Allied China Bank in London Wall that day.’

  The Bank’s address was written on the envelope containing the photographs.

  ‘What could be easier?’

  Rose was chilled by the tone in which her husband asked the question. There was somehow a threat in the innocent query that terrified her.

  She didn’t tell Linda any of this when they arrived at Heathrow from Antwerp; only that she had a meeting at the bank in question.

  For Mr Hu, the trip to Antwerp was a way to realise the value of some diamonds that he had been given while his companies were building a major infrastructure project in Zambia. The fact the donor was now sitting uncomfortably in a Zambian jail didn’t seem to bother him.

  And it was a way to preserve the profits from his business activities. A realist, Mr Hu, like Mr Shi and many of their business colleagues, anticipated that one day the Communist regime would be swept away, hopefully peacefully, and he would be able to enjoy his capitalist wealth in his own country.

  With the outflow of private capital from the People’s Republic actively discouraged when the sources of the capital were perhaps not as transparent as the Chinese Government would have wished, access to electronic banking was fundamental. And with the photographs that Rose was carrying having the capability to be read in conjunction with a particular date in numerical terms, Mr Hu’s nephew had all the information that was necessary to make transfers to the various offshore bank accounts far from China that he had set up for the head of his family.

  Rose Zhu, of course – as she and Linda Shen emerged from the Heathrow immigration queue – had no idea about the transfers that she was initiating. Linda nodded towards Rose as the latter passed seamlessly into the hands of the inevitable minder and then set off to the brief meeting with her husband’s nephew, following which she embarked on an expensive but totally innocent shopping trip. The most injurious accusation that could have been levelled against Hu was of an extravagant indulgence of his new and very pretty wife.

  Left in the VIP car park awaiting the limousine that was to take her into Central London, Linda herself smiled sweetly at her own minder, confident in the knowledge that he, unlike Rose’s attendant, was her man not her husband’s.

  And while Rose exhausted the spending allowance that she had been given, Linda recovered her UK mobile phone and made a number of transactions and searched a number of websites. The consequence was the evidence that she had been seeking that confirmed that Julie Kershawe had indeed gone to Australia under a cloud. It was a piece of unfinished business from Linda’s previous visits to the UK that had left her dissatisfied.

  ‘Julie is as honest as any woman I know. There’s something not right here.’

  That she was making enquiries didn’t go unnoticed and a number of rather more secret emails from the Border Agency and Security Services brought Linda not only to the continuing notice of the authorities in Britain but also now to those in Australia. With the protection of Julie Kershawe/Li being paramount, the reports on Linda were embargoed for transmission to the Chinese authorities.

  30

  The two women queuing at the check-in at Brisbane International Airport had the security officials scratching their heads. Muslim women were not unknown, although they were often students who tended towards a more corrupted and westernised form of their traditional dress. But these two women were absolutely traditional. However, a recent fracas with a Saudi princess gave the officials pause before they approached them.

  ‘We’re supposed to be looking out for two Chinese women; how the hell can we tell what these are?’

  The senior Federal Immigration officer was irritated enough by the instruction – watch out for the two women, verify them, don’t make any fuss, just put them through the normal processes and let them carry on with their journey. He didn’t have time for this; stopping people entering Australia was more his business.

  The lesser immigration officer, who was of Chinese origin, grinned. The two women checking in were Chinese. The Chinese features and the Muslim dress would normally have simply said Uighur to him, but the instructions from Canberra were specific.

  ‘It’s them,’ the Chinese immigration officer said.

  The check-in clerk showed him the passports.

  The whole charade was being observed.

  ‘What now?’

  There was nothing more for the immigration officers to do.

  Mr Kim, trying unsuccessfully to look inconspicuous on the concourse, was uneasy. The Muslim dress wasn’t his idea, but Julie Li was adamant that it was the best way to hide Alice’s features. Looking around him he could see no other Muslim women; he felt that his objection was justified. They did stand out among the usual run of travellers.


  However, from her experience during a student prank Julie knew that there would be a reluctance to interfere with them dressed as they were.

  Alice, wearing a brown burka that reached to just above her ankles and pale trousers, led the way with Julie, in the all-embracing black so frequently seen on television, following. The impression of mistress and servant was implied by the definitions in the passports which the immigration officer took with him as he led the two women into a backroom. Kim noted that their luggage continued on its way to the aircraft. In recognition of the sensitivities of the Muslim community, their passports were clearly going to be checked in private.

  Alice stood in the corner of the cramped immigration office, her senses dulled by the drugs that Mr Kim had given her; she was hardly aware of what was going on.

  ‘The Chinese authorities will let you through Hong Kong,’ Alan had said.

  Despite her earlier expectation of never seeing Alan again, Julie had been pleased to see her Security Service colleague; it gave her confidence that someone was watching over her. She’d always known that she was likely to have to go from Australia to China, but it was only as Mr Kim spelled out the arrangements for her that she understood that she would be going on her own with Alice. Kim made a point of telling her that she would be watched every step of the way and any variation from the plan would be noted and action taken.

  Mr Kim’s emphasis on action being taken left Julie in no doubt that the dreaded Mr Xu and his cohorts would have no hesitation in killing her if they thought that she was creating problems for them.

  ‘We’ll be met at Hong Kong and tickets will be available for us there to fly on to Shanghai.’

  Julie filled Alan in on Kim’s plan. She confirmed Shanghai as their stated ultimate destination and how things would be handled in Hong Kong, to be sure both that she had them clear and that the various authorities involved were fully in the picture. Alan undertook to update the Chinese.

  ‘What happened to the other girl you picked up at Lake Mulwala?’

  Julie was surprised how well informed Alan was.

  ‘She was handed over to a couple of Chinese thugs at Warwick. I assume she’ll be going separately.’

  Julie noted Alan’s lack of concern about Janice. It rather confirmed her feeling that there was something not quite right about Alice’s erstwhile companion. Her confidence and her lack of the mind-numbing anxiety that afflicted Alice had impressed and surprised Julie.

  ‘All I know, Alan, is that Kim has different instructions about her from Xu.’

  Even Mr Kim had seemed to sense something different about Janice.

  ‘Kim treats her far more respectfully. I guess it’s because he doesn’t frighten her like he does Alice.’

  ‘OK. We’ll talk to the Chinese.’

  When he did, he got nothing from them beyond the clear impression that they weren’t telling him everything, but they also weren’t surprised to hear how Janice was being treated.

  The immigration officer took Julie and Alice back into the check-in area and then through to the departure lounge. It was an unnecessarily lengthy journey; Julie realised that their departure was being advertised to those watching.

  Mr Kim noted the manoeuvre, as he was supposed to do, and left the airport.

  With Julie and Alice now in transit and detached from the trafficking organisation in Australia, things were about to change dramatically for the Chinese groups running it. With information on the bulk of the chain now being available to the Federal Police, an endgame strategy was in place and awaited only a signal from Canberra for a four-state police operation to swing into action. The signal depended both on the confirmation by the Security Service that Alice was on her way, which had been given, and contact being made with Janice Liang and the party holding her. This had yet to occur.

  ‘At least we now know what this is all about,’ Alan remarked to his superiors at a subsequent presentation. ‘And why our Chinese colleagues are soon keen to stamp it out.’

  The residents of Coolangatta had never seen anything quite like it. Used to the boisterous and unruly surfing community, who were capable of raising a riot during the surfing season on almost any pretext, a car chase through their streets was definitely a novelty.

  Mr Kim left Brisbane Airport and headed south on to the highway, initially unaware that anybody was taking any interest in him. But he was being tracked.

  ‘Oh, shit!’

  The realisation that he was being followed first by an unmarked car that made no attempt to disguise itself turned to anger and then concern as the chase was taken up by a blue light-blazing patrol car. Kim accelerated. The police car accelerated. He was definitely being followed.

  Cutting in on a family Holden bumbling along between Surfer’s Paradise and Currumbin, Kim swerved then swerved again to correct his steering. The semi-trailer that he was trying to avoid honked loudly and the driver made an unmistakably angry gesture at the following police driver.

  More used to driving on UK roads, Kim forced himself to ignore the shock of the near miss and push his vehicle harder. However, the chase wasn’t going to last long. Coming up behind a nine-axle truck, he was forced to slow down. This was something way beyond his experience; he had never encountered such a vehicle before, let alone attempted to get past something as long. Cramped by the police car, it soon became obvious that his only way of escape would be by taking the risk of passing the truck at a point where the police car couldn’t follow him.

  Mr Kim was sweating. The road curved. Vehicles roared along it from the opposite direction. He knew he had to take his chance. When it came, he was just too slow to accelerate. Cutting in on the truck before he impaled himself on a fast-approaching petrol tanker, he felt the slight nudge as his back wing grazed the truck’s front bumper. The car spun.

  Watching a blurred panorama of the road verge and the traffic passing in the other lane, Kim jerked at the steering wheel and for a moment the vehicle seemed to straighten itself out. But it was heading for the verge and a coppice of disorganised gum trees. The roadside embankment took the force out of the car’s motion, Kim flew forward and then back as his seatbelt kept him from exiting the vehicle through the wind-screen. Stunned by the force that threw him back into his seat, his head crashed against the rest; he didn’t move.

  ‘He’s OK!’

  The arriving patrolman’s concern faded as he urged a groggy Mr Kim out of the car and to stand against its side. Kim’s usual fight had gone. Handcuffed and arrested, he soon recognised the pointlessness of resistance when he had recovered himself.

  Three days later Mr Kim was on a flight himself. The judge in the federal court in Melbourne, after hearing all the arguments, decided that the severity of the charges that had been laid against Mr Kim in Australia was marginally less than those that had accumulated in the UK, Canada and the US, and shipped him off to London. However, he did keep a lien on Kim for when he had served his time in these other countries.

  Janice Liang, whose hidden strengths had begun to emerge during her captivity at Lake Mulwala, had quickly worked out that Mr Xu’s organisation was based on a cell system in which none of the individuals had direct contact with one other. Communication was only via the cell leaders to Mr Xu or one of his trusted lieutenants. Mr Kim, Kim Lee Sung, was one of these more trusted lieutenants.

  However, for the moment there had been a setback as far as Janice was concerned. Despite the interruption at Lake Mulwala caused by local rivalries and the loss of face in Melbourne that resulted from Alice’s seizure and her own, Janice had assumed that transferring her to Kim’s group and joining Alice Hou was a part of the plan to get them both to Shanghai. That Shanghai was their destination was one of the positive things that had come out of her imprisonment by the lake. Seemingly, however, getting the two girls together was only an interim arrangement.

  So what is this Kim guy’s role then?

  Despite the bouts of sex with her captors at the lake that
she had signalled her willingness to take part in, she had learned very little. That Kim gave the orders in Australia, that he was away a lot in Europe and he was much feared amounted to very little useful intelligence.

  All that shagging was for nothing!

  Janice suppressed the notion that she had enjoyed a lot of the sex.

  The two thugs who had collected her at Warwick were contemptuous of her and as a consequence lax in their security of her. At no time did they secure her feet and she easily loosened the ropes that bound her wrists.

  What a bunch of useless amateurs!

  As they headed back out of Warwick towards New South Wales, Janice sensed that the two men were worried. Concentrating on the driver she realised that he was constantly checking his mirror.

  We’re being followed, she thought.

  Making an exaggerated series of movements that advertised that she couldn’t use her hands, she pulled herself against the seatbelt until she could see in the passenger-side wing mirror.

  They were being followed; and it wasn’t by a police car.

  In fact, as became clear when they reached a relatively straight and deserted stretch of road, they were being followed by two cars.

  A sudden blast of noise as the first following car accelerated and pulled alongside alerted Janice to some impending action.

  ‘It’s those bastards from Lake Mulwala,’ she said aloud.

  The car was trying to force them off the road. The second car was accelerating but not pulling out. The jarring crunch from behind told Janice, and her minders, that they were also being rammed. She slipped her hands free of the ropes that bound her wrists.

  As she realised what was happening, it was clear to Janice that she didn’t want to be captured by the Melbourne gang that were now pursuing them. That would be a major setback.

  A consultation between driver and passenger that was so rapid that Janice couldn’t catch what had been said at least told her that the two men realised the position they were in and were intending to fight back.

  A violent jerk of the steering wheel at the approach to a bend forced the car alongside them off the road. Where it ended up and in what state Janice never knew and at the time really didn’t care. They had shortened the odds. Thrown sideways by the driver’s action, she stayed below the level of the back seat. It seemed to be the safest place until things sorted themselves out again.