Skeleton Women (15 page)
As the Chinese say, “It takes one hero to recognize another.” After I finished reading Shadow’s diary, I really thought we were evenly matched. Time would tell which of us would come out ahead in our great game of magic, schemes, and manipulation.
Our situation was like that of Zhou Yu and Zhuge Liang, two of the greatest generals in Chinese history. Zhou Yu once lamented “Why was I born at the same time with Zhuge Liang?” Zhou believed that if it were not for Zhuge Liang, he would be able to conquer all under heaven.
Now I asked myself a similar question: Why had fate thrust Shadow and me onto the same path? I thought Big Brother Wang asked himself the same question about his situation with Lung.
But there was no time to lose. As the proverb states, “Kill your enemy before he has time to even make a fist.”
The next morning, I picked up the
Leisure News
and opened it to Rainbow Chang’s column. I smiled; as I’d wished, she did write about our small party. Of course she didn’t know about the little incident after; otherwise I was sure she’d have made that her headline.
Leisure News
and opened it to Rainbow Chang’s column. I smiled; as I’d wished, she did write about our small party. Of course she didn’t know about the little incident after; otherwise I was sure she’d have made that her headline.
A Stunning Private Show
I must have done something good recently that I had the lucky karma to be invited by our Heavenly Songbird, Miss Camilla, to be her guest.
Her home is beautiful, the food exquisite, and the wine divine. But the most amazing thing was the private show she put on for me and her other guest, the magician Shadow.
Camilla threw knives with deadly accuracy while contorting her supple body. I kept rubbing my eyes; was this beautiful woman in front of me real or just a figment of my imagination? Shadow must have been asking herself, “I am a magician; how come I’ve never seen anything like this before?”
The article went on to praise me and my stunts. Snobbish as she was, it was expected that Rainbow Chang would not write much about Shadow, who was still only a newcomer on the Shanghai scene. I had succeeded in getting the columnist to show that I, not Shadow—despite the fact that she was starting to get attention—was still the one on top and in control.
In
The Art of War,
this strategy is called “superior positioning.” Always place yourself in an undefeatable position even before the battle begins. Then wait patiently for your enemy to fall into your trap.
The Art of War,
this strategy is called “superior positioning.” Always place yourself in an undefeatable position even before the battle begins. Then wait patiently for your enemy to fall into your trap.
I hoped to get Rainbow to continue to make me more prominent in her columns than Shadow.
PART THREE
15
Life as a Spy
A
ll this began not by any choice on my part but because powerful men considered me perfect material to be a spy—beautiful, smart, and, most important, an orphan. My plate was so empty that Big Brother Wang could put anything in it, and I would lap it up like a stray dog during a famine. Or so he thought. Yes, he had trained me to be the perfect spy, but had he considered that I could someday use the same training to fool him?
ll this began not by any choice on my part but because powerful men considered me perfect material to be a spy—beautiful, smart, and, most important, an orphan. My plate was so empty that Big Brother Wang could put anything in it, and I would lap it up like a stray dog during a famine. Or so he thought. Yes, he had trained me to be the perfect spy, but had he considered that I could someday use the same training to fool him?
Did I like being an informer? I really had no answer for that—it was the only life I knew, except of course, the one in the orphanage. As for my fame at the nightclub, it was not what it seemed but was just a cover-up for my true mission. However, in most ways my current existence was far better than life in the orphanage with all the other miserable, parentless, whining little people. At least I enjoyed beautiful clothes, designer handbags and shoes, and a luxury apartment with an amah and a driver.
Other than these perks, there was nothing desirable in being Wang’s spy. I considered myself lucky, though, because my target was only a single gangster instead of a whole country. So I didn’t have to deal with politicians, high government officials, ministers, or the president. And I didn’t need to decipher codes, analyze data, or steal boring state secrets like military maps, battle strategies, designs of tanks, and the like. Nor did I have to sleep with officers to coax secrets out of them when their guard was down. However, though my mission was relatively less daunting and my training less complicated, it was still dangerous. Despite his seeming affection for me, I could not let myself forget that being close to Lung was like, as Chinese say, “walking beside a starving tiger,” or “a sheep being put inside a tiger’s mouth.”
Any spy will have more than one name, one address, one disguise. Moreover, a spy must never cherish ideas such as love, money, fame, or comfort. To be distracted by such thoughts increases the risk of failure or, worse, being caught. For the same reason, neither should a spy develop a conscience. However, after a while I realized that having no conscience is, in fact, not something unique to a spy. Behind the heavy gates of ancient palaces, princes or princesses would not hesitate to kill their most loyal ministers, brothers, sisters, parents, or friends if these people were obstacles on their path to the throne. For the same reasons, queen mothers would poison their own sons. Compassion and kindness were talked about but seldom heeded.
What a spy needs is the perseverance to complete a mission, the courage and cunning to get out of a dangerous situation, and absolute loyalty to the boss. As for the rest, nobody cares.
That’s why spies are also called the “four nothingness”: no relatives, no friends, no identity, no morality. The advantages to being a “nothingness” is that no one can find out who you really are, and, having no attachments in the world, you will be unconstrained in your actions. If you’re caught and have no attachments to anyone, your secrets are unlikely to be revealed. Your enemy cannot threaten you by kidnapping or torturing your wife, husband, parents, children, not even your cat or dog.
That’s why a spy is supposed to think of himself as a “dead” person, or, since alive and active, at least consider himself fatally diseased so he’ll be fearless under any threat or torture. However, in case the torture becomes humanly impossible to bear, there is also a way out. He can crunch the poison pill wedged between the teeth, choosing death over betrayal.
A good spy might tell you nothing but lies, but he’ll never lie to his boss. An ideal spy is loyal, never questions his mission, will not hesitate to sacrifice his life, and will never reveal secrets under any circumstances. Therefore, any evidence a spy gives you, even under torture, will certainly be false.
Unfortunately, the Chinese are rightly famous for their tortures. In my training I was warned about all of these, though I sometimes wondered if some were made up just to scare me so I’d be careful never to be captured alive. Once having heard about these, it is impossible to forget them. Sometimes I would close my eyes and see a list of them, like something from a torturer’s manual:
Beating
—by rod / chain / whip filled with nails.
—by rod / chain / whip filled with nails.
Grilling
—to make a victim walk on burning coal until he drops.
—to make a victim walk on burning coal until he drops.
Finger-crushing
—place fingers between wooden sticks connected by strings, then pull the strings to crush the fingers.
—place fingers between wooden sticks connected by strings, then pull the strings to crush the fingers.
Toe-hammering
—smash all ten toes, one by one, with a hammer.
—smash all ten toes, one by one, with a hammer.
Pressing victim down
—under a huge vat as it is gradually filled with water or stones.
—under a huge vat as it is gradually filled with water or stones.
Feeding victim excrement / urine
—his own or that of others.
—his own or that of others.
Feeding victim hair
—The victim’s hair is cut off and shredded into minuscule bits, then mixed with tea and poured into the victim’s mouth. The hairs will stick to his internal organs, and there is no way to get them out.
—The victim’s hair is cut off and shredded into minuscule bits, then mixed with tea and poured into the victim’s mouth. The hairs will stick to his internal organs, and there is no way to get them out.
Flower blooming in snow
—Beating the victim in fallen snow so the torturer can appreciate the bright red blood spilling over a pristine white surface.
—Beating the victim in fallen snow so the torturer can appreciate the bright red blood spilling over a pristine white surface.
Lighting the kerosene lamp
—Pour kerosene into victim’s navel, then insert a wick and light it.
—Pour kerosene into victim’s navel, then insert a wick and light it.
Slaughter-the-pigs bench
—The victim is tied down on a bench and a four-inch thick book placed on his chest; then the book is struck repeatedly with a heavy hammer. This will cause internal bleeding and crush internal organs, but there will be no external wounds. For this reason, it is a favorite with police.
—The victim is tied down on a bench and a four-inch thick book placed on his chest; then the book is struck repeatedly with a heavy hammer. This will cause internal bleeding and crush internal organs, but there will be no external wounds. For this reason, it is a favorite with police.
Flying a plane
—The victim is on his feet and iron wire tied around his thumbs to lift him up onto tiptoe. When at last exhausted, he will lower his feet to the floor for support, causing the iron wires to tear away his two thumbs.
—The victim is on his feet and iron wire tied around his thumbs to lift him up onto tiptoe. When at last exhausted, he will lower his feet to the floor for support, causing the iron wires to tear away his two thumbs.
Flesh-slicing
—Slow carving of the victim’s flesh till he dies a lingering, painful death.
—Slow carving of the victim’s flesh till he dies a lingering, painful death.
Sometimes I doubt if anyone, no matter how excellent his training, could withstand any of these tortures. That’s why a spy will break any law or even kill a child to avoid being discovered—because he knows what tortures await him. Since no one wants to end up crippled or hideously murdered, if you are a spy, you don’t, or try your best not to, make mistakes, period. Unfortunately, your enemy will probably adhere to the principle that, “It’s better to torture or kill a thousand innocent people than to let a single one who did wrong go free.”
A spy must learn endurance. As a test, the trainee is sometimes confined inside a very small cell for days on end, with only a small slot opened to deliver a miserable meal and, on occasion, to collect the bucket of excrement. A two-way mirror on the wall is used by the boss to observe every move and how well he can withstand the pressures of claustrophobia, malnutrition, and isolation. Even when trained at the same time and place, spies are absolutely forbidden to make friends with one another, sometimes even forced to wear masks during gatherings. To prevent revealing their true identity, spies will adopt code names such as Lark, Eagle, Red Hat, Black Coffee, Watermelon, a number like H21, C15, or even titles of children’s songs such as Mama is the Best, My Little Sisters, Little Lamb Going Home, Mud Doll, Barking Dog, Ding-Dong.
There is a lot more to spying than just lying and deceiving. Spies must study the language—especially idioms and slang—of their target country. There are all sorts of technical skills to learn, such as writing in code or with invisible ink, eavesdropping on telephones, and using a hidden camera small enough to be disguised as a lipstick case.
I am sure that no one hearing me sing in a nightclub could imagine how cunning I had to be in order to survive. So I followed these teachings:
1. Practice the Dao of deception.
In
The Art of War,
one of the most famous lines is: “Warfare is deception.” Not only does one have to lie, but the lies must change constantly.
The Art of War,
one of the most famous lines is: “Warfare is deception.” Not only does one have to lie, but the lies must change constantly.
2. Miss nothing.
Pay attention to details, from people’s clothes, accessories, jewelry, to hiding places, exit locations, and numbers. Any numbers—on a door, a car, the date of a painting—may be clues to secret codes.
3. Keep everything a secret.
Never let your enemy guess what’s on your mind.
4. Wear down your target.
A tired person is less alert, more likely to spill information and, if necessary, easier to kill.
5. Show no emotion.
When you ferret out information, no matter how precious, never show any emotion. Act as if you are receiving a store receipt or a grocery list.
6. Learn to read lips and understand gestures.
7. Pretend you don’t know a language so that your targets speak freely in front of you.
8. Write in code.
Jot down information so that it reads like a grocery list or a family’s to-do list. For example: two fishes, five tomatoes, three pieces of mutton could mean two women, five men, and three small children.
9. Never keep a diary, and burn your garbage every day.
Never leave anything in writing that might be found. Of course you can write in code, but don’t forget that another spy might decipher your code.
10. Only stay in places with more than one exit. The Chinese say, “A cunning rabbit always has three hiding places.”
11. Develop a photographic memory.
12. Learn the art of manipulation.
The best way to destroy a person is to first destroy his mind. And to destroy his mind, you must build a daunting presence. That is why
The Art of War
says, “The best victory is won without fighting.”
The Art of War
says, “The best victory is won without fighting.”
13. Blend in.
As a songstress, it might seem that I was doing the opposite—making myself as beautiful and talented as possible to attract attention. But as an entertainer I easily blended into the Shanghai social scene, and no one thought about me beyond my voice and my looks.
14. Stay calm in the midst of danger and chaos.
15. Wait for the right moment.
The ancient philosopher Laozi said, “In action, watch the timing.” The even older
Book of Changes
teaches that the same strategy may work at one time but not at another. Or it might succeed for one person but not for someone else. Failure may just be bad timing.
Book of Changes
teaches that the same strategy may work at one time but not at another. Or it might succeed for one person but not for someone else. Failure may just be bad timing.
16. Live in fear.
Fear motivates and concentrates the mind—for a spy it might be the fear of having to kill someone and, even more, the fear of being tortured or killed oneself.
Not only did I have to remember all these principles, I had to practice constantly—watching myself in the mirror as I put on different facial expressions, wiggled my body seductively, or struck elegant poses such as shredded-golden-lotus steps and orchid-in-the-breeze finger configurations. At the same time I had to appear mysterious yet innocent—not an easy task, since these traits are usually at odds with each other. Mystery piques a man’s sexual curiosity and makes a woman more alluring, but innocence is useful, too, because it can arouse a man’s protective instincts. On an even more subtle level, if a woman emits the right fragrance, a man might be intoxicated by her without knowing why.
Some girls might be born with a fragrance, but this is very rare. None of the girls at Bright Moon Nightclub possessed this gift of nature. Many used Chanel No. 5, but this meant that their scent was all Chanel’s, and they all smelled boringly the same.
Therefore, though I received many costly perfumes as gifts, I only used them occasionally. To attain my special body fragrance, I had two procedures. Every morning I would bathe in a basin in which my amah, Ah Fong, had soaked fresh flowers—camellia, rose, lotus, lilac, water lily, and sometimes others. Every evening, she’d put flowers mixed with sweet-scented herbs underneath my pillow so the fragrance would permeate my hair, face, body, and even my dreams.
Even these efforts were not enough for my boss, Big Brother Wang, however. Still not completely certain of my charms, he had decided to do something unusual—and dangerous. He had long ago bought an esoteric, Qing-dynasty recipe from a one-hundred-year-old eunuch. This desexed, antique man had been the imperial herbalist who concocted perfumes for the emperors’ favorite concubines. Wang had paid a huge amount for the recipe but had no one to experiment on until his underling Mr. Ho found me.
Of course I’d never been allowed to see this priceless recipe, but I had heard about its legendary origin. Consisting of thirty-eight different precious herbs, including the most expensive ginseng, ground pearl powder, fresh honey, and the morning dew gathered from lotus leaves in the West Lake during spring, it was said that the recipe was invented by a doctor in the Tang dynasty during the reign of Empress Wu. Supposedly when the notoriously lustful empress had heard about this cosmetic genius, she’d summoned him to court to serve her exclusively. Then, fearing that the doctor would try to profit by selling the feminine secret to other equally lustful and scheming women, the empress had him castrated and kept him like a pet in her inner palace. In the thousand years since then, the recipe had been buried, stolen, destroyed, rediscovered, and probably forged many times. The secret was always kept within the eunuchs’ communities.
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