“I need some confidential information.”
The Chinese man leaned away from Tristan, eyeing him uneasily. sai’d’ I want to talk to somebody in the Wing Sin Triad,” Tristan “I’ve never heard of it, sir,” the concierge said.
“Come on now,” Tristan said. He took twenty dollars from his pocket and put it on the desk.
“I’ve come a long way.”
“Triads are illegal in Hong Kong,” the concierge said. He pushed the money back to Tristan.
“I don’t really care about their legal status,” Tristan said.
“I just want to talk to somebody in the Wing Sin. I need some information. I’m willing to pay.”
“I beg your pardon,” the concierge said, “but I don’t know anything about triads.” He seemed nervous, even edgy.
Tristan studied the concierge’s face for a moment, then nodded.
“Okay, but why don’t I leave this twenty here in case you remember. We’ll be here for a few days.”
The concierge looked down at the twenty-dollar bill with disgust.
It was hardly enough to justify the risk. As far as tips and squeeze were concerned, the Australians were the worst. They truly were barbarians.
The concierge raised his eyes and watched the man cross the lobby and meet with a dark-haired Caucasian woman, then head up to the bar. As soon as they were out of sight, he reached down and picked up the receiver on one of his many telephones. He’d had a lot of strange requests since he’d worked at the Peninsula, but t1tis was one of the strangest.
Marissa swirled the ice cubes in her glass of mineral water and listened to Tristan reminisce about his childhood in a suburb of Melbourne. It sounded idyllic. He’d commuted each day to an English-style public school in the city via a green tram and a red train. He’d had a stamp collection and went to church on Sunday.
His father was a schoolteacher.
“It was a sheltered life,” he admitted.
“But very pleasant. To this day, I have a definite nostalgia for its simplicity.
“Unfortunately my father died,” Tristan said.
“He’d never been the picture of health. All the sudden he wilted and died.
Wasn’t even sick that long. After that, we moved from Melbourne to Brisbane where my mother’s family was involved in the restaurant business on the Gold Coast. That’s how I happened to go to the University of Queensland.”
Marissa was exhausted. The traveling was taking its toll. She enjoyed listening to Tristan, but was eager to turn in. She was also thinking about phoning Robert.
“Maybe we should call it a day,” she said when there was a lull in the conversation.
“I think I’d better give my husband a ring to let him know I’m here.”
Marissa had told Tristan about her childhood in Virginia and about her surgeon father and how she’d ended up in medical school. She’d also been careful to tell him about Robert, purposefully avoiding mention of their current marital problems.
“Yes, of course, call him!” Tristan said, standing up for Marissa.
“Why don’t you go on up? I’ll be along soon. I thought perhaps I might quiz some of the taxi drivers about the Wing Sin.”
Marissa took the elevator to the sixth floor. She had her key in hand, but the moment the elevator door parted, the hall porter appeared from nowhere and opened her door for her. She tried to thank the man but he bowed and wouldn’t even look her in the eye.
She called Robert as soon as she got in. She decided to make it a collect call, not sure how her finances would hold out.
“You just caught me on the way to the office,” he told her after accepting the charges.
“Have you sold the stock?” Marissa asked. She thought of it as the call was going through.
“No, I haven’t sold the stock,” Robert admitted.
“When are you coming home? And where are you? I tried calling your hotel.
I was told you’d checked out.”
“I’m not in Australia anymore,” Marissa said.
“I’m calling to let you know I’m in Hong Kong.”
“Hong Kong!” Robert yelled.
“What the hell are you doing in Hong Kong?”
“Just a little investigative work.”
“Marissa, this is too much!” Robert fumed.
“I want you home.
Do you understand?”
“I’ll take it under advisement,” Marissa said, echoing Robert’s reply to her request to sell his stock. Marissa hung up. There was no point trying to talk to him. He didn’t even inquire about how she was feeling.
Marissa went to the window and gazed out at the scene. Even in the dark of night, Hong Kong boiled with activity. It could just as well have been the middle of the day. The lights of multitudinous vessels moved like fireflies over the surface of the water.
Across the harbor in Central on Hong Kong Island, the windows in the office high-rises were all ablaze, as if the businessmen could not dare to take an hour off. In Hong Kong the seductive ness of capitalism was complemented by the sheer power of human endeavor on a twenty-four-hour basis.
Just then Marissa heard a door close. She assumed it was Tristan. Within seconds there was a knock on the connecting door. Marissa told him to come in.
“Good news, luv,” Tristan said excitedly.
“One of the Caucasian doormen gave me a tip. He said there is a place not far from here where the triads reign supreme.”
“Where?” Marissa asked.
“In an area called the Walled City,” Tristan said.
“It isn’t really walled, but it was way back when. It was built as a fort in the twelfth century by the Sung dynasty. The Japanese occupying forces in World War II had the walls torn down to extend the runway at Kai Tac Airport. But the salient feature is that the British and the Chinese could never decide who had jurisdiction.
So this little area has existed over the years in a kind of political limbo. Yet it’s right here on the outskirts of Kowloon.”
“You sound like a tour operator,” Marissa commented.
“Apparently it’s rather infamous,” Tristan said.
“The doorman said that if we wanted to contact the triads, he thought the Walled City would be a good place to start. What do you say about heading over there and giving it a go?”
“Now?” Marissa questioned.
“You’re the one who’s so eager,” Tristan said.
Marissa nodded; it was true. It was also true that her unsatisfying phone conversation with Robert had filled her with nervous energy.
“Okay!” she said.
“Let’s give it a try.”
“Good show,” Tristan said. He got his hat. Together they headed for the door.
The Chinese taxi driver wasn’t enthusiastic about their intended destination.
“I don’t think you want to go to the Walled City,” he said. Marissa and Tristan were already in the backseat of his Toyota.
“It’s not a place for tourists.”
“But we’re not going as tourists,” Tristan said.
“The Walled City is a pocket of crime,” the driver warned.
“The police don’t go in there.”
“We’re not looking for the police,” Tristan said.
“We’re looking for the Wing Sin.”
Reluctantly the driver put the car in gear.
“It’s your heads,” he said.
They pulled away from the hotel and turned up Nathan Road into the gaudy glow of Tsim Sha Tsui nightlife. Just like the harbor, the city was as busy as it had been during the day. Their cab inched through swarms of pedestrians, cars, and buses.
Above, garish neon fights lit the night sky. Across the road hung banners emblazoned with huge Chinese characters.
Feeling overwhelmed by the sights, Marissa turned inward into the taxi. With all the talk about triads, she asked Tristan what they were.
“They’re secret societies,” Tristan explained, “with all the usual secret oaths and rituals. The term triad comes from the relationship among heaven, earth, and man. They started hundreds of years ago as subversive political organizations, but soon found crime more rewarding. Especially the ones that either came to Hong Kong or were founded here. There are supposed to be about fifty gangs in Hong Kong alone, with thousands upon thousands of members.”
“That’s comforting,” Marissa said with a short laugh.
“The Chinese have the dubious distinction of being the inventors of organized crime,” Tristan continued.
“That’s one of the reasons they’re so good at it. Centuries of experience. These days the bigger triads have branches in Europe, the U.S.” Canada, even Australia. Anywhere there is a Chinese community there are likely to be triad members.”
“And maybe also TB salpingitis,” Marissa added.
Tristan shrugged.
“Possibly. But Chinese crime is nothing new.”
“I have to admit,” Marissa said, “until I met you, I’d never heard of triads.”
“I’m not surprised,” Tristan said.
“Most people haven’t. The Mafia gets all the attention and the triads like it that way. But the triads are worse than the Mafia. At least the Mafia has a family oriented morality, no matter how twisted it may be. Not so with the triads. The triads only concern themselves with money. Profit is the only ethic they know.”
“I don’t like the sound of all this,” Marissa said uneasily.
“I warned you,” Tristan said.
The taxi driver stopped on Tung Tau Tsen Road.
“Where’s the Walled City?” Tristan questioned, leaning between the seats to see ahead.
“This is as far as I go,” the driver said. He pointed through the windshield.
“See those tunnel openings across the street? That’s how you get in. The Walled City is this mess here to our right. If you want my advice, don’t go in. It’s dangerous. Let me take you to a nice nightclub, real sexy.”
Tristan opened the taxi door, got out, and held it for Marissa.
“Thanks for your advice, mate,” he said.
“Unfortunately, we’ve got business with the Wing Sin.”
As soon as the door closed, the taxi made a quick U-turn. The driver hit the gas and was off.
“Are you sure about this?” Marissa asked. The taxi driver’s warning and Tristan’s rundown on triads made her wonder how dangerous it was.
“Looks rather formidable, doesn’t it?” Tristan said.
They were standing before a honeycomb of tenements, ten to eleven stories high. The buildings were jammed together and had fallen into utter disrepair. What more recent construction there was appeared to have been completely haphazard. Clothes were strung on lines that stretched from building to building. No roads led into this corner of town. There were only the dark tunnels the taxi driver had pointed out.
“Let’s give it a go,” Tristan said with a shrug.
“We can always leave.”
Reluctantly Marissa followed Tristan along Tung Tau Tsen Road, heading for one of the tunnels. On one side loomed the dark mass of the concrete slum. On the other side, in sharp contrast, were brightly lit windows of a row of dentists’ offices containing jars of pickled teeth, parts of jawbones, and sets of smiling dentures. Above the dental offices were more normal appearing apartment blocks with balconies, potted plants, and TV aerials.
There were plenty of people on the dental side of the road, with the usual sounds of blaring radios, TVs, and conversation. But the other side of the road was ominously quiet and dark, with only infrequent lights.
Leaving the area of normal life and activity, Marissa and Tristan approached one of the tunnels that led into the walled city.
Together they peered down the lonely corridor. The view was hardly inviting. The narrow, dark passage ran for about fifty feet before angling off to the side. The floor was loose dirt littered with broken pieces of concrete. The walls were covered with graffiti. The ceiling was a tangle of electric wires and cables with infrequent bare light bulbs. Water dripped into slick puddles in several spots.
Suddenly a horrid screaming noise occurred that made Mafissa involuntarily grab Tristan. Both leaped from fright as a 747 thundered overhead heading for a landing at Kai Tac, barely missing the tops of the buildings.
“I’d say we’re a bit high-strung,” Tristan remarked with a nervous laugh.
“Maybe we’d better skip this Walled City,” Marissa suggested.
“I don’t know,” Tristan said.
“If we want to contact the Wing Sin, this place looks promising to me.”
“It looks terrible to me,” Marissa said.
