Black Horn (A Creasy novel Book 4) Read online

  Creasy looked at his adopted son and said in a very reasonable voice, ‘There are two reasons, Michael. One is that I was asked to do the job by Jim Grainger, and he’s been a good friend to both of us. Right now he’s looking after your sister in America. The other reason is that, although we’re not broke by any means, we need the money. That last operation cost a fortune.’

  Michael was shuffling the cards. He looked up and said, ‘You once told me that we don’t work for anyone we don’t like.’

  ‘That’s correct.’

  ‘I don’t like Gloria Manners.’

  Creasy’s voice lost its reasonable tone. ‘You make judgements after just a few minutes’ conversation with somebody?’

  Michael was obstinate. ‘It doesn’t take more than a few seconds to know whether you like somebody or not.’

  Creasy leaned forward and his voice now became harsh. ‘That makes you stupid, and I don’t like to work with people who are stupid. It can be fatal. Personally, I don’t like Mrs Manners — but I don’t dislike her. I’m reserving my judgement. I advise you to do the same. Otherwise, when we land in Brussels, you can fuck your little girlfriend and then go back to Gozo, while I find someone intelligent to work with me. Believe it when I tell you that there would be many takers. The money is good and the target is a criminal. We stand on moral ground.’

  There was a long silence as Michael continued to shuffle the cards, then he said, ‘It’s just that I hate that bitch . . . Maybe it’s my background. Maybe all those years of being told what to do and not having any way out made me hate people like Gloria Manners on sight.’

  Creasy said bluntly, ‘You had better stop feeling sorry for yourself, and you had better make up your mind before we land in Brussels in a couple of hours. I don’t take orders from Mrs Manners and neither do you. But you damn well take orders from me. If you don’t like that you can fuck off.’ He stood up and began to move further down the aircraft.

  Michael’s voice stopped him. ‘Creasy. Of course I’ll follow your orders. Just keep me away from her.’

  Creasy turned, looked at him and said, ‘Understand something, Michael. If I tell you to kiss her ass every morning you had better do it. Or I’ll get Frank Miller or Rene Callard to replace you.’

  Another silence, then Michael nodded and said, ‘Can we make it her hand instead of her ass?’

  ‘I’ll think about it.’

  Chapter 8

  The shark’s fin soup was the clear indicator. It is a dish which must be included in every Chinese banquet and its quality is the benchmark for the whole meal. If the shark’s fin soup was of the top quality, it meant that the following dishes would be of a similar excellence . . . and massively expensive. The very top quality is pure top-grade fin and exorbitant. It is also somewhat slimy and glutinous. Colin Chapman tasted it and looked across the table and bowed his head slightly. Lucy Kwok smiled in acknowledgement and then, while he ate, she talked.

  ‘Since you know so much about the Chinese and our culture, you can understand us better than most gweilos. Perhaps you understand that in our nature, when something bad is done to us we desire not so much justice but vengeance. You also know that we are generally very patient people . . . but I am not patient. I want vengeance against the people who murdered my family. Not only the ones who physically hanged them, but the ones who ordered it.’

  A waiter came close to the table, ready to ladle out another serving of shark’s fin soup.

  Colin Chapman said to him in Cantonese, it was delicious and I could eat it until the sun comes up, but I know there’s much more to follow.’

  The waiter’s eyes widened and he slid a glance at Lucy.

  She smiled and said in the same language, ‘In a desert, one can find a diamond.’ She looked again at Chapman and, as the waiter went away, her face turned serious and she hammered gently on the table with her small fist, to emphasise her words. ‘I want vengeance on the man who ordered it.’

  Equally emphatically, Chapman answered, ‘The one who ordered it was Mo Lau Wong. Of course, you know who he is.’

  ‘Yes, I know who the bastard is. He is head of the 14K. Everyone knows who he is, but it seems the wonderful Hong Kong police force can do nothing about it. I tell you that if this was China, the authorities would have shot him years ago.’

  The waiter brought the next dish, which was whole ouma abalone in oyster sauce. After he had served it and left, Chapman said, ‘Lucy, you have a false impression of what goes on in China these days. The authorities there arrest and execute low-level drug dealers, pimps and small-time thieves or embezzlers. They don’t shoot people like Tommy Mo Lau Wong.’

  She was looking at him sceptically.

  He shrugged and continued, ‘Tommy Mo visits China frequently. He has business interests all over the country, but particularly in Canton and in all the new economic zones. He has a very ornate villa, five miles outside the city on the Pearl River.’

  ‘Do the communist authorities know about this?’

  He gave a short, cynical laugh. ‘Of course they know. We’ve given them all the necessary information. They choose to turn a blind eye and to give him protection. They do this for many reasons, not least for the palm money he hands out . . . The new economic order has brought vast corruption to China. It’s not like twenty years ago. The other reason they protect him is because of the situation in Hong Kong itself. Should there be difficulties between the Chinese and British governments in the final run-up to the hand over of Hong Kong in 1997, then the Chinese government would use Tommy Mo and his twenty thousand-odd followers in the colony as a threat against the British.’ He shrugged again, ‘We cannot arrest him here even though we have strong Triad laws, simply because we have no hard evidence.’ He laughed again, cynically. ‘We cannot even get him on tax evasion charges. Ostensibly, he lives a very simple life in a fifth floor apartment in Happy Valley. He claims a modest income from a small rice distribution company. He is never, ever present at the scene of a crime. But the reality is very different. Apart from the villa in China, there is another one in Sai Kung, in the New Territories, It’s owned by a company in Taiwan, which we suspect is a front for the 14K. That villa is a fortress, with a high stone wall all around the gardens and the most sophisticated security system outside of Fort Knox. We suspect that it’s where the Triad initiation ceremonies take place. Tommy Mo spends a lot of time there, but still maintains his address at the little shabby apartment in Happy Valley. Of course, he employs the best lawyers and accountants, or at least the Taiwanese front company does. We can’t touch him.’

  They had finished the ouma abalone. The waiter was not close to the table because when they had sat down, Lucy had told him only to approach when she beckoned. She did so now, and he brought the next dish. It was roast lung kong chicken.

  Chapman tasted it and said to her, ‘I have truly never eaten such a meal.’

  She nodded absently. Her mind was elsewhere. She had hardly touched the delicious food. She looked up at the Englishman again and asked, ‘Can you not turn one of his followers, just like the Italian Anti-Mafia police turn some big fish?’

  ‘We’ve been trying for years. We’ve offered them new identities in foreign countries as far away as Australia or South America. I can tell you, unofficially, that I have the authority to offer huge sums of money as a reward for information. Lucy, the Triads may seem similar to the Mafia on the surface but, believe me, they are very different and infinitely more dangerous.’

  She had ordered a bottle of Le Montrachet. She reached for the bottle and refilled their glasses. The waiter, standing just out of earshot, adopted a pained expression but did not move.

  She took a sip of her wine and said, ‘Of course, I know about the Triads as every Chinese does, but I bow to your superior knowledge. At that long meeting in your office. I meant to question you then, but you were the one asking all the questions about me and my family. I would be grateful if you would educate me a little now, about the Tria
ds.’

  ‘I’ll be pleased to sing for such a supper . . . Let’s start at the very beginning.’

  He talked uninterrupted for the next half hour, first explaining that the Triads had their origins during the fifth century AD, in what was then called the White Lotus Society, which had very strong Buddhist overtones. But it was more than a thousand years later that the numerous Triad Societies blossomed throughout China. They wanted to throw out the hated Manchu Ch’ing Dynasty and restore the Ming Dynasty. Their aims were both patriotic and laudable and they received grass-roots support. This anti-foreign patriotic posture was retained until 1912, when Dr Sun Yat-sen formed the first Chinese Republic. Up to that time, the vast majority of the population had viewed the Triads with respect and vied to become members. Then the whole thing changed. Once their original purpose had been accomplished, the Triads turned to crime, much like the Mafia in Sicily, but on a vaster scale. Their elaborate initiation ceremonies still retained a quasi-religious atmosphere, and even Taoism crept in. But the ceremonies’ only purpose was to terrify initiates into believing that the Society was all-powerful and that any deviations or disclosures would be fatal, both to mind and body. Over the next fifty years, the large Societies fragmented. Some of the fragments withered away, while others flourished. The whole of the colony of Hong Kong split into territories, and the different Triad societies fought for every inch of those territories. They also branched out into South-East Asia, where there was a sizeable Chinese population, and so came to control crime in Singapore, Malaysia, Indonesia and the Philippines. During the last few generations, they also spread their tentacles to Canada, America, Europe and Australia. By 1990, they had become the most powerful global criminal organisation. They have elaborate hand signals and coded speech signals, not just to indicate their membership of a Triad Society, but also their position in the hierarchy. They also entered big business: property, construction and finance. They are known to control several Public Companies. They are adept at bribing public officials, including the police and judiciary. The extent of their hold on their membership is so great that a society member will willingly accept a suicide mission or kill himself before giving away information. It is estimated that by the mid-twentieth century, one in six of the Hong Kong Chinese population was affiliated to a Triad Society. The Societies have no other purpose except the pursuit of crime and power.

  Her face was tinged with anger and sadness.

  ‘So, it seems that the man who ordered the murder of my family is unlikely to be brought to justice.’

  He peeled an orange and said, ‘If I believed there was no chance at all, then I would resign. I have to keep a belief in the work I do. We have had successes, and if my department were not efficient the Triads would be totally out of control and there would be no law . . . But, Lucy, I have to be honest. The chances of us arresting Tommy Mo for the murder of your family are slight. The chances would be better if we could establish a direct contact between your late father and Tommy Mo himself. I say that because the nature of the murders was a direct warning to others. It’s why I’ve had protection around you twenty-four hours a day, and why I urge you to emigrate to a country which does not have a large Chinese community.’ He noted the surprise in her eyes. ‘Yes, Lucy, you would not have noticed the protection. My men are skilled and loyal . . . as to the possibility of emigration, I want you to think about it carefully.’

  ‘Never!’ she said vehemently. ‘It would be running away.’

  ‘You have to understand,’ he answered, I can only protect you for a limited time because I have limited resources, I would say only for another month. I’m glad you decided to stay on at the house instead of moving to an apartment, because it’s difficult to approach that house without being seen.’

  She twirled the last of the wine in her glass, looking at it thoughtfully, and said, ‘Do you have any idea of the motive? After all, my father was not in business. What would the 14K have against a research doctor?’

  ‘I have no idea, but you must try to think carefully about all the conversations that you had with your father, mother or brother over the past months. There must be a clue somewhere.’

  She nodded and said, ‘I will do everything I can.’ A smile touched her lips. ‘It will mean I will have to see quite a lot of you,’

  He also smiled slightly.

  ‘I’m afraid so. I regret imposing that burden.’

  Chapter 9

  Ruby wheeled Gloria down the ramp at the side entrance of the Amigo Hotel. A stretch limousine was waiting. It was specially adapted for wheelchairs. The chauffeur lowered the ramp, and two minutes later, Gloria was in the back. She found Creasy sitting in the armchair-like seat next to her. Ruby climbed into the front seat, next to the driver, and they moved off through the busy city.

  Creasy turned and gave Gloria a careful appraisal and then nodded in approval. She was dressed in a full-length emerald silk gown with a black shawl draped about her shoulders. She had applied subtle make-up which softened the lines of bitterness on her face. She did not look like the woman of confrontation with whom Creasy had flown across the Atlantic. She soon dispelled the illusion.

  ‘Do you mind telling me why you left a message with Ruby that I should dress up tonight? Who are you to tell me what to wear for a dinner in some cheap bistro?’

  Creasy was looking at the bright lights of the city. A light rain had begun to fall.

  He turned back to her and said, ‘Mrs Manners, I’m not only telling you what to wear but I’m also going to tell you how to behave tonight.’

  She snorted in derision. ‘I need a hired hand to teach me how to behave?’

  ‘Listen to me, lady! I regret that you lost the husband you loved. I regret that you lost your only child. I regret that you’re doomed to live in that wheelchair for the rest of your years. You can view me as a hired hand — which, technically, I am — but, whether you like it or not, as from the moment we lifted off from Denver Airport, I’m running this operation.’ She started to say something and he held up a hand. ‘Mrs Manners, unless you listen to what I have to say, and unless you do what I ask of you, I’m going to have this car turned around and take you back to your hotel. And you can kiss your hired hand’s ass goodbye.’

  They drove in silence for a couple of minutes, and then she said, ‘It will be a waste of money.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Because I chartered that goddamn Gulfstream jet for another two weeks. Do you know how much those things cost?’

  ‘I can guess.’

  ‘OK. So I listen to what you want me to do, but I make no promises.’

  ‘You make one promise first. You don’t interrupt me with a single word until I’ve finished talking.’

  After a pause, she nodded. He turned in his seat to look at her.

  ‘We are not going to have dinner in a cheap bistro. We are going to have dinner at the invitation of two good friends of mine. It happens that they both work in their bistro and so that’s where they have to entertain us. It also happens that I need his advice. I need that advice because it could help me find out who killed your daughter. So this dinner is what we call ‘operational’, and on an operation, everybody involved has to be coordinated. That includes you. Now, having talked to you for some hours, I realise you have the impression that you can wave your magic wand and everybody will fall into line and lots of miracles will happen. But sometimes your mega-bucks and your wand won’t work. This dinner tonight is one such occasion. Maxie MacDonald doesn’t believe in magic wands. If he’s going to help us, he has to like you or, at least, respect you. And that goes for his wife Nicole, as well.’

  She opened her mouth to speak but saw the look in his eyes and shut it.

  He went on, ‘There is another aspect. You know that Michael and I are staying at a whorehouse. I told you a little bit about Blondie, the Madame. She’s about seventy years old, Italian by birth and not blonde at all. She’s been a friend of mine since I was in the Foreign Legi
on, twenty-five-odd years ago. I won’t bore you with the reason why she’s such a close friend, but she is. It so happens that Maxie’s wife Nicole used to work for Blondie. I borrowed Nicole to act as a decoy, in Washington back in ‘89. It was part of the operation I had going there with Jim Grainger. In fact, Jim met her there. Maxie was also on that operation and worked with Nicole. It was a dangerous time and, as happens at such times, Nicole and Maxie fell in love. When they returned to Europe, she quit her job with Blondie and he gave up being a mercenary. They bought the bistro and run it with Nicole’s younger sister.’ He paused and glanced at his watch and then his voice quickened slightly. ‘Now this afternoon, I got a hell of a surprise. Blondie announced that she would come with us to dinner. She hardly leaves the Pappagal and, in my memory, never at night. But she’s very fond of Nicole and I guess, in a strange way, she’s paying Nicole an honour. Because of that, Blondie has dressed up as though she’s going to a very important occasion, even though it’s taking place in a modest bistro. That’s why I left a message with Ruby asking you to dress up. The point I am making is that tonight you’re having dinner with the Madame of a whorehouse. If you offend her, you will offend Nicole, and if you offend Nicole you offend Maxie. Of course, he will still answer my questions and give me advice, but there is something else I want from him.’

  She couldn’t help herself. The question came out, ‘What?’

  Again, he held up his hand.

  ‘That will have to wait until later, after I have judged his mood and Nicole’s, but Blondie could be a help.’

  The limousine turned into a side street and pulled up in front of a building with a small neon sign, reading ‘Maxie’s’.

  Creasy said, ‘So, Mrs Manners, it’s important that tonight you control your natural impulse for abrasiveness.’ He pointed at the bistro. ‘You can’t wave your magic wand to get those people to do what I want.’