Lights Out

by Stopforth, W. J.

  Whatever they were discussing it was clear that the man was frustrated.

  Hearing someone enter the building, the contractor spun around to face Ryan.

  Ryan noticed that his hair was slicked back and thinning, but it was still dark. His face was round and smooth which made Ryan think that under other circumstances that it could have been a happy face smiling back at him not a frightened one. Ryan could see beads of sweat forming into small droplets on his forehead, his expression was one of helplessness and desperation and he had fear in his eyes.

  Seeing that Ryan offered no threat, the old man swiftly turned his attention back to the security officer; his eyes now wide open with fear and determination. Shaking uncontrollably he stuffed one hand into the hold all bag and pulled out a handgun thrusting it in the direction of the security officers shouting instructions. He dropped the bag on to the floor and began to wave the gun around in the air, his words becoming more frantic and loud.

  Ryan was frozen to the spot, his feet unable to move as he watched the event quickly unfold before him.

  “Get down” suddenly one of the security officers yelled at Ryan jolting him out of his trance. Immediately Ryan threw himself down onto the cold hard floor, his newspaper scattered out in front of him, the pages opening up and gracefully gliding to a halt. His coffee cup hit the ground to his left and Ryan watched silently as the brown steaming liquid slowly seeped across the white marble floor. Ryan kept his eyes down toward the floor as he covered his head with his hands. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest against the cold floor. Above him, all that he could hear was the turbulent shouts of the old man and the officers in a tongue that he couldn’t understand.

  Less than a second later a loud noise cracked high above Ryan’s head. He knew instinctively that a gun had been fired.

  Ryan slowly lifted his head and stole a glance at the three men. For a moment they all stood facing each other, perfectly still and silent as though someone had pressed a pause button.

  To begin with Ryan couldn’t tell who had fired the shot. Then, slowly, the contractor took an unsteady step backwards. His arm dropped to his side and the gun clattered loudly to the floor, echoing around them as it spun to a standstill in front of Ryan. The old man slowly crumpled sideways, his head hitting the hard marble floor resounding with a sickening thud, followed by deafening silence.

  Ryan slowly stood up. His legs felt shaky and heavy and his heart was still pumping wildly. He looked over at the man now lying on the floor just a few feet away. He could see a pool of blood forming underneath his back and a dark patch seeping through the fabric on his chest, slowly changing the colour from pale grey to a dark inky black.

  The dead mans head lay to the side and his eyes looked in Ryan’s direction, still open and fixed. His mouth sagged a little and a small line of blood trickled down his chin and dripped without a sound onto the floor.

  Ryan looked around him. Both security officers were now on their radios, shouting loudly in Cantonese. Ryan could hear a siren in the background, but his head was pounding. All he could think about in that moment was that John McIntyre’s clean slate had just been tarnished and that his hangover had abruptly turned into a nightmare.

  Chapter 3

  Ryan looked around him. It was such a basic, simple room. Cold.

  He sat on an uncomfortable black plastic chair at a square white Formica table. Two empty chairs were positioned opposite him.

  A steaming cup of Chinese tea in a plastic holder was just to his left. Ryan watched the tealeaves slowly unravel in the hot water, until they finally descended to the bottom of the cup.

  He looked around. There were no windows in the room, just a single door. Above his head he could see strip lighting. One of the long glass lights was flickering slightly causing it to make a loud buzzing noise in the quiet room.

  The door, directly in front of Ryan, opened and two plain clothed Police officers walked in. The male officer sat down opposite him. He looked very young, although to Ryan all Chinese people seemed to look younger than they were. Ryan guessed that he must be in his mid-twenties. He wore blue jeans, and a freshly ironed white Polo t-shirt. On his wrist was a sporty looking IWC. Probably a fake, Ryan thought.

  The woman that accompanied him also looked young, but he thought probably closer to her mid thirties. She was dressed much smarter than her colleague. She had black slim fitting pants with a matching suit jacket and a crisp white shirt underneath. Her thick black hair was pulled into a high ponytail, tight against her head. Her complexion was smooth and even, and her skin tone olive. Ryan noticed that she had dark, almost black eyes. Ryan considered that she looked mixed race rather than completely Chinese making him wonder where she was from. Her face was angular and serious and she didn’t smile.

  She sat down promptly and turned her attention to Ryan.

  “Mr Harper, I’m Detective Inspector Lam, and this is Detective Officer Chow”, Sarah Lam motioned to the young Chinese man to her right, surprising Ryan that he could already be a DI at such a young age.

  “Apologies if you have been kept waiting. I can see that you have some tea already. Is there anything else that I can get for you?” Her English was faultless. Clearly a rich kid educated overseas, Ryan thought, surprising himself that he felt so irritated.

  “Maybe just an ashtray, I really need a cigarette.” He replied whilst fishing out a crumpled packet from his jeans and placing it on the table in front of him.

  “No problem”, the young Detective Officer Chow eagerly stood up and left the room in search of an ashtray, whilst Ryan pulled out a cigarette and proceeded to light it.

  Sarah Lam broke the silence. “I just have a few questions for you, it shouldn’t take long.” She said as she opened her file and arranged the papers inside. From where he was sitting Ryan could clearly see photographs of the dead Chinese man in between sheets of hand written reports.

  Chow re-entered the room slightly out of breath and holding triumphantly a plastic cup, which he promptly passed to Ryan with an apologetic smile.

  “It’s all I could find.”

  “Thanks’ Ryan said, balancing his cigarette on the edge of the cup.

  Ryan switched his gaze to Lam and waited for the questions.

  “Just explain in your own words what actually happened this morning.” Detective Inspector Lam pulled her chair closer toward the table. As she leaned in Ryan noticed her jacket flap open slightly revealing the corner of a shoulder holster. He shifted in his chair. Lam, aware that Ryan was looking at her, pulled her jacket in and quickly buttoned up the front.

  “At the beginning I had no idea how serious the situation was. I was a bit pre-occupied watching a road accident that had just happened. It was only as I got really close to the Bank entrance that I could see two of my security officers arguing with an old man.” Ryan picked up the perched cigarette from the edge of the plastic cup and took a long drag, pulling the smoke into his lungs before gently blowing in out.

  “Yet you still decided to enter the building?” Lam looked directly at Ryan. He wondered if she was trying to intimidate him. She didn’t. Maybe this was her tactic when interviewing people, he thought. Everyone is a suspect.

  “Detective Lam, I don’t speak Cantonese, I had no idea what they were arguing about, or how serious the situation was. I held back for a few seconds, but then decided to walk through to see whether there was anything that I could do. If I’d even thought for a second that this guy might have a gun, I would have kept my distance. Believe it or not, I don’t have a death wish Detective” Ryan said curtly as he flicked his ash into the cup watching it crumble into a pile of dust.

  “Do you recall seeing anyone else close to the entrance, or anyone looking suspicious?” Lam asked whilst Chow sat next her scribbling notes.

  Ryan took another long drag of his cigarette and thought back to the events of just a few hours ago.

  “No, nothing unusual. People walk past the entrance all the time. It�
��s a public courtyard and a short cut between the two main roads.” He was less curt now, wanting to get through this quickly so that he could leave.

  “Can I just ask, who was the old man? He looked so out of place there and genuinely frightened.” Ryan asked Lam.

  “The suspect had no identification on his person. We think that he may be from the mainland, but we have quite a bit of work to do before we can verify that.” Lam responded.

  “And of course there’s no CCTV footage for you to look through”. Ryan said, almost apologetically.

  Lam shot Officer Chow a sideways glance. Then turned her attention back to Ryan.

  “Yes, of course you would know about that. Due to the Banks timely security upgrade, we have no way of seeing which direction he entered and the exact time frame and sequence of events. We only have your account and the two security officers at this stage.” Lam finished. Ryan could sense that Lam was annoyed. He had only been in her company for a short amount of time, but already he could feel that she didn’t like him much. He didn’t know why. He had just been in the wrong place at the wrong time, an innocent bystander. The way in which she had conducted the interview was making Ryan feel the same way about her.

  Ryan was starting to feel dizzy, the effects of adrenaline and lack of food in his stomach and the cigarette was starting to take effect. He hadn’t even had his morning caffeine fix, having left the contents of his drink on the marble floor at the bank. He looked at his watch. It was already 09:30am. He’d been there for two hours already.

  Noticing Ryan check his watch Lam quickly continued not wanting her key witness to lose interest.

  “One final question Mr Harper then you are free to go. Exactly what time did you enter the building this morning?” Lam asked. Chow’s pen was poised over his notes.

  “Oh, it was just after 7am, I’ve been in early this week because of the renovations and the CCTV upgrades.” Ryan replied, suddenly feeling drained.

  “Thank you, Mr Harper. Do you have any business trips or personal travel planned over the coming few days at all?” Lam asked.

  “No, No plans, I’ll be in Hong Kong if you need me.” Ryan responded flatly, desperate for the questions to be finished so that he could leave. As if reading his mind, Lam leaned across the table and passed Ryan a business card.

  “If you think of anything else,” she said tapping the card with her finger. “Just call.”

  Ryan stood on the steps outside the Police Station and looked up at the sky. It was still overcast and humid, but at least the rain was holding off.

  He thought about going back to the bank, but knew that he’d have more questions to answer there, so he quickly decided against it. He just wanted to go home, it’s not every day that a man get’s shot in front of you, he thought, justifying his decision.

  Ryan stepped into the road and waved for a taxi. Within seconds a bright red Toyota pulled to a halt beside him and Ryan climbed in.

  ‘The Peak please, Cameron Mansions.” Ryan said as he sank deep into the back seat and closed his eyes.

  The driver silently nodded, flicked on the meter and merged into the busy traffic.

  Across the street a black Mercedes-Benz with dual number plates slowly pulled away from the curb.

  Chapter 4

  Fifteen minutes later Ryan walked into his apartment and threw his keys on the hall table.

  He felt tired. He pulled his shirt out of his jeans, and kicked his shoes off making himself feel more comfortable.

  Needing some background noise he reached for the TV remote and punched the green on button, then headed to the kitchen to make some much needed coffee.

  Ryan considered everything that had happened that morning as he prepared his coffee. He felt like he’d walked onto the set of a movie, the whole event had been so unreal. It had been over in just a few minutes, but the replay in Ryan’s head was now in slow motion. He kept getting flashes of the old mans face, the sound of the gun and the sight of the dark blood slowly spreading across the floor. Ryan shook away the thoughts.

  John McIntyre had been surprisingly understanding with Ryan when he called, considering the enormity of what it actually meant for the Bank and it’s pristine record. John ordered Ryan to take the rest of the day off. He would call him if the Police needed any more information. Meanwhile John would handle the Bank’s Directors and the media. Ryan wondered if RSG would pull his contract early, but then if he thought about it rationally, the attempted breach was unsuccessful, the only problem was the dead Chinese man. No one wanted a dead man on their hands, especially if you are a security company or a bank.

  Luckily for Ryan it was Friday and he had the luxury of the weekend to get his head straight and then he’d be back to work as normal on Monday, no big deal, he thought.

  Ryan finished making his coffee and headed back to the lounge. He slumped his tired body into an armchair and picked up the remote control increasing the volume in an attempt to block out all thoughts.

  A young enthusiastic female news reporter stood with a large microphone outside the front entrance of the Asia World Bank.

  “Joining me live is Detective Inspector Lam to comment on this mornings attempted robbery at the World Asia Bank, which resulted in the death of an unknown gunman”. The reporter turned toward Lam as the cameraman panned out to show the Detective and the reporter standing together. The yellow and black police tape was still visible behind them, blocking off the bank’s main entrance whilst the general public jostled for position behind a line of police officers to get a better look.

  “Detective Inspector Lam, Thank you for joining us. Hong Kong is normally a very safe City. In fact in Hong Kong’s history there has never been an attempted Bank robbery before. What can you tell us about this morning’s events?”

  The cameraman moved the camera and focused in on Detective Inspector Sarah Lam. She looked uncomfortable, Ryan thought. She was professional looking in her dark suit with her severe tied back hair, but her body language told him that she was not a natural in front of the camera and was hating every minute of it. He watched with interest now.

  ‘Thank you Kate”. Lam offered a brief smile to the reporter. ”It is a highly unusual event for Hong Kong and we are treating this case in isolation. We are still in the process of identifying the gunman. We cannot confirm at this stage whether this was in fact an attempted Bank robbery, but we have not ruled this out entirely.”

  Lam said and then turned to face the camera directly.

  “I would urge members of the public that have any information regarding the shooting to come forward. The Bank has offered a substantial financial reward for any information that would shed light on the identity of the man in question as well as related information regarding the event this morning.” Turning back to the young reporter Lam nodded signaling that she was done. “Thank you detective Lam”. The cameraman zoomed back into the reporter as she continued to repeat the same story again, whilst in the background, Ryan could see Lam walking back toward the bank and away from the camera and crowds.

  Ryan shook his head. “Incredible”. He said out loud. Ryan lent back in his chair and sipped his coffee, they don’t have the faintest idea where to start, he thought.

  In the background the news continued, this time from inside the newsroom.

  ‘Protests erupted in Central again this morning after an environmental bill was rejected. The controversial ‘Lights Out’ organization have been publically lobbying local manufacturers to pay fines on environmental waste dumped in unauthorized locations around Hong Kong and the New Territories.

  This is an ongoing campaign for the improvement of air pollution in Hong Kong. Their normally high profile theatrical protests have drawn negative support from Government officials and policy makers over the last few months. However, their current ‘Lights Out’ campaign enlisting major Banks, Retailers and Hotels to agree to actually switch off their lights for eight minutes on the eighth of August, in support of the Campaign, has
started to draw Global attention forcing officials to finally start listening.’

  The TV projected still images of various dumpsites across the territory, areas that Ryan didn’t recognize. In some of the shots it showed industrial waste piled up high, sitting precariously on top of unkempt landfills full to the brim with plastic, twisted metal, canisters with hazardous signs, pools of black liquid sitting in puddles. All over flowing into un-spoilt areas of the countryside.

  Ryan hit the volume button to ‘mute’ drained his coffee and fished into his pocket for his cigarettes.

  His mobile phone rang. He picked it up to check the caller ID, lit his cigarette and pressed the call button.

  “Hi Rob’, Ryan answered in a tired voice, lazily blowing out the cigarette smoke at the same time.

  ‘Ryan, I’ve just heard the news. The office is buzzing with the story. I can’t believe what happened to you. How are you feeling? Why didn’t you call me?’ The friendly familiar voice spoke quickly with concern and just a trace of excitement. Ryan thought.

  Ryan was happy to hear his friends voice and pleased to have a distraction.

  ‘I’m fine, really I’m fine, still dazed a bit, it’s all completely surreal.’ Ryan paused not knowing how else to describe how he felt.

  “ I know”, Rob interrupted, “Oh, hang on, another call’s coming through. Listen, I have to take this. I’ll come over tonight at Eight. Take it easy buddy.’

  ‘OK, but I’m not really in the.’ Click. Ryan heard the sound of the phone being switched off before he could even finish his sentence. Ryan smiled to himself and sighed at the thought of Rob. He was always in a hurry, like a whirlwind, Ryan thought. He lay down on the couch and closed his tired eyes for just a moment. Within seconds he was asleep, his breathing fitful and fast, his cigarette burning slowly between the index and middle finger of his left hand. The hot ash crumbled onto the floor next to him, whilst the smoke danced and spiraled, twisting up toward the ceiling as he fell deeper into a troubled sleep.