The Gaze of Caprice (The Caprice Trilogy Book 1)

by Cole Reid

  • • •

  The playful blue and yellow light tagged the dull black of the Astra, as it pulled up to the storefront. The shine-less Astra didn’t tag back, too dull to play. It was a little convenience store on Pine Street in Kowloon, so little it wasn’t convenient. Two aisles were made by a shelf in the middle of the store, a store much longer than it was wide. Xiaoyu and the others couldn’t find parking in front of the convenience store, so Liu Ping let Xiaoyu out in front of the store. Xiaoyu walked in and saw a 20-something man with spiked hair and orange tips. He wore a black shirt and blue jeans with chain. Black eyeliner and lipstick accented his back-from-the-dead appearance.

  “You’re the soldier?” he asked. Xiaoyu nodded.

  “See the tattoo before you believe him,” said a voice that came from out of view.

  “Let’s see the tattoo,” said the man with spiked hair. Xiaoyu took off his leather jacket and removed his shirt. Holding the jacket in his right hand and shirt in his left, he did a full turn. When he came round he saw another young person standing in the store. He had solid green hair—long hair—combed down the front of his face concealing one eye. The other eye had a stud pierced through the eyebrow. He wore deep green lipstick to match his green hair and had a ring piercing through his lip. He wore a green tie-dyed shirt and black jeans, no chain.

  “You can do another turn if you want,” said green hair.

  “Jade Soldier meet Jade,” said the one with spiked hair.

  “You’re the Movers?” said Xiaoyu.

  “Not all of them silly,” said Jade, “Just the best looking ones.”

  “He thinks he’s funny. I’m Lionel,” said spiked hair, “Where are the rest of you?”

  “Parking,” said Xiaoyu.

  “Call them and tell them to stay in their cars. What we have to show is for you only, to help us maintain our neutrality. We will show you what we have and that’s it. You decide where you want to go from there,” said Lionel. Xiaoyu nodded in agreement and called Liu Ping. He nodded to Lionel after he finished the call. Lionel nodded back. Lionel and Jade were a modern twist on an ancient pairing, the Brick Movers. The Movers got their start as vassals to the Ming Dynasty before becoming servants to the Qing Emperors. They were Imperial China’s most prolific intelligence gatherers for centuries until the Republic of China, when they moved to British-controlled Hong Kong. They were called the Brick Movers, owing to the ancient practice of sharing secrets late at night through brick walls. One loose brick was removable from each side of a city wall. Only one person knew the location of the removable brick on each side of the wall, which required the pairing of movers. With both bricks removed, two movers could share information through a hole in a wall too high to go over or wide to go around. In modern Hong Kong, there were no emperors to serve. The Movers stayed true to their roots by evolving into a society of computer hackers and information brokers. They were familiar to the Triads and swore an oath of neutrality since the fall of the Qing Dynasty. They assisted the Triads in and administrative role that didn’t require them to break their oath. And they sold information to the Triads, not being loyal to any branch but offering information to the branch that would be most interested. This was easy to know when finding sensitive information about a member of one of the branches. The Dragon Head would want to know if a member of his Triad was in a relationship with his daughter or another member of his Triad. The Triads and Movers formed a natural alliance. Between hacking and smuggling, both fell on the same side of the law. The most important combination between Movers and Triads was the administration of The Tank. The Kowloon Town Fish Emporium & Market on Tonkin Street, where The Tank was located, was owned and operated by the Movers, as was the betting on fistfights below. The Triads favored the arrangement because of the neutrality of the Movers. It provided safeguards against collusion or match-fixing. Like the Triads, the Movers blended sources of income, light and shadow.

  Xiaoyu followed Lionel and Jade into the backroom of the store. The backroom was tiny in size with big implications. It was a large closet and held as many secrets. The room was stacked with computer monitors. One showed a split view of the store from back and front angle. The others had a six-way split screen, three on top and three on bottom, and the views were from everywhere. Some were traffic cameras. Some were cameras in the Hong Kong subway system. Others were cameras in random locations. Still others were of public administration buildings. The Movers had found a way to patch into closed-circuit cameras throughout Hong Kong and hijack the feedback, with minimal risk. Xiaoyu looked at the many monitors in the backroom. The entire operation was as intricate as the tattoo on his body.

  “It looks cool but there’s one drawback,” said Lionel, “To avoid being detected we have to stream at a low bandwidth.”

  “Correction. Very low bandwidth,” said Jade.

  “If we take too much too fast, they get snow in their image. Then they’ll know something’s wrong,” said Lionel, “The images we’re looking at aren’t live, they’re about six minutes old. Jade wrote a rapid compiler program to sort everything fast enough so the images stream as though they’re live.”

  “You’re welcome,” said Jade.

  “We’re in their system, just on the bottom of it,” said Lionel.

  “And you like it on the bottom,” said Jade.

  “What do you have for me?” asked Xiaoyu.

  “We have to take the money first with no refund,” said Lionel, “It is worth it. We’d lose our credibility if we sold scraps.”

  “I know,” said Xiaoyu pulling out a white envelope from his back pocket. Xiaoyu handed the envelope to Lionel, who handed it to Jade without looking inside. Lionel cued the mouse sitting idle on the desk in front of Xiaoyu. He scrolled through a drive with many file headings before opening a folder with a single video file: HKPF-HQ_AUG-06-2000.

  “Here,” said Lionel handing Xiaoyu a pair of well used headphones.

  “You can open the file yourself,” said Lionel, “Just click on it.” Xiaoyu clicked on the file to open a new all black window. The words Loading… appeared followed by a black and white video recording. The video was time stamped August 6, 2000. A Sunday. The video camera should not have been working, but it was. The video showed a simple room with simple chairs and simple table. There were two men seated at opposite sides of the table. The video was clear enough to see the smoke rising from the cigarettes they both held. One man could be seen from the front, but Xiaoyu didn’t recognize him. The other man was seen mostly from a side angle, the camera was in the corner of the room. Although Xiaoyu could only see the side of the man’s face, the face was easy for him to recognize, Deni Tam. Sound quality on the video wasn’t good, but the high-quality headphones made the difference. From context, Xiaoyu could understand the man talking to Deni was a policeman, non-uniformed and high-ranking. Xiaoyu listened to the conversation and realized he had severely misjudged Deni. He had always took Deni for a coward. In reality, Deni was much more than that. Paranoid. Immature. A control-freak.

  In the video Deni looked calm, legs folded gently puffing his cigarette. On the audio, Deni was spilling his guts. He told the policeman Uncle Woo’s selection of a Jade Soldier was unprecedented and meant things were shaking up. He complained that he was worried about his position in the Moon Dragons’ Triad. He felt like the ground was being pulled out from under him. After all, the Jade Soldier would report directly to Uncle Woo, the Dragon Head. The Jade Soldier would be acting under orders from Uncle Woo alone. Deni saw Uncle Woo was trying to build his own army outside of Deni’s command. He didn’t like it. He felt cornered. He realized he had to make new alliances—the other man at the table. Deni referred to the other man as Inspector Mak. Xiaoyu memorized the name. All alliances had rules to govern them. Deni came to the meeting with the rules ready, shut down the Triads—not just the Moon Dragons, everyone. Deni offered Inspector Mak the keystone, Uncle Woo. With Uncle Woo dead, Deni would become Dragon Head and control the Moons
. Uncle Woo’s Murder would be framed on the other Dragon Heads—all of them—decapitating the other Triad branches. In the ensuing chaos, Deni would hand over everything about the Triads’ organizations: hotels; warehouses; account ledgers; drug stashes; money laundering methods; banks; murders; pier numbers; boat names; dummy corporations and all the players. The deal was a windfall for the Hong Kong Police Force. With one fell swoop they could do something they hadn’t done in fifty years of trying—no Triads.

  Inspector Mak felt the deal was too sweet to pass up and too juicy to pass on. He let Deni take care of the details. He would look the other way. Deni would be given a get out of jail free card and get to keep any of the Moons’ off book assets. Deni planned to wind down all illegal operations and turn the hotels into a legitimate chain. He joked he could list his new company on the Hong Kong Stock Exchange in five years time—in ten years, New York. The video ended. Xiaoyu stared at the black screen for two good minutes before taking off the headphones.

  “Make a copy,” said Xiaoyu.

  “That wasn’t the deal,” said Lionel, “We don’t do that.”

  “Make a copy,” said Xiaoyu still staring at the screen.

  “You have to understand, we are neutral,” said Lionel, “We are neutral. If copies of what we sell were floating around it would interfere with our ability to stay neutral.”

  “I leave with a copy,” said Xiaoyu, “My squad will wait until I tell them. All eight of them. You wanna keep them waiting? And me?”

  “Make the copy, monkey,” said Jade, “Rules were made to be broken. We do it all the time. Besides, if he doesn’t kick your ass I will.” Lionel looked begrudgingly at Jade.

  “Bitch,” said Lionel pulling a CD from a drawer behind him.

  “I am,” said Jade. Lionel put the CD into the CPU tower below the table and transferred the video file to the CD. He ejected the CD and gave it to Xiaoyu.

  “At least be discreet about where you got it,” said Lionel.

  “No idea what you’re talking about,” said Xiaoyu putting the CD in his jacket, “No idea even who you are.” Xiaoyu walked out of the backroom and stood still. The lights of the black Astra beamed in the distance until Liu Ping stopped the car in front of Xiaoyu. Xiaoyu opened the door and sat in the passenger seat next to Liu Ping.

  “Where we going now?” asked Liu Ping.

  “I need a computer,” said Xiaoyu.

  As the three cars landed on Hong Kong Island, Xiaoyu sent the caravan in a roundabout direction. He told the cars to circle the block while he registered for one hour at the internet café. His search led him to the Hong Kong Police Force website where he scrolled through photos with no luck. He went to the home page of the Kowloon Atlas, a gritty publication covering the Hong Kong crime beat. Inspector Mak’s name was entered as a search query, with eight hits. Deputy Inspector Winslow Mak was a somewhat prominent member of the Organized Crimes Unit. His arrests were centered on tip offs and creative leads. Beneath the surface of journalism, it was a given that Mak operated on both sides of the law. The fourth article even had a three year-old picture. Xiaoyu enlarged the photo and printed it. He took the photo with him leaving thirty-one minutes of his registered time. Standing outside in the rain, Liu Ping circled the block and picked him up.

  “What is that?” Liu Ping asked.

  “Something’s changed,” said Xiaoyu. The rest of the ride was made in silence with Xiaoyu looking out the window. Rain droplets glowed like light seeds on the window, scattering the light. The light in Xiaoyu’s mind—though—was focused. He only needed to confirm something he already knew. He led the group back to Jervois Street. The others went for food. Xiaoyu didn’t join them. He sat with his legs crossed and his elbows on his knees. He rested his chin on his hands, clasped together. Liu Ping stayed as well. Liu Ping walked up to the second level of the garage and found Xiaoyu staring off. With only Liu Ping to listen, Xiaoyu showed him the disc and told him what was on it.

  “We’re going to kill this cop?” asked Liu Ping. Xiaoyu moved his eyes—not his head—in Liu Ping’s direction. Xiaoyu nodded and looked down at the floor.

  “And Deni?” asked Liu Ping.

  “Think about it,” said Xiaoyu.

  “I have thought about it, but I need you to say it,” said Liu Ping.

  “Why?” asked Xiaoyu.

  “Because after we kill this cop, we’re going to kill one of ours,” said Liu Ping, “For me, this is the only family I know. Can’t even remember my parents. Most of us would be dead or in jail if it weren’t for this. Now you want to rip it all apart for the sake of someone who is already dead.”

  “I’m not ripping it apart, someone else is moving quicker than I am,” said Xiaoyu, “I’m doing what I’m meant to. You can make something complicated out of something simple. Or you can follow me like you’re meant to.”

  “Why say someone else? Why don’t you say his name? You’re the Jade Soldier. You’re not afraid of it,” said Liu Ping. Xiaoyu got up from his blanket and walked toward the far wall.

  “The one who celebrated after Uncle Woo was killed. The one who stole and blamed it on others. The one who killed my mother’s brother and took pictures to record it,” said Xiaoyu, “Deni Tam.”

  “Is this personal or you doing what you’re meant to?” asked Liu Ping.

  “You see this?” said Xiaoyu showing the tattoos on his arm, “There’s no space between lines. No place where the ink ends and the skin begins. It’s all just me. I’ll kill him no matter the consequence. If the Moon Dragons are over because of what I do, then the Moon Dragons chose it themselves. Because they chose me.”

  “You’ve waged a war against the other Triads. What will become of us if we turn against ourselves?” asked Liu Ping. Xiaoyu turned around and looked at Liu Ping.

  “You’ll know soon enough,” said Xiaoyu.

  • • •

  Xiaoyu wanted witnesses, not caring about Triad rules. Before daybreak, he would break two. The modern Triads were against public execution. They had lawyers for real estate deals but didn’t need telling the less witnesses the better. The Triads had a Golden Rule of not killing in the presence of non-Triads. If an example had to be made, it was to be made in front of those who needed an example. All other deaths were dealt with discretion. A member of the Hong Kong Police Force was an exception that proved the rule. Xiaoyu’s war had already changed the rules. His death had to be for a reason bigger than the rule itself. In Xiaoyu’s eyes, the rule hadn’t applied since Uncle Woo’s death. He wanted an uprising, by the public and the Police Force. Most of all, he wanted all eyes to take a closer look at Inspector Mak and uncover his kept secrets. Death was a silent partner. After his death, Inspector Mak would be vilified under investigation. Xiaoyu felt assured Mak would leave behind a paper trail of carbon copies, linking him to protections and payoffs. Above all, Xiaoyu wanted to shame Mak and the Hong Kong Police Force. If the rule against public killing was golden, there was also a Silver Rule—almost as important. Out of respect for each other, the several Triad branches avoided creating a crime scene in outside territory. If a member of a single-branch Triad started dealing on the side or stealing, it was to be kept in house. Triads disciplined their members in their own territory, especially if the discipline was permanent. The Triads respected each other’s territories. The Golden Masters never minded Uncle Woo coming frequently to the Mynah Prime Palace. His only interests were to eat, drink, smoke and be merry. Had he come to wheel and deal, heads would roll. Xiaoyu’s presence in the Masters’ territory caused the rolling of more than just heads.

  • • •

  The sky was teasing, showing its colorful side before the onslaught of night. It was a pre-spring Saturday—March 3, 2001—Xiaoyu’s twentieth birthday. Neon lights competed with shoppers to own the coming night. Two collaborating cars were parked in separate locations along Granville Road in Kowloon. The black Astra was foremost and the green GT was 40-meters behind. The plan was well thought out. Only
Liu Ping and Huang Sitian sat in the Astra. The group would occupy Granville Road and watch Inspector Winslow Mak as he went in and out of shops. Huang Sitian would be on the street to distract Mak. A masked Yue Tian and Lin Jun would come out of the GT and close in shooting Inspector Mak’s legs out from under him. Xiaoyu—without a gun—would come and finish the job with a pocketknife. He wanted to leave a mess. Yi Le would drive the GT. Xiaoyu and the two others in on the murder would jump in the GT and leave Mak to bleed to death in the street. The others would stay at the scene and call out activity. Liu Ping was in command until Xiaoyu, Yue Tian, Yi Le and Lin Jun returned to Jervois Street. Xiaoyu and the death squad would drop their car in a preordained drop spot, a parking garage on Bristol Avenue. They would switch plates on the GT to confuse the drop point and leave in the Civic. Xiaoyu would ride in the trunk so four men would enter in a GT but only three would leave in the Civic. Xiaoyu saw himself standing out more than the others making him easier to remember and describe. They were all safer with him in the trunk. He would stay in the trunk until the car arrived in the Jervois Street garage.

  Inspector Mak was a window-shopper, he walked slowly up Granville Road surveying—inspecting. He walked with a calm demeanor and visited one shoe shop for seven minutes out of forty-two. The rest of his time was spent staring into windows. Huang Sitian got out of the Astra and looked back at the GT. He walked down Granville pretending badly to be casual. He set his mind on the necessity of Mak’s death, a precursor to his limited involvement. He told himself he was helping to put out a fire—that was not far from true.