The Snakeheads

by Mary Moylum

“Where do I begin? How do I know Wa Sing? Through my mother. She’s known him since she was a young woman, more than half a lifetime. He helped me get my political appointment on the bench. Yes, he did.” She pushed a wet strand of hair out of her eyes. “I was practising law then. Just another lawyer in a big downtown law firm. I hated it. I hated adding up the hours and the minutes, right down to the seconds. I hated the concept of billable hours. I felt sleazy as I wrote out huge invoices and pushed them into my clients’ hands. I didn’t know what else to do with my law degree. I had to do what the firm required.” She dropped her head into her hands. After a long moment of silence, she looked up. “Then I met Wa Sing. He told me I was wasting my time. He offered to help. To resurrect my career.”

  Nick understood perfectly. He saw it at least once a week, all the ambulance-chasers outside detention centres, looking for business among the jailed and the deportees. The ones who thought that they were hot shit spent their time in plush surroundings, kissing asses as they begged for appointments to the political trough or on corporate boards. The roster of just about every corporate board and government agency was over-represented with lawyers. A glut of them on the market had made it impossible for any but the seasoned veterans to earn a comfy living. He knew too many lawyers too well. He knew the ones with connections had fled the profession, moved on, like rats fleeing a sinking ship.

  Her head was turned away from him, looking out the window into some middle distance. After a long silence, she continued, “Just before the present government took power, he came to me, like a fairy godfather, and said he could get me a political appointment to the bench. I asked him how. He told me that he had made generous campaign contributions to half a dozen politicians running for office. Fortunately for him and for me, he had backed the right political party. After they won, Wa Sing called in his favours. The politicians he funded now owed him. Within a matter of months, Wa Sing started dispensing favours. Out of friendship for my mother, he did this for me. I’m not the only one he blessed. But I don’t know who the others are. He’s never told me and I’ve never asked.”

  Her voice was even and filled with resignation. “It’s not a subject that I bring up because it isn’t always understood. I don’t think I was unqualified, or that I didn’t deserve the appointment, but I didn’t work for it. I’m not exactly proud of that. I felt that I had lost integrity. It made me ashamed. In my family, we work for our achievements. My family and friends treated me as if I had done something special. Something extraordinary. I hadn’t.”

  She exhaled, and slumped lower in her chair. Her hands twisted the sash of her robe.

  “In our family, if someone does you a favour, you owe them one. It’s that simple. Wa Sing never brought it up. Not until now. Until now I never had to choose between bringing integrity to my work and showing my gratitude for a favour done years ago.” Finally she looked up and met his eyes. “No, I never told you any of this. You’ve always kept your integrity intact, always lived by your own strict code, each and every day. How could I tell you? I thought you would think less of me. You see, I wanted you to think I was worth having.”

  “What deal have you struck now? To go positive on Sun Sui?”

  “I was asked to. But I haven’t struck any deals. I can’t, and I won’t. If I do go positive, it will be because of the merits of the case. But if I found in Sun Sui’s favour, and you knew about my history with Wa Sing, how could I ever be sure you believed in me? But I’ve longed to tell you about it. It’s been very hard. It’s not just Wa Sing who’s pushing me.”

  “There’s someone else?”

  “My boss. He says his boss is pushing for a positive decision.”

  “Your boss’s boss? That would be the minister of immigration? My boss?”

  “I suppose so, Nick,” she said in a soft voice. “Can you get past this? Can our relationship get past this?”

  He walked to her side and reached for her hand. She gave it, looking up at him tentatively. Had he forgiven her?

  “It’s not over yet,” he said. “I’ve put out an arrest warrant for Wa Sing. The RCMP at the Singapore embassy have finally caught up with him. He’s on a plane home as we speak. I thought you should hear about it from me.”

  “Why, Nick?”

  “I’m going to subpoena him to testify against Sun.”

  “What makes you think he will?”

  “If he doesn’t, I’ll treat him as a hostile witness. But I’m hoping he’ll cooperate. I’ll dangle immunity in front of him.”

  “Then we’re on opposite sides on this one Nick. I can’t stand idly if he’s been arrested and is locked up in detention somewhere. I have to help him. Then my debt to him will be repaid. It’ll be easier than going positive on Sun Sui.”

  Nick fell silent as he stood by her side.

  “I guess we shouldn’t see each other until this case is over.”

  “I guess you’re right.”

  She sighed deeply.

  “The first time our relationship ended it was because of David. But my marriage was over, really. I let it be about my husband, as an excuse. In a way I was relieved when you ended it, because it meant I wouldn’t have to come clean on this. The truth was, I simply didn’t know how to. David understood how these things are done. Those plum diplomatic jobs are all by appointments. In that regard we deserved each other.”

  He reached out his hand to her again, but she ignored it.

  “God, if I had known I would have to pay this high a price for a job I accepted years ago, would I have said yes?” She ran her fingers through her hair, and wrapped the sash more tightly around her waist.

  He watched her, feeling sorry for her. Accepting one favour, years before had taken a huge personal toll on her emotional well-being.

  “I believe you, Grace.”

  “Thanks, Nick. Now I’ve no more secrets in my closet. And I’m not in cahoots with anyone.”

  He reached out to her and pulled her into his arms. As he embraced her, as he spoke the words of forgiveness, another part of his mind was working, thinking.

  “I’ve got an idea, Grace. I think it would be very useful if we found out who else benefited from Wa Sing’s benevolence.”

  “You mean who also received political appointments and favours?”

  “Yes.”

  “How am I going to do that?”

  “I don’t know, Grace. You know him, I don’t. I’ll leave that to you.”

  “I’ll think about it. If I get the chance, I’ll ask him. If he refuses to divulge names, then that’s the end of that. I won’t push him.”

  Nick nodded. “His flight touches down in three hours.”

  After he left her house, he went for a long walk in a nearby park and ruminated on what she had told him. He had always suspected something along those lines, except he had thought it was her ex-husband who had sponsored her political appointment. But in light of her membership in the Asia Business Council and her mother’s friendship with Wa Sing, it made perfect sense for the old man to sponsor her. But what he was left with was exactly what she feared. He doubted her. How could he be sure she would not be influenced by her obligation to repay a favour owed? Could he really trust her to be an impartial decision maker, to judge Sun’s case on its exclusion merits? He was pretty sure that Sun was the ringleader, the Don, of the Flying Dragons. If she rejected his asylum claim, Nick would know she was honest. Or would he? Wasn’t he putting pressure on her now, just as the others were, from the other side? One thing he knew for sure: Grace was in a difficult position. He hoped she would be able to make a fair and impartial decision. And when the decision was made, he hoped the trust between them would be restored. He wanted to believe in her.

  The afternoon sun hovered between the buildings. Heat and humidity filled the air. Li Mann Vu checked for signs of a tail as he left the travel agency. The street scene around him appeared normal. A low rent district with its share of transients on the street. Weather-beaten apartment buildings o
wned by slumlords. A soiled ribbon of storefronts that catered to immigrants and the down-and-out. Li Mann smiled to himself as he tucked the one-way ticket in his back pocket. He fitted right into the neighbourhood in the east end of Ottawa.

  After the woman, one more job and he was going home. Soon he would be back on Vietnamese soil. Soon he would hail a truck that doubled as a taxi and take the road leading into Ho Chi Minh City. He would see farmers in conical hats who were already hoisting baskets of produce to market, and animal vendors were peddling cages of parrots, monkeys, and wildcats.

  If his luck held out, he could be in Da Nang at the end of the week or early next week. He just had one more job to do. The trick was, how to kill three birds with one stone. He mulled on that thought as he walked toward his car. He reached for the parking ticket stuck to his windshield wiper, ripped it in half before tossing it in the gutter.

  At the end of the day, Nick and Dubois were at the airport to greet Wa Sing as he disembarked from his flight from Singapore. Wa Sing’s lawyer, a flamboyant-looking man in his late thirties, was waiting, too.

  “Mr. Sing,” said Nick, pausing. “I trust your flight wasn’t too taxing.”

  Dubois remained silent. Diplomacy wasn’t his strong suit. But at least he held his rudeness in check.

  Nick wondered briefly when Wa Sing had had the opportunity to alert his lawyer, Mulcahy, to his predicament. Dealing with lawyers would make his work all the more difficult. The goal in bringing Wa Sing back into the country was to find out what he knew about Sun Sui. Now every scrap of information would be given out warily, after long consideration. It would be like a chess match.

  Wa Sing looked down glumly at the handcuffs on his wrists.

  “You can make life easier for yourself if you cooperate,” said Nick. “We’re not interested in you, but in what you know.”

  Mulcahy jumped in. “Before my client provides any information, we want to know what’s on the table. Because as we all know, my client has not been charged with any offences. You allege that he made illegal campaign contributions. If he’s charged, then it should only be fair that those on the receiving end of campaign contributions be charged as well.”

  “Our investigation isn’t about him. After he provides us with the information we need, he’s free to go.”

  “Showing good faith by removing the handcuffs would be a nice start,” said Mulcahy.

  “We can accommodate that,” replied Dubois, reaching into his back pocket for the key.

  Wa Sing whispered something in the ear of his lawyer.

  “Excuse me for a minute,” said Mulcahy, as they walked toward a bank of telephones. After a brief conversation, he returned and spoke a few words to his client. Then they all climbed into the back of an RCMP paddy wagon.

  “My client wishes to ask a friend to meet him at the police station.”

  “I see nothing wrong with that,” said Nick. Would the friend turn out to be Grace?

  The lawyer made a quick call, and they were on their way. When they got to the RCMP headquarters, she was already there, waiting for them. She did not greet him, or look at him. Nick watched her engaged in conversation with the old man. For the first time, he saw the deference in her manner. And wondered if it was the same for all the others who had benefited from the old man’s largesse?

  Dubois found a room large enough for all five participants. Nick, in his shirtsleeves, sat at the head of the table. He and Dubois laid out the terms of the deal they were prepared to offer.

  “We’ll give him immunity from prosecution if he cooperates and provides us with the information we need.”

  Wa Sing shook his head vigorously. “No, I can’t cooperate.”

  Grace grabbed his armed and whispered furiously in his ear. But the old man kept shaking his head.

  She stared straight at Nick, “He doesn’t have the information you want. That’s why he can’t help you.”

  “Bullshit!” announced Dubois.

  Nick directed his gaze at Mulcahy. “If that’s the game he wants to play, then more than one can play it. I’m going to subpoena him as a hostile witness to give evidence on what he knows about a man claiming asylum whose case is currently being heard. When I’m finished with him, the RCMP will take him into custody and grill him on the details of his campaign contributions. There’s a paper trail of close to a million dollars moving from offshore banks to his account, and then out again as cheques he wrote to political parties. Particularly the present government.”

  Nick saw a look of shock cross Grace’s face. Was she only now realizing that Wa Sing wasn’t just an unimportant minor player in this, but one of its kingpins?

  Mulcahy ordered Wa Sing not to answer any questions.

  Dubois had been leaning back in his chair, listening and watching the proceedings. Now he took over. Nick knew how much he loved doing this — pushing people up against the wall and watching them crumble. Only the strongest survived. “We want to know who he’s fronting for? Is it the Chinese government? The Taiwanese government? The triads? And which politicians he was told to back? And what the politicians have to do in exchange for winning? I want a lot of info. Else he ain’t gonna see the light of day anytime soon.”

  The negotiation of the prisoner’s rights versus information given continued throughout the evening. At points in the discussion, it turned nasty, with name calling on all sides. Wa Sing didn’t seem overly concerned with his plight. He sat stoically, with lips pursed, chin jutting out, while his lawyer spun argument after argument. Grace spoke little, just sat and watched the players in the interrogation room. Nick observed her watching the point-counterpoint match between the participants. It gave him an idea. Maybe the way to reach the old man was through her. He called for a recess and asked to speak to her privately.

  “Grace, he’s in a difficult situation. I don’t want an old man sitting in some jail cell all night. I can tell Dubois that if you put up bail, we can put him up in a hotel. A warm bed is better than a jail cell. But I want you to talk to him, get him to cooperate. It’s a quid pro quo kind of thing.”

  “Believe me, I don’t want him sitting in a jail cell either. With a bunch of hardened criminals.”

  “We both know he’s in serious trouble. First, his name shows up on a list before a senate inquiry and he’s asked to testify on illegal slush fund contributions. Next thing you know he’s left the country. Not good. He’s got quite a few strikes against him, I’d say. Cooperation is the only thing that’s going to save his bacon. Grace, you know where I’m coming from. I’m gunning for Sun Sui. I want to know what he knows about Sun. That’s all. I don’t care about whose campaign he contributed to. My advice to you on this is remember it’s Dubois’ show. Satisfy him with names and he’ll deal.”

  Grace looked at him directly for the first time that day. “Nick, I’ll talk to him.”

  She talked to Wa Sing alone while Nick, Dubois, and Mulcahy waited outside the interrogation room. After twenty-five minutes she emerged and asked them to come back in.

  Wa Sing spoke up, looking at Grace. “I made several contributions to politicians in the last federal election. You’re right. The contributions totalled just over one million dollars.”

  “The names of those who received contributions?” Dubois had his pen poised over paper.

  “Your boss,” he said, glancing from Nick to Grace.

  Dubois dropped his pen on the floor. He didn’t bother picking it up, as he pushed his chair back. He and Nick left the room to confer, discussing Wa Sing’s information and where it pointed.

  “Where the money went to is bad enough, never mind where the money came from. I wouldn’t be surprised if the government told him to take a long vacation outside the country. I’ve been in this business too long. It’s obvious that the politicians want one thing and the bureaucrats want to call an inquiry. No way the politicians are going to allow a senate inquiry to go ahead and bring down one of their own. A cabinet minister like the minister of immigrat
ion carries a lot of weight in the government. No way we’ll be allowed to press charges. It’s way too political. Career suicide for all of us. Nick, we walk away. Put it all behind us.”

  Nick said nothing for a moment. He looked at Dubois with an expression the RCMP officer couldn’t read. “Let’s go back in there,” he said.

  Back in the room, Nick ignored Mulcahy as he spun Wa Sing’s chair around until the old man came face to face with him.

  “Tell me about Sun Sui.”

  “What’s there to tell?”

  “Don’t toy with me, old man.”

  Finally Wa Sing sighed and said, “Sun is a Red Prince. He comes from one of China’s hundred or so elite families. I can’t speak ill of him. He has the ear of the Mandarins in power over there. He’s good to do business with, but there’s much to fear if one is on the receiving end of his displeasure.”

  “What about his triad links to the Flying Dragons? Where is he on the ladder of people smuggling?”

  The old man shook his head. “I can’t say more.”

  “I’m sorry, but you’ll have to testify. I’ve already prepared documents to subpoena you,” said Nick.

  “I can’t speak against Sun. You don’t know what he’s like. The last person who spoke against him was his business partner in Hong Kong. And he was shot dead.”

  Dubois interrupted. “Nick, let’s go slow here. His testimony in refugee court could cause political damage.”

  “Do I give a shit about political damage? All I want to know is the link between Sun Sui and Li Mann Vu, the man who pulled the trigger that night Walter was killed. Since I can’t get my hands on Li Mann, I’ll settle for Sun.”

  “I don’t know anyone called Li Mann.”

  “Don’t lie to me!” yelled Nick.

  “Stop badgering my client,” Mulcahy warned Nick.

  Dubois turned to Nick and said, “It smells bad to me. That’s all I’m saying. But if you’re prepared to get him on the witness stand, I’ll back you. But for me, I ain’t gonna waste energy on pursuing charges of illegal campaign contributions ’cause I know better. I’ve been in the business too long.”