The Dragon Head of Hong Kong

by Ian Hamilton

  It was, by Western standards, a strange family structure. But in Hong Kong it wasn’t that unusual among the wealthy for a man to have more than one wife and family. There were rules of engagement, and as long as everyone followed those rules, the system worked.

  Jennie had been working in a company that Marcus owned when they met. They fell in love, embarked on their marriage of sorts, and the girls followed. She knew from the outset that he would never leave his first wife, and that his sons would inherit his estate when he passed. She thought she could manage the situation, but her emotions eventually got the best of her. When things got really bad, Marcus sent her to Vancouver. She lasted two years there before the cold and the dampness got to her. Then she and the girls moved to Toronto and settled in Richmond Hill.

  Oddly, the distance between Marcus and Jennie saved their relationship. They talked every day on the phone and he spent two weeks a year with her. He loved the girls, and he supported them and Jennie in a style that was comfortable if not luxurious. He had bought her a house, paid for a new car every three years, provided a monthly allowance, and covered the expenses of the girls’ private-school education and extracurricular activities.

  To Ava’s knowledge there had never been another man in Jennie’s life. As far as her mother was concerned, Marcus was her husband and he had her complete loyalty. Similarly, both Marian and Ava never thought of him as anything but their father. That they saw him for only two weeks a year wasn’t that much different from the lives of their Chinese friends at school. There were, Ava realized later, a great many second and third wives in Toronto. Her mother said that Toronto’s most elite private schools would be half-empty without their offspring.

  When Ava was in her late teens, her relationship with her father began a subtle change. Instead of communicating with her through Jennie, he would call her directly. He had a keen interest in her education, making quiet comparisons between her progress through the accounting programs at York University and Babson and the educations his sons were receiving. She knew Marcus often spoke to Jennie about his other children, but she found it awkward when he did so with her. Still, she listened politely and didn’t ask if he was as open with his first wife and four sons when it came to the subject of his Canadian family.

  Ava looked at her watch and saw that it was too early to call Hong Kong. She reheated some noodles with shrimp in the microwave and sat on the couch to watch television. The couch had come from her mother’s basement. Marian had lost her virginity on it. Ava had lost hers in her dorm, to the captain of the women’s soccer team, when she was a freshman at York University.

  Hong Kong was twelve hours ahead of Toronto, so Ava waited until eight thirty before she phoned, figuring that her father would be in his car by then, working his way down Victoria Peak to his office in Central. She dialled his cell.

  “Hello, sweetheart,” he said after two rings.

  “I hope this is convenient,” she said.

  “I’m in the car.”

  “So you can talk?”

  “Of course, but it’s rather strange for you to call like this. Has something happened to Mummy?”

  “No, she’s fine. I have a business problem I wanted to discuss with you.”

  “This has to do with your new business?”

  “Yes.”

  “Mummy said it was going well.”

  “Well enough, but I have a client who has a problem,” she said. “He’s been shipping containers of chicken feet to Hong Kong and the buyer has decided to renege on paying the invoices.”

  “My knowledge of chicken feet is restricted to ordering them in a restaurant.”

  “My client is owed a million dollars.”

  “Hong Kong?”

  “American.”

  “That’s serious.”

  “He’s asked me to try to locate the money. That’s something I’m trained to do, but I have no idea what legal remedies are available to us in Hong Kong if I do find it.”

  “Has the importer been making quality claims?”

  “How did you know that?”

  “It’s the oldest con game around. They say there’s a quality problem with the shipment and use that as an excuse not to pay or to heavily discount. Of course, they suck in the exporter by paying in full for the initial loads before the claims start. But once they start, they escalate. And if your client doesn’t buy the lies and decides to sue, the importer throws the claims at you and keeps you tied up legally for months. Once he thinks he’s exhausted the law, he just stops negotiating and disappears.”

  “Have you gone through something like this?”

  “No, but I can send you to ten people who have.”

  “What do they do about it? My client has gone to collection agencies, but none of them seem to want to take it on.”

  “Is the importer triad?” Marcus Lee asked quietly.

  Ava paused. “I have no idea.”

  “That’s one possibility. The other is that he’s just smart. It isn’t hard to set up a company in Hong Kong and then in Guangzhou and Shenzhen and move around the goods and the money. The law gets complicated.”

  “I’m told he’s smart.”

  “Then it will be difficult.”

  “What if I find the money? Is there anything I can do to claw it back?”

  “Ava, you’re getting into some dangerous waters.”

  “Daddy, I’m only asking what’s possible.”

  “Normally — and I’m telling you this second-hand, you understand — finding the money is the least important part of the equation for the people here who are expert at collecting debts. The first thing they want is the debtor. Once they have their hands on him, the money — or what’s left of it — has a way of coming home.”

  “I see.”

  “Do you?”

  “I think so.”

  “It isn’t the kind of thing you want to be involved in.”

  “What do they charge to collect a debt?”

  “Ava!”

  “I’m just asking.”

  He paused and Ava expected him to put her off. “Thirty percent,” he said.

  “Wow.”

  “I know it sounds like a lot, but it’s the going rate,” Marcus Lee said. “So what are you thinking of doing about this client of yours?”

  “He needs help.”

  “And you’re trained to provide it,” Marcus said, and then paused. “I have to say I was a little surprised when your mother told me about your new venture. Never mind that all those years at York and Babson equipped you to do more. All I kept thinking was how bored you must be. You’ve always struck me as a girl who has a very low threshold for boredom.”

  “I wouldn’t do this because I’m bored,” Ava said, surprised that her father could read her so well. “I would only do it if I thought I could help Mr. Lo.”

  ( 4 )

  SHE DIDN’T SLEEP well. Her conversation with her father kept circling around her head. He was right; she was bored. All those years of education were being wasted doing basic accounting for people who could do it themselves if they bothered. And the amount of money Lo had lost wasn’t insignificant, she told herself. It was certainly worth an effort to recover it. Then she smiled. Even if she got back only a tenth of what was owed, she wanted to go after it, as long as Lo was prepared to pay at least her expenses.

  She called him at nine o’clock. “Mr. Lo, this is Ava Lee. I’ve been thinking about Kung Imports. Could you come by my office around ten?”

  “Are you going to go after him?”

  “Is ten okay?”

  “Does this mean you’ve decided to do it?”

  “I need to talk to you before I make my final decision, and I don’t want to do it over the phone.”

  “I’ll be there.”

  “And just in case, please bring a
ll the contact information you have for Kung. I want every phone number, every address, and the names of everyone you know who is acquainted with him. If you have any photos of him, bring those too.”

  Lo showed up on time and sat in the same chair he had the day before. But this was a different man. The desperation was gone from his eyes and his demeanour seemed, if not confident, at least composed.

  “My wife sends her regards, and her thanks for taking this on for us,” he said.

  “We need to discuss my terms before that becomes a reality.”

  “I’m sure they will be reasonable,” he said. “Besides, at this point you’re my only option. I can’t imagine what you might ask for that I can’t agree to.”

  Ava stared at him across the desk, not sure if he was being sincere or if he was in some sly way appealing to her sense of fairness. “You do understand that I’ll have to go to Hong Kong. I can’t do this from here.”

  “Yes.”

  “And you will have to pay my expenses.”

  “Momentai.”

  “I won’t go crazy, so don’t worry about that.”

  “I’m not worried,” he said, and paused. “Would you object, though, to using some Marco Polo miles I have, to book your flight on Cathay Pacific?”

  “No, I guess not.”

  “And the hotel I stayed in last time was a good deal for Hong Kong.”

  “As long as it’s clean and well situated.”

  “It’s both,” he said. “Once I know when you’re leaving, I’ll book it for you.”

  “Thanks,” Ava said, keenly aware that, only option or not, Lo was already negotiating. “Now there’s the question of my fee.”

  “What do you want, some daily rate?”

  “I thought about that and decided against it. I mean, I could spend two weeks traipsing around Hong Kong and not recover a dollar, and you’d be out of pocket even more money,” she said. “I think the fairest thing is for me to take a percentage of whatever money I can recover.”

  “Do you have a number in mind?” he said carefully.

  “I made some phone calls last night. The people I spoke to told me that collection agencies in Hong Kong normally charge thirty percent.”

  His face fell.

  “Mr. Lo, you told me you contacted some collection agencies there. Is that number inaccurate?”

  “No, but there weren’t any expenses involved.”

  “You weren’t their client, and you are mine. So, given the nature of our relationship and the expenses being paid, I am proposing that I keep ten percent of what I collect.”

  “Do we deduct your expenses from that?”

  “No.”

  “I wasn’t being picky,” he said quickly in response to her firm tone. “I just wanted things to be clear.”

  “And are they?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well then, you should book me on the earliest possible flight to Hong Kong and organize the hotel. Now, did you bring the information I asked for?”

  He slid a large brown envelope across the desk. “Everything I have on Kung is in here.”

  ( 5 )

  THE CATHAY PACIFIC plane began its slow and steady descent to Chek Lap Kok airport almost an hour before it was scheduled to land. This would be Ava’s fourth trip to Hong Kong. The other three had been with her mother and sister to visit Jennie’s family and friends there. They hadn’t seen Marcus — or at least the girls hadn’t. Jennie had left them alone in their hotel room on two nights, saying that she had mah-jong games. Marian believed her. Ava didn’t.

  “Will you see your father?” Jennie had asked when Ava told her that she was going to Hong Kong to try to help Hedrick Lo.

  “I don’t have any plans to. I’m there on business.”

  “Still, you won’t mind if I tell him that you’re there?”

  “No.”

  “What hotel did you book?”

  “The Oriental Crocus.”

  “I’ve never heard of it. Is it part of the Mandarin Oriental chain?”

  “Hardly. It’s a three-star hotel in Mong Kok.”

  “Why did you choose that?”

  “I didn’t. Mr. Lo did. He’s paying.”

  “He’s cheap.”

  “He told me he’s stayed there himself and it isn’t so bad. The office of the importer he was working with is nearby, so it’s convenient.”

  “He probably wants to save money on taxis. Or did he actually tell you to take the MTR?”

  “Mummy, you’re the one who asked me to help him.”

  “I know.” Jennie sighed. “It’s just that the idea of you going to Hong Kong alone is kind of odd. You’ve never been there without me. I want to feel that you’re safe, and a three-star hotel in Mong Kok doesn’t sound secure.”

  “You know I’m perfectly capable of looking after myself.”

  “I still worry.”

  “Don’t, and don’t harass me when I’m there either, or ask Daddy to check up on me. I’m going there to work. I don’t need to be babysat and I don’t need any distractions.”

  Jennie became quiet, and Ava knew her mother was probably offended by her directness and her tone. This was how many of the conversations between them ended — Ava declaring her independence; her mother acting hurt; Ava saying, “I’m sorry, I know you love me”; and Jennie replying, “I know, and I also know you will do exactly whatever you want to do regardless of what I say.” This time Ava added, “I do promise that if I run into any serious problems, I’ll call Daddy.”

  Ava had taken a limousine to Pearson International Airport to catch the Cathay flight. It departed at ten thirty in the evening and, after crossing the international dateline, would land her in Hong Kong at six in the morning two days later. She spent most of the day of her departure fussing about what to take with her. Her travel experience was limited to holidays, when she packed casual clothes, and major upheavals such as moving from Toronto to Wellesley, when she took just about everything she owned. This was her first extended business trip and she was unsure about what to pack. She finally decided to restrict herself to business wear and her running gear. Four Brooks Brothers shirts, two pairs of black slacks, a pencil skirt, two pairs of pumps, slippers, underwear for a week, and her cosmetics bag filled a suitcase. She stuffed her running shorts, socks, and T-shirts into a carry-on and wore her running shoes, track pants, and jacket to the airport.

  Because it was a last-minute booking, Ava was assigned a window seat in the rear of the economy section. She shared the row with an elderly Chinese couple, who told her they were going back to Hong Kong for Chinese New Year in March. Ava asked why they were going four weeks before the actual event.

  “To visit with friends,” the woman said in Cantonese. “Our children are in Toronto, but we still miss our Hong Kong friends.”

  Ava was fluent in Cantonese. It was the language spoken in her mother’s house six days a week. Mandarin was Sunday’s language, and Ava spoke it passably after ten years of Saturday classes and Sunday practice.

  The flight took sixteen hours. After learning everything she could about her seatmates in less than an hour, Ava retreated to the video programming and then fell asleep. She woke somewhere over the Pacific with a burning need to pee. The Chinese couple had fallen asleep with their legs stretched out. The seats in front were pushed back as far as they could go. Ava would have to be part contortionist to slip between the seats and the couple and get to the aisle. She was five feet three inches tall and weighed about a hundred and fifteen pounds. If she’d been larger or less lithe, she wouldn’t have made it out and back without stepping on the elderly couple.

  When she had settled back into her seat, she tried to sleep again, but it was already morning in Toronto and there was no convincing her body that it was otherwise. She reached into her bag and pulled out the paper
work that Lo had given her. There were multiple addresses and phone numbers for Kung Imports. Disconcertingly, the purchase orders didn’t have a company address on them, other than “Mong Kok.” There were phone and fax numbers and an email address on the POs, but Ava had tried them before she left Toronto. No one answered the phone or responded to her fax or email. She checked the wire transfers that Kung had sent to Lo. They had been issued by a bank in Shenzhen, not Hong Kong. Why hadn’t she noticed that before? Well, for one thing, her job had been to make sure the money added up. It was Lo’s responsibility to make sure he wasn’t getting cheated.

  The last thing she looked at was two pictures of Lo with the man he said was Kung. They were in a nightclub or karaoke bar. The men were sitting on a couch in front of a small round table that held several glasses and a bottle of Johnnie Walker Blue Label Scotch. Ava was no expert on Scotch, but she knew that Blue Label was the premium brand. Two women in evening dresses were draped over the men’s shoulders; one of them had her tongue in Kung’s ear. Both men had silly grins splashed across their faces. Ava had no idea how tall Kung was, but he was broad across the shoulders, and burly. He had a full head of black hair that was combed back, and his face was round and fleshy under the eyes and the jaw. The shape of his face was oddly out of sorts with a rather delicate nose and thin lips. What an odd-looking man, Ava thought.

  She put the photos and the other paperwork back into the envelope and took out a pen and a Moleskine notebook from her bag. On top of the first page she wrote KUNG — LO and then detailed every fact she thought was relevant. Her plan was to find Kung and discuss the accounts payable situation in a professional, businesslike manner. If that didn’t work, she would threaten him with lawsuits. If that failed, she would call on the banks with his purchase orders and Lo’s invoices in hand and see if she could get their co-operation. Beyond that, she wasn’t sure what else she could do.

  As the plane continued to glide towards Hong Kong, Ava looked out the window and saw the first hint of morning sun. It peeked out from just beyond the horizon, the South China Sea glimmering under the light it cast. The sea was alive with ships. Ava counted more than twenty in her immediate view. Hong Kong was one of the world’s largest container ports; the traffic below was waiting to enter the harbour, steaming towards it, or already fully loaded and headed out to another destination. The plane was flying low enough now that, among the massive tankers, freighters, and container ships, Ava could pick out sampans and what looked like fishing boats. It was, she thought, all so exotic — almost romantic — and it reminded her of how different life was in this part of the world.