Hungry Ghost (45 page)

They all nodded.

‘So be it,’ said Ng Wai-sun. ‘Lin Wing-wah, you must have our Red Poles prepared. I think it best that we do not involve the other triads in the actual ransom, I think we must keep that firmly under our control. It would be best if we have our men spread around Hong Kong so that we are sure to have some men close to where the handover is due to take place. As soon as we know when and where you must be able to contact our men and get them in position. This time there must be no mistake.’

There was no malice in his face but Lin flinched at the subtle reprimand and he was overwhelmed with shame at having failed Simon Ng. This time there would be no mistake, he swore to himself. He would have the gweilo, or die in the attempt.

‘I have a suggestion,’ said Dugan, speaking for the first time. Ng Wai-sun raised his eyebrows in surprise, but then smiled and asked him to speak.

‘I think you should have a fallback position,’ he said. Though they had invited him to sit in on their war council, he was still reluctant to say ‘we’ while in their company.

‘What do you have in mind?’ said the Dragon Head.

‘Bearing in mind what happened last time, I think you should bug the ransom. Place a transmitter, a homing device of some sort, in the case with the gold and the diamonds. Then if he does get away you still have a chance of following him.’

‘But what if he finds it?’ asked Thomas Ng.

‘We can stitch it into the bottom of the case. The CCB technical department has some ultra-thin models that they’ve been testing. They use small batteries that are only good for twelve hours or so but they can be detected up to a distance of two miles. You pick up the signal with a radio directional finder, a small hand-held job. It would mean that you could have men in cars close to the handover point and they could follow him at a distance.’

‘Could you get us the equipment?’ asked the Dragon Head.

‘I am sure of it,’ said Dugan.

Howells woke up slowly, drifting up through layers of sleep, until he became aware of his arm being kissed, just above the elbow, slowly and sensually, a tongue licking the flesh in small circles, warm and wet. He became aware then of Amy’s hair lying across his upper arm, shielding her face as she caressed him with her mouth like a vampire preparing to feed. He became fully awake then and felt the warmth of her lithe body, her legs entwined with his, her shoulder against his hip, her lips on his skin.

‘Good morning,’ he said sleepily. ‘What time is it?’

She looked up and smiled at him, and this time she didn’t put her hand up to cover her teeth.

‘It’s eleven o’clock,’ she said.

‘That was the sexiest alarm call I’ve ever had,’ he said.

‘I don’t understand.’

‘Kissing me like that. It was a lovely way to wake up.’ He was lying on his left side, his left arm up on the pillow, his right lying across his chest. The sling lay on the floor, along with the rest of his clothes that Amy had so carefully taken off him hours before. Her clothes were on top of his, because she’d stripped him naked and kissed him all over his body before undressing and slipping on top of him, careful to keep her weight away from the upper half of his body, so that she wouldn’t hurt him. She was a gentle and considerate lover, matching her pace with his, taking him first slowly, then moving faster and harder, timing it so that she came a second or two before him and then slipping off him and lying next to him, exhausted but happy. Happier than she’d been in a long time. Now she was his, body and soul.

‘Do you want coffee?’ she asked.

‘Please,’ he said.

She slid out of bed and put on his shirt before going to the kitchen. Howells sat up and gently rotated his arm, the injured one. It hurt, it hurt like hell, but it was healing, and so long as he didn’t put too much strain on it he reckoned he could do without the sling. The painkillers were still in the plastic bottle, untouched.

Amy came back into the bedroom and handed him a mug of coffee. She rubbed her hand through his thick hair as he drank, enjoying the feel of it as it ran through her fingers.

‘Do you think I’d look Chinese if I had black hair?’ he said.

She laughed. ‘Maybe,’ she said. ‘You want to be Chinese?’

‘No. I want to look Chinese. And you can help. I need something to dye my hair black. Can you get some?’

She nodded eagerly. ‘I go now. I will buy some food for breakfast as well.’ She changed into a clean dress, carrying it from the wardrobe to her lounge and making sure that he couldn’t see her, suddenly shy and not knowing why. Then she rushed back to kiss him before going out to shop. Howells watched her go, with a smile.

Dugan got out of the lift at the 26th floor, C Division’s territory. He walked along the corridor and passed a stuffed camel, its haughty head almost scraping the ceiling. The camel was one of C Division’s little mysteries; nobody knew what it was doing in the corridor, nor how it had got there in the first place. To Dugan’s knowledge it had been there for at least four years, possibly longer. He’d asked one of the C inspectors once but he’d just shaken his head mysteriously and tapped the side of his nose. Dugan was damned if he’d give them the satisfaction of asking again.

He found Dave Rogers bent over the innards of some electrical equipment that looked as if it had dropped from a great height and bounced badly.

‘Whotchya, Dugan,’ he said. They were good friends, drinking partners and both were on the police rugby team.

‘Hiya, Dave. Can you do me a favour?’

‘Sure.’ Rogers was like that, helpful and trusting to a fault. You wanted something, he’d give it you; you needed help, you got it – no questions, no comebacks. He was a lousy copper, but he had a degree in electronics from some Scottish university and after a few years working out of a poxy station in Sha Tin they’d realized that he’d be of more use on the technical side than he was chasing villains.

‘You remember those bugs you were telling me about, the slimline model? Can I borrow one for a while?’

‘Yeah, little beauties. Expensive little beauties. You won’t lose it, will you?’ he said.

‘Listen to yourself, you daft bastard. How the fuck am I going to lose a homing device?’

Rogers laughed and opened a drawer under his workbench. ‘I suppose you’re right,’ he said. He took out a small stainless steel cylinder about the size of a lipstick, but slightly thinner. Rogers held it in his palm, turning it from side to side.

‘See the black button? Press that and you activate it. Push the one next to it to turn it off.’

‘You said the battery lasts for twelve hours?’

‘About that.’

‘And how do I keep track of it?’

Rogers took out another piece of equipment, this one about the size of a small voltmeter, black plastic with a clear plastic dial at one end. He switched it on, and then pressed the black button on the transmitter. He showed Dugan how the needle on the dial followed the transmitter as he moved it.

‘Simple,’ said Dugan.

‘A child could use it,’ agreed Rogers. ‘I don’t want to pry, Pat, but when are you going to give it me back?’

‘Tomorrow. Either that or your money back.’

‘You any idea how much that baby costs?’ Dugan shook his head. ‘About as much as you earn in three months.’

‘Fuck me, Dave.’

‘If you lose it, I might well do,’ warned Rogers, only half joking.

Dugan had taken pains to make sure that no one saw him enter CCB headquarters, and he was equally careful when he left. A Mercedes was waiting for him around the corner.

Howells waited until he was sure Amy had left the building before making the call. The phone was answered by an old Chinese man and he asked to speak to Thomas Ng. When he came to the phone Howells asked him if he had the diamonds and the gold ready.

‘It is here,’ said Ng.

‘You are to take the ransom to the same place as last time, to the pier at Hebe Haven. At four o’clock this afternoon. I want there to be just one man there, do you understand?’

‘Yes,’ said Ng. ‘But you’ll forgive me if I don’t appear in person. After what you did to my brother, I’m sure you’ll understand my reluctance.’

Howells snorted. ‘I don’t care who you have there. My only concern is the money. And I would have thought that you would have been more concerned about your niece than your own skin.’

‘Think whatever you like, someone else will be there with the diamonds.’

‘And the gold.’

‘And the gold,’ repeated Ng.

‘Whoever is there must be alone and unarmed,’ said Howells. ‘I want him to be wearing nothing but a pair of shorts. And the tighter the shorts, the happier I’ll be. I don’t want there to be any place where he can conceal a gun, do you understand?’

‘Yes,’ said Ng, feeling the anger grow inside. He wasn’t used to being spoken to as a child. He was a giver of orders, not a taker.

‘I will send someone to collect the ransom, a girl. She knows nothing about your niece or where she is. If you make any attempt to prevent her leaving with the diamonds your niece will die. If you attempt to follow her your niece will die. Only after you allow her to leave Hebe Haven safely will I call you and tell you where Sophie is. Do you understand?’

‘I understand,’ said Ng.

‘If anything goes wrong, anything at all, I will kill your niece and you will never hear from me again.’

The arrogance of the gweilo finally got to Ng, and he snapped. ‘And where do you think you can hide, Howells? Where do you think you can fucking well go where we can’t get to you? And when we get you the pain we’ll inflict on you will be nothing to what you’re feeling just now.’

If Howells was surprised that Ng knew his name he gave no sign of it, other than a slight pause before he spoke.

‘Just have the diamonds there,’ he said coldly and hung up.

Ng could feel his cheeks reddening as he put the phone down, a sick feeling in his stomach. He saw Cheng looking at him and he averted his eyes from the old man’s withering stare. Losing his temper had been a mistake. Telling the gweilo how much they knew had been a mistake. Damn the gweilo, damn him for ever.

Dugan arrived back at Golden Dragon Lodge in the Mercedes and walked up the path to the house. Thomas Ng was there to meet him.

‘You have it?’ he asked. Dugan showed him the homing device and the directional finder. ‘It is so small, are you sure it will work?’ Ng asked. Dugan gave him a quick demonstration.

‘Has he called?’ asked Dugan.

Ng nodded. ‘He wants the money at Hebe Haven. The pier again.’

‘That doesn’t sound good, does it? One thing that diamonds and gold have in common – they’re both unharmed by salt water. Makes you think, doesn’t it?’

‘It gets worse,’ said Ng. ‘He wants you to wear nothing but shorts. He said that was because he wanted to make sure you weren’t armed, but . . .’ He left the rest unsaid. Dugan knew what he meant – everything pointed to Howells coming out of the sea. And all the indications were that the ransom, if not Dugan himself, would be taken back into the water.

‘So what are you doing about it?’ Dugan asked Ng.

‘We’ll be better prepared this time. I’ve already arranged for our men to sail a dozen or so boats into Hebe Haven, and we’ll have the whole bay sealed off. We’ve also drafted in four of our members who have scuba-diving experience. They’re already on their way; we’ll put them on a boat and drop them off a half mile or so from the pier with spare tanks. They’re going to sit on the sea bottom until we know where the gweilo is.’

Ng Wai-sun came out of the house behind his son. He greeted Dugan but made no move to shake hands.

‘Do not let the obvious blind you to the unexpected, my son,’ he said quietly. ‘If all the signs are that the gweilo will come from the water, it could be that he plans to come from the road.’

‘Yes, Father, we will have our men staking out the pier too. And Patrick has brought his transmitter. I’ll have it stitched into the bag.’ He took it inside, leaving his father alone with Dugan.

‘Thank you for helping us,’ said the old man in halting English. ‘It cannot be easy for you.’

‘I love my sister, and Sophie,’ said Dugan, also using English, but speaking very slowly so that Ng Wai-sun could follow him. ‘I also liked your son. He was a good husband and father.’

The old man smiled and looked at him with watery eyes. ‘Be careful today,’ he said.

Chief Inspector Leigh put down the file he had been holding and looked at the photograph of his wife.

‘Well now, Glynnis, what are we to make of this?’ he said softly. It had long been the Special Branch officer’s habit to talk to his wife’s picture; it helped him get his thoughts in order, but he was careful to do it only when he was alone in his office. His wife smiled at him as she had done for the past twenty years, when the photograph had been taken, her head tilted to the left, her eyes looking right through him.

The blue file on his desk contained the details of a messy double killing in the Victoria Hotel. Not that murders fell automatically within his brief, but the two barely cold corpses discovered in adjoining rooms were both CIA agents, Jack Edmunds and Rick Feinberg, and dead CIA agents most definitely were of interest. Both had been killed with a knife, both had been attacked from the back by a left-handed man. For more than that he’d have to wait for the coroner’s report, and with the way the brain drain was affecting the coroner’s office that could take two days.

Robbery appeared not to have been the motive; both men still had their wallets and their passports, and it had none of the hallmarks of a triad execution, just one slash across the throat and not the wicked multiple hackings that the local thugs preferred. There was one item in the report, however, that made the chief inspector sit up and take notice. At about the time of the killings, give or take half an hour, two phone calls had been made from one of the rooms, one to the home of the recently deceased Simon Ng, and one, a few minutes later, to the home of that pillar of the community Ng Wai-sun.