The Red Pole of Macau

( 9 )

Uncle didn’t answer his apartment phone, and his long-time housekeeper, Lourdes, said she didn’t know where he was. Ava called his cell and it went to voicemail. “I need to talk. It’s urgent,” she said, and then called Sonny.

“I need Uncle,” she said when he picked up.

“He’s in a meeting.”

“Where are you?”

“Hong Kong side. He’s at the Korean barbecue restaurant just up the street from your hotel.”

“Please ask him not to leave until I get there.”

She looked at her brother and Amanda. He was spent, exhausted. “You need to sleep. Take some pills if you have to, but get some sleep.”

Amanda seemed better; the tears had dried up and she had a look of determination in her eyes. Ava couldn’t help noticing how tiny she was, maybe pushing five feet without her stilettos, and she couldn’t have weighed a hundred pounds. Without any makeup she looked even more like a teenager. Still, there was something to her, a strength. “Look after him. I’ll call when I know something,” Ava said.

“Don’t worry,” Amanda said.

Ava walked to the restaurant, her sense of urgency balanced by the need for time to think. The first thing she had to do was get over her anger at the stupidity of the two men she’d actually considered going into business with. How could they have imagined, for even a second, that Lok was being sincere? How could they think that in the few hours between the rancour of the lunch and early evening his attitude could be so completely transformed? How could they believe that Wu would so quickly forgive his broken arm?

Part of it is my fault, she thought. If she had called Michael after her meeting with Uncle and relayed the results of his conversation with Lok, he would have known for certain that there was no chance of reconciliation. She had played things too close to her chest, as was her habit, controlling the flow of information, playing God in her own little way. Shit, she thought. Now what?

There was no car outside the Korean barbecue place, just Sonny leaning against the wall, his eyes flitting in all directions, his vigilance a habit he couldn’t shake despite the fact that it was no longer so necessary. He saw Ava the moment she came into view, then stood straight and turned to face her. When she first met him, he had worn nothing but jeans and tight T-shirts that showed off a rock-hard body decorated with tattoos. The years with Uncle had mellowed him.

“Uncle says you should go right in,” he said.

He was sitting at a table in the back with two men she recognized from previous lunches. They were old comrades, now retired, and they met regularly to discuss the state of the world. None of the men stood as she approached, instead offering small smiles and nodding heads. “Lang lei,” one of them said.

Ava sat and Uncle poured her a cup of jasmine tea. There was no need for introductions. She sat quietly at the table as the men continued their conversation. They had long since finished eating, the last empty platters still on the table, the barbecue grill coated with remnants of meat and sauce. Finally one of them called for the bill, only to be told by Uncle that it was his turn to pay. Then everyone stood and there was a round of handshakes. The men made arrangements to meet the next week at a Shandong restaurant on the Kowloon side.

Uncle didn’t sit down until his friends had left the restaurant. Then he looked at Ava and said, “What has happened?”

She calmly repeated Michael’s story. When she was done, he shook his head in resignation. “How stupid can they be?”

“They run noodle shops and 7-Elevens,” she said.

“Over lunch I told Uncle Fong that Lok was causing a friend of mine some trouble. He knows Lok from before; he says he can be crazy. It was useful when he was a 49er, a fighter. He is smart, of course, and moved up in his society, but the craziness made him unfit to be anything but a Red Pole. Uncle Fong said a man like Lok should never have the autonomy he has.”

Ava had listened more than once to the old men complaining about the deterioration within the Three Harmonies Society — the unity between Heaven, Earth, and Man — and how the thirty-six traditional oaths had no meaning anymore. When the triads fought these days, it was normally against each other. They were more of a threat to themselves than the police. Ava didn’t feel like listening to another monologue on the good old days, even from Uncle. “What can I do?” she asked.

He poured more tea. “Nothing,” he said.

“That’s not possible.”

“It is practical, and you are a practical girl.”

“If we pay a ransom?”

“They will kill him, if he is not dead already.”

“You seem so sure.”

“Your brother’s partner will die whether you pay the ransom or not. That is how these people operate. You asked for my advice, there it is.”

“How about the threats to my brother?”

“They want to scare him into paying, probably nothing more than that.”

“They told Michael not to go to the police, that they would know if he did. How much truth is there to that?”

“Lok has been in Macau a long time, and as far as I know he has never spent an hour in jail, never had a single charge laid against him. This is a man who ran moneylenders, whorehouses, did some drug dealing, and when he got bored he would hire out himself and his men for contract killing — all rather visible and sometimes violent activities. What does that tell you about his relationship with the Macau police?”

“I thought there had been a crackdown there, that the police had cleaned things up.”

“They negotiated a truce, that is all. The government was worried about the bad publicity the territory was getting from crimes no one could ignore, crimes that made the front pages of all the newspapers — like the lawyer getting gunned down at the front door of the Grand Hyatt, the drive-by shootings, the gangs shooting at each other in broad daylight in the old town and killing two children who were walking home from school. So they sat down with the gangs and worked out a treaty to accommodate the new, Vegas-style Macau. The moneylenders disappeared from the casinos, the guns were put away, and everything else was prettied up, but it kept on going. And the gangs of course found new ways to generate income, such as Lok’s revolving land deals, and you know that a percentage of every dollar finds its way to some police retirement fund.”

“You make them sound like business partners.”

“They are.”

“But this is a kidnapping, Uncle, not some victimless crime.”

“How many kidnappings are there in Macau every year? Ten, twenty, thirty, I do not know. But I do know that it has been the time-honoured way to collect debts in Macau. In the old days the moneylenders would book a client into a hotel room with a guard and leave him there until his family squared the account, and I still hear about business squabbles getting resolved that way. The police would say thank you for informing them about the kidnapping, file a report somewhere, and then call Lok to tell him and have a laugh about the idiot who did not understand how Macau works.”

Ava felt her face flush. Uncle wasn’t often so categorical, and his use of the word idiot stung. “So I do nothing,” she said quietly.

“Nothing,” he said.

She finally sipped some tea. It had gone cold. She tipped it into one of the empty bowls and held out her cup for Uncle to pour some warm tea.

“They’re holding him somewhere in Macau, of that I’m sure. Could you find out for me what properties Lok has, where he lives?”

Uncle sighed. “I could, but I do not want to.”

“If you don’t, I’ll find someone who will.”

“Ava, please —”

“No, Uncle, I have to do at least that much. I have to find out what I can. It may come to nothing — just as you wish — or it may not.”

He seemed to sink into his chair, becoming as small as a child. Ava could see his mind turning things over and knew that he couldn’t deny her.

“There are two things you need to do right away,” he finally said. “You need to confirm that the partner is still alive. Have your brother call them and tell them he needs proof. If they will not do that, he is already dead. If he is alive, you need to buy more time. Your brother should tell them that he is willing to pay the ransom but he needs time to get the money together. Ask for a week. If they will not budge even a little, then it means they probably have no interest in the money anyway.”

“I can’t see them accepting a week.”

“Your brother has to negotiate. Anything more than the two days he has been given is a plus. And if this were a normal kidnapping and ransom, I would tell him to negotiate the money as well. In this case I would not do that. It would be a waste of time and just aggravate them.”

“Okay, we’ll do that as soon as I leave here.”

“And I will make some calls,” he said. “I do not want to, but I will.”

“Thank you.”

They walked from the restaurant together, his arm through hers. He was doing that more often these days, and she wasn’t sure why.

“Where does your brother live?”

“Mid-levels,” she said, pointing up towards the Peak.

“Shall we give you a ride?”

“No, I’d rather walk. The day is so beautiful, and I need to organize my thoughts.”