Joe fagan 04 the jade mo.., p.4
Joe Fagan 04 The Jade Mountain Queen, page 4
part #4 of Joe Fagan Series
Constable Chang stood in Detective Superintendent Feng’s office. The file in his sticky hand and a sweat on his brow.
“So, do you have it?”
“Sir, yes, I have it here. I have been checking the details. The woman, her name was Pham Mae Baptiste, she was — ”
“I know the details,” Feng snapped. “I need to know if anyone has requested that file recently?”
“No sir, I checked. The file was moved during a reorganization but no one has requested it since it was filed away when the case was closed.”
The Superintendent’s eyes seemed to bore right into him. Chang rushed on. “But there was something. I had a call from someone in the IT department. It would seem that as part of new security procedures, all personal alerts on the system are logged to a central file.”
Feng looked at him as if he was speaking Russian.
Chen swallowed and stumbled on, desperate to show he was just the least bit in control of any of this. “Sir, there was a flag on the file, an alert that was triggered when I requested it. And as the last person to access it, they called me.”
“Who was alerted?”
“Detective Inspector Lau, sir. But he didn’t authorize it.”
“Do you know who did?”
“Yes sir, it was the investigating officer.”
Chang fumbled with the file and looked up at the Superintendent. “I checked. He’s retired now.” He moved his finger down the sheet of paper. “Yes, here it is. Chief Inspector Charles Whitaker.”
8
Pandau Island, Philippines.
Fagan dangled the fishing line off the end of the dock. It was past noon, and the sun was heating up in a clear blue sky. He caught the whiff of Charlie’s hand rolled tobacco and looked across at his friend. Charlie reminded him a lot of Luca. Except Luca had been a priest, and Charlie had been a police officer in the Royal Hong Kong Police Force, as it was then, and before that, a pilot in the Royal Air Force.
“It’s days like today I wish that life could be like this all the time.” Charlie’s eyes were closed, soaking up the sunshine, a sublime smile on his face.
“Tell me about it,” Fagan said. “But something is usually whispering in my ear that it’s going to come to an end. And it always does.”
“Don’t spoil it.”
Charlie opened his eyes and handed him a bottle of San Miguel from the cooler beside him. Fagan twisted off the top and took a long, cool drink.
“Walter keeps telling me to live day each as if it were my last.”
“Interesting character, Walter.”
“And some.”
“Is he always smiling?”
“Most of the time. Someone once told me, you’re a lucky man if you can say you have one true friend. I guess I’m lucky. Walter and I have been through a lot together.”
“You said you were in the seminary together.”
“Sometimes I wonder if that was really me.”
“Walter is not the only interesting character.”
“I talk too much when I drink.”
“Well, you’re right. You are a lucky man if you have a true friend. I’ve got my kids, and they’re my friends too, so you could say I’m doubly lucky.”
Charlie tugged at his line and peered into the clear water. “Looks like we’re not getting any interest this morning.”
“I thought we were just dangling bits of string in the ocean and drinking beer.”
“There are worse ways to spend a morning.” Charlie gazed out across the Sulu Sea to where the haze obscured the far horizon. “My grandfather would take me fishing when I was a boy. He lived up in the Scottish highlands. I would visit him during the school holidays and we would go fly-fishing for trout, and in season, for salmon. We would be strapped up in rubber waders and chest deep in ice cold water. At least I was chest deep. My grandfather was six foot six and built like your proverbial brick shit house.” Charlie patted his generous gut. “Maybe I’ve grown more like the old bugger over the years.” He seemed to smile at an old memory. “He was a craggy old Scot, but he loved me. He lived alone in the highlands, said he would never leave after my grandmother died.”
“Would that be Lord Strathgowan?” Fagan said. “Remember, I’m not the only one who talks when they drink too much. Only in your case, it takes a hell of a lot more alcohol. You rambled on the night we demolished that bottle of twenty-year-old Laphroaig.”
Charlie shook his head, a faraway look in his eye. “Fine old Scotch that, fine old man. I only ever called him Grandpa. He lived in a ramshackle castle overrun by the forest surrounding it. One of a dying breed, heritage rich, cash poor. He could barely afford to keep the place warm in the winter, and winters are awfully long in the Scottish Highlands. He got around in a battered old Land Rover that was probably as old as him. He kept it going himself, but then Grandpa could turn his hands to anything. If my father hadn’t sent him money, he would have gone under. Even though my mother, my grandfather’s daughter, had died, my father still felt the obligation to him, to me.”
“Is he still alive, your grandfather?”
“Unfortunately not, but he did outlive my father by a couple of years. I wanted him to come and live out here, but there was no way of bringing him out of Drumraer.” Charlie took a long swig of his beer. “Except in a box.”
“I suppose that makes you. . .”
Charlie gave a whimsical smile. “Lord Strathgowan, 15th earl of Drumraer.”
“Does that mean I’m supposed to bow?”
“No, but you could get us some more cold beer.” Charlie’s smile broke into a grin and shoved the now beer depleted icebox towards him.
The phone in Charlie’s pocket played the opening bars to ‘God Save the Queen’. He pulled it out and looked at the caller ID. “Wei,” he said as he answered it. “Don’t tell me you’re not coming this weekend.” He listened to the caller for a few moments, his face now serious. He turned his head away from Fagan. “Are you sure?” He glanced back at Fagan. “Okay. I’ll be there this evening,” he said and hung up the phone. “The beer will have to wait. I have to go to Hong Kong, business.”
“I thought you said you were in retirement. Isn’t Tommy looking after the business now?”
“Sometimes I have to step in and steady the ship.”
“As long as that’s not an excuse for not letting go.”
“What do you Americans say? Shit happens.” Charlie’s craggy face broke into a smile.
“Will you be gone long?”
“I’ll take the Cessna. I should be back in a couple of days.”
They headed back up the dock. The Cessna was tied up alongside. It was a Grand Caravan EX Amphibian. It had two large floats with retractable wheels that allowed it to land on both land and water. Charlie called across to a young Filipino in his late teens. “William, prep her up for a flight to Hong Kong.”
“Can I come with you, Mister Charlie?” William was excited. Charlie was teaching him the ropes. How to fix the aircraft first, then how to fly it. According to Charlie, he was a bright student.
“Sorry, my boy.” He grabbed his shoulder and gave it a squeeze in a sign of genuine affection. “Next time. And I promise I’ll let you fly it.”
William dashed off happy, to make the preparations. Charlie watched him go. “As I said, I don’t want this to ever end.” He looked across at Fagan. His face was now serious. “Will you keep an eye on things while I’m away?”
“Sure. Is there anything particular you want me to do?”
“Have you got a weapon?”
Fagan eyed his friend. “Am I expecting trouble?”
“It’s always best to be prepared.”
“Well, I did ask Tommy a while back to get me something from Manila.” He smiled at Charlie. “As you say, best to be prepared.”
“What did he get you?”
“SIG Sauer P226.”
“That’s being prepared. What do they say, once a Navy SEAL. . .”
Fagan shot him a mock glare. Charlie flashed a grin in return.
“Do you need anything?”
“I could use some more ammo.”
Charlie’s grin widened. “Not a problem, dear boy. Come up to the house. I can give you whatever you need.”
Fagan watched his friend walk ahead. What was it Charlie had said last night about secrets?
9
Wan Chai, Hong Kong Island.
The seaplane dock was on Tsing Yi, a small island attached to the northern end of Kowloon by a road bridge. Charlie found a taxi out by the dock gate.
“Hong Kong side,” he said to the taxi driver as he climbed into the back of the cab. It was a reference to Hong Kong Island. Most Hong Kong cab drivers spoke no English, but they understood Kowloon Side and Hong Kong Side, the two main areas of Hong Kong. Once you got there, you were down to pointing and gesticulating.
Charlie spoke passable Cantonese, but he saved that until they emerged from the road tunnel on Hong Kong Island, then gave him his destination. The cars were already backing up as they headed through Central.
“Have to go round,” the driver called out in his heavily accented local dialect. “Big problem on Hennessy Road.” The driver jabbed a finger forward through the windscreen. “Heard on radio, outside Police Headquarters, big protest, riot police out there with very big sticks. Some people have very painful heads tonight.” The taxi driver grinned in the rearview mirror and took a right turn, then headed up the hill.
It had been a long time since Charlie had been inside Police Headquarters. He was in no great hurry to go in again. He sat back in his seat and let the taxi driver weave his way through the high rise building on the back route into Wan Chai.
He was trying to ignore the riots. They were not his problem anymore. But he still found it difficult to do that, emotionally. Somehow there would always be a part of him in Hong Kong.
The latest problem was a new government bill that sought to overturn Hong Kong’s ‘one country, two systems’ regime that had been in place since the handover from the British in 1997. The details were complex, but the bill would undermine the autonomy of the Special Administrative Region of Hong Kong and expose its citizens to the legal system of mainland China, including extradition back to the motherland.
The locals had shown their disapproval by rioting in numbers. The confrontations with the Hong Kong Riot Police had proved to be fierce and bloody. The Hong Kong administration had since withdrawn the proposal but the protests had continued, putting the Hong Kong Chief Executive, the head of the local government, under considerable pressure from the power brokers in Beijing.
Charlie still had an emotional connection to the people of Hong Kong, but there was nothing he could do about it. And besides, he had other things closer to home to worry about.
He got the cab to drop him at the end of the road. He paid the driver, plus a generous tip, and climbed out.
“Be careful,” the driver said, through the open window. “A man could have a serious good time down there.” He grinned and drove off.
Charlie walked past the brightly lit bars that lined the street. Girls in very short dresses and little else, hung out of the doorways with wide smiles and giggles, calling to him to come in and sample the delights. Charlie smiled. He was a little old for those kinds of delights.
The little bar he was looking for was tucked away down a side alley, with no bright lights and no girls in the doorway. The lady behind the bar looked older than he did. She greeted him with a bubbly smile.
“Chief Inspector Charlie, so nice to see you again.”
“Missy, I keep telling you, I haven’t been Chief Inspector for more than twenty years.”
“Time goes by so fast.” She shook her head and poured him a Japanese Single Malt whiskey.
There were a few people at the bar and some scattered around the tables. Charlie took his drink and sat in the corner, watching the door. It was another hour and two more Scotches before Detective Inspector Lau Wang Wei appeared. He gave Charlie a tired smile as he spotted him in the corner.
“Sorry I’m late,” he said as he dropped into the chair. “Murder case in Mongkok. Nasty business.”
“Aren’t they all? Makes me remember why I retired.”
“The madness that is going on out there doesn’t help. Did you get caught up in it?”
“I had a savvy taxi driver.” But Charlie was not interested in talking about the riots.
A waitress placed a beer on the table without Lau asking. Charlie waited for him to take a drink.
“You said it was important. You said —”
“I know what I said, Charlie.”
Charlie shrugged. “You didn’t give out too many details on the phone.”
“I think I learned that from you. Given the case, I didn’t think you would want me to. You asked me to put a flag on it over twenty years ago. I had forgotten all about it until I got the notification this morning.”
Charlie reached for his whiskey and emptied the glass. “I was hoping it would remain buried.”
“Well, someone is interested.”
“Do you know who?”
“It was DC Chang, but he is just acting as a gofer. It is Chief Superintendent Feng who is interested.”
“Why is he interested? He never had anything to do with the case.”
“I have been trying to find out, but he has it locked down tight. I spoke to Chang, but he is scared shitless and saying nothing. I can’t blame him. Feng can flush his career down the toilet before it has even begun. But apparently, your flag did not go unnoticed. Feng himself came to see me.”
“I’m surprised he could find his way that far down the building. What did he want?”
“He wanted to know what my interest was in the case.”
“To the point. What did you tell him?”
Lau took a swig of his beer. “What do they always say? When protecting something you want to hide, always stick as close to the truth as possible. I told him I had received the notification, but I had no idea what it was about. I told him it was something probably set up by you before you retired, and you forgot about it.”
“Did you tell him you had contacted me?”
“No, but he will think I did anyway. I am sure he knows you are in town.”
“I suppose I’ll be expecting a visit from him.”
Lau looked at him and smiled. “No doubt.”
Lau finished his beer and left. He declined meeting for dinner, claiming he still had a heap of work to do, but promised to find out what he could, and they arranged to meet for lunch the next day.
Charlie sat there alone, staring into the bottom of his glass. The case represented a dark day in his life, perhaps the darkest. It also represented a major transition in his life. It was the last case he had worked on before his retirement. He hadn’t thought about that day in a long time. He had buried it away, deep in his memory. He would had loved to erase it completely, but it was not something he could ever forget.
Missy came over and asked if he wanted a refill, but he declined and paid up. He had things he needed to do.
The young uniformed policeman was standing at the door as Charlie stepped out into the alley. He looked like he should have been wearing a school uniform. Were policemen getting younger, or was he just getting old? He suspected the latter.
“Chief Inspector Whitaker.” The young policeman gave a nod of deference. “Chief Superintendent Feng would like a word.”
A black Mercedes was parked out on the street. The young policeman stepped up and opened the rear door. Charlie took a look around, hoping perhaps to see Lau lurking in a doorway, but only the girls looked on, curiously. He gave a shrug and climbed in.
He recognized the uniformed man sitting in the back seat. Feng had been one of the breed of enthusiasts looking to step up after the handover, when the old guard stepped aside. He also remembered his policing skills did not particularly match up to his ambitions. It appeared not to have not been a problem.
“Chief Superintendent, you’re looking well.”
“Chief Inspector.” The man’s face remained serious.
“People just call me Charlie these days.”
The Chief Superintendent nodded and forced a smile. “Charlie. I just wanted a quiet word.”
“Is there some reason you seek me out at one of my favorite watering holes for a cozy chat, more than twenty years after I retired? We’ve hardly stayed in touch over the years.”
“Let’s just say I have an interest in something that concerns you. I am informed that you flagged a file on one of your old cases. I realize that was over twenty years ago, but it appears to have been triggered when we were doing some file maintenance.” Feng gave a tight smile.
The words lying bastard sprung into Charlie’s mind.
“Part of our process to put all case files online,” Feng continued. “I was wondering what interest you had in it. Why you flagged it.”
“What case would that be?” Charlie said, using his best poker face.
Feng smiled. “I think you know that. It was quite a sensitive case at the time.”
“Maybe that’s why I flagged it. I still don’t know what case you’re referring to, but whatever, that was a long time ago. Maybe I forgot to clear it down when I left the force.”
“Yes, that is what DI Lau said when I asked him about it. He received the notification. But I have to ask myself, is it a coincidence that you arrive in Hong Kong, the day after the trigger, and meet up with Detective Inspector Lau.”
Feng’s emotionless eyes seemed to bore into him.
“I’m here on business, and DI Lau is an old friend. I can assure you I have no interest in any of my past cases. I have a new life now, Chief Inspector Charlie Whitaker is well and truly retired.”
“If I were you, I would keep it that way.”
“As I said, I’m here on business, and I really must go.”
Charlie looked across at Feng. He still couldn’t interrogate worth a damn. He reached for the door handle, expecting Feng to stop him. But Feng just watched him without saying anything more. Charlie opened the door and climbed out.
