The article in Time looked innocent enough but to Lauffer, James Arthur it was more than that. It was a report about the provinces in China near the border with Russia and Kazakhstan and the unrest that was growing in that region. The Red Army normally a force strong enough to suppress any uprising the little villages and towns could manage was being held at bay by a rag tag band of bandits. This time the resistance was a little more persistent. For some reason the uprising had grown into a formidable force strong enough to hold off the Red Army for a time. China was crying foul, claiming that the Russians or the Americans were supplying the rebels with food, guns and ammunition. It was an accusation strenuously denied by the US and Russia. What bothered Lauffer was the detailed descriptions given of the arms seized in the skirmishes. AK47s and M16s, M203s, Stingers, NATO 5.56 mm casings. The quality was far too good to be of Philippine manufacture. Lauffer dialed his boss Dave Mercuro.
“Dave. Have you seen this piece on China in Time? Page 67.”
“Yes. What do you make of it?” Mercuro asked offhandedly. He had more pressing matters to attend to and a news article in a magazine was hardly cause for concern.
“The weapons are high grade. And we don’t know where they come from.”
General Qin and National Security Minister Sung stared at the weapons before them which lay incongruously on the rosewood conference table in the National Security Minister’s office. An AK47 and an M203 attached to an M16, perfect replicas, no serial numbers, no model numbers, no markings except for the markings for safety and auto.
“Seized from the battlefield. These were pried from the hands of rebel traitor.” General Qin reported. The NSM looked gravely at the guns before him and seemed deep in thought.
“Find out where they came from.” He said at last breaking the icy silence in the room.
For years Sung had known that foreign forces were trying to bring the Chinese state to heel. This was the first real proof. Foreign weapons, for he knew the rebels could not have fashioned such precision equipment, and free as well, for he knew they had no money. That was one of the reasons they fought. In the coastal towns and cities rich businessmen and their companies flourished with the sanction of the Communist government under not so Communist conditions. Hong Kong was the anomaly that brought the contradiction to the fore. So too GuangZhou and Shenzhen. It was as though these regions were singled out for Capitalism to reign free and unchecked. They had called it an experiment, Communist government with market economics. The peoples in the interior and the north and west were not convinced. Nor amused.
Pakistan. A CNN reporter tracking contraband headed north to the CIS ex Soviet found to his surprise not drugs but guns in the back of a truck which was part of a convoy. Apparently his contact had sent him to the wrong convoy and perhaps to his doom. And nobody knew anything about him. Thomas Bliss cursed his luck when he realised the gravity of his mistake. The druggies were expecting him and would have given an interview albeit anonymously. These gentlemen were different. The guns were unmarked but bore a strange hallmark on the ammo cases. Licensed M16s ,AKs, MGs, M203s.
Bliss turned at the sound but he would never see the man who pulled the trigger. His last act was to hit the Send button on the hand held computer sending a message with a scan that was instantly transmitted through the Earth’s atmosphere to a satellite and finally down again to Delhi office.
The body of the reporter was excess baggage and would never be brought along. Neither would it be buried. The men got on with their business leaving the bleeding carcass behind the truck. The short stop for coffee was over. They had another 2 days drive to go and there was a substantial reward at the end. Their British boss came by to see the body. He showed no emotion, merely stepped on the palmtop to crush it and then gave the order to move out. Thirty heavy duty Hinos growled to life as men mounted the tailboards and in a matter of minutes the convoy was on its way again. The boss waited for the main body to get moving before getting into his Hummer.
“OK. Let’s go.” He said to the Indian driver who put the automatic in drive and sent the Hummer lurching after the convoy of trucks. It was a well appointed Hummer with leather seats and air conditioning though in the cool morning air the windows were down. The boss pulled out an aluminium tube from his pocket and unscrewed the cap deliberately. He extracted a large cigar and put it in his mouth, lighting it with a solid gold S.T. Dupont lighter.
“Can we confirm this?” Rao asked his team who had been assembled rather hastily that morning at his behest.
“Where did this come out of? Do we have anything on the GPS regarding the signal source location?” There were to many questions and not enough answers.
“Source confirmed North West Pakistan. The voice was definitely Tom’s”
There was a silence in the room. They had witnessed a colleague’s death albeit indirectly and they knew that it was an acceptable occupational hazard. To many in the room Tom was a friend and for a while it was that which occupied them more than the mission at hand.
“Send it up to Atlanta” Rao growled and turned to his room. He had a few calls of his own to make. He was relieved that Thomas Bliss had no family to speak of.
The lethargy of the last three months of army service was difficult to shake off but Daniel Tan did his best to get up early. The next day would be the last day of his national service in the Singapore Armed Forces and he was more than glad. He considered the two and a half years an utter waste of time and often said to himself that he would have given up all the friends he’d made in the army if he didn’t have to go through it. It was amazing what went on in the army, how a strict regime for the bulk of the service degenerated in the last days to utter sloth and slovenliness. Cpl. Daniel Tan, signaler, Platoon 1, Alpha Company, Armour put on his uniform and stumbled to the wash room to clean up. His colleagues were only just regaining consciousness. The sight of the rising sun above the sheds that housed the tanks stopped him in his tracks. This barrack had been his home for a year and a half and he had never once stopped to admire the light of the lithium dawn. Perhaps it was because by sunrise on a normal day a little grunt like himself would already have been up for an hour or more doing the menial chores that the army specialised in. Was there a future beyond the crimson light Daniel wondered, for he could not really see one.
“Daniel. ROD lo!” A familiar voice called from behind him. He turned to greet his friend and fellow signaler Raymond Lee. Cpl. 1st Class. He too was dressed in the familiar green t shirt and dark blue shorts that characterized the ranks.
“One more fucking day in the fucking army. One more day and you get to spend the rest of your life as a fucking reservist.” The two men shuffled of to the wash room for a shower. One more fucking day.
Three months ago the ruling regarding meals had been relaxed. Three months ago many things had been relaxed. Daniel and Raymond had done their morning chores of cleaning up their assigned areas and climbed briskly down the stairs from the 4th floor. The old rules were that breakfast was a compulsory meal presided over by an NCO charged with the responsibility of ensuring that the men collected their army supplied breakfast in turn from the cookhouse and then promptly threw the crap into the rubbish can before proceeding to the 2nd floor of the very same building to buy a more appetizing breakfast at their own expense. This went on for as long as Daniel could remember. Three months ago the new batch of soldiers came into the unit and became the new whipping boys for the tyrannical bastards known as Commanders. The old rules applied to them and new ones were assigned the outgoing team. On the ground floor they greeted a rather harried Sgt. Gary Richmond who had just finished a hasty breakfast and was on his way back to the platoon office. Once the fear of every lower rank Sgt. Richmond was now more concerned with the new batch and did not even condescend to return their greeting.
“Sarge is getting old.” Raymond commented as they walked up the tarmac road to the double storey cuboid cookhouse block which was strategically placed equidistant between four different units in the camp.
“Sarge is not our business anymore.” Daniel said. “In three months I’m off this rock.”
Daniel Tan was a genius by any standards. Academically he had excelled effortlessly to the puzzlement and sometimes annoyance of his teachers in school. He had secured a place at the National University of Singapore with an ‘A’ level result of 6 distinctions inclusive of 2 special papers and entry to whatever faculty of the local university was quite literally academic. Daniel, however, had other plans. He set his sights a bit further afield to the United Kingdom, to the University of London. His interest lay in social sciences and so he selected to apply for a place in the prestigious London School of Economics and Political Science. Entrance was easy but financing was not. Daniel’s family was not rich unlike his friend beside him who came from a family of means. Daniel needed a scholarship or bursary badly but baulked at the idea of mortgaging his future to the tyrants he already disliked. Necessity was the mother of everything including principles it would seem and Daniel soon found himself knocking on many doors in search of a sponsor. Over the next two weeks, he had 5 interviews for scholarships scheduled. In many ways he was envious of the man beside him. He would never have to work for a living, never have to worry about his next meal. At age 22 he was self sufficient on his eventual inheritance alone. Though Raymond was his friend sometimes that envy turned to distaste. Raymond had it easy. Upon leaving the army he would do absolutely nothing for a year before leaving for Australia or the UK to some 2nd rate university, in Daniel’s estimation at least, and plug his way ponderously toward a mundane and thoughtless degree. It was unfair to think that way, Daniel often told himself, but he could not help it. His own path was paved with peril and struggle and in the absence of finance in the next two weeks his plans would forever remain very much just plans.
“Going to UK right?” Raymond asked his friend over breakfast.
“I hope so. I haven’t decided yet.” What Daniel meant was that finance was not a certainty. It was indeed tenuous. “I think I will go.”
“Why don’t you take a year out with me. Travel around first, take it easy. Next year we’ll both go.” The truth was that Raymond would have gone immediately if he had the chance but he couldn’t qualify based on his rather mediocre academic credentials. His plan included a 8 month crash course in Australia to beef up his qualifications so that a UK university would accept him. He envied Daniel for his intelligence. He had to work for results but his friend made short work of the most convoluted academic subjects. He had even made his teachers feel inadequate in many instances.
They were good friends but rivals as well, as many friends are, but one thing that would exceed their own selfish purposes was their loyalty to one another.
“The economy looks like it’s getting worse. Good time to study and stay out of it.” Daniel remarked lighting a cigarette.
“Yes. Pity those guys who ROD and have to go find jobs at this time.”
“You’ll be surprised. Those will probably do best. Its those of us who take the time out who lag behind. I guess the worst of times is sometimes the best of times.”
“Dickens.” said Raymond who was quite proud of his own literary prowess.
Sgt. Richmond was a busy man. He sat in the middle of a pile of some 500 files belonging to the current outgoing batch of servicemen. He searched in vain for the file of one Cpl. Daniel Tan. Signaler. It amazed him that there was no computer system for dealing with the service history of personnel and that paper was still the preferred medium. The exit of an entire batch of soldiers was always an administrative nightmare but one man was a particular pain for him. Cpl. Daniel Tan. MINDEF had requested his file including a report regarding certain aspects of Cpl. Tan’s service. There was a list of questions which Richmond had to work with and they took him back to Daniel’s previous units which was a particular inconvenience. It never occurred to Richmond to question the purpose of such inquiries. There had been a few such inquiries in recent times and he noted that they usually regarded individuals of a certain calibre. Some of them were officers he worked under and who never knew that they had been investigated in such detail, some were mere grunts, Privates of no consequence, one actually returned to the unit as a regular serving officer. Richmond never questioned nor had any clue as to the purpose or value of the reports he collated for his S2 office, he was just the leg man. He finally found the elusive file.
Cpl. Daniel Tan. First military training was Foxtrot company, Platoon 4, Infantry School. The Platoon Commander’s report was not exactly a glowing one. There was some trouble with insubordination. It seems Daniel was not a big fan of the army and made constant comments during the personnel interviews about killing his own first. Unusually hostile reaction to authority was noted. There was a comment on the serviceman’s intelligence which was assessed as above average by an Officer School recruiting team. Deliberately failed to make the IQ test as well as the group cooperation tests. Also voiced reluctance to be trained to be an officer. He was sent to the School of Signals. Graduated top of class. Same comments. Another incident this time the unauthorized use of signal equipment, the details were unclear. Richmond decided to check that out and made a note of it. He would check with School of Signals later.
Hong Kong, The Peak. It was a hot humid day. A silver Rolls Royce Phantom VI wound its way up the steep and winding road to an almost hidden turning. The little lane snaked a further 30 yard or so where a gate stood in the path of the Phantom. The gates slid apart silently and automatically and the Phantom proceeded up the driveway to a house best described as ostentatious. The majestic chariot glided to a halt in front of the main door and a doorman trotted quickly down to open the door. It opened before he could get to it and a man emerged dressed in jeans and a t shirt. He climbed the steps quickly and was met at the top by the butler.
“Mr. Chang, Mr. Koo is waiting for you in the study. Please follow me.”
“Very good.” Richard Chang replied and followed the black suited butler into the cavernous living room and through to the study which was located at the back of the house overlooking the tennis courts and swimming pool. Koo answered the door to the study himself him and ushered Richard in, closing the door behind him.
“Rick. Hello again. Please sit. Scotch?”
“Thank you TC. No ice. What did you want to see me about? You didn’t say.” Richard said lighting up a cigarette.
“Nothing much. Your Sheerluck organisation has been offering many scholarships.”
“Sheerluck is a charity. We do that sort of thing. And TransGlobal?”
“Rick, I have never understood Sheerluck. You don’t bond the scholars, you don’t seem to want them even.” Koo offered Richard the scotch which he sipped and placed on the marble coffee table.
“Our purposes are charitable, not political, TC. Tell me about TransGlobal.”
“Go check us out on your Reuters Rick. 6223.HK. Its all there.”
“I have a theory my friend. Tell me if I’m wrong.”
“What theory?” Koo asked sitting back down in his big chair and lighting up as well.
“You’re still sore about the past. That bank thing and then that immigration matter. I understand TC. But it’s a dangerous game you play. There have been no winners.”
“I’m not the vindictive plotting devil that you think I am. What is Sheerluck trying to do with number 5?”
“Nothing. Why interfere with perfection? BTM is more of a concern. You want a piece?”
“What price?”
Richard knew it was not a serious question.
“You haven’t answered my question TC. What do you think of my theory?”
“It’s an interesting theory. You give me too much credit, however. Perhaps with your help such a theory could become reality Rick.”
“Sorry TC. I’m a chronic kibitzer. I never play a hand. You still haven’t told me why you wanted to see me. Don’t tell me it was to recruit me into your diabolical plan.” Richard’s tone became mocking.
“I really want to know about Sheerluck. I wonder if the same theory might apply to you.”
“Number one, I am not Sheerluck, and number two, we are far too diverse for that. Look at our list of scholars. We don’t only fund scholarships but research as well. And outright distress relief. Its all there on our annual report, Oh I forgot, we don’t publish one. BVI law and all that.”
“Yes. Such a diverse range of recipients. Sheerluck must have deep pockets. How deep?”
Richard laughed in reply to that.
“TC. I’ll put what cards I can on the table. Sheerluck is indeed apolitical. I can assure you that. If you need anything on a personal basis I would be more than happy to oblige where I do not compromise my position at Sheerluck. I must say you have a brave plan. It might be good but I have to add that it’s a lot of trouble for such an inconsequential slight.”
“I do it for the good of the people. Of the whole region.”
“Very good TC. I work for money. It comes from not having enough of it.” Richard knocked the remainder of the scotch back and got up. “I have to go now. I will be in town for the next two days. Please don’t call me.”
“Keep in touch my friend.” Koo said and got up. He accompanied Richard all the way to the front door. The Phantom was waiting and ready and the door man opened the door for Richard.
“Nice car.” Koo commented. “Shareholders’ money eh?”
“Yes. Do you know how many shareholders there are in Sheerluck?” Richard got into the car and closed the door. The Phantom pulled away and disappeared down the driveway. It was a dangerous game that Koo was playing and there was little monetary reward even if things didn’t go awry. Why? Richard could not understand why the man went to the lengths he did. His wealth was his revenge, his position and the position he had helped Hong Kong attain in beating the competition, all sweet revenge. Wasn’t it enough? Richard had other thoughts on his mind. He had a speaking engagement in the city later that day at the Bank of China office. It was a Citigroup special and over 200 fund managers and analysts would be present. He had just about enough time to go back to the hotel and have a nice cold shower and suit up for the occasion.
The webpage called Freespeech.com was launched some three years ago. The webmaster was a Mr. Steven Loke a lawyer by training but IT specialist by choice. A graduate of the National University of Singapore Loke was a student councilor and was active in promoting the use of intranets on campus. Upon graduation he chose not to practice as a lawyer but to set up shop in Sim Lim Square, a local retail centre specializing in information technology. His expertise in IT gave him the jump on the local grunts who plied their trade at the centre. Two years later the business had grown into a healthy company doing a brisk trade in peripherals and hardware. It was then that Loke decided for reasons of his own to set up a web page that dissected the human rights records of countries in ASEAN and offered a bulletin board for discussion. The progress was extremely slow until for reasons of user anonymity, Loke decided to move the sever to the US where ASEAN governments might have less success in tracking the identities of the participants on the bulletin board. In addition to becoming a great place for one to freely air one’s views, the board also became a communication tool offering a blind as well as a database of political sentiment. The popularity of Freespeech.com did have its problems. For one thing almost all Asian governments immediately put the website on their hit lists, filtering out the site by the proxies of the respective internet service providers. In all this time the website was given no publicity good or bad. It was the prodigal. Perhaps governments feared the website, feared that more would follow and that for the first time in decades there would actually be free speech in Asia. Loke’s solution was that used by numerous outlawed sights, to stay on the move. The website was addressed as Freespeech.com, however the site was rarely ever accessed via that name. More often a convoluted path through mirror sights, routers and links was used to arrive at the site.
Cool Cuts. They were a chain of hair dressing salons that fit in somewhere between designer hair and cheap neighborhood salons and in Singapore, they were everywhere. It was an almost cool name that was at times comically reminiscent of a charcuterie. The name was the invention Mdm. Wong, a fifty something who started life in the melting pots of Geylang, the red light district of Singapore if that country could ever be said to have one. Mdm. Wong was an attractive woman with as much charm as glamour. At 34 years of age Mdm. Wong founded the Cool Cuts Salons chain. It began with a small shop in a public housing estate and grew to a 15 shop chain including a bridal shop and a photo studio.
Although there were outlets in much nicer neighborhoods Mdm. Wong liked to be at the Tanglin branch as it was the first one she had set up and was her home in many ways for several years. Initially she had stayed in the room upstairs with her daughter. It was late Saturday morning and Mdm. Wong had herself only just had her hair cut by one of her stylists and was reading the latest Vogue magazine when the phone call came. She was surprised to hear a voice which she had not heard in years.
“Lily.” The man said. It was the voice of a man she used to love many years ago and whom she never expected to hear from again.
“Hi. How are you?” There was an unspoken recognition.
“You still remember my voice.” He sounded pleased. “I’m alright. Lily, how is the business?”
“Its good. I am well also.” Madam Wong replied. She did not know what to say to this man whom she had once known so well. Time heals broken hearts and there had been ample time between them. It was so much easier to feel the pain when she knew nothing of him for one mourns the loss of a memory more than the loss of a person. The person changes, however, and soon one recognizes not the object of one’s broken love. When he had left she thought she could not live but fairly quickly the pain had waned. Perhaps adversity had been a good distraction as well in those early years when the business was in its infancy. When her daughter was in her infancy.
“Lily. I am leaving the country for good. I just needed to talk to someone.”
“Why are you leaving? Where are you going?”
“I’ll tell you from my new place. I have to go now.” There was a silence and she thought that he would hang up. “Lily. I still think about you.”
There was little she could say. The last time they spoke was a good 10 years ago. All she could manage was a quiet thank you. He hung up. What a strange call, she thought. For a moment she was taken back to the days when she worked and lived in Geylang. The flat was shared by 8 girls all of whom worked as waitresses at the nearby Sakura Night Club, but their duties went far beyond waitressing.
“Lily. Your daughter dating already?” Mdm. Tan one of the stylists asked Mdm. Wong waking her from her trance.
“Of course lah. 18 already what.” She replied. “And now school is finished and everyday she has nothing to do. Everyday go out lor. Boyfriend got or not also I don’t know.” She sighed as she remembered herself at that age. Outside the sun was shining brightly and the temperatures had hit past 35 degrees Celsius. The two women sat in the back room looking out the back door at the almost visible heat outside. It was a little past noon when a girl walked up to the door into their view smiling brightly.
“Mum. Auntie Tin.”
“Mickey. I thought you said you weren’t coming for lunch.” Mdm. Tan said getting up to unlock the grill door.
“No but I changed my mind. Mum I’ve got something to show you.” The girl said dumping her worn and tattered satchel on the ground and fishing from it a letter. She handed it to her mother who remained seated on the foot stool the whole time. Mdm. Wong took the already opened letter and extracted the contents. It was a letter of acceptance by the University of London UCL for a course in mathematics. Mdm. Wong was happy for her daughter but she was also sad. They were inseparable and now her daughter’s education would separate them for the better part of four years or so. She managed a smile but her voice trembled slightly with emotion. It was not as if she was unprepared for this as her daughter had warned her of this eventuality. She had applied for the place with her blessing after all but she had not expected the reality of success to be as hard.
“I’m going to miss you girl.” She took her daughter’s hand and pressed it. “I’m happy also.”
The heat was on the street and Richard Chang really did not feel like attending his own lecture. Alas his words were eagerly awaited as operations officer for one of the world’s largest asset management companies. Sheerluck Investments. The fact that he had correctly predicted the lapse of Asian economies into full scale recession boosted his credibility. Fortunately for Richard his entire route from hotel room to lecture room would be air conditioned. Richard arrived a mere 10 minutes before time which really made the hosts, Citigroup, rather nervous. As a piece of history, the Citigroup financial behemoth was taken over a year ago by the Asiabanc group itself held in majority by Sheerluck. That was how Richard came to be a guest speaker at the invitation of Citigroup sell side.
Bank of China main lecture room. Richard Chang stood before an audience of bankers, fund managers, analysts and economists. Michael Lewis, Director of Asian Research introduced him and he took the floor. He wondered what he could tell them that they didn’t already know so he decided to launch directly into his speech.
“Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for taking the time to listen to the ranting of another would be economist, although I’m not sure how much weight you can give to someone who is still in school completing an economics degree. First of all I’d like to say that there is no new paradigm. The old economics works just fine. The problem is that there may have been a structural break in the model but even that I believe is unlikely. What we have is the action of markets and economies under a natural classical model behaving in a fairly well defined way. I won’t bore you with how we got into this mess, Mr. Robert Hale has already done that some days ago in this very office. What I’d like to address is how we get out of it. That we will is not in question but how long it will take and just how difficult do we want to make it for ourselves is.
I must say that its surprising how Asian corporates replicated the mistakes of the Japanese given that they have had a good 5 years to learn. Well here we are, 3 years from the downturn 2 years from the then proposed recovery and still no end in sight. A couple of things that should have been done have still not been done. Number one, government and business are still too close. You cannot have a minister running a private sector company. Number two the markets have to be deregulated. That means we don’t interfere in corporates, we don’t interfere with interest rates under a currency peg, and we don’t interfere in the forex market if we wish to use monetary policy. In other words you cannot have your cake and eat it, a trick that many Asian policymakers have been trying to do.”
The speech lasted a good 45 minutes after which there was a Q&A session. Richard was bombarded with questions.
A fund manger with a Scottish house wanted to know:
“Last year you said that unless Asia opens up to foreign ownership the economies would rapidly decline. Well they haven’t and its rapidly declining. How far do you think they can operate this type of policy and continue and are there less painful alternatives?”
“That is a puzzling one. That the economies have held up so well despite the unwillingness of governments in the region to open their markets up. I expected a more dire situation under this type of policy and as for current state of the economy, well, I can’t explain it. I am at a loss. Thailand has given in and effectively begun its turnaround but the rest of ASEAN is still holding up. In fact the Thai stock market appears to have been punished for her efforts. I cannot understand it. What I do know is that the currencies have tracked lower and yet export numbers have not been very spectacular. If anything they seem to indicate that our trade elasticities are low and that price action is limited. So we know we can’t export our way out of this. It did look like a great idea in the early stages of the crisis but stability became an issue. So we stabilize the currencies and then allow it to go into a controlled depreciation. Our trade is too much inter ASEAN or against Japan so in that way we’re bound to find competitive devaluation of limited efficacy. And it appears to be the case today.”
Another question this time from a German. Thom Keifer of CSFB.
“What is your expectation for these countries going forward. How likely is it that they will do as you prescribed?”
“That’s not a fair question.” Richard laughed and the crowd joined him. “I don’t think these chaps are going to do much for now. Things appear to be improving and I think that the governments in the region find that the pace of this improvement is acceptable. I have in the past called into question the consistency of estimators with regard to price levels used in calculating real GDP growth so you know my stance there. So given that type of policy I would say that there will be no quick recovery and one will only be on the table when governments realise that change is necessary. No change, no recovery. Its their choice really and so far they have not been market friendly. Its sad.”
From the BOC building Richard would go directly to Kai Tak Airport where he would return to London via Concorde. He was relieved when the lecture was over and he was riding in the back of the car on its way to the airport. As the Concorde left Hong Kong behind in its wake Richard wondered about the future of the island. He had heard rumblings of unrest from Beijing. In fact just the day before there was an assassination attempt on the CEO of a China company right there in Hong Kong. The poor man was shot dead in front of his hotel and the assassins were never found.
The hot summers were a drag thought Kevin Lee as he typed out invitations to a party he was hosting. Kevin was a 2nd year student at the LSE reading Economics specializing in Monetary Economics. He was a ace student with a good shot at a first and he was a popular figure in the LSE Malaysian and Singaporean community. Kevin took time out from typing at his PC to look out the window of his 2nd floor room. The house was on 6th Avenue, one of the more expensive areas in Singapore and was also big enough to entertain his guests which by his estimation numbered 50 something. Why was it so damn hot? He couldn’t remember when it was this hot before. It seemed that the claims of global warming were true. Kevin walked to the bedside table where the air-conditioner remote control lay and picked it up. He turned up the power and put it back down when something caught his eye. It was a photograph, unframed, lying flat on the table. It was a photograph of himself and a girl taken at Hyde Park in dead of winter. She had short cropped hair and wore a big tan coat. It was one of the more vicious winters and it was snowing fiercely then and Kevin could almost feel the flakes settling on his face as he looked at the photograph. It seemed almost to suck him in. An email alert woke him from his ruminations and he replaced the photograph. The updated list of new students to London from Singapore that he had requested from the British Council had arrived. He had volunteered his services in bringing the new students of the University of London together in Singapore before they left for the UK two months hence. It was a sort of primer meeting, a get to know everyone party and it was also a chance to chat up the new girls before the other seniors got a chance. Kevin Lee was a pretty boy and a charmer and he knew it.
Business was a lot easier to do in the old days when friendship counted for something. Those were the days when they were kings, when they ruled the stock market. The 80’s. And then the music stopped and there were far to few chairs. It was a bloodbath but William Kong had weathered it well and prospered after. Then came the second recession this time far worse than any they had ever seen. 1997 was the year bubble burst again, 10 years or so from the last one. Again William Kong weathered it. He had entered a business venture with a few friends to supply injection moldings, fabricated metal parts, nuts and bolts, electronics, almost anything to a quasi government agency known as Fieldstone. There were three partners. Arjuna Abdullah, Tan Tock Keng and himself and together they did a lucrative trade. What William never considered was how they managed to secure such a profitable contract without ever having gone through a tender process. He had always supposed that Abdullah had taken care of things in his usual manner.
Sitting in his big chair in his big office in his big Holland Road house overlooking his big garden William Kong was master of his fate. He feared no one, not even his two partners for he had friends from his past who were well versed in the art of persuasion. They were friends he had made as a young man selling radios and TVs in a small Chinatown shop, with no more than a few dollars in his pocket and a burning desire to one day become someone. For pocket money William would run errands for a big time book maker who also owned the shop in which William worked. The young man was ambitious and longed to be an insider, a part of the main operation, not just a salesman for a fronting operation that hardly broke even every month. He got his chance. The details were unclear but rumour or legend had it that William had foiled an assassination attempt on his boss’s life and was quickly promoted to his right hand. Soon after, the old boss handed over all operations to William, deciding to retire to a quiet life in Vancouver. There was talk that William had engineered the entire thing, that he was the beneficiary of luck or fate, that he had all but planned his initial employ as salesman all the way to that of Boss. Whatever the talk on the street one thing was apparent, William Kong was The Boss.
It was a strange turn of events that saw Richard Chang at the helm of operations at the Sheerluck Investment Holdings trust. It was a strange turn of events that saw the emergence of this rather secretive organization that gained fame as a financial services group centered around a bank. The origins of the trust was not public information but what was clear were the intentions of the trust which was to provide funding for academic research where it was not economically viable in the short run to do so and to invest in human capital through scholarships offered worldwide. The sources of income of the trust were not known. The only public information about the trust was its distribution of funds for charitable purposes. In 1999 Richard Chang, then a student of mediocre ability at the London School of Economics and Political Science reading straight economics was installed as the executor of the trust. Richard had read economics for 2 years then and spent the final year setting up a system whereby he was able to turn over the daily running of the trust to a board of directors of his choosing. He then finished his course with a 2nd upper. What was not so well known was his paper in Heuristic Algorithms which he wrote and completed in his 2nd year at the school but which was submitted via Oxford and gained him a doctorate after prominent mathematicians there barely understood the paper. The theory had so far been fully understood only by two persons, Richard Chang himself and a fellow student at the LSE, Murad Khan.
Richard Chang arrived in London Heathrow at 2100 hrs. A silver Phantom VI was waiting for him and the chauffeur was quick to help him with his rather meagre baggage. The warmth of the air at 2130 in London surprised Richard but then it was summer. He just expected it to be cooler. The ride back to Passfield Hall was a boring one which Richard had made often enough to stop loathing. It was a ride that at non peak took a full half hour. The Phantom pulled up to the front door of Passfield Hall one of the more basic of LSE halls of residence and Richard was quick to dismount and get the bags himself. He thanked the chauffeur and made his way up to the heavy main door. Richard had to rummage in his jacket pocket for the security key. Passfield was empty but for the regulars at this time of year. There were a few tourists who had come to stay during the long summer break. Richard finally got the damn door open and went inside. The familiar voice of Stavros, the permanent porter with the Ph.D. greeted him.
“Oh fuck. Looks who is back.”
“Hello Stav. What’s happening?” Richard asked dumping his stuff at window of the porters lodge. Stavros offered Richard a Camel which he lit and dragged at. “Whole hall full of tourists eh?”
“Yes. Some nice chicks.”
“Stav. You’re an animal. Anyone come looking for me?”
“Come to think of it. Your girlfriend.”
“Short hair, dressed like a boy?”
“Yes. Nicole.”
“No. Nick. And she’s not my girlfriend.” Richard said as he gathered his things and headed back for his room G2. G2 was Richard’s permanent room. As a reader in economics and part time lecturer at the School Richard had certain privileges one of which was a permanent residence in one of the Halls of Residence. The warden’s post however threatened to fall to him as permanent resident staff but he managed to pass that honour off to another member of staff. The position of G2 was at the east corner of the Hall with only G1 further east. The room overlooked Endsleigh Place and Tavistock Square. It was in fact a double room but Richard had commandeered the room and built an attached washroom. The room also contained one of the most powerful computer systems in the University and was networked to the UOL net. In fact there were 3 computers, one main system used for general purposes and as server for the remaining two, one system networked to the University of London network, every student had one these days, and finally a safe system used to house experimental algorithms and work related files. The main system also ran a security system that was state of the art and protected G2. G2 was watched by motion sensor and smart cameras monitored and controlled by a pseudo AI system. The locks on the main door were voice activated as well as electronic key operated, the windows and doors were equipped with electronic locks to ensure maximum security. At first it was difficult to see the need for such security but closer inspection of the room would reveal that the clock on the mantle piece was an antique Jaeger LeCoultre Atmos perpetual clock in a jade case made for Asprey, another clock by the bedside was a Parmigiani restored Breguet Sympathique. A safe was built into the wardrobe in which was stored a few timepieces of exquisite manufacture. The need for security was paramount but most of all for the sensitivity of the information or data stored on the computers within.
Richard left his bags at the door as he walked in. His first thought was to check his PC for email and as expected the Inbox runneth over.
Khan was one of the best mathematicians at the LSE only it didn’t show. Only in his second year and already an expert in learning algorithms his current toys were a computer viruses. In particular Khan was working on a computer virus of particular ability. He had a game going with Richard who was himself a computer expert and as proficient a mathematician. The creation and destruction of viruses was the game. MLG1 was one of the more advanced algorithms they had encountered and both Khan and Rick had immense trouble tracking it down and containing it. MLG1 was the creation of Vincent, a Malaysian programmer with his own business running out of Kuala Lumpur. This little electronic organism had traveled many miles across phone lines and even power sources ( making it particularly infectious ) for testing by the London team. Rick had caught it residing in the cache of his DD player and sent it over to Khan who was now doing the testing and documenting.
Khan’s message to Rick: MLG1 capable of organic growth and mutation. Requires host code for propagation. AI capability at a level where it can sense detection and avoid. Exhibits selective patience when in hiding. Where did you get this monstrosity? What is its primary function? How about some pizza?
The message was dated two weeks ago.
Rick’s reply: MLG1 was a present from a friend in Singapore. Primary function is info gatherer, Intelligence and Hacking. AI level is a lot higher than you think. This thing went live on a chat page and passed as human. What’s interesting is its ability to travel through power cables as well as datacomms. Signal piggybacks AC and has a filter to re-decode. I just had a great idea which I am working on. Modeling base algorithm of MLG1 to mimic bioviruses. Is pizza still on?
1230 hrs at the Strand Pizza Hut Rick and Khan sit down to lunch. They spoke about nothing but the virus. “Why don’t you submit it for your thesis?” Khan asked.
“Its illegal for one and for another it’s a secret. It won’t work if everyone’s out looking for it now will it?”
“Can anyone find it?”
“Well. No.”
“No one?”
“No one. Not even if you knew it was there.”
“How does that work?”
“It assimilates and simulates the host code. It’s basic structure lies in the code so that it never has to be explicit at all times. When you look for it all you see is some damaged host code and if you detox it you lose the original host code. In fact its been so infectious so far even the Newton 6 Antiviro was infected. It actually became a carrier.”
“So how do you retrieve its output?”
“We keep a duplicate copy in our Malaysian server. Its just the virus mutating without any host code or interfering signal if you like. That’s our key which we use to decode. “
“You just compare the two.”
“Not exactly. The mutation is stochastic so we use a signal filter.”
“You realise you’ve created a beautiful monster?” Khan was visibly impressed.
“Last night we intercepted a Palace phone call which turned out to be nothing but staff but we still managed to get MLG1 to do a voice recognition and a translate to text. 100% recognition. Except for names of course. No Squidgys.” Rick chuckled.
“ Actually we have it resident on the WWW most of the time. Its really good on CNN. You know, get to see all the news before its news. All the stuff they drop.”
“You’ll go to jail for this you know. They’ll also give you a Ph.D. and a Nobel Prize but you’ll still go to jail.” Khan had an idea suddenly flash into his mind. “ How did you create MLG1? You didn’t model this on a biovirus did you?”
“ Actually we did. Almost exactly. The mutation and preservation of the code through the mutation. My God that’s an idea.” All this time it had been an academic exercise. “ Know anyone in Guys & St. Thomas?”
“ Er. No.”
“ I know a pharmacologist in International Hall. Do you want to work with him on this? He’s a guy from Hong Kong. Victor Leung.”
It was three by the time they were done and work was just 15 minutes away.
“So many going to London this year?” Mr. Lee asked his wife who was busy directing the help in preparation for the dinner party.
“They’re not just LSE. All the other colleges also.” The harried housewife replied. “And there are some Malaysians too.”
“Maybe LSE is not so selective nowadays.” Mr. Lee quipped.
It was quite ridiculous to wear a jacket in the tropic heat but Kevin was always the dandy. He assembled his guests in the garden by the pool and prepared to speak. He did the teaspoon tapping thing to get their attention as he had seen done on TV.
“First let me introduce myself, I’m Kevin Lee, I have spent a year at the LSE so far, reading economics and I wanted to get all of you together so that when you get to London, you won’t be alone.”
He went on to give a few pointers to the new students regarding travel arrangements, dressing for the weather and a general description of what the school and halls were like. He ended the speech with an invitation for questions which was met with a characteristic Asian silence. From his perch at the top of the stairs he was able to check out the girls. A few caught his eye and he sidled up to one of them who wore a cocktail dress and long silky hair.
“Hi. So what college are you going to?” He asked the girl who turned around to reveal herself as a stunning beauty. The dress was cut provocatively as well.
“Kings. I’m Alexis but everyone calls me Alex.” She said.
Mickey was feeling a bit lost in the crowd and was wondering what to do with her drink. She decided in the end to drink it. Almost everyone else was in a dress or a suit as the case may be and she felt a bit like the help in her jeans. Mickey marveled at the opulence of the house which looked more like a mansion. It was not a common sight in land scarce Singapore. Even more impressed was Daniel Tan who stood beside her staring up at the majestic building.
“Hello.” Daniel said to Mickey
“Daniel.” He introduced himself and held out his hand.
“Michelle Wong.” Mickey replied. “It’s a nice house isn’t it.”
“Yes. Very nice. Which college are you going to?”
“UCL Maths. You?”
“LSE Econs. You on a scholarship or on your own.”
“My mom’s paying.” Mickey smiled. “Are you on a scholarship?”
“I’m trying. MAS, DBS, PSC, EDB, the whole lot. Its tough when you’ve not been a student councilor or an army officer or anything.”
“How about a brain. They should value that if they have half of one themselves.”
They laughed.
“Why do you want to go abroad?”
“Why do you? I’m doing it for my health. Mental health that is. I’m tired of having to teach my teachers everything. I want to go somewhere else, you know, new life, hopefully somewhere where people think instead of merely do. What JC did you got to?”
“NJC”
“Was it good?”
“It gave me time to do my own thing.”
“I was at Raffles. We were never even given time to breath. And I was never more bored. That’s Singapore for you.” He laughed.
“Everyone’s more interested in the car you drive, the clothes you wear, the price of substance is very low here.”
“I couldn’t agree more. Say, do you have a place in the halls?”
“Yes. Passfield. I applied under a financial assistance package and they assigned me Passfield. I hear its one of the better halls in the LSE.”
“Wouldn’t you prefer an intercollegiate hall instead? You’ll get to meet people from all types of courses. Can you imagine having dinner with a couple of hundred economists. Its quite frightening.”
“I just had an interview this morning with half a dozen economists and it was frightening. Not in an intimidating way I mean, frightening in a horror story kind of way.”
That elicited a hearty bout of laughter.
“Scholarship interview?” Michelle pried.
“MAS. They wanted to know what I thought of the economy.”
“What did you tell them? That if you knew you wouldn’t need their scholarship?”
“I was begging, Michelle. A beggar’s demeanor is a bit less flippant. I told them that I thought that things would get better. I had to. To say otherwise would have been slapping them in the face.”
“What do you really think?”
“I think we’re sunk. No, really, I think we’ll be OK. Civilizations have come and gone, risen and sunk. Its just not our turn that’s all.”
“Do you always speak your mind Daniel?”
“Only if I don’t piss somebody off. Actually that’s not true. I have been known to speak my mind when I have one.”
There seemed to be an instant chemistry between Daniel and Michelle but it was uncertain if it was their relatively proletarian condition that brought them together.
Ravi Rao was reading CNN.com for the very latest when to his shock and consternation one of his staff, Anil Bulchandani, burst into his office brandishing an assault rifle.
“Ravi. Look at this.” He put the weapon on Rao’s desk almost upsetting the coffee mug.
“It’s an assault rifle. M16 American manufacture. Short barrel carbine.” Rao commented blankly.
“Yes but look at it closely. Hold it.” Anil said offering the weapon to Rao. He took the weapon and examined it. It was indeed as he had described it, a short barreled version of the American Colt M16. He gave the gun a closer inspection, breaking the weapon and taking apart the bolt carrier.
“No serial numbers. No manufacturers mark, no markings at all. Filed off so you think?” Rao asked although the finish of the gun led him to believe that the weapon was actually made without markings. “It doesn’t even say safe on the safety.”
“Made this way Ravi. Want to know where we got it?”
Rao raised an eyebrow.
“Illegal arms dealer in town. He had a few pieces only. Very cheap. 50 US Dollars.”
“Where did he get them?”
“Do you think he is going to tell us?”
“He might if we want to buy a thousand pieces. Follow up on this and Anil, please be careful.”
Rao was genuinely worried now. It was their job to investigate but he did not like sending a friend into such a dangerous situation. They had lost Tom Bliss just a few weeks ago in something that may well have been related to the current development.
The block of flats was as uniform and nondescript as they could get in a public housing development in Singapore. Since as long as he could remember Daniel Tan had lived in his parent’s Queenstown three room flat. Just two years ago his sister was wed leaving the home for a new one and leaving the room entirely to Daniel. It was not a big room by any standards and Daniel kept it perpetually cluttered with his PC and his collection of books. For over a week now Daniel had been at a loose end having left the army and the a huge weight of the service behind. The burden of army service lifted like a cloud from his mind and he felt more free than he had ever felt before joining the army. One thing weighed still on his heart. He knew that someday they would call him again though this time as a reservist. It was the sword of Androcles.
Daniel Tan got the call early Monday morning. It was a second interview with the Public Service Commission, a government agency which offered scholarships to only the very best. The secretary asked him to come in for a 1600 hrs interview and it was not a request, it was more a summons. Daniel climbed out of bed and collected his thoughts. He had to prepare for the afternoon interview, but what else could they possibly want to know. He also had a lunch date with a girl he’d met some days ago at a meeting for student’s soon to be studying in the UK. Perhaps he should cancel the date. He decided against that. He was not very good with girls and this one had agreed to have lunch with him. It was almost a first. He decided to call Raymond for a chat. He needed to do something to calm his nerves before he went to face the interrogators again.
The interview it turned out would be an inquisition on the life of Daniel Tan. The first interview with the PSC was easy enough if a little bit daunting with a panel of six interviewers and a secretary. They had focussed on his academic abilities, his extra curricular activities, general facts about his performance in academic and social affairs. The second interview took on a more serious and ominous tone. The interviewers numbered only three, one of whom did not speak for the better part of the interview. He merely sat at his desk reading from a file which Daniel supposed was a dossier on him. The questions rather than being fast and furious came slowly and were punctuated with awkward silences. This time they wanted to know in greater detail events in his life other than his GCSEs. They wanted to know what his hobbies were, who his friends were, what songs he listened to, what books he read.
“Mr. Tan. When you were at the school of signals you were reprimanded for misuse of equipment and gross misconduct. You were almost charged. Can you tell us what you did?
Daniel paused for a moment. His heartbeat accelerated. He did not expect them to get hold of that kind of information. This could blow everything, all his plans and hopes. He had to think fast and decided to come clean with the whole thing.
“That was a mistake. It was a training exercise and I was of course a signaler. We used signal sets to communicate between units but additionally I used a second secure signal to communicate with our units in the field. It was a parallel net to alert the men to movements of their NCOs and officers and to chat really.”
“Why did you do it? You knew that it was wrong.”
“I didn’t think it was particularly harmful at the time. It was a mistake and I paid for it.”
“What did you tell your PC in mitigation? Do you remember?”
“I asked him for leniency.”
“That’s not exactly right Mr. Tan. You told him that formal charges would have jeopardized your entry to the NUS. Isn’t that right Mr. Tan?”
Daniel paused and searched his memory for a possible way out. There was none. The information they had was good and he could not refute it.
“Yes.” He said in resignation.
“You had a place in the UK already. You lied.”
“No I did not. I had a place at the NUS as well. A place I would have to use if I could not get a scholarship. Gentlemen, I am not rich. My studying abroad depends on your organisation. Without a scholarship I would most certainly have to study at the NUS instead so on the assumption that I could not get a scholarship my place at the NUS would be in jeopardy.”
“Do you feel that the NUS is beneath you Mr. Tan.”
“No sir I do not. I feel, however, that 50% of an education is attributable to one’s colleagues. I want to work in with an international group. That’s why I chose London and not Oxford, say.”
“Daniel. In an election, would you vote for the government or the opposition. You don’t mind if we call you Daniel?”
“Please call me Daniel. I can’t answer that. Even in a non hypothetical situation my vote would be secret. And it is secret. Is the outcome of this interview dependent on my answer?”
“Daniel do you like the way the country is run?”
“In some ways yes in others no.”
“Which are the things that need changing?” The man on the left shot back.
The third man cut the other two interviewers off speaking directly to Daniel.
“Tan. You’re an intelligent man. These questions you’re being asked to answer are not as pointless as you think. You know that don’t you? You’re wondering where all this is leading.”
The third man motioned to the other two to leave which they did so that they were alone in the room. The man lit up a cigarette and puffed on it.
“Daniel, we have a very attractive proposition for you. We’ll give you the scholarship, all terms as described in the pamphlet you got the first time. But we need you to do a little work for us. This organisation is also a centre for research and as such we need to collect information. Simple things. A quarterly report on the economic climate in the UK, a report on the perception that they have regarding us, a report on how our own overseas students think about job prospects here or there, what they think of our government, how they see the economy, things like that. Do you think you can handle that?”
Daniel was well aware of the proposition he had been offered. He was just at a loss for words.
“You don’t have to decide now. We’ll give you a couple of days to think it over. Either way you’ll not publicize this offer.”
“I’ll do it.” Daniel said confidently. He had decided in his mind a goal and he would do whatever was necessary to achieve it. So the government wanted him to collect information regarding the political and economic views of students abroad, so what? He could do that.
“Good.” Said the man. He dragged long on his cigarette. “I like your decisiveness. It is an asset. You can go home now. We will take care of everything.”
Daniel was a bit hesitant. Wasn’t there going to be a briefing and forms to fill or something? He got up and thanked the man who remained in his chair and did not look as though he was about to shake Daniel’s hand.
September 13
The thirteen hour flight was a very surreal experience driven by the knowledge that return would be a year or so away. It was 0613 hrs and already there was a queue at the immigration counters. The single queue was controlled by a big black woman who directed the queue into six booths as they became available. Mickey waited patiently sitting on her bag and taking the time to put her travel documents in order. Immigration was cleared without incident and she went down the escalator to the baggage claim where all the baggage was already taken off the belt and sitting quietly in a row between belts. She quickly found her two bags, tossed them on her trolley and made it through the customs check point where nobody stopped her.
Mickey followed the signs which directed her through the ramps and corridors until she arrived at the London Underground station. She bought her ticket, got on the train and began to wonder if perhaps she might be on the wrong one. A quick glance at the map posted inside the car put her at ease. The train sat in the station for a good fifteen minutes waiting for passengers to slowly trickle in. Only when it was fairly full did the train finally pull away from the platform. Her first glimpse of London was of the backs of houses as the train passed through the land. It certainly looked cold and every time the train stopped to pick up or let off passengers, it was cold. The first smells and sounds of London bonded themselves to her memory forever. In a strange land the senses are heightened and Mickey noticed everything, the state of the cushions, the dirty floor of the car, the way Londoner’s or whom she supposed were Londoner’s dress, every little detail.
Acton town, Ravenscourt, Earls Court, Knightsbridge, Leicester Sq. the stations went by. At Russell Square station she quickly got to her feet and grabbed her bags in anticipation of the doors. There was never any real need to hurry but she had never timed the doors before and was anxious lest she miss the station. She hopped off the instant the doors opened.
The first breath of London air was putrid with smog. Mickey stood outside the station, map in hand, trying desperately to make sense of her location. In the end she decided to ask an LT personnel who gave her some simple directions. She walked down towards Brunswick Sq. and stopped in front of a large new looking building and then remembered someone telling her that International Hall was a fairly new building. Everything else looked old and drab. The sign above the door said Sheerluck Hall and by the time she decide that that was not the hall she was looking for she had forgotten the directions. It was not a very cold day being autumn and already she was beginning to perspire grappling with her two rather oversized bags and a backpack. She needed directions and looked around but saw nothing but strangers walking around going about their business and was a bit hesitant at stopping anyone. Fortunately she spotted a couple of Asians emerging from Sheerluck Hall and decided to ask them. What if they were new students and just as lost. She decided to give it a try.
“Excuse me. I’m looking for International Hall.” She accosted the first one who was less intimidating being dressed casually in a t shirt and jeans.
“Uh. Just down the road that way.” He pointed to a cuboid block that was about as aesthetically pleasing as a cuboid block.
“The last building.” He recognised her accent as either Singaporean or Malaysian.
“That one?” She pointed to it for confirmation.
“That’s the one. Can we give you hand with all that, it looks like a handful.”
“No thanks. I can manage. Thanks.” She smiled.
“You sure? Its really no trouble at all.” The man said.
“Fred” he called out to a suited Englishman leaning on a silver Rolls Royce.
“Fred, can you take this young lady and her bags to International Hall?”
The chauffeur got up off the car and came over.
“A pleasure sir.” He said tipping his hat to Richard. He gathered up Mickey’s bags and took them to the car.
“Thank you.” She said wiping the perspiration from her face. She must smell she thought. “You’re very kind.”
“Don’t thank me. Thank Fred.” The jeans clad man said. “Oh one thing.” He leant forward and whispered conspirationally in her ear. “Don’t tip him. He gets insulted. I have to go now, I’ll see you around.”
Mickey stood and watched as the man and his two friends walked off in the direction of the tube station she had just come out of. Fred the chauffeur had taken care of the bags and held the door of the Rolls open for her. It was just one of those days, Mickey told herself as she got into the car.
“It’s just a 100 yard ride miss. We’ll soon get you settled in.” Fred said to a rather bewildered Mickey. He swung the massive chariot around slowly and illegally and cruised up to the front door of International Hall.
“Fred. Who was that guy?” Mickey asked intrigued. He’s a bit strange isn’t he?. Well at least she was not used to eccentric Londoners so she couldn’t tell.
“That was Mr. Chang. He lectures at the university from time to time.”
Fred got out and escorted Mickey to the door, helping her with the rather heavy door then went to get her bags.
Mickey thought that the porter at the reception bore an uncanny resemblance to Robert DeNiro and that, together with his strong London accent made her want to laugh.
“Room 222, up the stairs, these ones, yes, down the far end of the corridor and left. Don’t end up in the west wing mind you.” He said so quickly in that thick accent that Mickey had to strain to make out his instructions.
“Thanks Fred. I can manage from here.”
“My pleasure miss. By the way I didn’t get your name.”
“Mickey.”
The room was shockingly bare and as spartan as the deserted and cold corridors she had just walked down. There was a bed, a study table with a chair, a cupboard with wardrobe and a really beat up old armchair. The window was big and opened into the courtyard which was drab and unkempt. Mickey supported herself with her hands on the table top and looked out at the courtyard. It was the colours. The colours were different from what she was used to. The colours and the light. Autumn had trimmed the trees to ghosts of wood forking into the air, the floor beneath was a carpet of dying leaves, damp and ochre, smelling of earth. The walls looked damp though it had not rained and the cold was more seen than felt. Facing her was another block mirroring her own, looking back. The basement she could see from her perch contained a sort of hall which she supposed was the dining room. Back in the room it smelt musty and old, the wood well used and the sheets well worn. The blanket was but a sheet of dusty wool, olive drab and ancient. The place needed work. A feeling of dread and fear came over Michelle as she stood at the window staring at her new world. It was a tremendous feeling that gripped her and she had to shake herself out of it. It was probably the trauma of the reality that she would be away from home in this strange land for almost a year. She turned to look at her bags which sat stupidly by her bed and decided that she’d better unpack.
On the Picadilly line westbound train Richard and his friends Colin and Derek were on their way to Jermyn Street.
“So you’ve taken to chatting up strange women? Colin jibed.
“Just trying to help.” Richard replied. “Hey Derek, your sister is coming over this year isn’t she?”
“Yup. London Business School. She’ll be here in a week’s time.”
“Yeah. Keep her away from Richard.”
“For your information I’m a decent guy. You’re the one always nailing Italian babes and English lasses. How many girlfriends have you known me to have.”
“One. All the same I’m keeping my sister away from you. You’re neurotic.”
“I’m not neurotic, just misunderstood, and I count none.” Richard said half jokingly.
“None? How about Nicole.” Colin knew Nicole hated to be called that. She preferred the more masculine short form.
“Nick is not my girlfriend. You guys are nuts.”
“Hey Derek, maybe you should introduce your sister to him.” Colin suggested. “What’s her name?”
“Hui Lin.” Derek replied.
“LBS. I’m impressed.” Richard commented.
“You’re interested.” Colin accused.
“Right now. I’m interested in waffles and milkshake.” Richard was referring to the café at Fortnum and Mason’s.
Chan Boon Yang had been a student at Imperial College reading Chemical Engineering some fifteen years ago. Upon his return to Singapore he worked for the then Singapore Petroleum Company making a decent living. Three years later he was recruited by Shell which saw him travelling to projects all over South East Asia. After 8 years and rising to Director, Chan left Shell to return to London where he established his own restaurant business. The restaurant was in its 3rd year of operation and was expanding into two other branches in the West End and Chelsea.
The Bamboo restaurant in South Kensington specialised in Malaysian/Indonesian food and was unlike most other Indonesian curry restaurants in that the food was actually quite good. Mr. Chan Boon Yang owned and ran the shop and also lived upstairs from the restaurant. An active evangelical Christian, he went to church religiously twice a week, once to teach bible studies. Chan sat at his study desk overlooking the crowded South Kensington street scene opening his email. While not an extravagant man his success as restaurateur and batchelorhood meant a healthy bank account and he could not ignore that. He owned the premises on which Bamboo was run as well as the flat above, he also drove a Jaguar in addition to the everyday Rover 6.
One message caught his eye. It was a message he got annually and he read it intently. There was much more content this year. It was a list of names of new students studying in the UK. A few of the names were highlighted in blue and others in red. He saved it in his secure hard disk. The telephone rang and Chan answered it before the PC answering service kicked in. It was a student who had just arrived in London and was introduced to him via email. One of Chan’s sidelines was as a councilor for Singapore students new to the country.
“Mr. Chan?” the voice said tentatively.
“Yes?”
“This is Daniel. Daniel Tan.”
“Daniel. Call me Boon Yang. When did you arrive?”
“Just yesterday. I spent the whole day unpacking. Would you like to meet up?”
“Sure. When and where?” Chan called up Daniel’s file from the link on the email he had just received and saved. He glanced through it and saw the footnote. IQ > 300.
“Anywhere you like Boon Yang.”
“I tell you what, lets meet at your place. International Hall right?”
Daniel replied to the affirmative.
“I’ll come round Thursday night at 9?”
“Great.”
“By the way do you have your own PC in the room?”
“No, but I can rent one. I think my sponsor will approve it.”
“Get one. Your sponsor will take care of it. Can you do this soon?”
“Sure. Tomorrow I can do it.”
Mickey spent the next few days exploring the neighborhood around International Hall. She discovered the Safeway’s, the Greek takeout, the laundry, the flower shop, even a gay and lesbian book shop. The neighborhood cheered her as much as it depressed her. Perhaps it was because she was lonely and the naked trees dark with damp made her feel cold. As she walked around checking out the other halls Canterbury, Hughes-Parry, Sheerluck, she saw everything, every detail, as only a stranger to the place could have, with wonderment. There was a barren park between International and the School of Pharmacy which looked particularly sombre. Across a fence was a large football training ground, a park for children. Even through the dim lit day the sounds of kids at play could be heard beyond the fence and it cheered her a little. Past the passage along the School of Pharmacy and the children’s playground was Mecklenburgh Sq. and the London House and William Goodenough halls the latter endearingly nick named Willy G. That square was home to the London House trust which catered to mature or married students. Mickey did not linger there for long but headed back west to more cheerful territory.
It was dinner time and Mickey made her way through the maze of passages that ran beneath the Hall and connected the bar, laundry, dining and TV rooms and kitchen. Although Michaelmas would not begin for another week the kitchen was already operational to cater to students who came to London earlier. Already a queue had formed outside the dining room. Inside and having collected her dinner from an army style buffet soup kitchen Mickey saw a familiar face and went to sit with him.
“Daniel. You didn’t tell me you’d be at International.” She took her seat across the table. He was visibly pleased to see her.
“Michelle. You’re in IH as well? Great. When did you get in?”
“4 days ago. You?”
“Couple of days back. The food’s a bit soggy isn’t it?” Daniel prodded at the pasta on his plate. It did not react well to the prodding lacking elasticity. “Where is your room?”
“222. I was hoping I could have got Ingold but I guess those are for post grads. Where are you?”
“Actually I am at Passfield room F14. I was just visiting a couple of friends. Have you got heating? I think Passfield’s is broken.”
“Heating comes on sometime in October I think. For now its on only nights.”
“Michelle, there’s a conference at the LSE I wonder if you’d be interested.” Daniel asked. It was the closest he could manage to a date.
“What conference?” Mickey asked between mouthfuls of pie.
“Richard Chang is speaking at a conference on the global economy. There’ll be a couple of IMF big wigs as well. And LSE professors of course. Might be worth a listen.”
“I’m not an economist.” Mickey declined but thought again that she had nothing to lose. “What the heck. When is it?”
“It’s on the 2nd day of Michaelmas. Tuesday at two thirty at the Old Theatre.”
“You’ll have to explain the content to me, I’m hopeless at economics.” The truth was that she had done the ‘A’ level course and got a distinction. She just preferred maths.
“I’m sure you know your economics.” Daniel said. “Being untrained is an advantage. You’ll find new ways of tackling old problems where the old ways fail. Just my two cents.”
“They’re worth two pence in this country. Made any new friends?”
“My neighbour is a Malaysian. E&E Imperial. He’s doing his MBA now. Funny guy.”
Mickey had managed to wander into the Houghton Street area and saw the main door to the Old Building where the Old Theatre was. She looked at her watch and saw that it was 1415hrs. Daniel had told her to meet him at the entrance to the Old Theatre. Already a small crowd had gathered outside and a couple of Daimlers bearing diplomatic plates were parked in the no parking zone on Houghton Street. Mickey edged her way inside the building and towards the Old Theatre. There were ample signs pointing out the Old Theatre and she followed them all the way to the gates which were still closed so Mickey waited around outside in case Daniel missed her.
“Hello.” A voice called to her from behind and she turned to see who it was.
“Did you finally find International Hall?”
It was the guy who had given her a proxy lift to International Hall on her first day in London. She smiled at him in recognition.
“Hello. What brings you here?” She almost did not recognise him in his suit and tie.
“Nothing much, how about you? You’re not going to that boring old thing are you?” The man said indicating the Old Theatre.
“Actually I am. Its not my idea though. I’m just accompanying a friend.”
“Must be a good friend. Not exactly a dream date is it, an economics debate?”
“How come you’re all dressed up?”
“What, this old thing?” Richard pointed to his own suit. “I’m auditioning for a part in this musical.”
“Oh, you can sing?” She laughed.
“No but I like the choir boys. Look, you’d better sit at the back so you can doze off or slip out if it gets too boring.”
“Don’t worry about me I have my chewing gum and a book to read. These economics conferences really bore me.”
“Good looking guy?”
“Hmmm. No. Just keeping a friend company while he listens to the fiction. When it comes to forecasting I’d sooner listen to the weatherman.” Mickey laughed and Richard laughed with her. “By the way it was very nice of you to lend me your chauffeur.”
“Would you forgive me if I told you that he was not my chauffeur but some guy’s driver and I’ve never met him in my life?”
“I wouldn’t believe you.”
It was 1425 and the guards were about to open the doors to the Old Theatre. Staff and VIPs were allowed to enter first while the rest of the audience would have to wait until these had taken their seats in the front rows.
“You’d better go in before the crowd gets impossible.” Richard advised as he saw the crowd morphing into a snaking queue.
“I don’t want to look too enthusiastic you know, people might think I’m actually interested in this crap.” Mickey said in jest. Richard simply smiled and turned to one of the ushers.
“Excuse me.” He said to the usher. “This young lady is waiting for a friend. Could you find them a seat in the front please.”
The usher seemed to recognise Richard and nodded his acknowledgement.
“Of course sir. I’ll put them in row 3.”
Richard thanked the man.
“Goodbye. I hope you survive the comedy.” Richard said to Mickey and edged away to be engulfed in the crowd. By the time she realised that she never even got his name he was gone.
“Michelle.” Daniel called squeezing his way to where she was. “Sorry I’m late. My God, we’ll never get a seat. Did you wait long?” he looked flustered.
“Daniel, we have seats reserved, come on.” Mickey beckoned and led the way following the usher who led them inside. The size and majesty of the Old Theatre was not as big and majestic as Mickey had envisaged. The usher led them to the 3rd row from the front amid some grey suited old men who seemed very important. It was the VIP section and Daniel was a bit puzzled but kept quiet anyway. They picked the hand-outs off their seats and sat down.
“I had a late lunch and then there was the mad crush at the Brunch Bowl. Utter madness.”
“Don’t worry about it. So what’s this talk all about anyway?”
“It’s in the hand out. The global economy. I think it’s about the Asian recovery.” Daniel was obviously enthusiastic about the whole thing but Mickey was more interested in dinner later. She was starving having skipped lunch and the walk from the Watson Library had made her hunger worse.
By the time everyone was seated it was 1444. The master of ceremonies greeted the audience and introduced the first speaker, Stephen Lang of the IMF to speak about the workout of the Asian financial crisis that had happened two years ago and the long term effects on the US and Europe. His was a long and technical piece which was beyond the understanding of most of the audience as they were market practitioners and used to a less academic treatment. For some reason it all made sense to Daniel who was jotting down some notes. Mickey sat quietly trying to look as if she understood. The next speaker a Professor at the LSE-Sheerluck Centre for Economic Research, Professor Carlos Costa talked about the European common currency or The Euro, and how perhaps an Asian common currency might be in the offing. A couple of other speakers spoke and Daniel even questioned them when the floor was invited to do so. Already his actions were noted by the ever competitive Asian students and questions would be asked about his academic abilities. The final speaker was Sheerluck Investment Trust’s very own economist.
“Our final speaker is the chief economist at the Sheerluck Investment Trust, he also moonlights as a mathematician here at the LSE, Mr. Richard Chang.”
At this point Mickey was already dozing off and not paying any attention whatsoever to the stage.
Richard began.
“Ladies and gentlemen, as I was waiting outside this Theatre earlier this afternoon, I was made aware of how utterly boring we economists or would be economists must sound. Its not much use really being understood only by the few for in many of our models we assume that the agents can understand that very model. That’s not realistic.”
Mickey sat up. It was the man she had met outside just a while ago, the same one who had helped her find International Hall. He did not seem to notice her.
“What has happened in the past we must study to understand, but having done that we must learn for the future. This is to ensure that at the very least the mistakes we make are new and novel ones. I think most of you know my view of the world, I hold with Krugman, in his assessment of the fall of Asia and of his assessment of the recovery which we are still awaiting. In the meantime we have managed to bungle our estimation of the economies of the UK and the US. Fortunately we have the European markets, without which people like me and the distinguished speakers before me would be out of jobs. The fault dear friends lies with the governments of Asia in the first place and the IMF in the second. If Milton Friedman and Adam Smith taught us anything it is that a rescue effort of any kind other than an efficient way of spending fiscally, is intervention. Markets don’t like that and I’ll tell you why. Simply, if a market is there to reward enterprise then it must be allowed to punish mistakes. Especially oversights. If the market is relieved of the right to punish, then it is useless in its function to reward. A market that can’t reward or punish would behave like a command economy, some would say but not so. That’s actually a more stable form than what we have today. No. What we have today is a market that is allowed to overreact but not to correct its own misallocations. The result is that the misallocations go unpunished and perpetuate. I have nothing further to say except good luck. That seems to work pretty well in the so called new paradigm.”
Richard remained on the stage to field any questions but he felt that he had given the audience too little to question and smiled to himself. After all, he had just advocated the reliance on luck which was a coincidence given the name of the organisation he represented. A hand rose, a question. The MC pointed to the raised hand and invited the question.
“Mr. Chang. Isn’t it the case that a fully free market cannot properly price certain goods or services and that a government’s role is to provide that which appears to be an intervention? Wouldn’t the pricing of enterprise be an indeterminate thing and thus it becomes the government or the IMF’s duty to provide a certain level of insurance?”
The reply was instant.
“I know what you’re getting at and I understand your argument. A non priceable good should be provided by the government on behalf of the market, yes. Do you believe that sovereign and corporate risk in Asia is not priceable by the market? Do you think that currency risk cannot be priced? If you believe that then yes, the government should be the insurer. If in addition there is no efficient market for insuring such risk, then yes, the government has that responsibility. But we all know that an efficient market for such insurance exists and whose pricing on premium affects the instruments it insures. So why should the government provide additional insurance? Unless the government was implicitly guaranteeing away the need and thus efficiency of such markets and their attached insurance markets.”
Daniel decided that he would ask no further questions of the speaker.
The Glory company was founded in 1983 from the ruins of a small trading company dealing in consumer electronics. William Kong was no expert in corporate finance but some of his associates were. One of his bankers at the time, an ambitious young man by the name of Dennis Ngo who was working with a small foreign bank in Singapore came up with a daring plan to make himself and William very rich men. The deal would have worked as well but for the megalomania and insanity of William Kong. In many ways it did work for Dennis Ngo who rode the wave of sentiment and momentum to his own advantage and got off when he was done. The plan was to eventually divest all control of the company having ramped the price up, but it was William’s financial naivete and entrepreneurial deftness that resulted in his retaining control of the company and in fact growing the business so that a once shell company that existed for the sole purpose of fattening somebody’s bank account actually became a bona fide business that was profitable to boot. One source of mystery was the funding of the company which seemed to come from nowhere. The truth of the success story behind Glory was that the funds came from an external source unaccounted for, namely, the illegal activities of its chairman and CEO William Kong, who was known to control horse racing in Singapore, Malaysia and Australia.
Through Glory plc William Kong found some semblance of respectability and legitimacy. It began as his front and grew to become his core interest and a source of pride. The main business had grown from trading in consumer electronics to contract manufacture of those very brands that used to be his principals, to printed circuit board manufacture, to specialised electronics on a contract basis. It was a business that put him in touch with the rest of Singapore’s legitimate businessmen, the elite club. It was at a charity gala performance of some local drama that William met Arjuna Abdullah, a Malaysian businessman. Abdullah was related to a certain Malaysian politician which gave him a considerable edge in doing business in the region. It was these connections that provided William Kong access, at a price, to one of the most lucrative piece of business he had ever done. The client strangely enough was a Singapore company Fieldstone whose business was undisclosed. Glory’s subsidiary Chartered Hong would provide PCBs made to order to this company. The actual liaison was a Singaporean woman by the name of Henrietta Quah. It was a cash generating business that saw Glory survive the slow down in the late 80’s and the mid 90’s. In 1997, however the company experienced abnormal losses made in Indonesia in numerous joint ventures made with friends of the CEO. Thus was broken the lifeline to the company as the political positions of these joint venture partners was suspect and also the scale of the damage got out of hand and the Fieldstone-Chartered Hong relationship had to end. Through no fault of Chartered Hong, by the impropriety of her parent, the lucrative business was gone. Fieldstone in an attempt to keep the supplier bought Chartered Hong from Glory providing a temporary respite to the parent company and to William Hong, providing him a tiny window in which to dispose of his holdings, something he did very quickly. The divestments turned out unsurprisingly to be illegal under the securities act and very soon the still very wealthy William Kong was under investigation by the Stock Exchange. Had the problem been purely a commercial one, William would have been less worried but because of the nature of his partners and his business, he knew very well that the retribution would be extreme and perhaps fatal. That was his own assessment and he had to act on it.
Perhaps it was a mistake to send the wife and kids ahead for it alerted the authorities and resulted in his being watched 24 hours a day but he could not just do nothing and watch the innocent fall with the guilty. Justice has no mercy he knew and so he sent his wife and two young boys on a trip to Johor Bahru. They would never come back through the causeway but would instead head north to the capital city Kuala Lumpur. From there they took a long flight to Sydney where they had a home and some relatives on his wife’s side of the family. He would stay on to face the music at least for as long as he could without jeopardy to his life.
These were supposedly the cream of the crop. There was a perception in the Far East that the UK was the education centre of the world. Even the best in the US did not command the same respect. As a result the best always ended up in either Cambridge or Oxford and the others who missed the cut would end up in London. Then there was Kent and Sheffield and Leicester and a whole bunch of other cities with universities living off the fees paid by foreign students. The ones in Cambridge and Oxford were a cut above the rest and they felt it. The Cantabs were a rather superior lot who thought themselves above the rest, even the Oxonions. The Oxonions on the other hand knew that they were the best. The truth was somewhere in between. Everybody knew they were good but that each school had a specialty. A German polytechnic issuing a diploma provided better training in engineering than even the most rigorous course at Imperial College. King’s London was renowned for it’s Law course. The LSE was the European Centre for the social sciences.
They were a closely-knit society. In each university there was an MSS which provided the link between universities and in such a closely knit society there was bound to be intense competition. The thing about this cream of the crop, as they believed themselves to be, was that they were given an easier time in these foreign universities than they would back home in Singapore or Malaysia, say. The home university had a reputation for rigor that exceeded the standards set by anyone anywhere in the world. What happened more often than not was that the students in England came because they were unable to fulfill the stringent entry criteria of the NUS. That foreign universities were actually better was not a given but a point of contention with neither side having a clear advantage.
The only available sports facilities were either private which cost too much or at the Union which was not the best maintained nor easily accessible. Mickey was surprised to find a squash court, just one, in the basement of International Hall. Her first thought was to find a partner and a racquet. She found Kim Yow, the engineer from Imperial who was quite an able player. Their first match was quite a session. For one the trip down to the basement, actually one level below the basement, was a bitterly cold one and when they finally got to the court they found the door was jammed. Kim Yow’s solution was a creative one. He gave the door a sharp kick sending it crashing against the inside wall and swinging shut again. It opened easily after that but by that time both Mickey and Kim Yow were howling with laughter. When they began playing they realised that because the floor was so dusty from disuse it was actually extremely slippery and they both slipped a couple of times. It was a strange feeling getting a work out in the damp and cold. Mickey didn’t feel very tired and the sweat that did break out was cold and clammy.
Mickey was a regular visitor at Kim Yow’s. She felt safe with him as he was like the elder brother she never had and he too assumed the role quite willingly.
“Ah Yow.” Mickey said as she stirred a pot of instant noodles. It was about 2300 hrs and he had a squash match against the Malaysian doctor in 515. Kim Yow looked back from his work on the notebook PC which he used in place of the more common desk tops everyone used.
“You’re on a scholarship right?”
“Yes. State government scholarship. They bond you for ten years you know.” Kim Yow replied.
“That’s quite long but at least you’re assured of a job.”
“From UCL you’ll be assured of a job back home anyway.”
“It’s a bit different these days. You haven’t been back for sometime have you?”
“I have. You’re right, it was quite tough getting a job.” Kim Yow lamented.
“Last time if you were a grad from a UK University it was like guaranteed you will find a job.”
“That was long ago. Now you have to fight for a place. And there are many Australian grads as well.”
In the early days of Michaelmas, Daniel was a frequent visitor to the friendlier conditions of International Hall. He always visited Mickey on his way to Kim Yow’s or one of the other Malaysian students’ rooms or the TV rooms. She attracted him from the time they met at Kevin’s introductory party back in Singapore but he never dared tell anyone least of all Mickey. It was a silly puerile affection that had some potential to develop but Mickey was blissfully unaware. There was the one night when she was forced to face the fact. It was a Thursday night and Daniel, Mickey and a large group of friends had just returned from a birthday party in Chinatown, and such things were celebrated to death among them for want of a better excuse to meet. Daniel walked Mickey back to her room and she naturally invited him in for a coffee, an opportunity he did not pass up. By then it was apparent to the congregation that Daniel was interested in the girl, but Mickey had a good following of suitors even that early on in the year, mostly seniors in their second or third year. These had the savvy and the confidence but Mickey was quite oblivious to the attention she was generating. Well, not entirely oblivious though she did pretend to be oblivious, a strategy that served well to keep them at bay. Mickey and Daniel began to talk late into the night as students do about everything under the sun and with the attentiveness that only new acquaintances accord one another. What fascinated her about Daniel was his intelligence though she was quick to distinguish this from wisdom, a distinction she made as much out of her own surgical perception as from academic jealousy. He on the other hand was self deprecating, almost annoyingly so at times. And annoyance was the first sign of real interest. Everything went smoothly until Daniel inquired about Mickey’s parents.
“My mother runs a chain of beauty centres. You know, the Cool Cuts salons.”
“And your dad?” Daniel asked sipping his third cup of coffee. He had had little contact with girls and was making the most of his and her time, a strategy that he failed to understand eventually wore down the girl and one’s chances. That last remark would set him back much more quickly than that. Or so he thought.
“He’s dead.”
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have been so nosy.”
“You couldn’t have known. Its not a problem anyway. Everyone dies one day.” She smiled. It was a vacant smile and not for the lateness of the hour but for the lie. It was a lie she had held on to all her life, a lie she used to block her own questions and dull her pain. It was a lie her mother did not approve of but Mickey was always headstrong and stubborn. She chose to block that part of her life out and no matter what Mdm. Wong did to try to tell her about the past Mickey would not listen. The truth was that she did listen, to every painful word, and she remembered it all in every detail. She just would not face it in the audible to herself or anyone else. In the past the lie had come naturally and the moment would pass but in the cold and lonely winter the lie was strained and the moment lingered. Daniel knew not such delicacies and ignored the tears that threatened to break from her eyes though she held them back very well.
“That was a lie.” She said at last with an awkward smile not knowing why she decided to confess something that obviously meant so little to anyone else but herself and perhaps her mother.
“I don’t know who my father is. I don’t know why I make up these little lies. I’m sorry.”
“You don’t have to apologise. I should apologise. It’s really none of my business.”
“I’ve never told anyone this.” Mickey went on. “I don’t know why I choose to do it now. Must be the horrible British weather.”
“You don’t have to say anything you know.” Daniel himself was unused to situations like this and the sight of a girl speaking rationally and in a composed tone while tears streamed from her eyes was too much for him. He offered her some tissue paper.
“Thanks.” She took the paper and wiped her eyes, smiling as she did so. “You didn’t pinch this from the toilet did you?”
“No. I didn’t. These are from the kitchen.” He confessed and they both laughed.
“You won’t tell anyone about this. I’m so embarrassed.”
“I won’t tell soul. How else could I share a secret with you.” He was a bit surprised by his own brazenness.
She heard the words and understood very well but gave no sign.
“My father left my mother before I was born. Weeks after she was pregnant actually. She never troubled him for anything. She tried to tell me who he was, you know, introduce us. I don’t know. Would you?” It was a question she wanted no answer for. “I was 12 when she told me and I didn’t want to know.”
“I wish I had the answer.” Daniel said superfluously. “Do you want to know? Someday at least?”
“I haven’t thought about it. What am I crazy, I hardly know you I’m spilling my heart out to you.” She blurted.
“Don’t say that Michelle. I’d like to think we were good enough friends.”
“We are. I didn’t mean that. I mean its not your concern.”
“Whatever is your concern you can make it mine whenever Michelle.” Daniel pushed on.
He wasn’t about to quit now. The lights were low and the hour late. The room was quiet and the only life outside was a light in the bar. He wanted to tell her he loved her but felt it premature and rightly so. He would almost certainly have faced that argument. Too soon. It was the worst kind of rejection in that it lacked finality. The eyes were sending confusing signals best left uninterpreted. A smile broke the deadlock.
“I hope you’ll still talk to me in the morning. I must sound like a lunatic to you.”
“No. Michelle you mean a lot to me.” Though it was a half attempt it was his best.
“I’m not sure I know how to react to that.” She said herself unsure if she liked the boy. God knows she had lovers before, a good three so far. One still waited back home but that was mostly a lost cause. Could she? It was best to do nothing, postpone the issue.
“I’m not asking for anything Michelle. Just telling you. Its been a strange night but its late and I better go before I say anything really destructive.”
“You are not destructive.”
“Well I better go anyway. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
She wondered if he left in fear but she would never know.
The walk home was lonely in parts and warm in parts as he tried to fathom his own feelings. There would be no sleep that night. It would be the Passfield bar till bloody dawn, shooting tequila and shooting pool. When he got back the bar was still not empty. Richard and Colin sat around discussing how best to kick the shit out of a bouncer if the need ever arose. Richard’s solution was novel, he pulled out a couteau papillon and wielded with some dexterity finally sending it flying across the room to come to rest firmly embedded in the wooden pillar of the bar counter.
“You crazy fuck.” Colin exclaimed as Daniel walked in. “Look who’s here.”
“Hi Colin. Up to your usual nocturnal exploits?” Daniel helped himself to Colin’s bottle of cheap scotch.
Richard walked over to retrieve his butterfly knife and mumbled a greeting.
“The boy is intoxicated with the fumes of pain.” Colin intoned. “Come sweet slumber enshroud me in a purple haze, take my soul for play in the script of human comedy. Take my body and fill it with the spirit of ethanol. Take me away beneath the roads of London and into the sewer of humanity.”
“What’s he on about?” Daniel asked Richard who shrugged and poured himself a drink.
“He talks to the paintings on the wall. Only intelligent conversation sometimes. Not tonight though, he’s just had too much.”
“Looks like we’re all going to have too much.” Daniel hypothesized. Richard visually measured the bottle and estimated that that would not be true.
“These walls have ears my friend. Passfield is only good above ground. Below it seethes with a negative energy. Its very invigorating.”
“What do you mean?” Daniel was confused. Perhaps Richard too had had too much to drink.
“You’ve been to the other halls. What are they like? Clean, bright, spacious sometimes. Look at this place. Don’t you hear footsteps in the middle of the night?” Rick swigged his drink.
“No. I’m usually asleep.”
Colin had regained his composure and was sucking on a lady Marlboro.
“Don’t let us scare you. This place isn’t haunted. Its just old as hell.” Colin chuckled at his own remark.
Daniel was settling in to Passfield hall pretty well he thought. He had come to know the rhythms and rituals quite well. The person who ran the Hall was not the warden as one would have normally assumed, nor Stavros the overqualified doorman, but the Indian perpetual student, reader of economics, law, political science and just about any discipline the LSE offered. He was a perpetual 2nd year student, content to keep switching courses without ever completing any one. Vinny’s room was F11 overlooking Endsleigh St. He was the de facto Hall warden in that he had been the student liaison for longer than the warden himself could remember. Passfield had its own council, not just the elected one. The Greek Demos, the American Marvin, the Lebanese Sabsogh, The Russian Karpov, The Brit Coogan, the Malaysian Beng. These were the people who ran Passfield, knew all the inner workings, knew who was seeing who, who was who’s enemy. It was also a men’s club as no woman would be given time of day in that crowd unless she also wanted to give head.
Like most halls there was a Singapore Malaysia table in the dining room where the Asians would congregate for their two hall provided meals. It was on one cold and wet January evening when he invited Mickey over for a standard Passfield substandard dinner. She knew most of the people at the table but had never sampled the culinary prowess of the Passfield cooks. It was quite an experience. Beng was making the usual comments about hall cooking with particular emphasis on Passfield’s fare. A face they saw only about three times a week was Richard. That night the cold had kept him from traveling to Chinatown for an oily tasty Chinese dinner. Instead he sat with the rest of the Singaporeans and Malaysians, sharing a noisy rowdy conversation with the lot.
“You’re not from Passfield.” Richard said to Mickey who sat directly across from him. They had met on numerous occasions but had never been introduced. She knew his name but that was all they knew about each other. She recognized him as the man who got Daniel and herself front row seats at the Old Theatre during the conference some weeks ago.
“She’s from IH.” Kevin volunteered.
“You’re not here for the food that’s for sure.” Richard retorted.
“My name’s Michelle Wong.” Mickey offered her hand.
“Richard Chang.” Richard wiped his hand hastily with some tissue paper before taking her hand. “Sorry for the mess.” He apologized for his greasy hands.
“Richard. We don’t see you around here very much.” Beng shouted from a the other end of the table. “Still keeping those vampire hours.”
“Richard is hardly in the hall. We only see him once in a while.” Kevin explained to Mickey.
“Mr. Chang. What is it you do exactly? You’re listed as staff.” Mickey turned to Richard.
“You’ve been checking. I don’t do very much actually. Some research in maths, the odd lecture, I’m actually a student.” Richard said. “What about you? You’re not from the LSE are you? You don’t have that glazed and vacant look.”
She laughed.
“UCL Mathematics. How come you get to give big speeches in front of all those important people?”
“I work for a group called Sheerluck. It’s a charity. My job there is to make money from money. Then I give it to the other departments to give it away.”
“You’re their trader.”
“No. Not trader. I’m their two bit economist.”
“And you’re still in school.”
“Yes. Reading economics. Makes sense if you think about it.”
“And you teach economics.”
“No. Physics at Imperial sometimes. UCL too. I’m the nomadic type.”
“Richard’s all mixed up.” Beng interjected. “Richard, have you ever been not confused before?”
Richard was laughing to himself. Beng was not his biggest fan but he was one of the seniors at the school and the hall and he was funny at times.
“Hey Daniel. I heard you’re a really smart guy.” Richard ignored Beng turning instead to Daniel who was also laughing.
“What? Me? No lah.” Daniel felt uncomfortable.
“I’m serious. One of your teachers, Pederson, told me you’re a genius at math. He was really impressed and he usually isn’t. I take this guy seriously so when he says you’re smart you must be pretty damn smart.”
“Daniel’s a legend don’t you know.” Beng interrupted from the end of the table. “IQ in excess of 400. He’s famous. It was in the newspaper some years back when we first came here. Daniel Tan of RJC highest score at MENSA. This guy can stare at a repeated game table and find you the Nash. Or solve combinatorial optimizations in a matter of minutes.”
“Don’t worry about him, he’s jealous.” Richard whispered to Daniel who smiled. “But it’s true isn’t it?”
“Some of it.” Daniel said feeling really embarrassed at the attention he was getting.
All in proximity were impressed.
“Bet you read superstring theory in your free time.”
“I’ve heard of it but never had the time to get past QED.”
“I’m impressed. Can you prove Brouwer’s Fixed Point Theorem?”
“Yes but the notation is murder.”
“I’ll take your word for it. Why don’t you do straight maths?”
“I have to think of a career.” Daniel laughed.
“I guess. How about you Michelle, you hyper-intelligent too?” Richard turned to Mickey.
“No. Just a dumb girl who got through on hard work.” She replied. “How long have you been out here.”
“London? Seven years and a bit.”
“You sound it. A bit. Why didn’t you go home?”
“This is home. You’re new here but you’ll find that soon it’ll become home. London’s like that. What’s there in Singapore anyway?”
“Spoken like a true patriot.” Beng added sarcastically. “They should revoke your citizenship.”
“I wish they would. I travel mostly on my British passport anyway.”
“This guy spoke against IMF aid for Asia just when Asian needed it most. That was a couple of years ago. A true patriot.” Beng went on. “What has Singapore done to you Richard? Why the grudge.”
“No grudge Beng. I don’t support Singapore but I’m not against it either. What I said about aid to Asia was a purely academic opinion. I actually like Singapore sometimes.”
“Its no secret how you feel about Singapore, Richard.” Beng pressed on.
“Beng. You’ve had too much to drink.” Richard said to him. “Its my country too, but that doesn’t mean one plus one isn’t two. What I think is silly is a bunch of people going around as self appointed defenders of Singapore’s honour. The worst thing is that this sort of silliness gets interpreted as patriotism and these people end up in the civil service or worse in the executive. And the success of such types propagates this type of thinking. Its dangerous and unproductive.”
“You’ve got a problem you know that. What has the country ever done to you?”
“Beng. You want to saddle up with them you have to be careful because the first mistake you make they’ll be all over you like you were never one of them.”
“A bit paranoid aren’t you?” Mickey said.
“A bit. I just like to rattle Beng’s cage every now and then.” Richard laughed.
Passfield was a strange and strangely evil experience. The bar was painted in black and vermilion and in patterns that seemed at times to depict the demons in hell or a child’s dream of Disney toys. It was very cold in the basement and they all wore their jackets. All except for Richard who had been in Passfield for far too long and was used to the temperatures characteristic of the basement. He bought a round of drinks preferring a coke himself. He sat with Daniel and offered him a cigarette. Daniel declined saying that he didn’t smoke. Richard was surprised when Mickey asked for one. They chatted for a while and then Colin Choo sort of burst into the bar mouthing expletives. Nicole followed after him. He saw Richard and headed over. Richard introduced Daniel and Mickey. Colin’s eyes lit up at the sight of a pretty girl especially one sucking on a Marlboro.
“What’s with you and Nick?” Richard asked.
“Nothing. Crazy bitch made a pass at my girlfriend.” Colin replied. Nick came over smiling.
“It was a joke Colin. For god’s sake. Keep your Mina.” Nick said. She offered him a lit Marly which he took shaking his head.
“You’re fucking nuts Nick. You stay away from her.” Colin warned her. “Fucking lesbian bitch.” Colin said of Nick to Daniel and Mickey. Nick introduced herself to the pair. She seemed friendly enough and Mickey didn’t feel threatened in any way.
“Hey Rick. You been fucking around with my PC again?” Nick turned to Richard.
“No. Why?”
“Someone’s been in my drive or has tried at least.”
“Through the net? Is your machine a server?” Richard asked intrigued. As far as he knew he had the only virus capable of prying its way into a machine without the user even knowing. In fact the latest development was a virus capable of entering the computer via it’s power source. No one but Khan knew.
“My machine is the lousy school rental one. Its networked to the LSE server.”
“Why don’t we go have a look at it now.” Richard suggested.
“I just got here Rick.”
“No problem. We’ll access it from my place.”
“Great. Seems like anybody can access my PC anytime from anywhere. From here? How?” She complained but Richard was already on his way out. Nick had to run after him.
“That’s a really strange girl.” Daniel commented and was immediately rebuked by Mickey for being a chauvinist. Colin just smiled through the swirling smoke and winked at the figures on the wall.
G2. In front of a lit up PC. Richard was breaking and entering the LSE net and accessing Nick’s PC remotely from his own.
“I didn’t even turn it on, how the hell did you.”
“There’s a way to power up bypassing the on off switch. Its what keeps the temporary history current. Nick, could you light me one?”
She obliged and brought the cigarette to his lips. He chomped on it and sucked and was surprised when Nick stuck her finger in his mouth. He gave it a good licking before she pulled it out.
“You are such a bitch Nick.” He complained blowing smoke her way. “This is your c-drive and a log of when it was accessed.”
Nick took a while to understand the display. She saw a couple of entries that didn’t look right.
“Rick. Can you get the log further back?”
“How long?”
“Earliest entry this academic year?”
“I’ll get on it. What do you see?”
“I see a couple of weird access times. Last weekend for example, I was in Oxford.”
“By the way Nick, how did you know someone was looking in your hard drive?”
“Last modified. Real sloppy hacker.”
“I can see how he got in. You have an on line email service.”
“Shit. Who’s looking at me then?”
“It’s a BLPES terminal. Saturday 3 p.m. I’ll get a log of all LSE staff and students in the BLPES at the time. Whoever it was would have signed in as a guest. So we take those that logged in under their own names to a lower priority list and look at the first list.”
“Rick. How are you able to access my PC?”
“It’s a secret. I have a virus resident on the www. Actually I have several. They sit there, collect interesting info, pretty much autonomous.”
“That’s incredible. So who was looking at my drive?”
“Can’t tell right now. I’ll try to find out but it will take a couple of hours. How about a drink?”
“What have you got?”
Richard went to his wine cooler and produced a bottle of Bordeaux.
“Are you trying to get me drunk? I wouldn’t if I were you because I can drink a bit.” Nick warned.
“Not trying to get you drunk. Just want a drink with a friend.” Richard fished out a Swiss Army Knife and flicked open the corkscrew. “Besides, why would you warn me if you could hold your liquor.”
Nick went to get the glasses which were by the window next to the sink. She came back in time for Rick to pour the wine.
“Rick. Do you think I’m nuts?”
“What do you mean?” He asked pouring the deep red liquid into her glass.
“You know.” She sat back on the table next to the PC and sipped the wine.
“I think you’re fine. Is it good?”
“It’s good. Rick, why are you still alone? You’re not gay are you?”
“As far as I can remember. No one wants a mad hacker.”
They sat and drank and smoked till midnight and beyond.
“OK Rick. Got to go.” Nick said and headed for the door.
“Its two thirty, why don’t you stay?” Richard offered. She gave him a look.
“Stay? Here? Are you trying to seduce me Richard?”
“Share the bed?” Rick pressed.
She came back towards him and gave him a strange look.
“Why not?” Nick sat on his bed, kicked off her shoes and stripped off her cardigan.
“Do you always sleep in your jeans?” She asked and was greeted with a confused look. “Well come on.”
Rick climbed under the sheets and pulled them down to accommodate her. She smiled a tired worn out smile and climbed in. Face to face in bed for the first time both felt a bit strange, not least because one was straight and the other gay.
“Aren’t you going to get the light?” She asked. He rolled away and hit a switch plunging them into darkness. They lay face to face up close but did not touch each other listening to each other’s breathing which grew louder and louder. Slowly she put her arms around him and felt him flinch. Perhaps he was gay she thought though she strongly doubted it.
“Its cold.” She explained and he responded to her embrace by pulling her close and cradling her head in his chest.
“Sleep.” He commanded softly.
Daniel did not sleep. He walked Mickey back to IH at three in the morning and found that he was beginning to like the girl more and more. The walk back was a bit more lonely. When he returned to the hall he didn’t go up to his room but headed back down to the bar again where Colin was still shooting pool on the horribly warped table with the horribly twisted cues. Daniel threw his coat into a chair and went to join Colin and a group of other Passfield vampires. Colin had just flubbed a shot and decided to toss the cue half way across the bar.
“Daniel. How’s the girlfriend.” He said mockingly lighting himself a Marlboro. He walked over to the bar counter and poured himself a coke. Daniel sat in the dirty grimy sofa wondering what the hell he was doing up at 4 in the morning. It would become an infectious habit. Colin returned with a glass for Daniel.
“How do you like Passfield?” He asked taking a seat next to Daniel.
“Its alright.”
“Alright? It’s the finest place in London. Just don’t bring your girlfriend here too often, good girls don’t like Passfield boys.”
“She’s not my girlfriend.”
“But you’d like right?” He offered Daniel a cigarette which Daniel declined. Colin did not retract the cigarette and so Daniel took it anyway. Colin lit it for him and smiled in anticipation. He was not disappointed as Colin dragged heavily on the cigarette and ended up coughing his guts all over his own jeans. Colin laughed loudly and was rebuked by Demos the Greek guy who had played Colin earlier.
“Colin, stop screwing around with the boy.”
“Ah shut up. The boy can take it.”
Daniel managed to stifle the coughing and gagging and look relatively cool and was rewarded with a look of approval from the chaps .
Dawn broke without any of them noticing as they were in the basement. Daniel walked out into the cold morning air and was surprised that the sky had lightened though not significantly. He felt grimy and damp and found also that the cold was not as bad as the hour should have implied.
The days that followed were dreary ones for Daniel. The first year courses were unbearably boring and easy and provided little challenge and he began to stray to the other colleges in search of more interesting material.
Christmas was around the corner and it would prove to be an eventful one. The Singaporean and Malaysian community in the Hall had organised a Christmas party in the basement of he Hall and most of the community from the other halls would be present as well. All the guys were trying to line up dates and likewise the girls were trying to find escorts. It was a big social event and strangely so considering so few of them were actually Christians. It was also thus at home where Christianity was a minority religion and it was a strange social phenomenon. Getting a date and not just any date was of prime importance during this time. It was a trying time for the socially less adept.
Mickey was hard at work with her game theoretic model when Kevin called upon her to ask her to the Christmas party. He stayed a while asking about her holiday and noting that she had not gone back to Singapore. He also took an interest in her work. They were after all both studying game theory albeit in different colleges of the University. Actually they were more likely to become rivals as in the South East Asian community everyone was a rival.
Kevin took a peek at her work on equilibria in finite games and was quite impressed. He was impressed because he couldn’t quite understand it. He was used to going through the weekly exercises set by the teacher but in this case she was investigating the properties necessary for the strategic functionals that would guarantee existence and subsequently stability of the equilibrium. It was not easy work and it was not standard or required work.
“Very interesting.” he managed weakly. Mickey knew he had problems.
“I’m checking for necessary conditions on the functionals for the existence of a fixed point. So far its been easy but for a few topological conditions.” She knew someone who could help but she didn’t feel like talking to him at the moment.
“We don’t have to know this right?” Kevin was a little bit worried as well as envious that he was outclassed in the rigor department.
“No but when standard methods fail, this is how we get around it. Back to first principles.”
“Would you like to come to the Christmas party with me?” Kevin asked hopefully. He had heard on the grapevine that Mickey might be available for the party.
“Its just downstairs from here. I don’t know if I’ll even bother going though I might just drop in.”
“I see. Well why don’t I drop in to see if you want to go on the night?” She agreed.
“Actually all right, I will go. I’ll need to find a dress though.” Her wardrobe consisted primarily of jeans and T-shirts. Kevin was quite happy to hear that.
A little while after Kevin had left Mickey’s phone rang. It was Rick.
“Hi Mickey, I haven’t heard from you in two days, what ’s up?”
“Nothing much, just catching up on my work.” She was pleased that he called and yet she did not want to speak to him very much. There was something about him that chilled her, something cold about him that always made him seem aloof even when he was so friendly and helpful. It seemed that only Colin was totally at ease with him.
“A bit early to start work isn’t it?” Richard commented.
“Maybe. I’m doing a little extra on the theoretical foundations to what we did last term in game theory.” She knew very well she was inviting further discussion.
“By the way are you going to the Christmas ball?” she asked.
“No. Can’t stand such things. I’ll probably take a drive to the coast, Margate or someplace. Would you like to come?”
“No. I’m going to the ball with Kevin.”
“That’s good. Well tell me if you need any help with the topology part OK?”
He rang off.
Rick drove to the Chelsea House to switch cars and check on his portfolios. He parked the Volvo and went in the back way. There was the Vengeance, the Shooting Brake, the Vignale, the Turbo R and DB7 to choose from. He opted in the end for the Range Rover 4.6 HSE in view of the snow. The house was empty but for the caretaker, everything was as he had left it. He sat in the study checking his portfolios most of which were under the professional management of Sheerluck Asset Management. The room was so silent he could hear the hum of the chips in the PC. His cellular lit up. It was Colin.
“Rick. Dinner tonight?”
“Done. Usual place? Meet you there.”
As Rick opened the door to the China Kitchen he saw Colin at their usual table with a Chinese girl.
“Hi Rick. This is Alexis.” Colin introduced them. She smiled coyly as they shook hands.
Rick took his seat and they ordered.
“Alexis is from UCL, first year Law.”
“Singaporean?”
“Yes. You are at LSE?”
“Yes. Do I look absolutely grey?”
“Red.” They laughed.
Dinner was a cheerful affair. As was usual they decided to adjourn to a café nearby.
So this was Rick. He didn’t look like a bad person but what did she know about him having only known him for half an hour. He was pretty quiet though and left all the talking to Colin. She had read that Rick was a computer expert, whatever that was, and a competent mathematician. He was also supposed to be a possible Marxist sympathiser. Unlikely by the stories Colin had told her about the Aston Martins and Bentleys. He didn’t look too extravagant though, dressed in a weathered moleskin three quarter coat and jeans. Whatever, the scholarship had it’s price.
At midnight Colin excused himself and left Alexis and Rick to talk. Actually he was a bit worried Rick was just going to sit there and not say anything.
“How did you know Colin?” Rick asked.
“I am a friend of Mina. Anyway she’s gone to Kent for a seminar otherwise she’d have joined us. How about you?”
“Can’t recall really. Just met up somewhere in school I guess. It’s your first year here which means you’ve been here three months. How do you like it?”
“I like it. It’s a bit too cold now but it’s a nice change from back home. And the people here are very different as well. It’s actually OK to talk to strangers on the bus or in the train, we just don’t do that at home.”
“I know what you mean. It’s a different world out here. A lot less stress and a lot more friendly and easy.”
“I’ve heard some things about you Rick.” Break the ice, build rapport, establish trust. Not all things nice.
“I deny everything.” He joked. It was working. Beauty was an asset.
“No. Not bad things. I heard you’re a genius.” Too ham handed. “You wrote a paper on mathematics in your first year?”
“It was a simple paper. Did you here any complaints?”
“Some.” She looked him in the eye.
“You don’t think much of yourself do you?” She said slyly.
“Of course I do. Why do you say that?” Rick was defensive.
“The things you say. Yes, I have heard some not so nice things but I’m sure they all not true.”
“How are you so sure?”
“They say you’re not sociable and stuck up and things like that but take today for instance; you were so quiet when Colin was around but now you’re talking. Maybe you’re just a quiet person who prefers to talk one on one. Its more personal that way. Maybe that’s how you like it.”
“Can I quote you on that?” What a pleasant girl he thought. And perceptive too.
“It’s twelve thirty in the morning. I think we’d better go.”
“I’ll give you a ride.”
It was a short walk in the cold to the car which was parked in the underground car park. It was snowing lightly and the ground had come to be covered in a layer of white snow. Parking came to cost him almost ten pounds.
“Nice jeep.” Alexis commented when they got to the car.
“It’s not a Jeep. Jeep is actually a brand name and not generic. In fact it’s a unit of Chrysler.”
“What’s this then?”
“It’s a Range Rover. British.”
Outside Canterbury Hall Rick helped Alexis out of the rather tall Range. She thanked him for the ride and surprised him by asking if he wanted to visit the Portobello Market on Saturday which was the next day.
“Portobello? Sure. It’s mid winter but sure. Most of the shops should still be open it being a tourist spot and all.” He replied.
“1230?” She inquired. He nodded.
“I’ll meet you here.”
The Malaysia-Singapore Society. This was a social club that existed in most universities across the world. The LSE MSS was an active social club which frequently organised inter varsity games, parties and dances. Very useful stuff indeed. There came a point when the need for a more useful vehicle led to the creation of a new club registered with the LSE registry of societies. While the activities of the two clubs would not overlap, as was a condition for the setting up of a new club. This was a problem for the MSS as it would pull away some membership and attendance. Most of all, it would dilute the prestige of the MSS as the one and only club representing South East Asia. The circumstances of the rival club’s creation were political to say the least. It’s principal proponent was Colin Choo and a band of first year students. The new club would be called the South East Asia Club and its activities would be mostly focused on putting students and academia in touch with industry and business. It was natural that job placement became an important part of the equation. After numerous negotiations between the pro forma council of the SEAC and the MSS the MSS president Paula Chan was unable to convince them to form as an appendix of the MSS and the SEAC was set up as a bona fide club of the LSE. It was a time of strained relations among the South East Asian community as people lined up on both sides against each other, a pointless wasteful exercise.
Paula Chan had legitimate cause for worry. The MSS had allowed SEAC to be set up during her presidency, a fact that would not stand out on a résumé. Her sponsors at the Economic Development Board of Singapore were not like the usual sponsor and such news would inevitably reach their ears and meet with silent disapproval. She had to think fast but realised that damage control would be difficult given that she’d thrown her whole weight and the weight of the MSS behind stopping SEAC and come up empty.
Colin Choo had a good laugh. A Malaysian, he had no particular love for the MSS and its Singaporean stronghold on the council. While the presidency and the council had always had a fair share of Malaysians as well as Singaporeans one thing was apparent, that control always lay in the hands of a pro Singapore regime. Even Paula who was a Malaysian was an EDB scholar and in many ways as loyal to her sponsors as much as to her country. Then there was Yu Beng. He was a slippery one who bent with the wind and the prevailing wind came from the SEAC. The moment SEAC was properly created Colin went directly to K04, which was Richard’s office at the LSE. It was one of the few offices where the no smoking law was blatantly and gleefully flouted.
“Rick. It’s done. SEAC has been set up. We got them fucked now.” Colin said in between puffs of smoke. Richard just gave him a bland look.
“Nice work Colin. You just pissed of a shit load of people. Why on earth did you bother? The MSS could have included those services.”
“Yes. But when? The only way to do anything is to do it yourself. Besides I always wanted to stick it up to those Singaporeans.”
“I’m Singaporean thanks.” Richard retorted pointedly.
“Yeah, but you don’t count.”
“I hope you realise what you’ve done. You do don’t you?” Richard put away his reading and turned around.
“The MSS is sacred, it gets grants from our two countries. That says something doesn’t it? You just gave a lot of people heart attacks. Take Paula. Or anyone on the council. They just screwed up the MSS during their term. Its not going to look good on a résumé at all.”
“You bet they’re sweating. Paula wants to meet with me tonight. Passfield at 9. Why don’t you come along?”
“I don’t want to interrupt your tender moments.” Richard said returning to his reading.
“Fuck off. Those MSS idiots are sitting on their arses doing fuckall while important South East Asian politicians and businessmen pass through London without being invited to speak or meet with the members. We want to set up a network for future employment. Do something useful instead.”
Chan Boon Yang heard the distressing news on Sunday at church. Edward Chui a student at King’s broke the news to him at lunch after the morning service. It seemed that similar plans for an SEAC in every university across the UK were being made and the effort was gaining momentum. More and more students were interested in meeting businessmen and politicians who were passing through than getting sweaty in a loud and frenzied party. It was on hindsight a beautiful idea. For years the MSS had overlooked this avenue preferring to concentrate on having fun instead. The only political forums usually involved the same politicians and the odd opposition outlaw.
Easter was a crazy time for students and teachers alike. Usually the course timetables indicated that all teaching should be completed by the end of Lent and that Easter was to be reserved for consultation and extra-syllabus excursions. That was a mostly myth because in reality nothing could be finished by the end of Lent and courses usually spilled into the Easter holiday if students were so inclined or Summer term if they were not. Mostly Michaelmas was a time of adjustment and settling in to a course especially for the first year students. The real meat of the course usually came in the Lent term which was the busiest and also the most interesting. Easter break was no break at all. It was a time for the more conscientious to begin their preparations ahead of their teachers and colleagues for the Summer term and the run up to the examinations. In general the Asians because of the higher fees and traditionally object oriented pre university education were more inclined to begin their preparations earlier. It was no guarantee of result. During the Easter break, Passfield or indeed any Hall would be a hive of activity especially after hours when groups of students would congregate either in rooms or clusters in the dining room to read. The bar was reserved for the potential repeaters or the geniuses for whom preparation was a week long affair at the most. Daniel had breezed through his courses with such ease that the sudden disappearance of company for recreation stunned him. Suddenly he was alone, and he had the Asian habit of hanging with the other Asians, as the others took to their books. He was left with the seniors and then only those who were either too intelligent or thought they were too intelligent or the utterly debauched who didn’t give a damn. Slowly as Daniel whiled away the days doing nothing more than eating sleeping and attempting to shoot pool, time caught up and there lay between him and the exams a little over a month. Still he frequented the bar with the likes of Colin Choo and Richard Chang.
It was one of those warm late Spring nights at the Passfield bar and Daniel sat sipping a coke with Richard as Colin attempted to pot black with a cue that had just a couple of weeks ago been split by a particularly enthusiastic player but which fortunately had been tied back together with some poor sod’s shoelaces.
“Think he’ll make the shot?” Richard asked as Colin lined up the shot.
“Yes but not in the pocket he intends. Has he ever won without extraordinary luck?”
“Extraordinary luck is something we can live with but not rely on. How’s work.”
“Work’s OK.” Daniel did not like to be reminded of work. In the early part of the year he loved his work able student that he was. He was still as able if not more but something troubled him. He had not yet begun his preparation for the exams and he had not faced one for four years now. It was an understandable concern.
“You plan on studying at all this year?” Richard prodded. He could see real genius in the young man and he could read his current state of mind as well. “Think you’ll do all right?”
“I don’t know. I don’t know if I can pass.” Daniel replied. It was not lack of faith in his own ability but a sense that time had slipped hopelessly by in the timeless crevices of Passfield’s bowels.
“You know that’s not true Daniel. In all probability you’ll pass easily so don’t tell me that you can’t. You’re just fooling yourself with an underestimation you know you exceed and when you do you think it will ease your mind but it won’t. Your pass mark is high, higher than the rest. If you miss it you’ll make whatever excuses you can but you’ll know. There’s a month and a half to the exams, ample time for you. If you really want to make something of this overextended holiday I suggest you leave Passfield at once. Now.”
Daniel was trying to make sense of Richard’s comments and quickly realized that what he said was true. Richard could see the realization in Daniel’s face as well.
“I have a spare room at Sheerluck Hall at Russell Square. Its empty, no one uses it. There is a PC all networked just like here. Why don’t you go here, hole up till the exams. Pack tonight, I’ll help you move. You don’t come back here until after the exams.”
Daniel was at a loss for words. He could see sense in the proposal but he couldn’t understand why Richard would want to help, or how he came to have a spare room in one of the most prestigious halls in London. It was a tempting offer and he was not about to turn it down.
The room was rather too well furnished and equipped to be a true hall room and Daniel found it quite comfortable. The absence of distraction was a very real help and the student decided that he would turn his attention to his work with an energy which in another place would have drained him. It was a different world and for those several weeks the student forgot the former Eden from where he had been banished. The barriers were of his own design and of Richard’s advice and he did well to hold himself from temptation. The examinations came and went with the same inescapable inevitability that torment does. The first test in four long long years was faced with much courage and passed well.
Returning to Passfield was an ordeal in itself. The room was cold with disuse and smelled of age. The creaky stairs and winding corridors seemed new as when he first walked them but they soon welcomed him back into their cold embrace and Daniel knew where his memories of London would lie forever, entrenched in those cold draughty corridors, down in that infernal bar. The night of his return he waited impatiently for the brood to appear and they did not disappoint, old friends, filing in past ten, swelling slowly but surely until the basement throbbed with a lethargic life that gave life to the walls and fire to the colour.
Richard saw the boy waiting and decided not to go over. He would wait for Colin the Conqueror. The boy saw Richard, however, and came over.
“Richard. I left the keys at the reception just like you wanted. Thanks.” It was the voice of a conspirator that spoke.
“How did it go?”
“I think it’ll be OK.” There was a confidence that was lacking before and a humility that tempered the confidence.
“Good. Congratulations on your first year. Most people take a much less interesting route and achieve less. That was some excursion you took.” Richard said to the boy.
The heat. That incredible sweltering burning heat that charred the land. Daniel felt it at once he got off the plane and it irritated him already. This was how it felt everyday in the army. A heat that sapped the strength from one’s body, that dulled the senses and burned the skin. The heavy baggage didn’t help nor the long queue for a cab. The ride along the East Coast highway was a strange one seen from the eyes of a stranger. Not much had changed visually but he could discern a change of air. Perhaps it was the abnormal temperature or the brighter than usual light of the sun burning a coppery hue in the road ahead. The sea was calm as usual and blue from where he could sea it. He knew that closer to the shore it was a dirty ochre. It had been 9 months since he had seen home and already home was losing its homeliness. This island that had kept him over two decades seemed strangely unwelcoming as if he were a prodigal. But he could not have been. He had done a service to his country and was returning as a patriot. Was the colder clime that seductive that it lured his heart from this. The next half hour revealed that the road had changed much in the past 9 months. For one it had grown a full two lanes. One thing he was certain about was that nothing had changed despite the changing landscape, the people on the roads would be the same malcontents cursing their way to paradise and the chance to make a decent living. Two and a half million little people squirming in a pit, squirming to scale the rim and climb to rest. The others would be trod asunder in a circle of economic struggle. He thought of Mickey and for a moment the weight was lifted from his heart. He supposed it was love and then he was ashamed. It was that once at the British Library of Political and Economic Science, BLPES. It was the first in a life of betrayal or at least what he regarded as betrayal so harsh was he on his own poor weak conscience. It was the most innocent thing that was asked of him. He was asked to list five students whom he thought were outstanding in terms of academic performance and to list all the courses they were taking. The instructions were given over email and the results returned via email. It was nothing to him, just a few minutes work on the LSE network. The information was public, he told himself, well almost public. Anyone with an LSE account could access it. It felt wrong somehow but he did it. And then he buried the tracks.
The flat looked different, it had been repainted as part of some Housing Upgrading Plan that had been initiated just before an election, Daniel noted. Very convenient. The cab stopped abruptly on his command and he paid the cabby and got out. The bags were a bloody nuisance and it was 8 floors up. Daniel lugged the two heavy bags up to the lift and hit the button. On 8 he walked up to that old familiar door and rang the bell. His mother answered the door and welcomed him in with open arms and warm heartfelt tears. Daniel had not told anyone the exact time of his return wishing to trouble no one. Though never very close to his parents he felt comfortable in her embrace.
“Where’s Dad?” Daniel asked.
“Working at the shop. He opened another one. Things are getting better. Even with this slowdown.”
She bundled him off to his room to unpack and shower and then proceeded to call all the relatives together. It was a big thing to them but to Daniel the homecoming had been rather flat. He sat in his room and did not unpack. It was just as he had left it 9 months ago and yet it seemed empty. It was like entering his brother’s room if he had a brother, someone else’s room, familiar and yet not quite his own.
Daniel went through dinner as if he were in a trance, apparently the jet lag was getting to him. It was after dinner that he finally collected his thoughts. He decided he had to call an old friend, Raymond. It was a desperate attempt to get a grip on the world he’d left behind.
“Raymond.” He said tentatively recognizing the voice.
“Daniel. You’re back? When did you come back?”
“Just this afternoon. How have you been?” Daniel was a bit embarrassed at not having called or written to Raymond the entire time he had been away. It was a characteristic of the male of the species.
They met at one of their old haunts near the camp where they had been stationed for over a year. Daniel sat waiting at a table out on the roadside. He was looking out for the Mercedes when instead a Hyundai pulled up and Raymond got out. They greeted each other with expletives as only old friends could and for a while it seemed like those hot and hazy days again except that they did not have to go back to the camp when they were done.
“What happened to the Mercedes?” Daniel asked quite tactlessly but then such close friends were allowed such liberties.
“We sold it. This economic slowdown has been fucking bad. We sold all five Mercedes. This is my dad’s car.” There was an awkward silence as Daniel searched for the right words. Tact was for lesser friends.
“I thought the economy was going to get better after the first crash. Remember that June?”
“Yes. It didn’t get better. Our friends from the platoon, they’re mostly out of jobs. Ah Lim closed his shop. He’s selling telephone services now.”
“What are your plans? You working now or what?”
“I’m working at my dad’s company. Business is still OK but we lost a lot of money in property. Remember when you left and things were so bad? I thought can still buy. How do I know it would drop another 50%.”
“Has it?”
“Hey, don’t you study economics?”
“Yes but only the theory of it. I don’t know what’s happening in this part of the world. The UK and Europe are doing terrible too. I just thought we might be recovering after that horrible year.”
“No way man. This is so bad people are selling their Rolexes and Mercedes. Like me.”
Daniel was silent. He did not know what t say. Here was a man who had no idea how economics worked, who had no formal training in economics but he was involved in the economy. All his learning and training did not help Daniel understand what was happening in the real economy, everything was seen through articles in the Financial Times or the London Times. He realised that he didn’t even know how Europe or the UK worked. Not really.
“How have you been? Is London nice?” Raymond asked feeling a little more relaxed now.
“It’s a beautiful place. You know its funny, we’ve never traveled far. You have the money but I don’t but we never did get past Malaysia or Thailand. There’s a very big world we have never seen.”
“Girlfriend?”
“No. but there’s this girl.”
“Anything serious?”
“No. She’s quite good looking but the best thing is that she’s very. I don’t know.” Again the words escaped him.
“You like her already.” Raymond laughed mockingly.
“No. Raymond, there’s a queue OK.”
“OK. But you like her right.”
“She’s very involved in everything. Amnesty International, local politics, she does Aikido, sits on our Malaysia Singapore Society council, she’s just very.”
“You find her strength sexy right?”
“She’s just a friend.”
“That’s how it always starts.”
“Hey Raymond. What about your plans to go to the US?”
“No money man. I guess it will have to wait. I don’t know how long. At least we don’t owe any money, most people are under water.”
Things fell apart in October. Glory plc filed for bankruptcy unexpectedly. Several investments made by the Indonesian directors had gone horribly wrong. Gambling operations in Europe and Africa turned out to have been empty companies bought with good money. Books were inconsistent indicating duplicity on the part of two Indonesian directors and very quickly arrest orders were issued. They managed to arrest the two men as they tried to escape into Malaysia hidden in lorries. The damage done was considerable and the company could not be saved. Very quickly all directors were told not to leave the country and the company was suspended pending an investigation. A liquidator was appointed by the state. The news of the fall took the stock markets of both Singapore and Malaysia by storm depressing the markets for weeks. Malaysia was also affected as Glory had many businesses in Malaysia including holdings in two listed companies.
William Kong’s involvement in the impropriety was unclear but naturally suspicion was high and the press began to dig into his colorful past. It was the first time any such exposé was attempted on a connected man. Perhaps his connexions were not strong or deep enough. In any case the papers were calling him everything from a smuggler to a bookie. The truth was that he was all of the above but had always had the political connections to ensure that the rumours remained nothing but rumours and never escalated to a formal inquiry. The irony of the situation was that William was entirely not involved in the deals that led to the demise of Glory. His fault was that as CEO he had been blissfully unaware of the representations made by his fellow directors. Had the economy continued the meteoric performance of he early 90’s the problems might never have surfaced but the poor economic environment had forced the issue and brought things to a head. Two weeks into the inquiry William was cleared of all charges and had his passport returned. His personal financial problems, however, were far from over. The one thing he had going for him he thought was the continued support of his connexions whom he knew would keep Chartered Hong operational and profitable. If he could weather that lean period he was certain that Chartered would pull the company through. Unfortunately the noises made by the opposition party which apparently knew exactly what they were doing prompted further probing of the legality of the operations of Glory. Someone was obviously advising them and raising all the right questions digging deeper and rendering a cover up inoperable. It was a great strategy and the anger of the ruling party could be seen in their controlled statements and sweaty foreheads in TV interviews. Above all it was an election year and any impropriety was going to be punished to hell. Sacrifices would have to be made.
2nd Deputy PM David Quah’s office. The 2dpm had two visitors from the public prosecutors office.
“Mr. Pereira. Regarding Glory. What do you have on Mr. Kong?”
Mr. Kong is clean. Its Mr. Ng and Mr. Liem. We pretty much have them for fraud, CBT and conspiracy charges. It will be quite clear cut.” Pereira answered respectfully. David Quah was not one to be trifled with. He was one of the less liked and less visible or vocal ministers in the cabinet but a competent politician all the same. All these years he preferred to play from the back court keeping a low profile.
“The legal issue is quite simple and we should get a conviction nice and clean. The commercial side is less transparent.” The second man said. “Can we speak in private?”
“Alright Pereira, that’s all for now.” David Quah dismissed the prosecutor.
“What complications do we face?” David asked.
“Its out in the papers. There’s no way out, we have to close the whole thing down, auction off the bits.”
“Do we have a hanging judge? How about Sanjay?”
“Later. Sir. Do we want to really get the message across?”
“More. Aside from that Chartered Hong is a good company with connections to our government. I think we should retain it.”
“Is that wise? The news is getting quite close to us. Maybe we better consult with the PM?”
“No need. This is a commercial decision not a political one. Use Fieldstone.”
“Sir. We have an election in 3 months. What if something happens.”
“Mister. This is a legal, commercial transaction, unless of course you’re not telling me everything. Are you?”
The man kept silent. He had already overextended himself here.
The developments were swift and ruthless leaving little time for careful consideration. The two errant directors of Glory were charged with conspiracy to cheat and were detained awaiting trial, William Kong was given a reprimand and asked to step down as director of Glory and any other companies he may have been a director of. The company was then placed under a receiver who would partition the company and put the components up for sale. Chartered Hong Pte Ltd. Was bought by a little known local advertising company called Fieldstone Realty. It was the last time the company name Chartered Hong would figure in the news media.
The most unexpected announcement pre election was the defection of Lee Soon Lee, MP for Hougang which was an important district of Singapore, former grassroots leader and loyal party man. He was the last man anyone would have expected to break away from the party but break away he did. Rumours were abound as to the nature and reason for his defection. The newspapers did their usual rounds of pumping up public suspicions as to the integrity of the man, an action so blatant that it was questionable if it even served the purposes of the ruling party. It was more probably some lackey at the newspaper trying to break into the big league tripping over his own shoes.
Mickey was quite the political activist, something her mother frowned upon. In Daniel she found a willing companion at political rallies held by both ruling party and opposition. She was passionate in her belief in free speech, in freedom of expression and the limiting of the governments almost absolute power. Daniel was less passionate about the politics than about the company he was keeping.
The Saturday rally by the Worker’s Action Party was of particular interest. Mickey scanned the newspaper in search of more information regarding that gathering. One of the principal speakers was SL Lee, the ex ruling party Minister for Defence. She knew she had to attend. The venue was published in a little corner of the page and specified an obscure little place, a piece of clear land in the Northern area far from the convenience of car parks and toilets. It was a deliberate act, forcing the opposition into as great a disadvantage as possible. It was so typical of an Asian government, Mickey thought. She called Daniel to see if he wanted to attend and he replied quickly that he would.
Daniel wondered if perhaps his attendance at such opposition rallies was wise given the identity of his sponsors. Was he right in working for them in order to finance his education, or was it right to go with Mickey like a Judas into the fold, mingle with the enemy? Who was the enemy? Daniel sat alone in the dark as night fell over the land. In the past year he had grown quite attached to Mickey, even if she wasn’t as attached to him. That she was pretty as well as bright also helped. Unfortunately it also meant a great deal of competition. Daniel had the honour of being closest to her and a confidante but the wolves were always at the door. His problem was not, however, with competition, but rather Mickey’s indifference to all her admirers. Now that they were back in Singapore he saw a chance to get closer and his position was getting stronger. Whenever she wanted to attend a lecture at the NUS or a political rally by either ruling party or opposition she would call on him as escort. One thing was evident, she never expressed political opinions in front of anyone except him. It made him feel special in a way only a foolish apprentice in the arts of romance could feel, privileged for some petty privilege.
The outcome was never in doubt. The ruling party won the elections with an overwhelming majority. Party cadres stepped out in force to declare their victory in the streets and in the media. They congratulated the people on a wise decision but noted that the percentage of votes had fallen yet again and said that they would do whatever they could to correct this. Anywhere else in the world and that remark would have been a lot less frightening. The PM gave an early morning interview which would later be televised through the day.
“Citizens of Singapore. Thank you once again for your support and this opportunity to lead our country into the new millenium. Our success in this election is due not to us but to you, everyone of you who voted for us. For those who voted against us we can only say that we will work harder to win your vote next time. We will prove you wrong and we will change your mind.”
They had lost just two seats but it was a thorn in the side of the government. In fact the result was an improvement over the last General Election which saw as many as four opposition members in Parliament. The average number of votes as a percentage of total votes cast fell however. David Quah was not at a polling station unlike his colleagues. He was quite confident of his chances as he usually kept a very low profile in the media but kept in very close touch with his grassroots leaders in his constituency. He wondered what his Prime Minister was thinking as he spoke. It was expected that an unprepared speech would be more emotional and less rational. So far so good, thought David of the events of the past month. He had managed to contain the fallout from the Glory collapse, get a couple of Indonesians locked up in Indonesia with the blessing of the government who used the issue to show the impartiality of the law in dealing with the two lackeys, put a lid on the press and even get a few brownie points with the electorate for punishing the profiteers. His PM was more than pleased and had more or less hinted that the post of First Deputy Prime Minister might be available.
“The housing upgrading schemes.” The PM continued on TV. “will continue and will be extended to all areas opposition controlled or not. We will show that we are gracious in defeat but we will also show that politics will not be allowed to get in the way of government.”
David’s telephone rang and he answered it.
“David. Congratulations. Nice work.” The voice intoned in a thick English public school accent.
“Thank you Tan Sri. I do my best.”
“You have done very well. By the way David, thanks about Arjuna. He sometimes gets in over his head.”
“No thanks needed my friend. Always here to help. I have sent him back to KL. I think it is good if he does not come back here for a few months. Just until things settle down. There’s usually some turbulence after an election as we clean house.”
“I will make sure Arjuna does not become a nuisance. David, what kind of turbulence do you foresee?”
“The usual, some silly remarks that have to be corrected both in the press and in the courts.”
“I understand you have someone go over to the other side.”
“Lee Soon Lee. Yes. He was very senior. He will be punished for his treachery to the full.”
“I see. No amnesty for an old guard?”
“None. Its not my decision. This is directly from the PM’s office.”
“What if he’s clean?” Abdullah liked to prod his Singaporean friend.
“Nobody’s clean. If he’s really clean he’ll be paid off. What’s it to you anyway?”
“Nothing. Just amused. The PM’s own friend turns on him. I wonder why he did it.”
“Lee was en route to be Deputy PM until an indiscretion put the post not the man at risk. It was his own mistake. The PM had to side line him.”
“Minister without portfolio. A place holder unless it runs for over a year. I sympathize with him.”
The events emerging in South East Asia did not bother Richard and Colin in the least. They had decided not to return to their homes in Malaysia and Singapore for the Summer but preferred to visit Paris instead. It was strange but Colin actually preferred travelling without his girlfriends. He liked to either go it alone or with a friend.
They had decided to leave London on a whim and did so within a day of the decision. A quick call to reserve the flight and hotel room, an afternoon to put everything on automatic and a quick ride to Heathrow. They arrived in CDG Paris at almost midnight on a Friday. Fortunately the hotel limo, a late 80’s Phantom VI was on hand to get them into the city to the Place Vendome. It was a typically quick ride with the French drivers and traffic was as chaotic as it had always been. The stretch of road by the Quai du Louvre was quite scenic even in the dead of night as the Phantom carried them to the Ritz.
Morning. The suite was large and featured a dining area and a large desk with a PC and the appointments of a well equipped office. Richard had risen early and was reading the major news sites on the Internet. It was Colin’s first time in a hotel room this extravagant and he spent the better part of dawn having a big breakfast which he had delivered up to the room.
After a shower Richard emerged from the bathroom dressed his jeans.
“Hurry up. I’m hungry.” Richard said as Colin put on his shoes.
“You should have had some breakfast Rick. The eggs and bacon were delicious. How long are we planning to stay anyway?”
“Don’t know. Until we get bored. I’m meeting with a couple of antique dealers this afternoon on the Faubourg Rue St. Honoré. How about a couple of suits?”
“Yes.” Colin was the dandy and was always dressed in the finest. The shoes he put on were Cleverley’s, the jeans Levi’s but the jacket was a Henry Poole. He wore a gold Daytona Cosmograph and was almost always immaculately turned out. Richard was the more pragmatic dresser preferring comfort to the point that he often attended formal business meetings in his usual jeans and a cashmere jacket. On holiday he was positively scruffy looking. That the monosodium glutamate chinese diet he favoured had taken its toll on his hair count did not help very much. The two men headed down to the lobby and past it to emerge in a cool and bright Summer’s day, cool for it was early Summer. The tower loomed high in the Place Vendome casting a long shadow in evidence of the hour and neither man had plan nor purpose.
“I’d forgotten how much I like this city.” Richard said in the morning air. “I hope you’re not the museum type, I’m off for a bite.”
“No fucking museums thanks.” Colin agreed as they headed up north towards the St. Honoré. Richard knew he would have to sit through his friend’s shopping sprees and decided he would do a little himself.
“Hey Rick. There are elections in Singapore next month. Are you voting?”
“I might through our embassy in London. If I’m in London.”
Richard spotted a little stall selling crepes in a side street and decided that that would be breakfast.
“What do you make of this SL Lee defection?” Colin asked between mouthfuls of banana and chocolate crepe. He couldn’t resist the delicious folded pancakes even though he had had a big breakfast just an hour ago.
“Colin, you know more than I do what the hell’s going on over there. Why the hell are you so interested? All I’m interested in is spending the rest of this summer doing as little as possible. Let’s go down Cairo in two days. Do absolutely nothing, just float on down the Nile.”
“Rick. Things are happening back home. We can’t ignore that. This election isn’t just about Singapore. So far the Indonesians have shown their displeasure with the government and look what happened. Mass arrests. How about Malaysia? The status quo hung on by the slimmest of margins. Singapore is the stronghold. If any weakness is seen it will be a signal to the rest of the region. The last man standing.”
“You’re nuts.” They approached the Lanvin shop where Richard hoped Colin would find the necessary distraction.
“Hey look. Lanvin. Get your suit.”
At a café south of the Il de la Cité after a long walk and some shopping Richard and Colin sat sipping Champagne and sucking on some disgustingly disgusting French cigarettes.
“These Gitanes will kill you.” Colin said then coughed up his respiratory system.
“I’ll stay with lady Marlboro thanks.” Richard said tossing a butt out onto the street. The summer air was cool without being cold and they slung their jackets on the backs of their chairs.
“You know what I like about Europe?”
“What.” Colin asked stubbing out his cigarette and lighting up a red.
“The seasons. The atmosphere.”
“It’s the fucking Gauloises.” Colin cursed.
“I remember when Europe was booming.” Richard reminisced.
“A couple of years back?”
“Yes. Actually I remember when it was doing crap as well. Same as now. There is nothing new under the sun. Here we are back to reality.”
“I don’t know much about economics but the social implications were profound. Look around. People are even more depressed and disillusioned now. Do you think they will screw more? They’ll probably drink more which will hurt their willies and their sex drives.”
“And smoke more. Even if they screwed more the chances are that conception rates would be low. Very good Colin. Are you suggesting that the Europeans are at risk of extinction?”
“No. They are already at the brink. Americanism has infected most Europeans. I doubt the influence in the other direction is as strong.”
“Ever think about what’s happening at home?” Richard asked to steer the conversation back. Of course Colin was interested.
“More than you Richard. You should take an interest. Sheerluck has the means to make a difference.”
“I’ll leave social conscience to TC Koo. He’s hell bent on social reform and all that mumbo jumbo.”
“Yeah, TC Koo. How did you know him?”
“Long story. We were carving up a bank. He’s got an active scholarship program in force as well.”
“Is he bigger than Sheerluck?”
“I don’t know. I know how big TransGlobal is but I have no idea about the size of Sheerluck. You know what’s happening at home right, the elections and all that?”
“Yes. Your government is on the warpath again. Every election it happens, the post election witch hunt. Could last months, years sometimes.”
“None of my business.” Richard remarked with disdain.
“They just arrested one of the opposition. He was ruling party big wig until 3 months ago. Decided to cross over. Worst damn decision of his miserable life. They’re going to nail the poor bastard.”
“They always do. I couldn’t give a damn who the hell they nail as long as it isn’t me. I’ve been out of the damn place for the better part of the last five years anyway.”
“You sound like you don’t like the government.” Colin was encouraged by Richard’s response.
“Nothing against the government except that they haven’t got a sense of humour. My grouse with the place is the lack of seasons. It’s enough to drive you mad. And besides, you can’t get any decent caviar, Cleverley shoes, cheap Aston Martins, intelligent conversation nor hairy women.”
They laughed loudly like a couple of louts.
“Where shall we dine tonight? In the hotel? It’s one of the best restaurants in town you know.” Colin suggested.
“Tonight we’re going somewhere cheaper. We’re in a global recession remember so let’s not overdo things. You know we have to visit the Breguet shop. Its just around the corner from the hotel.”
“What you want with Breguet now? I thought you never go without that old SeaDweller of yours. I told you to buy that Vacheron at the shop in Chelsea but you were adamant. Now you want Breguet.”
“I want to see. Not to buy. The guy invented a good many things in horology I should at least look at his museum shouldn’t I?”
“I suppose. What are you doing with Sheerluck these days?”
“Very little. It’s become a cash concern. Our holdings in Asiabanc are costing us in market value but the group is OK. Actually I don’t run anything directly, Sheerluck has a team in the City managing the assets of the group. There is an economics unit now as you know, affiliated to the school and I occasionally draw on their resources. The biggest operation in Sheerluck is the distribution centre based in South Kensington. Right now they are distributing a lot less since all we’re living on is interest income. Well more or less.”
“They still manage to pay you guys the big bucks.” Colin scoffed.
“Colin. I work for free.”
Work was an alien concept to Colin who was born into a family of means if rather suspect and sleazy means. How else could a twenty five year old Masters student have membership in the Ritz casinos across Europe, spend frivolously without a care on clothes and cars while generating absolutely no income? Colin’s father was a man called Gregory. He was a man of slight build but imposing stature. A lawyer by training and a womanizer by trade, Gregory Choo began his career with a good sized inheritance from his father who had made a small fortune in rubber in Malaya in the 20’s. Gregory went into business with a few close Bumiputra friends in a construction company. The company grew at a phenomenal rate as only Bumiputra linked companies can and before long was listed on the stock exchange in the capital of Malaysia, Kuala Lumpur. The equity created was huge but the degree of looting of the company post listing would dwarf it. The company died eventually, a rather suspect death, exempt from post mortem by auditors by order of the then Finance Minister. The entire fiasco turned out to be extremely lucrative for Gregory Choo and he retired soon after.
Paris amused them for a further three days after which they headed South to Monte Carlo where Richard had to inspect the progress on the Prospero, the Sheerluck official yacht which he had commissioned some months ago. Form Monte Carlo they traveled by car, a white Ferrari 512V, which Richard stashed away in a villa in Monte Carlo. They drove across to Switzerland to Zurich where Richard or rather Sheerluck maintained a beautiful villa. While Colin was busy combing the streets for watches and other personal ornaments Richard was busy with his lawyers and bankers engaged in a piece of business he did not care to share the details of with Colin.
Lee Soon Lee was effectively under house arrest having been accused of misappropriation of party funds, libel, slander, criminal breach of trust and fraud. What a wonderful list. The one liberty they gave him was access to and the safety of his family. In desperation they were quickly dispatched to Canada.
It was a Thursday morning when Lee was being ‘chauffeured’ to the Attorney General’s office for questioning when it happened. The Mercedes took a detour into a public housing estate and the driver got out. The bodyguard turned around and looked at Lee.
“Mr. Lee. My colleague and I are going to buy some lunch. I’m afraid you’re going to have to take care of your own lunch.”
With that he got out of the car and left. Lee was confused. He looked around and saw that the doors were not locked, but where could he go? Could it be a trap? Were they going to kill him as he tried to ‘escape’? He opened the door and got out of the car but stood by it like a fool while he scanned the area for trouble. A taxi pulled up in front of him and the driver stuck his head out.
“Can I take you somewhere?” Lee simply stared at the driver in confusion.
“Get in.” The driver ordered at last with a hint of exasperation and Lee complied climbing into the cab gingerly. He was nervous and uncertain of his fate.
“Where are we going?” Lee asked the driver.
“Mr. Lee. If you stay in Singapore you will most certainly spend your days in jail. Wouldn’t you prefer to be somewhere else?”
“Where?”
“I can’t say right now. You’ll be told.”
Lee decided it was best to sit back and enjoy the ride. Things could not get any worse anyway.
The Prime Minister summoned his National Security adviser, a rather shady character named Ali Kilrathi.
Also present were the 1st and 2nd Deputy Prime Ministers and the Minister for Defence.
“Where the hell is Lee? How could he escape?” The PM barked at the group of men who sat idly wondering the same things.
“How could he get away? Who was on duty?”
The NSA answered.
“There was a gap in the roster which was computer generated. We are trying to trace if a hacker got to the system. All we know is that Lee was left unattended for 4 hours today. Anyway we have installed additional security to all border points. He will not be allowed to escape.”
“He has escaped.” The 1st DPM said as he stood up.
“Your people fucked up. Fortunately we have our sources. I suggest check regional airports. Particularly KL. If he manages to get out of ASEAN he will be virtually untraceable.”
“We know that.” The PM snapped. “Ali, get the Malaysian side to help. Also check this hacker thing. I’ll bet it comes from a Singapore address.”
David Quah decided to say his piece.
“Mr. Prime Minister. There is a loose end. Lee was in charge of Fieldstone.”
“Yes?” The PM could not see the connection.
David regarded his boss with disdain. It was incredible that he could have missed such an important consideration.
“Fieldstone had an outside contractor. The company’s parent folded up and Fieldstone acted to takeover the company. That was a straightforward deal and was done with no turbulence. But the CEO of the parent was privy to the entire op. He has no idea of the scale or scope but he must not be allowed to be contacted by Lee for obvious reasons.”
“Ali, what is our exposure on this.” The PM said angrily.
“Ali was not included in that op. Sir. I suggest we convene again with the Fieldstone management.”
“Yes alright. When can we do this?”
“They are waiting for us right now.”
David Quah got up on his feet and went to get the Fieldstone people.
Two men who were introduced as Tan and Lim and both were similarly grey suited and grey faced.
“Soon Lee was overseeing the Fieldstone business. Fieldstone’s business is rather sensitive and Lee can be damaging if he wants to be. When Lee went over to the opposition we did communicate to him that his knowledge of Fieldstone was completely confidential and secret and any breach was punishable under Singapore law. He understood his position we feel. It was his arrest that precipitated this issue. Detention was acceptable only if Lee was not allowed to communicate his knowledge of Fieldstone. Now that he has escaped I think we have a real problem.”
“I was aware that Lee was running Fieldstone with our private sector contractors,” The Prime Minister began, “but what information does he have that might prove damaging?”
“Fieldstone is kept under wraps because of its immense profitability and the risk that a leak might draw public attention and we know that suspicions are always against us.” David explained.
“Yes but Soon Lee has run. He has no proof. It will be our word against his and he is running from the law.” The PM reasoned.
“There are a couple of loose ends though. I’ll need your sanction on this.” The grey suited man aid solemnly to the PM.
“What’s that?”
“He may have a couple of potential corroborating witnesses.”
“Watch them closely. Warn them under the ISA.” Donald Lee commanded.
“They’ll take care of it.” David assured his Prime Minister.
He knew he had to flee Singapore. The last straw was the apparent disappearance of SL Lee. As long as the government had him under their control or in the country at least there was no risk that the truth would ever come to be known by anyone but a handful of people, but now Lee had slipped through their fingers and they had confiscated his passport. The Boss had been in trouble before but never this much. He knew the wrong people who used to be the right people. Now the authorities were watching him and listening in on his phone calls. If it had not been for the anonymous warning he had received that his life might be in danger he would not have acted at all. He needed to leave immediately and it was already getting dangerous for him to move around the island. He needed his old friend Han to do him one last favor. It would also mean leaving millions in the care of someone he didn’t totally trust. Even if he was an old friend. Manchester. He still had many ‘Brothers’ there. The Boss had already made preparations to leave. Already his secretary had arranged for most of his cash to be sent to Sydney, London, and Vegas. His first stop would be Johor Bahru via fishing boat that night from a fishing pier on the north shore of Singapore. It was 2100 hrs and time to leave. The Boss had booked a table for 10 a his favourite restaurant and had called his usual Karaoke bar for his usual room. He knew they were being watched but was confident that his plan would work. The help he would receive came from a powerful source, an interest in the politics of Singapore, sponsors of a Newsletter called Freespeech.com. Kong reflected on the irony of things. Once he had been a two bit hood selling pornographic videos in the Chinatown slums and then by a stroke of luck he was a legitimate businessman who hung with Ministers and CEOs of local companies. The perfect world he had created was beginning to crumble and the powers began to realise how damaging he could be to them. He had to leave; his home, his friends, his life behind. And it would be some of those old friends who would most want him silenced. He had turned to his old school friends. People he could trust and with whom the connection with him was loose enough that it would not do them in. Han had come through and set the escape up. So after a small time criminal start to a multimillion dollar Chairmanship it was time to go.
He could see in the rear view mirror the Toyota Corolla following them. The road was dark and a little damp from the afternoon’s rain. Dinner had been a quiet affair. They were careful not to discuss any of their plans at table for fear of directional microphones which might have picked up something. Now in the car they did not speak. Also following them was Han and his friend Sami in a Mercedes. The Boss turned down one of the notorious side streets of Singapore’s red light district, Geylang, and stop in front of a brightly lit bar. A car valet stepped up and handed a ticket to the Boss as the doorman helped the others out of the car. The Corolla stopped about 30 metres up the street and killed its lights. William Kong was seen filing into the Sakura Bar at 2330 hrs followed by Han and Sami. The agent in the Corolla called for back up while his partner went ahead to check out the bar. They didn’t plan on staying too long. William sneaked under the dark cover afforded by the low lights in the main Karaoke hall to the back door which opened into a small lane. There they crossed over into the back of yet another bar. Han and Sami followed after but Sami stayed at the door. They crossed the dance floor to the entrance and found a blue Mercedes waiting for them. Han got into the driver’s seat and the Boss into the front passenger seat. They were on their way.
The agent cursed out loud when he opened the door to the Karaoke room booked by William Kong. It was empty. His first reaction was to radio his partner in the car who immediately relayed the message. The Boss was on the run.
The airport, train station and causeway were the first to be sealed. Then coast guard went on alert. Han had been careful not to use any of the highways as he figured they’d be setting up road blocks all over the bloody place by now and indeed they were. He was already along Lim Chu Kang road and searching for the turn that would take them to the pier. For some crazy reason they had chosen a pier which had right next to it, a coast guard post. When they finally got to the pier it was deserted but for the usual fishing folk. There didn’t seem to be any activity in the coast guard post. They practically strolled down the pier into the waiting boat. There was no time for pleasantries and so neither man spoke. The 18 footer fired up its OMCs and turned out north to the Johor coast. William Kong was now a free man.
The reason the LCK coast guard post never received the APB was that its phone lines had been apparently electronically cut. When the CID came to check out the damage they found the phone lines cut by a 1000x surge in voltage that probably lasted a few microseconds. That the wireless did not work either could have been the result of jamming. The puzzling thing was that coast guard HQ had received confirmation of receipt of orders and even tracked a coast guard boat in that sector.
That day the news of William Kong’s escape was front page news. Interpol was alerted as were the regional authorities though in the latter case they were less inclined to help. The Singapore authorities would make as much noise in the local newspapers as they liked but they knew they had lost him. All they could do was to inflict the maximum of damage upon relatives and friends of the Boss left behind in Singapore as well as confiscate whatever scraps of assets they could find. It was a futile and malicious exercise but one executed efficiently and brutally. William Kong couldn’t give a damn. All he cared was that he was a free man and his family was safely out of the country.
more
more
It had been a busy day meeting with the staff at Sheerluck and Richard was very tired. All he wanted was a shower and a nap but before that he had to check his email of which he easily received 50 a day.
One item stood out. It was a message from the chairman of the MSS. It was a Q&A with a political fugitive and dissident recently exiled from Singapore for his part in the recent General Election. Apparently he had been expected to win in his district but been found guilty of impropriety regarding his party’s funds. Fearing for his life and claiming a frame up, he fled the country and as with so many other fugitives from oppressive regimes, ended up in London.
:The MSS invites all members and interested parties to a discussion with S L Lee formerly of the WP. Cheese and Wine Party to follow.
It sounded interesting. He emailed his reply that he would attend.
Singapore. An office in Parliament building. Agent 01 sat at his desk. In front of him his monitor displayed the regular email reports he got from London. A meeting with SL Lee at the LSE. He would have to get Birmingham to corroborate.
Straits Times headlines. SL Lee ordered to pay S$20 million in damages. In a high court today fugitive and ex deputy chairman of the WP SL Lee was ordered to pay damages to the SM totaling….
His two children a boy and a girl aged 10 and 13 respectively have been placed under house arrest. They are living with an aunt WM Ooi.
Mickey had just seen the message in her email. A meeting with SL Lee at the Old Theatre next Wednesday. She put it in her electronic diary. She remembered the day she left Singapore for the UK. A few months later she had found on the www a page for Opposition against the government of Singapore called Freespeech.com . It recruited young students like herself, young enough or stupid enough to dare to oppose, and far enough not to worry. It hoped that they would form the new elite, a group of dynamic and capable people who would in time be able to form a credible opposition and break the monopoly of power the current Party had. She had joined eagerly . Name and email address were not requested. It made her feel safe but soon habit and comfort led her to many a risky practice. Like requesting hard copies mailed anonymously to her address. Somewhere along the way her security could easily have been compromised. Perhaps nothing would come of it but the risk was there. The Freespeech.com Webmaster had called a face to face meeting in Canterbury in Kent and she had decided to chance it and attend.
Rick had received the same invitation though he was not a member of Freespeech.com. it was public information anyway. It took Rick a good 2 hours to get into Canterbury and he was only just in time. The hall it was supposed to be held in turned out to be a small lecture room. It was quite full and Rick practically opened the door into the back of a girl leaning against it making her drop her satchel. He muttered an apology and took his place beside her, the only space left in the room. Rick recognized a few faces in the room, generally the usual suspects, people with a grouse, with an ax to grind with the government, people who had failed to get the breaks they needed, they were all here. Webmaster was introducing himself, his organisation and giving a brief speech on civil liberties.
“ Who is that guy with the crew cut?” Rick asked the girl on his left whom he had earlier crashed into. It turned out to be Mickey.
“That’s the president of the Oxford MSS. Lau.”
“ Not the best place for him to be is it? What are you doing here Michelle?”
“ I was bored.” she smiled. “Thanks for opening the door on me.”
“Very sorry. I’ll make it up to you. This Lau? Is he connected.”
“He works for the Central Bank.”
“ Ah . I think I thought more of him before you told me that.” Rick peered over the shoulders of those in front of him to see Lau more clearly. “ What’s the Newton for?”
A Q&A was about to begin before the usual cheese and wine which never went down well with Asians.
Rick raised his hand to ask a question. The Webmaster saw him and acknowledged.
“ Yes. The gentleman at the back.”
“Thank you. I just want to ask you if you feel secure expressing your views and plans before all these people of whom you only have superficial knowledge. They may well be government supporters.”
“ We are a public organisation. We have nothing to hide, our agenda is public and if the government wants to send spies to this meeting they are free to do so.”
“Some of the things you say may be deemed subversive and subject you to the Internal Security Act which allows detention without trial. Aren’t you concerned?”
“ Well, yes, but I know most of these people here, and I’ve corresponded with them at length. I do not think I have said anything that would warrant arrest under the ISA, do you?”
“ People have been prosecuted for less.”
“What makes you bring up this issue of my security? We are all friends here.”
“Perhaps but are you aware that this meeting is being recorded and documented?”
“No. By whom.”
“Look around you.” Rick left it at that. He had found out all he wanted to know about Freespeech.com. There were a couple of other questions after which Webmaster called the meeting to a close and motioned everyone toward the buffet tables.
“What was that all about?” Mickey asked.
“Look I’m not going to have anything to eat here but would you like to go into town for a bite?”
“I’m visiting friends here. Maybe next time..”
“ Next time then.” He was a little disappointed. It was another tiresome drive back to London and he figured he could make it in time for dinner there. He started the engine and let it idle there as he booted up his notebook. He took some notes and then shut down. Before he took off he couldn’t resist a look back to see if he might find her there.
Docklands, down by the quays on a cold autumn afternoon, a blue Mercedes was idling by the water front. There was one passenger at the rear left and a driver in front It was a pretty quiet time of day and the occupant in the back seat appeared to be waiting for someone. He was reading the newspaper while sucking on a menthol cigarette. The police had been following the man at the request of Interpol, just maintaining a record of his movements. That day they watched him from a van parked on a road at a higher elevation through their binoculars wondering what further instructions would be forthcoming. So far Interpol had been less than clear as to what to do with William Kong when they found him. Now he was alone in his car apparently waiting to meet with perhaps a member of the London triads. Their instructions were to watch and report, nothing more. Jerry Mills was the Officer In Charge. He cursed under his breath at his luck at being assigned the mission. It would either be dead boring or it could escalate very quickly into violence. These triad things were like that. He recalled a colleague who went undercover for a whole year without turning up anything. In the end another agency got the drop on the target and all he had to do was make the introductions and reel in the fish. Mills looked at his watch, it was 1530 hrs. He was getting quite tired of the whole thing when he noticed something strange, the rear window of the Mercedes had turned to opaque white. The realisation seemed to come slowly, almost too slowly and he cursed himself for it. To the others around him who had they been watching would have applauded his speed, his was a lightning fast reaction.
“Shooter.” Mills yelled to his people.
The team scrambled from their vantage point and ran as fast as they could towards the car with their weapons at the ready. Mills himself was busy scanning the area for the gunman. He could see no evidence of a sniper. His next thought was to think of a potential perch from which to strike and he scanned the skyline around him very quickly. There it was, an elevated shack just next to the scrap compactor.
“Dempsey. Up there.”
He diverted the rest of his team there.
By the time the police got to the Mercedes the Gunman was already dismantling his weapon. He looked out the window to see policemen headed his way and decided it was too late to save the gun. There would be just enough time to get himself out. Whoever was down there had made him and he or she must have been pretty good. He wouldn’t even have time to stow the weapon.
The bullet had hit him in the base of the neck from behind and punched clear through the shoulder blade. It was an armour piercing round chosen to not deviate as it went through the glass. Fortunately for the Boss it also meant that the bullet would not tumble, which if it did would surely have killed him. As it was he might still die but his chances were good. Paramedics were quickly dispatched to the scene and they quickly evacuated the victim to a helicopter while the uniforms interviewed the driver.
The sergeant who lead the team to clear the building Mills had indicated returned to report.
“We found the room sir. Managed to retrieve the weapon, good looking Austrian make but probably a fake or a license. The shooter escaped probably on a bike. We’re still examining the area.”
“All right. I want to have a look around first then bag everything and we’ll have a look in the office.”
Mills knew at once that he had inherited a headache. He didn’t like the sound of triad involvement and Interpol. Kong was a mobster no doubt but definitely not big time enough to warrant this kind of attention. Mills at once suspected that it was part of a bigger picture, internal struggle in the triads perhaps. But why kill a retiree? He had a load of work to do.
“Seal the area. Secure all the docks.” Mills barked.
He knew that it would be futile but doubted if they would find anything.
William Kong was flown to the Royal Free Hospital where he underwent surgery immediately to patch up the nasty hole that the bullet had torn across his shoulder. In two hours he was in a stable condition and uncomfortably asleep.
The Suit had told Gunman to meet him at the safe house in suburban Wanstead where he would give him his new instructions. The Suit waited in a Cavalier across the street. He saw Gunman approach the rendezvous on a bike and dismount quickly about two doors from the rendezvous. Gunman walked cautiously up to the door of the safe house and pressed the doorbell. Gunman was disorientated and running scared, he fidgeted and looked around nervously one hand returning every now and then to his jacket pocket obviously to fondle a weapon. Gunman was the perfect target framed against the door of the safe house and The Suit dropped him at the doorstep with a silenced 4.62mm discarding sabot submachinegun. Twice. Blood splattered back against the door as Gunman slumped backwards and fell to the ground. That was the price of failure.
The Suit was more annoyed than anything. With the failure of Gunman he had either to get another shooter or find another way. The security around William Kong was going to double and a second attempt would be extremely difficult. There had to be another way.
The weapons report sat on Mills’s table. He was quite perplexed. It was an Austrian gun but there were no serial numbers. Actually the were not even any part numbers. The whole weapon was without a mark. The empty cartridges and leftover ammo was being tested and a full ballistics would take until the day after. They were standard 5.56 NATO rounds which could have been bought anywhere so he didn’t expect any extra help. His Sergeant sat across the table trying hard to avoid the smoke Mills was blowing.
“Peter. Any chance of identifying any outsourced parts? A firing pin, a trigger spring, anything?”
“No sir. The gun’s clean. So far we have nothing. We’re still trying to analyze the oil and the screws. See these little grub screws. Not many people use them. We might be able to track down a subcontractor. Meanwhile we have Joe and his boys talking to the Steyr representative. It’s their design after all. Maybe they can tell us where this one came from.”
“Where do you think it came from?”
“Well a couple of countries make this weapon under license for example Malaysia and Singapore. We also know that some countries make it without bothering to tell Steyr. Philippines, Iran, Pakistan. But the work here is outstanding. This is like Steyr made it itself. The sight for example isn’t a standard AUG sight. It has a coaxial laser. And its not a custom made otherwise it probably wouldn’t look much like a gun but its been customized perhaps.”
“A couple of weeks ago there was a shooting on Regent Street. Can you check the weapons report on that?”
“Sure, but surely they’re not related sir.”
“They’re not you’re right but the weapons though different had one thing in common. They were clean of any markings as well.”
Rao had been given the go ahead by Atlanta to investigate the murder or disappearance of Thomas E. Bliss, last seen or heard from at the Afghan Pakistan border headed north. He had one ace field operative to send up there, Menem Ali. Bulchandani was not a field man even though he did make the connection and had wanted to go. Sources deep under had also reported other interested parties in the search for the Russian gun trail. Notably an ex SAS officer asking a lot of questions in St. Petersburg. Menem would leave at once and join a caravan bringing Japanese electronic goods up the Afghan trail. It would begin in Karachi.
Menem got up at 0530 to prepare for the long journey. He packed the new HP micro-note, a sub notebook size computer running Intel’s new PF. It also had a cellular communicator built in with real time video/audio. Voice recognition and a watch controller were also packaged with it. His cover was driving one of the trucks that would carry loads of Japanese made electronics like the sub note he had or PCs and peripherals. Even an entire Mercedes 600 brand new in the box condition. His contact was a local with connections, an agent the US military had used before to get recon photographers in and out of the country. It was a crazy trade route and a dangerous one they would take. The route wound its way through hills and desert and further north through forest into the 10 ex Soviet states. Along the way trade would be carried out until the final destination deep in Russia itself, in Leningrad. The journey would take 10 days during which they would travel through bandit ridden roads. The only protection they had was a shit load of AKs and even more 7.62 rounds. That and the risk that their cargo may be bound for the highly connected in which case revenge would be swift and brutal. Most of the caravans were left well alone.
Menem suited up for the day, picked up his oversized rucksack and headed for the meeting place at the north western end of the city.
Twenty Seven trucks in all and big IVECOs at that sat in a convoy along the ‘main road’ which was a dirt road, more of a path than an actual asphalt road. They were idling and being fed by some smaller trucks of various makes. About two hundred men in all were busy at work and Menem was one of them. It was back breaking work as the crates were heavily laden with metal and had to be carefully transported from the Thai trucks to the Indian ones. The men in charge numbered about ten and were armed with some pretty advanced equipment, certainly not the cheap and low tech stuff they were transporting. When they were done packing the crates into the bigger and sturdier IVECOs they were quickly underway leaving the Thai team sitting around their trucks having lunch. Progress was fairly quick on the smooth track but would become slow as the track wound its way into the higher altitudes and rougher terrain further north. The away team turned out to number only about 100. Every man was given an M16 and four clips. That was for the bandits if they were foolish enough to attempt an ambush. Each vehicle had a cabin roof mounted GPMG as well. This slow moving caravan was best left alone.
It was the 3rd week of Michaelmas. The S L Lee Q&A was underway in the Old Theatre. The attendance was quite high and surprisingly there were a good number of non Singaporeans other than the usual Malaysians. Rick had decided to be early and got a good seat in the front. There were the usual complaints by Lee against the government of Singapore and the usual heavy handed bludgeoning by the party faithful among the students. One of the points Lee made was that he was being harassed even in England and that at one point he feared for his life. He was asked to elaborate and mentioned that he suspected that his telephone was being tapped, that he suspected that he had been followed and that his computer files had been accessed by a hacker. At this point Rick stood up and motioned to speak.
“Mr. Lee. How sure are you that your phone was actually tapped, that you were actually followed and that your PC was actually hacked into? Do you have any hard evidence? Because if you do, for one thing I can probably trace the source of the intrusion into your PC as well as lock it up so tight no one else will be able to get in.”
The chairman for the meeting was suddenly interested. “Your name sir? And from which institution do you come from?”
“I’m a student here at the LSE and if you don’t mind I would like to make life a little more difficult for all those present who are documenting this whole thing so they can report it to their handlers back home.” That last remark got the crowd going. The chairman called for order which came rather quickly.
“What do you mean by that statement sir?”
“I think we all know what he means..” Lee interrupted.
Mickey’s attention was drawn by the commotion and she immediately recognized Rick. He was courageous she would give him that much, but more importantly it identified him as friend rather than foe. She was glad in a way to find him an ally. At the end of the conference she made her way towards him. Already he was being mobbed by all manner of amateur journalists from a dozen school publications. He was giving them the ‘no comment’ to perfection. The speaker himself SL Lee was calling out to Rick and Rick signaled him to meet outside. Mickey was just a fraction too late as Lee and Rick got into the crowded lift. She guessed that they must have been headed for 4 and so took the stairs instead.
In the cafeteria over coffee and coke and a cigarette Lee got his chance to speak to Rick.
“What did you mean by what you said?”
“You know exactly what I meant. The squeaky clean moles with their recorders taking notes. At a lecture I understand but at an informal meeting?” he shook his head.
“ You think they work for the government?”
“I cannot say. I’d like to help you but not here. I’ll speak to you again in two weeks time Monday at this address.” He slipped Lee a card.
The disappearance of William Kong was a great inconvenience to the government. He was wanted for questioning in connection with the fall of Glory plc even though he had been cleared in the preliminary investigation. To the officers on the public prosecutor’s office it seemed strange that they would be investigating so closely a man who had previously been absolved of any wrong doing in the very same matter. Perhaps the Attorney General felt that there had been an oversight. In any case accountants were called in to audit not only the company but the personal financial positions of the directors. Surjan Singh was one such accountant sifting through William Kong’s papers. He was a junior man and this was his first real assignment. The numbers were confusing and at times inconsistent. He had a made a list of people or companies that William had paid since he first began business almost 30 years ago. It was a slow and tedious process and four persons were assigned to cover different periods of the records. Surjan had the fortune of covering the period from the 70’s to 80’s. He made out a list of payments and receipts, sifting it for any indication of impropriety. It was a strange task as nobody had briefed them about the nature of the impropriety, merely that one had occurred. The man running the investigation was one Dennis Pereira, public prosecutor and a man who could freeze hell. He would read the reports of the auditor’s daily and would even be able to pick out typos. This was one sick mother fucker, Singh though to himself as he leafed through a bank statement from Kong’s UOB account. One item stood out, a $100,000 payment to an account name Wong Lee Lin. That name was not on the list which itself was not significant and Singh merely added the name to the list and highlighted it in green. What was significant was the amount, small today but substantial in 1974, before Kong was supposedly a man of means. Surjan checked the account balance to see how that withdrawal was able to be done. The account balances were mostly constant at no more than a few thousand. Then he found it, a bunch of credits totaling over a hundred thousand. It had almost escaped him. He needed to know the source. The email inquiry was sent immediately to the bank and was given immediate attention. The code associated with the payment into the account came from a Hong Kong bank and a Malaysian bank. The find would expose the true wealth and power William Kong possessed. Pereira summoned Singh to his office.
“Surjan, Very good work. You are from the Inland Revenue aren’t you?”
“Yes sir.” Surjan was a bit uneasy in the presence of such a powerful man.
“Before you were seconded to this project you were asked to sign a document.”
“Official secrets act sir.”
“Yes, that’s right. You know what that means.” It was not a question nor a threat but it felt very much like a threat. A sidewise one.
“Yes sir.” Surjan was not stupid and saw a career opportunity looming. He just never expected the gravity of it all.
“How would you like to transfer to public prosecutor’s?”
“I’d like that sir.”
“Good. As of now. You will keep everything you see and do here secret. You’ll be working with me directly for the next couple of weeks, probably not in the office. For now I want you to fly to Hong Kong and get me all the information you can on Kong’s accounts, I want you to write up a report outlining his entire operation, just like an annual report, audit the man as if he were a business, leave no stone unturned. Your travel arrangements will be made for you, as will your official title credentials. Get them from Chan, the chief clerk.”
“Yes sir. May I speak candidly sir.”
“To me always or not at all.”
“This man Kong, he was dirty for a very very long time. It was no secret though. A lot of people on the street knew. Why are we looking now?”
“Surjan, it’s all about the law, not what we know but what we can prove. Before he ran we had no cause to audit the man to this degree of detail. Now we do.”
It was not a satisfactory answer but Surjan decided not to pursue the matter further. He thanked the man for the opportunity of working with him, the usual ass kissing spiel, and then left quietly to pursue a new career in dirt digging.
The unfolding picture of William Kong’s invisible empire was awesome. The man was a book maker on the Hong Kong, Melbourne, Malaysian and Singapore horse racing tracks and the proceeds of his operations, which was mostly cash, was diverted all over South East Asia to escape scrutiny. In each of the countries in which he had an operation a company was set up to launder the money. The money was passed through in the form of payments to the company for goods which would never be delivered and would ultimately be repatriated to the Malaysian parent. It was a simple and effective blind. Surjan Singh sat at his desk in the suite at the Regent in Kuala Lumpur, one of the perks of working with Pereira, staring at his notebook PC and looking at the structure he had created over the past weeks in Hong Kong and Sydney. It was almost complete but there was something more to the story. Who was that checque written for, the one that had alerted him to the massive hidden empire of William Kong? It was a woman’s name. A mistress? It was something Surjan would have to find out for he felt that there was much value in that information and there was.
Kevin had had his eye on Michelle for some time but he had been distracted by Alexis. It was a pretty wild and ill advised affair that ensued with Alexis but the girl was not a really interested in Kevin or his money having more than enough herself. That was the trouble with sirens, by definition the bringers of doom to men of fragile constitution. The break up had been painful as Kevin had been used to being the initiator of break ups and had garnered a reputation as a user of women. This time he had been used for sex and discarded when the novelty wore off. It was early Michaelmas when Alexis found her new squeeze. He was a Masters student at the school who was a little bit too old for her but it excited her and for him she was a young teenager to fuel his almost paedophilic desires. Alexis had neglected to tell Kevin about the end of the affair but allowed him rather to walk in on her lovemaking with her new man in her hall room, on the very bed that two nights ago she had shared with Kevin. Kevin was devastated and was unable to function for almost a week. He sought refuge at the Passfield bar with Daniel, whom he had come to know quite well. Daniel whose flirtation with the Passfield catacombs had taught him much about resisting the seduction of the fairer sex and who now sat in the bar with a newfound knowledge and strength that made the bar a haunt rather than a prison cell. Kevin was a resident in International the previous year but had been unable to secure a place there for a second year and so found Passfield a refuge. Daniel’s place in Passfield was his own insanity.
“How are you and Michelle?” Kevin asked Daniel whom he assumed she was dating.
“I hear she’s good. At Canterbury this year. And Alexis.” It was an unintentional sucker punch.
“I hear she’s good too. I’m not seeing her anymore. Got bored of the bitch.” Kevin boasted though inside he felt real pain. Not so much because he loved her but because she had left him first and in so humiliating a manner.
“Really? Why?” Daniel was surprised that the Singaporeans’ most publicly physical duo had actually split.
“Got bored. All she does is preen herself. We ran out of things to talk about. I think she was a bit of a bimbo.”
“So who are you seeing now?”
“Nobody. Its my third year man, I got no time for this.”
Nick and Richard were walking down Knightsbridge from the corner with Sloane St. down south towards Sloane Square. It was a fairly cold late winter’s day and the sky was dark with cloud. Inside the buildings bright orange lights were evidence of life. Outside in the cold people were still going about their business, which in this part of town was shopping. Nick pulled her coat around her ears as the wind whipped up around her. It began to snow a little and the little flecks settled upon the shoulders of her friend’s coat.
“It’s a crazy time to go shopping. The holidays are in a couple of weeks and we could go away.” Nick suggested as they took refuge beneath a bus shelter for a moment.
“There’s just too much work at Sheerluck this time of year. Otherwise I’d love to. I think I wasted too much time hanging around with Colin. He can certainly afford it.”
“Yeah. What’s with Colin. Is he some tycoon’s son or something.”
“Not quite. Some shady character’s son is a little closer to the mark.”
Nick pressed herself against Richard like a cat would against its master’s foot, sharing some of the warmth. He welcomed the gesture even though he knew she was a lesbian and that any attraction they may have had for one another would merely be academic. Such was love he told himself.
“Remember that girl Kevin was seeing?”
“The sexy one?”
“Alexis. Dumped him big time.” She put her arm around his shoulder as far as it would go around the oversized coat. The snow intensified its falling and the light began to fail.
“How did you know Nick?”
“Came crying to me. Men do that. I guess they think I’m safe. I won’t tell a soul.”
“Well you told me didn’t you?”
Richard pulled her closer by the waist and she did not resist. The cold was conducive to romance under the guise of necessity yet these two had no place in romance.
“You’re different. You’re like a fucking priest.”
“Fucking priest? What makes you think I tell no one? Is it because I have no one to tell?”
“Now that’s self pity.” Nick chided. In his eyes she was so beautiful, the deep dark eyes and fairly sculpted features, well for an Asian anyway, the short hair parted wherever, messy mop that it had become in the wind. The eyes had it and they had him. They had him looking into them and expressing all he could not or would not for discretion, yet passion is such that it blurts the truth however destructive or inappropriate and his eyes told her depths of how he felt for her. Why did he have to love me she wondered. There are so many girls out there. He smiled to break the evil spell.
“You’ll always have me Rick.” Nick said earnestly. “I know you think it’s funny.”
“I don’t think it’s funny. I think it’s a very nice thing to say.”
“Remember when we first met?”
“Yes, both hitting on the same woman. I was. I’m still at a loss for words.”
“I knew her first.”
“You met her first you didn’t know anything about her. I spent a couple of months getting to know her and you came and took her. I admit I lost. You’re the better man.”
“Fuck you Rick. She was gay that’s all. You were just barking up the wrong tree.”
“You still seeing her?” Richard lit a cigarette with his free hand and handed it to Nick.
“Why, you still interested?” Nick said before taking a long drag.
“Give it up pal. People don’t change overnight, not a change like this. It takes something really special if at all.”
“What was her name?”
“Eve. Sweetest thing I ever knew. How did you come to know her?”
“My class. It was her tan. No. No. That’s not true, it was the shoulders. Strong shoulders.”
“Yeah. I remember those arms holding me. Its so cold out here. Is this the coldest winter we’ve seen?”
“No. Three years back. Before you came. Sub zeroes November through February. A couple of feet of snow.” It felt strange that they both spoke so lovingly about someone they both loved for they were of opposite sexes. Richard felt a bit uncomfortable at first but the arms that held him in that cold snowy evening melted those feelings away.
“You seeing anyone at the moment Nick?” Richard wondered aloud.
“No. I got hit on by this 18 year old from City and then I realised how old I really was. I can’t do this anymore.”
“Four year difference. Why not?”
“Rick, do you mind me being around? I mean, if people see us together , you know, prospective dates. They might think you and I have something going.”
“I don’t mind at all.” Richard replied smiling a smile she could not see for his chin was on her head. “Its quite an exquisite feeling.”
“What?” She was confused.
“Being in love.”
“It is.” She nodded. “Are you seeing anyone?”
“Yes and no.”
“As usual. When are you going to tell her?” She said in a mocking tone and then felt sorry for her insensitivity. That was how he had lost Eve to her.
“I’m not telling you who it is this time so you won’t be able to steal her from me.”
“I won’t steal her from you. I might steal you from her.”
Things were getting a bit ridiculous at this point as the snow had continued falling and now covered the pavement in a thick carpet of white. They were actually getting snowed in at the bus stop.
“I think we’d better go back Rick. This snow isn’t going to stop soon.”
“I think you’re right. I haven’t seen 19 in a while.”
They ended up walking up the road and west to Harrods where the substantial heating inside made them take off their coats. The weather had rendered the shop quite empty and Richard and Nick wandered among the huge halls wondering how a giant store with so much stock and off late flagging sales managed to stay alive.
“Nick. I want to give you something.” He stopped and handed her his coat.
“I don’t think I want your coat Rick.” Nick said as she took the heavy coat on her arm and gave him a sidewise look from beneath her canopy of hair.
“No. Nothing like that.” Richard removed the old Submariner from his wrist and took his coat back. “This is for you.” He handed her the watch.
“I can’t take that Rick. You’ve had it for ever.”
“Still works fine.”
“That’s not what I meant. It must mean a lot to you.” She protested. “Besides it’s going to be a bit loose.”
“No problem, we’ll get it fixed at the Watch Room.”
“Rick. I can’t”
“I want you to have it. Please.”
“You’re nuts. It’s must be priceless to you, I mean, you’ve had it since when?”
“Its been more than eight years. I scrimped and saved for it. That was when I was a lot less comfortable. This watch carries with it memories Nick. See that scratch on the bezel,” Rick indicated to a gouge on the black plastic bezel near the 11 o’clock. “that was a machine gun bolt that blew up in front of me. An there are a couple more scars I can remember. I’ve never given you anything, not on your birthday, not at Christmas, never. I wanted to give you something that meant something to me.”
“I’ll take it then.” Nick gave in. “Anytime you want it back.”
“It’ll mean a lot more to me sitting on your wrist. Come on, lets go to the Watch Room and get that thing sized.”
Surjan Singh handed in his report to Pereira at 0800 hrs. Pereira looked tired and accepted the report quite uninterestedly thanking Singh for his efforts. At 1200 as Singh was about to go out to lunch his telephone rang. It was Pereira asking him to come to his room. Singh went in to a very different Pereira from the one that had reluctantly accepted his 80 page document.
“Surjan. Sit. This Wong Lee Lin. Who is she?”
“We don’t know much. She’s doing a legitimate business absolutely no impropriety, no current link to the man. We checked out every single business associate of William Kong and there are no leads. Its possible this woman may know where Kong has gone but I doubt it. That checque was written twenty years ago.”
“The size Surjan. The size. Find her. Find out what the checque was for and what she knows about the man.”
All things being equal things are never equal. Michelle was puzzled when she looked at her personal log on the LSE net. It showed that her machine had logged on to the net at 0214 hrs the night before. As far as she could remember she was asleep at he time. She ignored the little anomaly and proceeded to read her mail which included a heap of messages from her girlfriends from pre university days now scattered across the globe in search of fulfillment in dollars and cents. Another thing seemed strange to her. Of the eleven messages that had accumulated in the space of 48 hours only three were not flagged to indicate that they had been left unread. The remaining eight appeared to have been read. She went to her inbox message log to check the status of her mail. The last mail unread was received at 0227 hrs. The others had been read. She logged off and called Daniel.
“Daniel, hi. I need some help.”
“Sure Michelle.” He was always glad to help.
“I think someone has been reading my email.”
“Reading your email? Why?”
“I don’t know. Can you trace who hacked into my cache?”
“I guess so. What’s your password, I’ll try to do it from here.” He was in Passfield and she in College Hall.
“soc66093. My username is Mickey.”
“Mickey, soc66093. Mickey as in mouse?”
“Affirmative.”
“Let you know in a bit.”
She went to bed with a book, the complete Oscar Wilde and climbed beneath the duvet where it was pleasantly cool. The Nightingale and the Rose. It was a present from Daniel. She began to read a little but found that she could not concentrate. Her mother had been late with her weekly call by two days now and Mickey decided to call back. She dialed her home number and waited as the line attempted to connect. It was her aunt Lisa who answered.
“Hi. Aunt Lisa. What are you doing there? Can I speak to my mom?”
There was a long pause which Mickey supposed was the delay due to distance. She was calling half way across the world after all.
“Michelle. Your mom went out. I’ll ask her to call you OK?”
“Alright.” Mickey was a bit disappointed.
“How is everything?” Aunt Lisa asked of Mickey.
“Fine. Everything is fine.”
Daniel logged on to the LSE net and called up Mickey’s username. He typed in her password and waited as the server approved his login. It was easy to trace the time of access and the files that had been accessed. Mostly they were mail archives. He managed to trace the terminal from which the unauthorized access had been made. It was a terminal inside the LSE local network, a terminal inside the library the BLPES. There was a touch of curiosity as well as wonder, a touch of guilt and suspicion as well. He himself had hacked into her account before though it was from his very room via a convoluted path back to the National University of Singapore’s server and back to London again. Why had this stranger hacked into Mickey’s account and what did he seek? If he could hack in could not he also see the trail Daniel was leaving? There was a bit of fear in that thought, the fear that a full investigation by the LSE computer staff might reveal his forays into her server space. What would that mean to her? It was an outright intrusion. Now this other intrusion, what if someone could see him as well? What would he tell her? He could say that it was a dead end in which case Mickey might well complain to the net staff and that would expose his own indiscretion. He had to invent a credible cover but he had no idea what to cook up. Perhaps he could tell her that it was a routine server clean out. She knew a little more about computers than that. Here was a problem. He decided that his first task was to completely bury the tracks he may have left before.
It was snowing again and the insomnia was worse now. Mickey decided to surf the net instead of trying to lose consciousness. She logged on directly to her ISP and waited for her news pages to update. News about home was what she was interested in. The news caster software instantly launched her into American news, being a product of US manufacture.
Higher unemployment reported. The forecasts were for further deterioration. The situation in Europe was similarly grim. Mickey wondered what the future had for her. It seemed that she would graduate into a world economy depressed and dying. She scrolled further down to news of companies firing in droves, shutting down operations in all parts of the world as well as at home.
In Asia the news was thin. Three years of economic stagnation did that kind of damage. Only one lonely story about the retreat of the last foreign bank from Hong Kong featured as headlines. Another article about TransGlobal picking up the slack by hiring all the fired employees of the companies that quit.
Political news was a bit more interesting. Apparently there was some unrest in North Western China. The report said something about rebel forces in the provinces bordering Kazakhstan putting up a credible resistance to the superior numbers of the government forces. Mickey read that one with some interest. It seemed that the action up there was causing some concern among the Russians and Indians as well. Russian troops had been moved to support the Sino Russian border near Siberia. The news may have been very far removed from her but it was troubling news and would not help her sleep any better.
The article appeared in the Foreign Edition of the Straits Times, a story of such little significance that it was silly to even find it there. The article in the local version of the newspaper was similarly advertised.
Ex Madam Arrested For Returning to World’s Oldest Profession.
Mdm. Wong Lee Lin was arrested today for allegedly running a prostitution ring behind her legitimate beauty care business. Mdm. Wong founded a chain of beauty parlours in the eighties and expanded her branch network to some eight shops island wide. Last night in a vice raid on one of the salons owned by Mdm. Wong illegal workers were detained who were believed to be prostitutes of several different nationalities. Mdm. Wong was arrested at her home in Holland Road for allegedly running and living of the proceeds of the prostitution business.
The article went on to give a brief history of the woman from her days as a bar girl in the underbelly of Singapore, the red light district, to her success as entrepreneur and her return to ‘the trade’ as it were.
Mdm. Wong was placed under house arrest and no formal charges were brought against her. Dennis Pereira went to visit her the night after the arrest to question her at her home. Wong was quiet and calm as that was her nature. In her mind she understood that she was innocent but was being used as part of a greater game. She only prayed that her daughter would be spared any involvement. Fortunately the authorities had been quite kind and had not terrorized anyone. The senior watch officer buzzed the doorbell and waited for Mdm. Wong to open it.
“Ma’am, Mr. Pereira would like to speak with you.”
Pereira who was behind the officer stepped forward and introduced himself. Mdm. Wong invited him inside and they both sat across the dining table.
“Mdm. Wong these charges against you are very serious.” Pereira began.
“These charges are totally untrue and you know it. What I can’t understand is what exactly you want.” Wong said defiantly. She was well aware that she was in no position to argue with this man or the organization he represented.
“Mdm. Wong, these charges will not go away. There is proof and there are witnesses. I sense, however, that you are a cooperative person and that you are not the mastermind. Someone put you up to this, someone who used you and whom we want more than you. If you can help us find the ultimate mastermind behind this I can guarantee that you will be given protection.”
“It’s a very clever game you play Mr. Pereira. I will play with you but I need some assurances.”
“I can give very little. If you are cooperative then we can help bring the greater criminal to justice. Then we can see what we can do for you. Chances are no charges will be brought at all. Assurances I’m afraid I am not in a position to give.”
“My daughter. She must not be a part in this. She must not know.”
Pereira was a family man himself with two daughters. He well understood the position of a parent. He was after all just doing his job.
“Your daughter will be kept out of this as far as possible. Where can we find William Kong?”
“He has houses in many countries.”
“Tell me where.”
Colin noticed the article about Mdm. Wong and his sharp sense for the unusual was alerted. Why the hell go after some poor bitch he thought. The other item of interest in the damn paper was the fleeing of Singapore dissident Lee Soon Lee, ex government, ex opposition, ex Singaporean. The papers had managed to deprive him of his birthright. Bastards, Colin cursed. He was on his way to Richard’s place at Passfield when he was sidetracked by Derek Lim also of LSE economics whom he met in the lobby. He was with a rather attractive looking girl in a red jacket and blue jeans.
“My sister. Hui.” Derek introduced the two. Colin was quite impressed.
“Hi Colin. So you study at the LSE with my brother.” She had an infectious smile and an effervescent character which made her even more attractive.
“Yes. You’re at LBS right?”
“Right.”
“Impressive.” Colin acknowledged. “By the way I was going to Richard’s, have you seen him?”
“No. He’s just down the corridor.” Derek pointed out and the three went to G2 where they found Richard busy surfing some pornographic sites. He was a bit embarrassed when the girl who was a total stranger peeked at his PC monitor and gave a little laugh.
“You’re a horny one aren’t you?” She remarked. Richard looked to Colin and Derek for a clue.
“My sister Hui Lin. The vocal one.” Derek assisted.
“Hey Rick, what the fuck you surfing there?” Colin asked angling for a better view. Richard shut down the browser.
“Bestiality and necrophilia. Thank you for spooking our new acquaintance.” Richard replied sardonically.
“Sorry about that Hui Lin. It’s one of my vices.”
“Hey no problem. You want see girls and horses you go ahead. This is quite a set up you have here.” Lin said referring to the computers. “What do you do?”
“Economics and pornography.” Came the quick reply. She laughed infectiously and everyone joined in.
“Check this out.” Colin said and tossed a copy of the Straits Times to Richard. He caught the offending rag and looked at the front page.
“What am I looking for?”
“The pimp. Look at it. Do you think it belongs on the front page of the foreign edition?”
“Yes it does.”
“I suspect you’re beginning to think like me.”
Colin began to explain for the benefit of Derek and min the theory that everything in the media was controlled by the government, that students abroad were under constant monitoring, that the political stability of the country was guarded to the point of paranoia. He turned out sounding pretty paranoid himself.
“OK so we know they have a hidden agenda, so what’s this story all about?” Lin asked.
“I don’t know.” Colin replied candidly. It troubled him.
“You’re Malaysian right?” Derek asked.
Colin nodded.
“You shouldn’t get involved in this matter. It’s a Singapore thing. Can you imagine what would happen if they found out you were trying to dig up dirt on them. It isn’t just an exciting adventure anymore. It’ll be an incident. The MSS and SEAC will have another big fight.
“This article was put here to be read by as many people as possible. It could be to punish this poor woman or someone she knows and to punish them real bad. Poor sods.”
Derek had a class and had to leave. He warned them again that that type of talk was dangerous for people so close to the country.
“What’s with Derek?” Colin asked lighting his first since entering the room. “I thought he shared our views.”
“He does, he’s just being discreet. Discretion is after all the better part of valor.” Richard said.”
“Whatever happened to guts?” Lin asked rhetorically.
“Colin is always carefully neutral. Rick have you ever committed to anything in your life?”
“I have but I’m not telling you.” Richard himself bummed a cigarette off Colin who also offered one to Hui Lin. “Colin, I’d be a bit careful of I were you. Your family business is in the east after all. Just lie low. Say what you please but only to really good friends.”
“Like us.” Lin said. They had known her for less than half an hour.
“Lin. We hardly know you.”
“I’m Malaysian.”
“I have seen some Malaysians. You’d never know where their loyalty lay.” Colin commented dryly. “Look I got to meet with Mahmud. I wonder what he’s going to say about this.”
“Colin. SEAC may be a foil for the MSS but its still full of MSS people. When you make allegations as serious as these and you’re dealing with governments as intolerant as these I’d advise caution. Please. Not everyone is on your side. As you know. Actually there’s someone I want you to meet. Next week perhaps.”
“I’ll be careful. Who by the way?”
“TC Koo.”
“Ok. Next week. I got to go see Mahmud. How about lunch?”
“OK.”
Colin left in a hurry. He just had an idea and he didn’t want to say anything until he’d tested it out. It left Lin and Richard in a smoky room.
“Is all this smoke bothering you?” Richard asked as he turned on the expeller.
“I wouldn’t be blowing on a cigarette if I was would I?” Lin replied blowing some his way. “What are all these computers for anyway, you don’t need these to run econometric models. These are more of an IT research lab.”
“Virology. I can’t say any more. How about you? What do you do?”
“MBA. LBS. I used to work at BT.”
“Great. I feel very outclassed here.” Richard admitted with a smile.
“Actually the reason I’m going back to school is because I lost my job. It’s been that kind of time in Malaysia. Well in ASEAN.”
“I’m sorry. That’s tough. What did you do at BT?”
“Corporate. Really boring shit.”
“I think what you have here is pretty cool. You’re maths specialist right?”
“I read economics. I dabble in maths.”
“My brother told me you also work for some big company.”
“Sheerluck. I advise them on economics when I’m not bumming around.”
“Sheerluck. They don’t employ many do they? Isn’t it a charity?”
“It is. Lin, you look a lot like someone I used to know.”
“Really? Who?”
“A friend.”
“A lover?” Lin teased but pretty much guessed from his manner that she had struck a raw nerve.
“Yes. A lover. How do you like London?” Richard tried to change the subject.
“It’s alright. This is not my first time you know. I used to come here on work.” She felt at once touched by that tentative retreat, that little glimpse of sensitivity. “Tell me about your lover.”
“We’ve only just met Lin. I usually wait at least 24 hours before I start sharing my neuroses.”
She laughed that wonderful radiant laugh again.
Colin was at Mahmud’s room on the third floor of Passfield. He had called in to discuss SEAC business regarding the possibility of getting the Malaysian Deputy Prime Minister who was passing through London to speak at the Old Theatre. The DPM was on a particularly tight schedule and it would take some doing. Fortunately they had some connexions through a chap called Hisham who was a friend of the DPM’s family. During their meeting they were interrupted by Junita who was the resident Malay babe. Colin was immediately interested. Junita had come by to chat with Mahmud who had the position of de facto counselor and mentor to whoever needed it.
“What’s up Junita?” Colin asked the attractive Malay girl.
“My PC crashed. Can you help me fix it?”
Colin wasn’t about to hang around with a boring and stupid masters student when he could be chatting up a babe. They were out of Mahmud’s room in a jiffy so to speak.
They wound their way to the second floor to S3 overlooking the courtyard. Colin had not been in any rooms facing inwards and h found the view quite distasteful and rather dark. He helped himself to the seat in front of the PC and booted up. Junita took a seat behind him and looked on. The PC booted up properly leaving them facing the internet access page.
“Seems OK Junita. What did you say was wrong?”
“I can’t access the LSE net. I need to read my mail. There were also a couple of files I sent from school back to this c-drive. I really need to get them.”
Colin tried to logon but encountered the same problem, the server was asking for a password as if the password Junita had provided was wrong or had expired. She insisted that it had not. Colin was at a loss as to what to do but he knew someone who could. He called Richard from his cellular and asked Richard to have a go.
“By the way, is Lin still there?”
“Nope. She’s gone. Why? You like her?”
“No, you can have her.”
“Thanks, let me fix this one for you and I’ll call back.”
Richard had expected the need for monitoring the LSE net and so he had seeded the V1 virus into the net the night before. He instructed V1 to bring up the login logout record. What he saw was a corrupted log. A virus had destroyed much of the log and had created quite by chance the impression that the user was still logged on. He instructed V1 to patch up the log and log off the user. That done he called Colin.
“Login.” Richard said and hung up.
Colin logged in successfully and turned the keyboard over to Junita.
“Thanks Colin.” Junita said. She looked absolutely luscious standing in front of him bent over to reach the keyboard. “Who is this hacker you know?”
“Richard Chang. He’s the Singaporean in G2.”
He was staring at her intently and he couldn’t control himself much longer. Junita turned unexpectedly and met his gaze. It stunned him that she had caught him staring at her tits. Colin decided to take the brazen approach and reached out to touch Junita’s breasts. She slapped him full across the face. They were both as stunned as one another and stood face to face. The slap stung painfully but he was still incredibly aroused, perhaps more so. The girl advanced upon him slapping him again. He let her without defending himself but stood his ground. They were face to face now close up against one another. She grabbed Colin by the shoulders and kissed him violently turning him on no end. He returned the embrace eagerly tonguing her mouth and licking her lips. Her hands massaged her own breasts as she tore her apron dress off urgently. This was going to be good Colin thought. This was going to be fucking good. Suddenly she shoved him hard away from her and began to squeeze her breasts. She moved one hand down to her panties and massaged her cunt through them. He almost came in his fucking jeans which were giving him a hard time by not coming off fast enough. That brown sex built bitch presented herself in front of him, a finger in her cunt and a hand on her breast screwing herself into a sexual frenzy. Colin’s hard on was really getting in the way of the fucking fly buttons now. Fuck jeans. She was so oily brown and firm, so young and ripe, so , so illegal, so sinful and dirty. He wanted so badly to fuck this girl. The jeans came off and he pounced on her pushing her onto her bed.
He had lain in bed beside Junita until she whispered the words ‘I love you’ in his ears. The feeling of cold dread fell on him and he quickly excused himself on the pretext of meeting a friend. He didn’t want to think what she must have thought but made a hasty exit after climbing rather unsteadily into his clothes. He stumbled out of her room and headed for Richard’s.
“I just fucked Junita.” Colin announced as he barged in. The AI security system had taken his palm print of the door handle, fired a laser into his eye and noted that he was alone. It flashed a warning to Richard who voice authorized the entry with a curt ‘Come in’.
“Very good.” Richard replied with scant notice. He was still staring at his PC monitor. “Was she good?”
“Until she said something about love.”
“Then you fucked off. You’re a bastard you know. Give us all a bad name.”
“What are you up to?”
“Something new. Testing a new virus. Pretty cool stuff, have a look.”
Colin took a seat next to Richard and peered at the monitor, a low rad 42 inch flat screen suspended from the ceiling.
“OK What are w looking at?”
“Oh this is just the interface. Nothing to look at. What it does, however, is a little bit more impressive. Travels through wires. Travels through cellular networks, radio signals you name it. The coolest thing was getting it to travel through a power cable riding on a sine wave. The virus carries with it a sort of a noise filter. It uses it to filter itself out of an alien signal. When it wants to hide it collapses on top of the carrier signal and becomes noise. When it’s active it filters itself out of the noisy signal. Very difficult to trace. We had an even better design but it took up substantial resources. This new virus called V1.1 version 1.1 how original, is meant to work with V-0. V Zero is hell to manage because we have to keep a copy constantly evolving on our server here.”
“Didn’t know you had a server here.”
“It’s in the Sheerluck Hall building. I am seeding the Singapore universities network. Should spread to the entire island in a matter of seconds.”
The email message was the first truly anonymous one Mickey had ever seen. Usually there was a blind address but in this case the space for the address was completely blank. It was not a standard text message but was taken directly from a publisher authoring software and it displayed the Straits Times foreign edition front page from the week before. Realisation came slowly for Mickey but it came any way. Her heart sank slowly without shock or surprise, merely dread. She saw her mother’s picture in the newspaper. It was taken outside their house and she was in cuffs. Mickey sat transfixed, unable to act. She knew the allegations were untrue as she frequented the salons and knew all the staff quite well. It was a frame up or a mistake. It was a very unlikely mistake. Why? Why a frame up? She looked at the date of arrest and realised at once why she had not received any telephone calls the last weekend and why her Aunt Lisa had blocked her call. Her first thought was to call home but she wondered of perhaps her mother had a good reason for not calling her. She decided to wait but she needed to talk to someone. She needed a friend but she wanted also to have her privacy. The fear set in later and a tear fell from the corner of her eye. She knew enough not to call home.
In her stupor Mickey made her way to Passfield via the University of London Union building past a quaint little Indian Restaurant that she’d tried before. On that grey day the warm orange red lights that glowed from inside the restaurant beckoned but she had other concerns. She walked up to Passfield in a daze not noticing the students whom she might have known pass her by. She climbed her way to the third floor and knocked on Daniel’s door. He welcomed her cheerily and offered her some tea.
“Daniel. My mother’s been arrested for something she didn’t do.” She blurted. It was not something Daniel expected and his first thought was that it was a case of tax evasion or some similarly acceptable crime.
“On what charge?”
“Pimping.”
She could no longer control her emotions and tears ran down from her eyes. Otherwise she was still composed.
“She’s innocent, I know. I know her business, I helped in it. I can’t understand.”
Daniel got up to comfort her. He hugged her and wiped her tears with his hand. The human touch which Mickey had lacked for so long broke her fragile façade of stoicism and she began to sob.
“I’m sure it’s a mistake Michelle.”
“No mistake. It’s in the Straits Times. Front page of the weekly foreign edition. I recognize her picture, the name is correct, then name of the company is correct. There was no mistake. She’s innocent and there is no mistake. This is a frame. I just don’t know what for.”
Chan Boon Yang sat in a Vectra parked on Endsleigh Street diagonally across Passfield opposite the UCL examination halls. He had followed Mickey from Canterbury Hall. He had almost lost her when she went off the road and cut across the buildings. Fortunately he had guessed her destination and gone ahead. He noted the time of her entry and sat back to a sandwich and coffee. In the passenger seat a notebook PC was online. A search was underway of internet connections made in the last 5 minutes from LSE networked computers located at Passfield Hall. It registered but three hits one of them T1. Chan saved the search results and called up the user data of the three users. Daniel Tan caught his attention as the only Asian of the three. The name looked familiar and for a moment he stopped to recollect. He was one of theirs. How convenient.
Up in T1 Daniel was logged on and surfing to the Straits Times on line page where he recalled from the archives the headlines of the issue before at Mickey’s request. It was exactly as she said it was. Daniel could see the resemblance between Mickey and her mother. He read the text carefully absorbing every word. It was very clear what had happened.
“Daniel who could do this? Why would anyone do this to us?”
“I don’t know. I know that very few people can fool the Singapore police. I’m inclined to believe that this may be the doing of a government agency. It’s either that or it’s the best frame up in the world. Did your mother have enemies?”
“Not that I know of. She was friendly with almost everyone she met.”
“Like her daughter.” Daniel remarked turning back to give her a tender look. She could only manage a weak smile. “Michelle. I like you a lot.”
Daniel wished at once that he could have retracted that. Her reaction was surprising to both Daniel and herself. She leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek. As she pulled away Daniel took her hand and kissed the back f it.
“You mean a lot to me.”
“I need to save my mother.” Mickey replied evenly. “That’s what I need to do right now.”
“I’ll help you Michelle. Just tell me.”
“I don’t know what to do Daniel.”
“I know someone we can go to. Steven Loke.” Daniel suggested though he really was grasping at straws.
“The Freespeech.com webmaster? Why?”
“It’s a start. He’s quite well connected. Let‘s try.”
Kazakhstan today detonated its first nuclear device in a test that surprised intelligence agencies around the world. The test was detected by geocentric weather satellites which happened to be overhead at the time of the testing. Seismic readings were also recorded as far as India and China. The Kazakh government has said in an unofficial statement that it supports nuclear nonproliferation but is testing weapons if defence. Official protests have been lodged by the US and most European countries. The Russian view is as yet uncertain. China has called the act, a degree short of declaration of ill intent. India denounced the test as muscle flexing.
The news of Kazakhstan’s entry into the nuclear power club was appalling news for the world. Immediately the 24 hour futures exchanges reacted very negatively with the Standard and Poors 500 futures in European trading plunging some 10%. European bourses reacted accordingly losing between 10 to 12 % in that day. When New York opened there would be hell to pay.
Colin and Richard were busy playing an on line computer game when the news struck. The second server sounded an alert and brought up the CNN news page. Other news sources were queued behind it in case they were required. Richard paused his game and went to check the other screen.
“Colin, bad news I’m afraid. In a few minutes this place will be inundated with telephone calls. Let’s go down to the bar.”
“What’s up?”
“Some shit. Kazakhstan just test detonated a nuke. We never knew they had nukes. Give me a hand with the notebook PC.”
The two guys headed for the bar notebook PCs in hand. At the stairs they saw Michelle and Daniel coming down from the upper floors.
“Daniel. What’s happening?” Colin asked.
Daniel was a bit surprised to see Richard and Colin though he really shouldn’t have as both were pretty much permanent fixtures at Passfield. He muttered something about taking a walk and went by. Mickey simply smiled politely.
“Daniel.” Richard stopped him in his tracks. “There’s some big news on the wire. Apparently Kazakhstan just tested a nuke. Looks likely to destabilize things in Asia very quickly.”
“When?” Mickey asked.
“10 minutes tops. Michelle are you OK?” Richard noticed her puffy eyes.
“Yes. I’m fine.”
“You look like you need sleep.”
“No I’m fine. Look we got to go. I’ll call you.”
Chan saw the pair emerge from Passfield and head down south. He pulled out a camera and snapped a couple of shots with the telephoto. That done he gunned up the car and sped off towards Marylebone.
Inside Richard and Colin proceeded down to the bar where Mitzi was tending bar. It would be a long day and night. The first to call was from the Sheerluck office. Head of Investments wanted a chat. Next was the school which was holding an emergency meeting to prepare for interviews with television stations. Richard was invited to give his two pence. He called his Investment Officer and told him to hold fire until after the meeting at school later that evening.
“Colin. This is troubling but really all the discussions and analyses are crap. Lives are at stake and people are going to talk about the economic and financial effects. This is crap. Sheerluck was not designed to operate like this. Smith is on his own. We’re going to figure out how this is going to pan out and then document it. It’s not our affair.”
“There’s a greater force at work here.” Colin said, his overactive imagination getting the better of him.
“Yeah? What?”
“There’s been shit happening in Asia. First the collapse of the economies then the social problems, the social unrest, the political fragility, then China. China is growing in influence. We hoped she could pull Asia out of the shit hole but three years on and China’s gone the way of Japan.”
“Are you saying this is all related. That would be pushing the limits of human imagination a bit.”
“Not related. A chaotic coincidence. Chance. Random events are like that, you should know.”
“They cluster. Yes. So what can we do? Sit back?”
“I don’t know what we can do. We need to weather the storm, understand the forces at play. The forces of nature are not just storms and floods, the forces of nature are in the numbers as well.”
“Very good
Colin. How do I tell people that. You want to make them understand you got to do
better than that. Anyway on our side we’re going to try to piece together the
puzzle. For whatever that’s worth.”
Richard was impressed at his friend’s imagination, or was it insight. He spoke
a truth that was more profound than Richard had credited him for and Richard was
only just beginning to understand. The forces of nature were in the numbers as
well. OK.
The first signs of tension in Asia began in the mid 90’s with little squabbles over territory or petty remarks about each other. China it was always believed was the central threat to regional security and as always the threat is also the key to stability. It was the US policy toward China that resulted in some semblance of stability as the economies of Asia nose-dived. This at a time of Japan’s rising was a strategy of consummate skill and even better luck. In the latter half of the decade it was minor skirmishes that dominated the military scene and mostly civil unrest both in the Philippines with the murder of the Prime Minister by what the subsequent PM called US CIA backed terrorists, and Indonesia after elections in 1999 proved to be a complete farce and the electorate showed strength in resolve refusing to be led by mad dictators or generals with conquest in mind. The one event that was glossed over was the testing of nuclear devices by China. In the mid to late nineties both India and Pakistan had an active nuclear program and both tested nukes in shows of muscle. Pointless though they were they encouraged China to follow suit and the Chinese arsenal far eclipsed their south western neighbours’. The question was why countries whose enmity had abated over the years would want to begin a campaign of antagonism and there was no clear answer. The US State Department’s stand was to engage all parties in trade and commerce in the hope of creating some common ground. It worked to a large extent so that by the end of 1999 an accord was reached under which the treaty members which included most of Asia excepting the Commonwealth of Independent States to the North and West agreed to ban nuclear testing and over a schedule of 10 years to reduce all arsenals to zero proportionately. The accord of course was signed and agreed under the assumption that there was no other nuclear threat in the region Russia excepting. This turned out to be a gross underestimation. The Kazakhstan incident would precipitate a number of things foremost the willingness of treaty states to abide by the treaty and the increase in mistrust around the region. Beyond that it was a most unpredictable situation.
Chan arrived at his South Kensington flat to a rather unnerving surprise. Daniel and Mickey were waiting inside the restaurant for him. Apparently they had left Passfield to come and see him. As he had never met Michelle Wong it was reasonable to assume that the boy had brought her to him. He had not been asked to, in fact he had no clue that eventually that might have been his mission but here they were. He understood at once what he was about to face. It was a precarious position being face to face with a potential target.
“Mr. Chan.” Daniel began but Chan silenced him with a gesture.
“Upstairs.”
The three of them filed up the stairs to Chan’s office. Michelle was a bit sceptical about the whole thing. Daniel had told her about this man whom he said was connected with the government and would be able to at least figure out what was happening at home with her mother. He looked decent enough but there was a certain menace to the man like a shadow of dread. Perhaps it was his gaunt appearance and dead eyes. Perhaps it was her mistrust for anything to do with the government. She was not in a position to refuse help. The upstairs office was well furnished and cozy. Chan motioned them to sit and then sat on the desk himself.
“Mr. Chan. This is Michelle Wong.”
She shook his hand which was cold and firm. He did not speak.
“We need your help Mr. Chan.”
“How can I help.” He looked the cold calculating vulture when in fact inside he was busy contemplating his options. This girl whom he badly wanted to distance himself from was now in his office about to ask his assistance. This very girl whom he was supposed to watch and monitor was face to face with him. Mickey wanted badly to ask his assistance, to spill her thoughts and fears to him. She kept quiet and allowed Daniel to do the talking for her. After all she knew not this man.
Chan was given a copy of the newspaper and a brief explanation of the situation. Mickey maintained that her mother was innocent. Well she would thought Chan but he knew the truth.
“Michelle. I will make some discreet inquiries but of course I cannot guarantee anything.” Chan offered.
What kind of inquiries was he going to make? Both Daniel and Mickey understood Chan’s dilemma. Even if he was connected in the government his questions would put him in a dangerous position. Only Mickey’s concern for her mother allowed her to ask this man to risk his own safety.
“Mr. Chan. If you ask, it will be dangerous for you won’t it?” Mickey asked in concern.
“I will ask the right questions. For now I want you to go about your business, act as if you know nothing, which at this point is true. If I find anything or if I don’t I will get back to you in 48 hours.”
Mickey and Daniel thanked Chan Boon Yang profusely as they made to leave. Out on the street on their way to the tube station Mickey had to ask Daniel about Mr. Chan.
“How did you come to know this guy Chan, Daniel?”
“It’s part of a mentoring scheme. Part of my scholarship. I can call in on Chan whenever I need, if ever I’m in need of help, anything. Apparently our businessmen abroad sometimes volunteer to provide such assistance and our sponsors put us in touch with them. Probably a way of keeping tabs on us as well. Make sure we don’t just take the money and run.”
“Daniel. Thanks.”
Mickey took his arm and squeezed his hand. They stopped just outside the station and for just a while the problems of the world could wait. It was not something Daniel was used to, the exchange of unspoken emotion and he could not tell if it was love or gratitude. He hoped it was the former. Daniel hugged her by way of comfort and she returned the hug. It was a cold cold day but neither of them felt it.
“Michelle. I’m so sorry.”
“Thanks for being here for me.”
And she did feel for him.
“I know it’s not the best time but I have to tell you.”
“I know. I know how you feel. I just can’t deal with it now. Not until I know my mom is safe. You’re a good friend Daniel and sometimes I feel for you. We’ve known each other some time now. I need time.”
“I want to help.”
Chan knew very well the circumstances surrounding the arrest of Mdm. Wong Lee Lin. The complete circumstances. What he did not know was what or how much to tell the girl. There was nowhere to go for advice regarding the matter either. He was on his own in this decision and it was a difficult one.
William Chang got news of the arrest of his former lover rather late. Unable to confide in his wife or children he summoned one of his friends in the Chinatown triads, a respected lawyer by the name of Alex Wu. Alex made a good living entirely on the business of his triad associates. Sunday night he went to visit William at his Holland Park house. William called him into his office.
“Alex. See this.” William handed him the newspaper. Alex took it and read it understanding at once the significance of the woman in the story. He had seen too many of these long lost lovers and was the epitome of discretion.
“She has been wrongfully accused. Alex, you know why I had to leave Singapore and you know that there are those who still look for me even here.”
“They use this woman to get to you.”
“Yes, but she has done nothing. She is a girl I knew twenty years ago.”
“When was your last contact with her?”
“More than ten years ago. But I send her money from time to time, I helped her set up a business. A good business, an honest honourable business. These are lies.”
“We know that much. You have to turn your back on her.” Alex advised. He knew it was hard advice and would be ignored but he gave it all the same.
“I cannot ignore her because she is an innocent. How can I help her?”
“I cannot see how. She is in the hands of a regime that wants you in their custody. Very difficult. We have some contacts in Singapore but none with the power to do anything for her. There really is nothing we can do.”
“Find out all you can. Is she alright, how are they treating her. That sort of thing.”
The two men talked for about two hours covering every angle from political pressure from China contacts to a rescue plan. It was evident to William that he was not in a position to do anything but he had to try. Alex Wu left William in a state of quiet reflection. The woman in the paper had been his confidant through the early days, the difficult times and the better ones. She was his lover for a good six years. When the legitimate business grew he had to leave and she had been gracious in parting, asking nothing of him. He didn’t even know he had a daughter until a year after she was born and he went to visit Lin. They were no longer lovers then but harbored a deep love for one another. It was then he remembered that he had given her money to start her salon. He had often seen his daughter though she had never seen him. It was always from a distance, from a car across the street mostly. He cursed his luck and his unwise allegiances.
Detective Mills had been sitting a good two hours in the bloody Rover and his arse hurt from the hard seat. At last he saw Alex Wu reemerge from the Kong residence. Mills partner Dempsey snapped a couple of shots of Alex Wu as he climbed into his Jaguar.
“What do you make of it Jerry. Is Kong still active?”
“Pat. If only I knew.” Mills chucked his fag out the window. “So far William Kong’s been a model citizen. He might be trying to start something but I doubt it. The incumbents are too entrenched and they are his old friends anyway. No sense starting a fight over money at his age.”
“And wealth.” Dempsey added.
“And wealth.” Mills echoed. “There’s a little more to this than meets the eye. In two weeks if we don’t find anything this case is on the shelf.”
“Do we check out Alex Wu’s connection?”
“We can but I doubt we’ll find anything. Let’s just go the distance anyway.”
Michelle was in her room checking her email and attempting to trace the source of the anonymous email message. She wasn’t sure if it would help any but she had to keep busy and she had to run down every single lead. It was two in the morning and the cold was beginning to acquire a static stationary kind of edge that was particularly uncomfortable. She found that she had forgotten to turn on the additional heating which had to be paid for. Free heating was turned off at 1 in the morning. She found that Richard Chang was on line on the LSE net and tried to call in for a chat. He responded.
Richard: What are you doing up so late?
Mickey: Just checking my mailbox. BTW have you ever received mail with no sender?
Richard: What do you mean no sender
Mickey: No sender. Not anonymous, the box was blank?
Richard: Strange. Never seen anything like that. Can you trace through the mail server?
Mickey: How do you do that?
Richard: Access the mailbox server via the net admin page. You need to logon. You already know when you received the msg right?
Mickey: No.
Richard: No time received either?
Mickey: I’d rather assume that that’s been compromised.
Richard: Compromised? Why the cloak and dagger?
Mickey: Can’t say. Not over the net.
Richard: If not urgent can drop by my place tomorrow 0800.
Mickey: 0800 too early. What do you need to work with?
Richard: Password. Call me on cellular if I’m out.
Daniel reflected on the events of the previous day. He began to wonder if Mickey was really right about her mother’s innocence and the consequences of her innocence. It was in that late hour that Daniel realized that Chan had known about Mickey long before the previous day’s meeting. He had to for he had requested information on a group of students and had asked for an update only a week ago. Daniel fought the desire to leave the thought to another day, somehow, he too was involved in a way he did not understand. He shut down the computer terminating his net connection because he wasn’t really concentrating anyway. Since the beginning of the first year he had supplied updates on the general student population in LSE as well as on individual students as well. The latest request regarded Mickey and was quite recent as well. The information was mostly public information and was not sensitive anyway. The last request had been a list of students with the name Wong, their personal particulars and courses applied for. A harmless request really. Was he helping out of guilt or genuine charity? Daniel could not answer his own question. He chose to believe instead that the events of the day were uncorrelated with his activities but mere coincidence. It was feeble he knew but it was good enough distraction.
Richard was down at the bar with a rather sober Colin which was unusual for the time of night. The LSE conference regarding the Kazakh nuclear ability as evidenced by their test was as inconclusive as Richard had expected. The G8 were meeting in Paris in a few hours to further discuss the issue. It was all going to be pointless Richard thought. Kazakhstan would maybe run a few more tests, perhaps face some inoperative sanctions, cool off and shelve the nuclear testing program comfortable in the knowledge that the damn things did indeed work. That knowledge was what they wanted and what they got.
Ng Keng Chye was always in a suit even in his own house. That afternoon he had before him a representative from Fieldstone and Dennis Pereira from the Prosecutor’s office. They sat around a sofa set in Ng Keng Chye’s house in an expensive suburb in Singapore.
“No response regarding Mr. Kong? That is unfortunate.”
“Yes.” Said the Fieldstone man. “We have tried to locate Kong directly and found him in London but we lost him again. Our sources suggest he may have fled to Manchester. We are looking for him there now. His connexions are a bit too strong in the local triads for us to really make any progress.”
“How long do we have to keep Mdm. Wong in custody?” Pereira inquired. While she was at home she was still technically under arrest.
“I think we need a little more publicity. Bring charges and publicize the trial. We convict of course.” Said Ng Keng Chye.
“And if we get no response?” the Fieldstone man said.
“Put the word out through the local triads in London and Manchester. Make sure they do not misunderstand our intentions. In the meantime Mr. Pereira I think we should initiate some action against our own local triads. Pick up the leaders of the Big Three.”
“A full campaign? Should we warn them first via the media?”
“No warning. Bring them in. We’ll discuss the charge later. Probably something painful but not lethal.”
Ng Keng Chye dismissed the two men and retired to his office overlooking the swimming pool. Ng Keng Chye was a successful businessman who built a fortune in the import export business. At least that was how it appeared to the world at large. The truth was that he had many business all of them lucrative. As a director of Tigris Holdings he was also a director of Fieldstone the associate. Since the beginning of the demise of Glory plc Dennis Pereira had been asked by his superiors, who were themselves under orders, to report to Ng Keng Chye. Like a true good hardworking civil servant he asked no questions once his superiors had declared the man kosher.
Mickey was at G2 at 0800 on the dot. She knocked on the door and was greeted with a cheery hello from the speaker behind the door.
“Michelle. Look into the peephole.” The disembodied voice ordered. She complied and was rewarded with a blinding flash in the eye. “Sorry. You can come in now. The flash in the eye was an imaging system that had in that instant photographed her retina for future identification. As she grabbed the door handle to open the door an image of her palm was also taken and stored. The interior of the room was pleasantly warm and Richard was already up and about. He offered her breakfast which he had hijacked from the kitchen earlier in the morning.
“Scrambled, Sunny side up which do you prefer?” Richard asked as he set out the cutlery.
“Scrambled. I don’t suppose you have Nasi Lemak?” Mickey asked hopefully.
“I only do that Fridays. Have a seat. I hope I didn’t frighten you with that peephole thing.”
“No. What is it.?” Mickey took her place at the table in the centre of the room. On the other side of that same table were three monitors and two computers faster than the University’s computer laboratory’s supercomputers put together. They looked innocent enough.
“It’s part of the security system. The system captured your retina capillary patterns and your palm print so next time I know you when you visit. Tell me about your problem.”
Mickey did, beginning with the enigmatic email and then her earliest memory of her mother to the day she sent Mickey off at the airport and her arrest apparently on charges of vice.
“She sounds like a wonderful woman. So her only connections with vice were ages ago.”
“Yes. And they’re over.”
“These charges are new. I’ll say outright that these occurrences are not unheard of in the countries in that region. Our country included.”
Richard cleared up the remains of breakfast but Mickey insisted on helping telling him to logon under her password and check her account while she did the dishes. He complied and began sifting through her log history.
“Michelle. I hope you know that Daniel Tan has been all over this log up and down.”
“Don’t worry I know. I asked him for help before. He couldn’t find a thing.”
“Mickey, tab, soc66093. Mickey?”
“As in mouse.”
“Wait a minute. I thought you’d logged in already. How did you without my password? Wait a minute, how did you know my password?” She dried her hands and came around the table to see what Richard was up to.
“I have a friend on the net. Helps me access stuff all the time.” Richard went through her mailbox. The trail was a very interesting one. A blind address was not usually allowed by ISPs.
“I seem to have found it. Is this the email?” It had a blind address and so Richard proceeded with the trace. In message had been sent by an anonymous server in Singapore. Richard traced the address back to a company called Fortuna Antiques in the Bukit Timah area in Singapore. He saved a list of the company directors identities onto a file for future reference.
“Know any of these guys?”
Mickey scanned through the list and shook her head.
“I’ll do a more thorough check later. Do you know if your mom had any enemies?”
“I suppose everyone does but mom? Few. She was not the kind to collect many enemies. Then again all you need is one powerful one.”
“You found out about this through the email and the newspaper so I take it she hasn’t contacted you since. When is your next contact?”
“Every Sunday morning. She missed a call and I called back but an aunt of mind told me she was out. I think she was lying for the benefit of us all.”
“You know you might be a target as well.” Richard postulated matter-of-factly.
There was no appropriate response to that. They just looked at each other.
“This is a government project of course. You know that.” Richard continued. “Which means in all probability we cannot help her until they get what they want.”
“I want her safe. At all costs.” Michelle said with a determination that was inspiring.
“She is safe. Paradoxically her safety is guaranteed as long as they do not have what they want and when they do get what they want her use as a hostage will have expired. She will be freed.”
“She knows too much now about what they do. They won’t let her go.” Mickey argued.
“I think you’re wrong. This is not the first time this sort of thing has occurred and each time they have honored their part of the deal. I think she’ll be alright. Do you really want to mess things up?”
“Richard I want to fuck things up. How dare they.” There was genuine anger there.
“I don’t see how I can help you Michelle. I’d like too but I don’t know how.”
“You’ve helped me a lot Richard. More than I could hope. Thanks. Can you help me track down those men?” Mickey referred to the list.
“I will. I’ll let you know at dinner. Why don’t we have dinner. We’ll get Colin. He’s a great believer in conspiracies.”
“Dinner then. Eight?”
“Done. Mind if I call you Mickey?”
“Only my family call me that. And my college friends. It would be strange.”
Richard gave her a wry smile.
“Mind if I call you Rick?”
When Mickey had left the room Richard immediately called Colin on his cellular. As usual his in the bar having been up all night. He came quickly when Richard told him that it was about the woman in the newspaper.
“How do you think we can get her out?” Colin asked as he came through the door chucking his coat onto the back of a chair that had been placed conveniently.
“I don’t know. That’s why I need your ideas.” Richard said motioning him to come to the PC monitor.
“Take a look at this. These are some of the chaps who may be responsible. By the way why do you want to get the woman out?”
“To find out what the bugger they’re up to this time. To thwart the bastards. The list is endless.” Colin said sarcastically.
“That woman is Michelle Wong’s mother would you believe?”
“Incredible.”
“She received an anonymous email and I mean anonymous and she wanted me to trace it. We traced it back to this company, Fortuna Antiques, Singapore. What’s an antique shop with a paid up less than 100,000 doing with it’s own high speed server?”
“If they want her mother presumably they may want her too.”
“Presumably. Let’s work on the mother first. Any way we can get her out?”
“Apart from sending an army?”
“There is a way. Michelle is probably in school now. We’re having dinner tonight. I’ll get Nick to baby-sit her for a couple of days.”
“Am I coming tonight?”
“You like Roast duck?”
“Oh fuck yes.”
Dinner went well at a Chinatown restaurant after which the group consisting of Mickey Colin Nick and Richard adjourned to the Rendezvous Club, a casino on Mayfair. It was agreed that Nicole and Mickey would take a holiday in Paris while Richard and Colin attempted to sort out the mess involving Mickey’s mother Mdm. Wong. Richard was explicit about his instructions to the two girls. They would tell no one of their departure, their passports would be used to register them in a hotel in Normandy while they would remain at the Crillon in Paris. They would use corporate credit cards only and never their own under any circumstances. Later that evening after they had dropped Mickey off at College Hall and Colin at Passfield Nick and Richard went back to Canterbury Hall to Nick’s place.
“Take care of the girl Nick. She make look tough but it’s been a trying time for her.”
“I will. Is she your girlfriend?”
“No. I think she’d seeing Daniel. All the same don’t let him know where she is until we can find out more.”
“Can I seduce her?”
“I’d rather you didn’t.”
It was unusual for Richard to be in such a hurry to leave and Nick sensed it.
“What will happen? One of those infamous projects again?”
“It’s just a fact finding mission for now.”
“You sure?”
She worried about him so much sometimes.
“Just try to enjoy yourselves and relax.”
Richard kissed her tenderly on the cheek and left.
Early the next morning Mickey and Nick left for Heathrow for the flight to Paris CDG. Both girls got to know each other better on the journey. By the time they checked into the Crillon at noon they were best of friends. As Mickey showered Nick waited outside and reminded herself that Richard had ordered her not to seduce the girl. She couldn’t help it as Mickey was a very attractive girl. That and the fact that Nick had been celibate for the past half year and not of her choosing. Mickey gave her a start when she came out of the bathroom in her bathrobe.
“Are you hungry Nick? I’m starving and since Richard is paying for all this how about some room service?”
Nick had to really control herself.
“I’m going to have a shower first. I thought maybe we could go for a walk and find some food outside.”
Nick had to get them both out of the room before she pounced on the nubile young girl.
“OK but hurry. I’m really starving.”
Nick collected her bathrobe and went to take a shower. Under the hot stinging pelting of the water her sexual tension found relief in her fingers as she masturbated herself silly. She was a little unsteady coming out of the shower, still quivering from her self induced orgasm. The wanking didn’t help. Nor did the sight of Mickey’s long slender yet slightly muscular legs which showed from beneath her t shirt which was large enough so she night not have been wearing anything underneath. She was lying in bed reading a brochure.
“Feeling better.” Mickey asked looking up at a very flushed and excited Nick.
“Not really.” Nick replied. She dropped her bathrobe and climbed into bed with Mickey who seemed not to be bothered by a nude girl beside her. “Just a bit cold. What are you reading?”
“Paris map actually. There’s some good shopping around the block. Look if you’re not feeling too good we can order in no problem.”
With her eyes burning desire into Mickey’s uncertain, bewildered ones Nick moved her hand to Mickey’s breast and stoked it through the t shirt eliciting an involuntary sigh of pleasure. Mickey was at once confused and afraid. Afraid of the pleasure that she felt at the touch of another girl’s hand on her breast a pleasure new to her and forbidden. It was at once exhilarating as well as frightening.
“Nick.” Mickey began but was rewarded with a tongue at her lips which she surprised herself by meeting with her own.
“Oh God.” Mickey gasped. “I’m sorry.”
Suddenly Mickey began to sob. She was crying quietly and Nick kissed the tears that fell from her eyes, using her lips to caress every inch of face, to touch her eyelids and to brush lightly against her cheeks. It was a look of yearning that Nick saw in those lovely watery eyes.
“It’s alright Mickey. This doesn’t make you gay.”
Exhausted and hungry the two girls showered again this time together and got dressed to go out. Nick could not forget Richard’s directive. This girl had a boyfriend.
“Rick told me you’re seeing a guy.” Nick asked as they strolled the Rue du Faubourg St. Honore in search of food.
“Not really. He likes me I think but I don’t know. How about Minim’s for a snack?” Mickey suggested as they came to Cardin’s little sister of Maxim’s. The girls got a table inside and Nick immediately lit herself a Marlboro offering one to Mickey who took it gratefully.
“Daniel’s a great guy and I would like a fuck but I don’t know about a relationship.” Mickey declared with her newfound sexuality.
“Even I am not such a slut. I like you Mickey. I think Rick does too. Maybe I’m just too sensitive.”
“You make me feel good Nick. Not just in bed.”
Mickey took Nick’s hand in her own and ran her finger over her knuckles. That made Nick’s heart lurch a little out of love and out of fear of what she had perhaps catalyzed.
The Asiabanc Economic Forum was an annual affair held for the benefit of professional investors and financiers alike. It was usually held in Hong Kong at the headquarters of Asiabanc, Asiabanc Tower. This year at the behest of Sheerluck, one of Asiabanc’s major shareholders the venue was changed at the eleventh hour to Singapore at the Raffles Hotel. Present at the annual conference were financiers and investors from the region and from the rest of the world. It was also one of only two conferences attended by all of ASEAN’s leaders. This year the Chinese delegate was the guest of honour, a conciliatory gesture for the change in venue. Conspicuously absent was the usual Sheerluck representative, Richard Chang who instead sent the head of Sheerluck’s asset management arm, Jonathan Cady.
One of the most prominent bankers present was Arthur Davison of Asiabanc’s asset management arm, GU Asset Management. Davison was one of the elite who owned a large chunk of the company himself. He sold part of it to Asiabanc in a tie up to use the assets of the bank in it’s marketing and distribution channels as well as general financing operations. As one of the elite his words carried much weight and much attention was paid to what he was saying at the conference. It was no secret that among the South East Asian countries, his reputation had been quite notorious as a speculator and destroyer of currencies. While he was hated by the governments in some of the countries his word was still respected in the effect they would have on the investment community, so at the convention despite their differences he mingled easily with the ASEAN ministers. Davison was scheduled to speak at the close of the third day of the conference after the Prime Minister of the host nation and the interest he generated was quite a lot more than the poor PM. At 1830 he began his presentation.
“I have been reviled by many governments as a speculator, which I am from time to time, a malicious destroyer of economies, which I am definitely not since I certainly have not the power, many many wonderful things. It was I think George Soros who was the original angel of death, the first horseman so to speak. The fact is that George and I and many of our colleagues and friends who have been similarly labeled have lost a great deal of money in the markets in the region and are hardly market movers of any force. It’s interesting that countries in all parts of the world mature or emerging are very quick to blame speculators for their currency or stock market woes. Britain did it in 1992, Australia and Japan in 1998, history has many examples. So what happens when a stock market or a currency starts rallying? What if it spikes up and rallies strongly? Speculators? Maybe? But speculators and investors are alike in one respect, both are trying to make money. Both have little market power. Individually. Collectively, however, they make the market. So you could say that the market is the greatest orchestrator of conspiracy ever to exist and the decisions of individuals themselves not having market power have to be based on something that they collectively perceive. If they see a weak economy, they act accordingly, if they see a mispricing, they act accordingly. When one person acts there is no power behind that. It’s when a bunch of people act, that’s how markets are moved.”
Davison was done with that part of the message. It was on to business and how he thought Asia wold recover perhaps faster than the mature markets being into the depression before anyone else. He cited Japan whose economy had actually stabilized and was on the road to recovery, how this was not reflected in the Index as the structure of growth had changed. He patted the governments on the back by saying that he saw good growth prospects coming out of the region and that Asia was still structurally a younger and therefore more malleable economy and thus would be more flexible at the turning point. He even commended the Asian governments for their forthrightness, their commitment to reform, hats off to China and Singapore. It was a bullish speech in the face of a region that had not so much collapsed as it had in the mid 90’s but had stagnated in a moribund state, unable to move in either direction. Still, it drew much applause.
Davison took his seat by the PM who smiled from ear to ear and congratulated him on his speech.
“Mr. Prime Minister, could we have a private word later. After the conference.”
“Sure Arthur. How about my place?”
“I’d rather do it here, I do have to catch a flight out to Tokyo this evening.”
“Very well. At the bar?”
“Alone. It is a sensitive matter.”
The PM was perplexed. It was not a regular request but he was free for the evening and this was an influential man, too influential under these economic circumstances to ignore.
“Of course.”
Half an hour later the PM and Davison went into a room at the hotel accompanied by two of the PM’s bodyguards. Inside the two men sat across an empty table.
“Well. Mr. Davison, what do you wish to discuss?” The PM asked.
“Mr. Prime Minister, this region indeed your country has been through a lot and you’ve done very well. Your human rights record has been a bit in the grey though and I think you can improve in this area.”
“Our human rights record is exemplary.” The PM was getting a bit annoyed. “Where is this going?”
“Some weeks ago a woman was arrested on charges of vice.” Davison looked for a reaction but got none. This may be more difficult than he thought.
“That is our own domestic matter. I warn you sir that you tread on thin ice. This may not go very well for your operations in Singapore.”
“Mr. Prime Minister, I respectfully request that you let this woman go, in the interest of human rights.”
“She is a criminal and her rights are within that. She will be tried and judged fairly in a court of law.”
“We both know that she is innocent. Obviously you have your reasons for detaining her but you are going to have to find an alternative solution. If you pursue this line of action the repercussions will be serious.”
“You sir are in position to threaten me or this government. I can have you arrested under our Internal Security Act and detained indefinitely.”
“You could indeed. Mr. Prime Minister I have no desire to stay here any longer than I have to but I must tell you that I am not alone in this matter. Prominent businessmen in the US and Europe also believe that you are violating this woman’s rights and that she should be released immediately. I’ll put my cards on the table, if she is not released immediately, several things will happen. First of all, all economic aid to Malaysia and Indonesia will be withdrawn. The Sixth and Seventh fleets will leave these waters for areas which require our more immediate attention and assistance. There will be a massive pullout of foreign companies and I will go as far as to name them, HP, IBM, Citigroup, Asiabanc, Shell, BP, the list larger than you think. They will leave immediately and completely. Your currency will be sold down so fast you won’t believe your eyes. Newspapers in the West will run stories against your human rights record and this will include the London Times, the New York Times, all the way to the New Straits Times of your neighbour just so you understand how far our are of influence extends. We won’t be able to apply much in way of political pressure but you can be sure that we will isolate your economy out of the rest of ASEAN. Think about it. Release her in 48 hours or we will initiate these measures. That is all.”
“You cannot blackmail this government over a personal matter or any matter.” The PM retorted. He was a man of reason and a wily one as well. The measures threatened would be crippling if indeed they could be carried out. What he could not fathom was if Davison’s threats had any weight behind them. Those were some pretty extreme threats.
“Good day Mr. President.”
Arthur Davison turned and headed for the door. He was not about to discuss terms with the PM, only to deliver an ultimatum.
“Mr. Davison.” The Prime Minister said at last stopping Davison in his tracks. “I cannot release the woman constitutionally and so my hands are tied. It would be unfortunate, however, if she were to escape from custody and you went ahead with the sanctions you proposed.
“Deliver her to our KL office tomorrow by six.”
The Prime Minister cursed his luck. He had no way of knowing if Davison had the means to implement his threat, he did know, however, of Davison’s market power. In a way the speech that he had made earlier in the day had been part of the threat. Perhaps he should have called his bluff but Davison was not a man to trifle with. Already he had claimed the Sterling pound and the Deutsche mark in previous campaigns. The Prime Minister realized that he was still in a position to rescind. He first needed the counsel of his cabinet.
Ali Kilrathi sat down to tea and biscuits with Ng Keng Chye who was today wearing a smoking jacket and a dress shirt. As usual the air conditioning was positively frigid.
“I advised him not to inform the cabinet.” Ali said. All Keng Chye did was sit and puff on the Monte Cristo. He looked into the distance his eyes a picture of serenity.
“That was wise. The Prime Minister is not in a position to refuse this man. He is not acting alone of course but merely a messenger. Deliver the woman.”
“Is this Davison so formidable that we should comply?”
“No. This is a tactical retreat. It is necessary if we are to discover the identity of our adversary. Besides, there is another.”
“That is already in progress sir.”
At 1240 hrs Mdm. Wong was informed that she was to be moved to Kuala Lumpur. It came as a total surprise to her as then she assumed she would be outside the jurisdiction of the Singapore authorities. She was given an hour to put her things in order and this she did with all speed. The business was put in the hands of Lily Ong, her sister. She herself took some cash with her and one change of clothes. No details of her travel plans were revealed to her and she assumed from her instructions to put her finances in order that it would be an extended trip. Perhaps the conspiracy was an ASEAN one, perhaps she was being sent to her death, or somewhere where a trial was not even an inconvenient cosmetic. She could not tell, her fate lay in the hands of unknown forces. One thing she kept was the whereabouts of her daughter Mickey. She was a fool to assume that Mickey was unknown to the authorities, however. At 1430 hrs Mdm. Wong was escorted by a suited man and taken in a white Volvo to the airport where she was booked on a shuttle flight. Her escort went with her but she had expected more security. All along the way Mdm. Wong was silent not wishing to ask any questions as she expected no answers. When she and the escort made it to Asiabanc Tower she was left at the lobby and was utterly confused. The escort handed her her passport and bade her farewell with a smile. The receptionist looked almost alarmed when she introduced herself and went to make a call. Within minutes a tall distinguished looking Malay gentleman with a sharp looking suit and a goatee appeared.
“Mdm. Wong. Welcome to Malaysia. I am Achmed Said. This way please.” He showed her to a meeting room and offered her a drink. “You are free to go anywhere you please but I suspect you may wish to see your daughter.”
“Why am I here?” Mdm. Wong asked. She was still confused and her suspicions that she was actually a free person were growing.
“Your daughter in London arranged for you to be released and now that you are you are free to go anywhere in the world that you wish. If you like you can o and see her. I think she must be anxious to see you.”
For the past three days Chan Boon Yang had been in contact with Daniel in an effort to find out where Mickey had gone. She had told no one of her little trip to Paris, not even Daniel who had been frantically looking for her. While he was trying his luck at his very own Passfield he came across Colin and inquired if he had seen Mickey which of course he denied. Colin later went to see Richard who was as usual surfing in porno virtual sex land.
“Rick. Sorry to interrupt but when can Mickey and Nick come back. Her boyfriend is getting a bit restless poor chap.”
“Hand me that box will you.” Richard instructed indicating a plain brown card board box. Colin picked it up and tossed it to Richard. “Check this out.” Richard opened the box and extracted a gun. Colin was a bit confused as the box had been extremely light, far too light to contain a gun.
“I thought the box was empty. Where did you get that?”
“Here in London. It’s a standard 9mm but the whole thing is plastic. Ceramic in some places but mostly plastic. It’s heavier loaded of course.”
Richard test fired the hammer then tossed the gun back to Colin whom he was appalled to see almost dropped it.
“Can you get me one?”
“Sure. Keep it. You’ll need ammo and a license though. License for a regular gun of course. You were saying about Daniel.”
“He misses the babe.”
“If Nick is true to form he’s lost her for good.” Rick said sarcastically. He didn’t know how true that statement was. “How about we test fire this baby downstairs.” Richard was obviously enamoured of his new toy.
“You’re bent on shooting of your gun aren’t you? How much did this thing cost anyway?”
“Thousand pounds. Be careful with that thing. Let’s go.”
The two guys went to the basement to the courtyard toting the guns and a little home made target board. Colin stuck the board up with some double sided tape on the wall next to the laundry room and then retreated to where Richard was sighting his gun.
“Don’t forget the silencer, we don’t want o wake the neighborhood.” Richard warned as he lined up the gun to the target and squeezed of three rounds in quick succession.
“Shit.”
He missed the board entirely. Colin took aim and fired of two and hit the target quite centrally. Richard was adjusting the rear sight and when he was done he took aim and fired again.
“Much better. Let’s bugger off before anyone notices.”
The past three days were exciting ones for Nick and Mickey. Apart from enjoying themselves in the cafés and shops in Paris they also continued their torrid affair with total disregard for the consequences that awaited when they went back to London. The call came in the late evening and Nick happened to be the one to answer it.
“Hi Nick. You girls can come home now.” Richard said. “You haven’t seduced her or anything have you?”
The silence told Richard that something had developed between the two girls. His first thought was that the guardian had slipped up and become involved with her charge. The next was that Daniel was about to have his insides kicked out and the third was a sense of loss for he loved Nicole and she had loved someone else. Not that she had ever loved him.
“Nick?” He prompted.
“I’m sorry Rick.” Nick replied in a soft voice. Fortunately Mickey was in the shower and was not there to hear them talk.
“Why did you do it?” Richard asked evenly. He had half expected this.
“Have you seen her? She’s pretty and sexy and we were both lonely.”
“Masturbate.”
“I did. When I came out and saw her I couldn’t stop myself Rick. She didn’t resist either. She loves me Rick.”
Nick knew that that was a mistake. She would come across as the seducer, the user. How could she tell him that it was her nature to love women.
“Rick. If you were lonely and alone with a beautiful woman wearing a t shirt and nothing else lying right beside you, could you resist?”
“I did.”
“What?”
“When you slept over. Look, just come back. Mickey’s mother will be here shortly. I don’t want any more trauma for her mother OK?”
There was a long silence filled with thoughts of words unspoken before they said goodbye.
Mdm. Wong arrived at London Heathrow at 0005 hrs. She had flown in from Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia, spending some 13 hours in the air. The first class seat did not exempt her from feeling tired and stiff. Clearing immigration and customs was easy enough and she emerged to the visitors gallery looking for her contact. For a flight that time of day there was not too much of a crowd and she spotted the uniformed driver with her name on a placard and went up to him.
“Mdm. Wong, welcome to London. He extended his hand in greeting.
“Thank you. I have no luggage just this bag.”
“Don’t worry. Mr. Chang has arranged everything. I’ll take you now to your hotel.”
“Is it a long ride?”
“It can be madam, but not this time of night. You’re booked at the Ritz on Green Park, very nice hotel and you should be able to get some fresh clothes in the morning.”
Mdm. Wong was unaccustomed to riding in the back so she rode up front and chatted with Fred. The pale silver Rolls Royce failed to impress her in the least. In fact she thought it rather old and creaky.
“First time in London ma’am?”
“Yes. It looks very nice.”
“That’s Knightsbridge. Great shopping in the daytime. I’m afraid the rest of London is less glamorous”
Colin Choo was waiting at the Ritz in the lobby. He saw Mdm. Wong come through the doors and went up to greet her and introduce himself. She was a little confused but followed him anyway. Colin checked her in to her room.
“I guess you’re wondering how you came to be here, let me explain a bit. We are a group of students at the LSE. That’s how Michelle came to know us. When your daughter found out about you in the foreign edition of the Straits Times she asked us for help and we happen to have some influential friends so we made a few calls and used some political and economic leverage to get you out. Now I don’t know why you were detained but Michelle’s word that you are innocent is good enough for me. We’d like to find why, however , so that we know if you or Michelle may still be in danger even here. Anyway I’m rambling on and you must be tired.”
“That must be some influential people you know. Where is my Mickey?”
“She is on holiday but she will be back tomorrow. You must be tired so I’ll leave you to rest now. Tomorrow morning we’ll go shopping for some clothes for you and Michelle should be back in the evening. We’ll meet up with another good friend who helped in this and we’ll try to figure out why this happened in the first place.”
“Michelle has good friends.”
Colin gave her his calling card with his contact numbers and bade her good night. He sympathized with Mdm. Wong who had to leave her life and business behind and come to a strange and unfamiliar land. Even though she had been rescued he wondered if it was not still a traumatic experience, the rescue, not the incarceration. All through the rescue Mdm. Wong had been in the dark, not knowing what fate had in store for her at the next turn, not knowing whose hands she was in.
Mickey and Nick arrived LHR 1600 hrs and made their way back to Passfield in the company car. They went directly to G2 to see Richard who was waiting for them. Richard welcomed them back with no sin of the tension between him and Nick. Mickey was anxious to see her mother.
“We’ve put her up at the Ritz in Picadilly. We can see her this evening.”
“Is she OK?”
“Colin went to see her yesterday and said that she was OK.”
“Richard, I don’t know how to thank you.”
“By helping me understand why your mother was persecuted. For now why don’t you go to see Colin. He’s down at the bar. He’ll arrange tonight’s dinner.”
Mickey was almost trembling with emotion. She wanted to hold Nick who was standing right next to her but she didn’t want to in front of Richard. Nick herself did not look at Mickey at all but kept her eyes on Richard. Michelle excuse herself an went to look for Colin down in the dining room. That left Nick and Richard alone in the room looking at each other and feeling awkward.
“Nick. What you do with other people is really none of my business. I apologise for what I said the other day. ”
“I’m sorry.” She just had not the appropriate words to express her thoughts and feelings for they were confused and inexpressible. Richard’s cool collected handling of her did not help.
“I guess I fucked up.”
“No. You did fine. It was wrong of me to object. I suppose I never accepted your sexuality. It’s always been something that was faced by other people, not us, not our friends.”
“That’s not true Rick. It’s something else.”
Nick steeled herself to face a fact both she and Richard had never wanted to face before. She moved closer and took his hand in hers as if to form an allegiance for strength. Richard was still watching her contemplatively as he took her hand. He tried to read her thoughts as he looked into her liquid eyes. There were tears in her eyes but she held them back. Richard got up to his feet and held her by the shoulders rather awkwardly. Her eyes seemed to hold more pain than he could bear. He pulled her to his chest and held her there feeling her tears wet his shirt. She disengaged slowly and composed herself as if insulted by the need for his support.
“Rick. Do you like Mickey?”
“If you mean romantically, no.”
“It was an awfully long way to go to help her.”
“We are not entirely unselfish in this matter. There is something we need from her mother.”
“A motive.”
“Yes. There was a very good reason why that story was run on the front page.”
There was an uncomfortable silence for a while.
“Rick. I’m a mess aren’t I?” Nick said finally breaking the heavy air of quiet.
“Sometimes you are Nick. Like now I suppose? Mickey likes you? Just now in the room the way she looked at you. You have to sort that out yourself.”
“I will. I’m just a bigger mess than that. I knew. In Paris. I knew it would be trouble but I just did it anyway. I’m not a sex maniac I’ve controlled myself with more attractive girls before but this one was yours. Not your girl but your charge. I wanted to take her away from you.” The tears which she had stopped before now flowed down her cheeks as she agonized that she was so inclined to hurt a friend because he was her friend.
“Why did you want to take her away from me?” Richard asked a bit confused. He managed o remain composed.
“I don’t know.”
Nick decided to get away form the interrogation. She picked up her coat and made for the door but Richard was just as quick and grabbed her hand just as her hand was on the door handle.
“Don’t run away from me.” Richard whispered softly in her ear. Nick was sandwiched between him and the door. She felt his warm breath against her cheek and felt a wave of excitement wash over her but it was more than that. She felt that addictive excitement of being wanted, of being in control of the other party. It was an intoxicating feeling but she did not feel it right to exercise that power.
“Rick. I need some air.”
He opened the door for her and released her into the cool corridor. She stopped and turned to look behind and saw him framed in the door looking at her as if he knew her heart. It scared her that he might know her thoughts as it made her feel deliciously vulnerable and it was a seduction she denied herself. She turned and went on past the swing doors and out of sight.
Colin had spent the morning with Mdm. Wong helping her get some clothes and other necessities. After that he headed for the LSE for classes and then returned to Passfield where Mickey found him shooting pool with the Indian Maniac. Seeing Mickey, Colin excused himself, forfeited the game and brought her back up to Richard’s where they found him alone and a bit quiet.
“Michelle’s mother is in the hotel now. We can go see her now actually. And have dinner on you at the Ritz.”
“Where’s Nick? Isn’t she coming with us?” Mickey asked. Richard turned and gave Mickey a look which she did not understand.
“Have you told Daniel you’re home?” Richard asked by way of reminder. “He was very worried about you when he couldn’t find you. Colin, why don’t you take Michelle to see her mother now. I’ll join you for dinner later at the Gourmet Diner on Wardour.”
Colin complied and he and Mickey went ahead. As usual Colin hailed a black cab. As the cab pulled away from the pavement they saw Nick going into Passfield.
Nick had left in a flurry her thoughts in a spin. One block on the way to Canterbury she decided that she had not said her piece and went back to do so. Her return was not unexpected by Richard who personally opened the door and asked her in. She came back in tentatively placed her coat where she always did precariously on a hook where Rick’s own coat hung.
“An apology is an apology and really shouldn’t have been delivered like that.” She said quietly almost sadly.
“Friends forgive eventually apologies or no. Sometimes we even apologize to the guilty parties.” Was the generic and noncommittal reply.
“You know Rick, I think sometimes we’ve known each other too long and too well we behave like husband and wife.” That seemed to break the tension.
“Stay the night. Keep me company.”
She thought for a while. He had never shown any romantic inclinations to her so she supposed it was alright.
“I have to go back and get some clothes.”
“You left a whole bag load here the last time.” Richard pointed to a big blue bag that sat beneath their two coats.
She hugged Richard tightly and pressed her cheek against his. It was both a sign of as much as a request for forgiveness.
Mother and daughter met after three months of separation and were overjoyed to see each other. Colin felt decided out of place as the two women hugged each other in tears and laughter. When he could get a word in edgeways he suggested dinner at a Chinese restaurant some fifteen minutes by on foot. The threesome set out into the cold winter’s night.
“Colin took you shopping?” Mickey asked as she looked her mother up and down with an approving eye. The boy could dress a woman.
“Yes. He took me just across the road from the hotel to Hermes and Valentino and Donna Karan.”
“Only the best for you Mdm. Wong.” Colin replied quite pleased with his own handiwork.
“I told you to call me Lin.”
Later at dinner Colin questioned Mdm. Wong as to the true motive of her detention and the story that unfurled was fascinating. Mdm. Wong revealed how she had worked in the brothels of Singapore as a child, cleaning up after the hostesses and madams, doing the daily chores. Her mother before her had been a cleaning lady herself and as they lived in the area so too she had taken to working among the brothels. It was natural that she would remain a cleaning lady until her old age except that at 13 years of age a madam saw beauty in her face and potential is a hostess, she had refused to be a whore, and so she was elevated to the position of bar girl at the Sakura Club.
“It was at that club that I worked for five years of my life before you came along Mickey.” Mdm. Wong spoke directing her speech to her daughter. Colin was just along for the ride.
“William Kong was a patron and I was his favourite girl. And he was a perfect gentleman, always polite, always pouring the drink for me. I had to tell him to stop or I would lose my job. He was there to sing with his friends at the karaoke, often he would go with one of the other girls and he would be so embarrassed when he saw me. I told him it was OK. Men need their release. William made a pass at me the first time but he took my no seriously. One night I was working very late and there were these Thai workers from across the street. The bouncers had already left and these men came over as I was leaving. They tried to rape me. It was William and his gang that saved me. I never knew it but he was sleeping over with one of the girls and his men were waiting outside for him in his Volvo. They saw me being attacked and they came to my rescue. From that day on William and I dated. He was my godfather. He took care of me and told me not to work at the club anymore but I told him that I had to. The club was where I saw all my friends. It was my life. I saw a way out, and a way to help my friends out. William kept me as his mistress, he bought me a flat in Clementi. That was our love nest.”
Mickey was flush and confused. She had always had an open and frank relationship with her mother but what she was hearing made her feel uncomfortable. Especially with Colin around listening just as intently.
Mdm. Wong went on with perhaps what Colin had already suspected but Mickey had blocked for her own reasons.
“Mickey. William is your father.”
There was a long silence during which mother and daughter looked at each other feeling in turns sad, sorry, and relieved.
“You never wanted to know I know but now I think you should.” The elder Wong continued. Colin just lit another cigarette and leaned back. The plot had thickened.
“William helped me set up my hair salon business. I started with one just downstairs from the flat. That was his. The rest I built. When you were three years old, William had to end our relationship because he was becoming a big business man. He was a small timer until then. He told me that he was setting up a big company and that he needed his family with him. I think he didn’t need his second family.”
“Mdm. Wong, what happened then, after he left?” Colin asked.
“Life went on. We worked and prospered. I took many friends from the Geylang place and trained them to work in my shops.”
“Do you know what kind of business William was in?”
“Only as much as you. He was CEO of Glory.”
“Did he contact you after that?”
“He did a few times but it was long ago.”
After diner he delivered mother and daughter to the Ritz where both would stay for the next few days. They would have much to talk about and Colin still needed them out of sight for a while.
Colin went back to speak to Richard about what he had learned.
“The Singapore government is looking for William Kong.” Richard repeated what Colin had just told him. “William Kong. I know that name. Chairman of the failed Glory plc. Why would they want to find him? I understand their looking for Lee Soon Lee which they have for some time now but he’s dived underground. Why William?”
“Don’t know Rick. We’ll have to find out fast because Mickey’s mom is not entirely out of the woods yet.”
“I think I know how we can find out. He moved in the business circles in Singapore, Malaysia, the far east. Someone must know something.” Richard was running through in his mind the names of people he could call to ask about the sins of William Kong.
“Now that you mention it, what happened to Lee? I thought he contacted you.”
“He did. We talked. That was about three months ago. Haven’t heard from him since.” Richard shrugged.
Daniel was overjoyed as well as relieved to hear from Mickey who called him from her room in College Hall. He had been worried for her safety for reasons only he understood and decided to pay her a visit immediately. Daniel walked past the Sheerluck Hall and through Russell Square. It was a cold winter’s evening and Daniel thought he might stop to get some food for Mickey. He decided to get some chinese takeaway at the junction of Southampton Row. The shop was a newly opened Chinese Cantonese restaurant and Daniel ordered some noodles to go. When he was done he continued on to College hall on Malet Street. Th porter was familiar with Daniel and greeted him with a smile.
“Come to visit your girl?” he asked as Daniel signed in. Daniel just smiled silently and went in. He went to the old lifts to the right of the lobby, the kind of lifts with hand operated gates, and went into an empty one. The lift doors creaked shut and the lift groaned all the way up to the fifth floor. Daniel walked up to 19 and knocked on the door. He was pleased to see Mickey and was more than a little curious about where she had been in the last three days.
“It’s a long story Daniel and I don’t know if you want all the boring details.” Mickey said as she took the bag of noodles and went to search for a clean bowl.
“I was worried about you Michelle. You could at least have told me where you were going.” Daniel said helping her with the noodles. As they shared supper, Mickey began to relate to Daniel the events of the past three days.
“Did you ever find out who was hacking into my system?” Mickey reminded.
“No. It was intractable. Tell me who helped you do this?” Daniel asked, intrigued.
“I can’t say except that Colin helped set it up. If you want to ask anything you’ll have to ask him.”
Daniel went to the window and lifted it to get some fresh air as the heating even in this cold winter was a bit stifling. He looked out onto Malet street and saw that even at the late hour there were students walking to and from the Union building. That was Malet Street.
“Getting your mother out took some political clout I’ll tell you that.” Daniel mused from his vantage point at the window. “Colin must be connected as hell.”
“Daniel, I’d like to tell you but it could be inconvenient for Colin. Why don’t you go ask him yourself, I’m sure he’ll tell you. I just want it to come from him and anyway I suspect he didn’t tell me the whole story.”
They chatted for a bit and when they had finished the oily noodles Mickey took the bowls and went to wash them in the small pantry that they had on every floor. Daniel sat down on her bed in front of her PC and wondered why Colin had been so helpful and what power he wielded that he could snatch someone from the jaws of a south east Asian government.
Mickey took the long walk down the cold draughty corridor to the pantry which was really only equipped with a microwave and little else. As she neared the pantry door she heard a voice behind her, an oriental accent.
“Don’t turn around , I have a gun.”
A gun which was jammed into her back for emphasis. She froze in her tracks and deliberately dropped the bowls sending them crashing to the ground. She hoped that Daniel would come out to check or at least that if he didn’t they would instantly recognize foul play.
“Who are you?” She asked evenly.
“Just come with us and you will be fine.”
So there was more than one but where? Outside? The only exit was through the porter’s lodge.
A hand grabbed her by the arm and led her past the pantry. The service elevator, the tradesman’s entrance, Mickey realized in panic. No one would notice them if they used the back entrance. Her abductor did not disappoint and marched her to the service elevator. She could not see him but heard another set of footsteps join them. Her abductor would prod her from time to time with the gun to goad her along. As she expected she was taken to the basement to the tradesmen’s entrance which was deserted at that time of night. She was shoved harshly along and at one point caught sight of her captors. They were chinese and looked like hoods from Chinatown. They ushered her out the back door and towards a car parked with its engine idling. She made it out to be a Mercedes limousine. The men which numbered three made no attempt to hide their faces but were businesslike and efficient. As soon as all were in the car the driver sped off in the direction of Euston.
After about ten minutes Daniel got a bit worried and went to look for Mickey. He took the same route she had taken and naturally came upon the two smashed bowls. His heart sank and his blood ran cold as he contemplated the possibilities. He stepped carefully around the mess and checked the pantry. The sink was dry. He realised that if anything untoward happened he wold be under suspicion as well. Daniel went back to the room and though to call the police and the hall security. As he neared the room door a familiar face appeared from the shadows. It was Chan.
“Chan. You.” Daniel said accusingly.”
“What have you done with her?” Daniel growled.
“Nothing. Keep a lid on it.” Chan said ushering Daniel into the room and closing the door behind him.
“You have a problem, you signed in.” Chan said as he looked the room over.
“Where have you taken her Chan?”
“W e haven’t taken her. Someone else has. Good thing we were watching.”
“I know you’ve been watching.”
“And you as well on our behalf and of your own accord I might remind you. Sit down Daniel.”
Daniel obeyed but looked defiantly at his mentor.
“Your friend Michelle is a very unfortunate pawn in a game neither you nor I understand but we have our orders.”
“What orders? What are you talking about?” Daniel said in irritation.
“Nothing is for free Daniel, this mentoring scheme is not voluntary.” Chan waited for that to sink in and it did rather quickly. The look that Daniel gave him told him he could carry on.
“Our bosses at home are looking for a man who may be linked to organized crime. His name is William Kong, former CEO of Glory plc. Michelle is somehow linked to him. Child out of wedlock I think.”
Everything clicked in Daniel’s mind, the arrest of Mickey’s mother, her rescue and now Mickey’s abduction. It all made sense, but who had abducted Mickey? Daniel had to be careful here as he was in over his head. Could Chan have taken her and this was all a lie? He couldn’t rule that out.
“Looks like someone else was looking for her.” Daniel commented searching Chan’s face for some clue. He gave nothing away.
“Probably Mr. Kong’s men. We’ve been watching Michelle for a while and we expected something like this. She’s safe, don’t worry. We need to clean you in fact.”
“Not if she’s safe.”
“Would you take that bet?” Chan asked reasonably. “Go home. Say nothing. Sign out. I’ll make sure there are a couple more signatures after you.”
“How will I know she’s safe?”
“I wouldn’t get too attached to this one Daniel. She’s a pawn and nothing more. Pawns get sacrificed at some point. Go home and forget it.”
“I have to know. You must tell me.”
“We don’t want her just her old man. Do you think he means her any harm. She’ll be alright. Now go.”
Daniel got up collected his things and left without another word. He walked back towards Passfield solemnly his mind filled with the confusion that the recent events had created. He felt sick inside as if his life was worthless and he wondered why he felt so. Perhaps he had become more attached to Mickey than he had first believed. Could it be that he loved her even and if so how much greater the betrayal. Daniel went directly to the bar in search of nicotine, alcohol and some anaesthetic male companionship. He found the ever present Colin basking in the neon lights and sucking on a cigarette with ash half as long as tobacco. He didn’t acknowledge Colin’s greeting grunt but went directly to the counter to get a drink. Where was she now, Daniel wondered about Mickey. She was being followed by Chan’s men, surely they would not allow any harm to come to her. Whose side was he himself on, Daniel wondered of himself.
Mickey’s captors made no attempt to keep their route or destination secret. They headed up Hampstead via Belsize and did so at an unhurried pace. Mickey sat quietly mentally recording as much of the route and the details of the interior of the car and the features of the men as she could.
“Don’t be afraid, we won’t hurt you.” The man in the back with her reassured yet again. The gun was less reassuring. They wound there way north to Golders Green and turned off the main road behind a row of buildings. The Mercedes pulled into a condo car park whose barrier automatically rose to welcome them. The driver parked the car at the porch and the other three men got out, her captor stowing his gun and helping her out. She reasoned that a run for it would have been futile and by now she was more intrigued than afraid. These men obviously meant her no harm.
Mills and Dempsey watched as the three men marched the girl into the building.
“Mr. Kong’s Mercedes. Looks like he likes them young.” Dempsey commented. They were seated in a room in an opposite block with full surveillance equipment trained on William Kong’s fourth floor abode. He had been there for the past week or so having moved away from London to Manchester and then back again to the current location.
“What do you see?” Mills asked handing Dempsey a cup of hot coffee and taking a seat beside him.
“Kong’s Mercedes just arrived with three of his men and a young girl.”
“You looking at the girl?” Said Mills in jest.
“She looked like she was in her teens Jerry.”
Michelle was taken to a fourth floor flat and inside she was shown to a well appointed living room which might have been described by any standards as luxurious. A greying gentleman sat on the sofa who got up to greet her.
“Hello. I am William Kong.” He said in so gentle a tone that it surprised Mickey. She had expected a harsher more aggressive character. The name was familiar from her conversation with her mother the night before. This was her father. “You are Michelle.” The friendly easy smile was most disarming. He shook her hand and offered her a seat which she took.
“You know who I am?” William continued. He was tentative for he had waited for this moment for all Mickey’s life. The last time he saw her was so long ago he could not remember. He saw instead her mother. He wanted to ask her immediately about her mother Lin whom he missed deeply. This girl before him was his daughter but the realization came gradually.
“Yes.” Mickey replied. Neither party was sure how to feel or indeed what to say.
“Why have you brought me here?” Mickey asked in an even unfazed tone. It gave no clue of her thoughts or feelings. Perhaps she should have broken and run to him, but to kiss him and call him dad or to kick him and curse his soul? She would not have ill feeling against him. She would have no time to have any sort of feeling for him. The door was flung open and men in black burst in. The men who had been her captors spun in bewilderment at the intrusion, they were caught unawares and had little time to react and so paid dearly for it. One was felled by a silenced bullet spat from a small assault rifle. Mickey dived for cover but found none. William was fast for his age and jumped behind the sofa where he sat. It was impossible to say how many intruders there were, just that they were out to kill. Another man fell but by now the hunted had had time to collect itself and one of them managed to return fire. William crawled behind the cover of furniture for the balcony. He knew these men were neither competition nor police and he knew that they wanted him dead. He feared for his daughter but was powerless to help her. He had a gun but it was a puny 38 but he drew it nonetheless. The gunmen fired randomly smashing glass and furniture and peppered Mickey with shattered shards of glass. From the kitchen came reinforcements and shouts to William who did not respond. It was better that the enemy think he was dead. But his daughter. She turned to face the assassins which she now saw numbered three. They had turned their attention to the kitchen door from which return fire was coming. One of the assassins looked directly and lowered his weapon at her. She heard a loud report and felt a sudden stinging pain in her chest like the blow of a sledgehammer. It threw her against the leather chair she should have been behind and she lost consciousness immediately. At the same time the shooter fell backwards against his colleagues who were surprised by his being hit. William Kong stood gun in hand behind the sofa. He fired again and was helped by suppressive fire from the kitchen as one of his men tumbled out firing as he did so. They had little chance of hitting the professionals but they did pin them down. William dived back behind the sofa as a hail of bullets splattered around where he would have been. He yelled to Mickey but got no reply. Suddenly he heard from the open door a voice boom out
“Freeze. Police.” Followed by a barrage of shots that were not silenced.
“Everybody stay down and stay still.” The voice commanded.
“Bugger. I think we lost the girl.” Mills said as Dempsey and the rest of his men went in ahead of him to clear the apartment. “Ambulance.” He ordered.
William Kong stood up from his hiding place with his arms raised. His gun he had left pushed between a crack in the sofa into the interior of the upholstery. Mickey lay unconscious and bleeding in a heap at the foot of the chair her blood forming a deep red patch in the rug. Dempsey went to her aid and checked for a pulse.
“She’s alive but not for long. Where’s that ambulance?” He barked.
“Hold William Kong another couple of hours, and find out who our three killer ninjas were.” Mills barked across the room to Chas as he strode towards his office. Dempsey was already inside the interrogation room chatting with William Kong. Mills stopped outside and looked in for a moment. “Chas,” Mills called to his assistant who was just trying to get past in the crowded corridor.
“Yes Jerry?”
“How’s the girl?”
“She’s still under.”
“Why? It was a chest shot. Exit was nowhere near the spine.”
“She’s just a child Jerry. I think she’s just asleep.”
Mills went on to his office and sat himself in his big chair. On hi desk were the ballistics reports matching bullet to gun and bullet to body. There was a chart showing the layout of the room with the positions of all the shooters and victims. The way the attack was conducted, the weapons used and the utter brazenness showed that this was no incidental triad quibble. This was a professionally done hit.
“Jerry. The old man won’t talk.”
“He doesn’t have to. Did you reach the girl’s next of kin?”
“We’re still trying to locate that. We have contacted her supervisor at her school though. There was a Watson Library card in her pocket. Otherwise no ID.”
Dempsey tossed the card to Mills who angled his head to look at it.
“University College. No slouch is she?”
“He was asking about her in a way that suggested a little more than paedophilic interest.”
“A relation?”
“I think so. Is she his daughter?”
“Nope. Family is in Manchester still. I don’t think this was his mistress.”
“Age is no barrier these days. John Golding, our Home Secretary just last week.” Mills smirked.
“I’m going to let Chas handle the girl, I want to see these shooters. By the way, do we go after his muscle or no?”
“We do. He doesn’t cooperate we put as many as we can in the slammer. He talks, we talk. Now the shooters, interesting.”
“Army Universal Guns. No Steyr markings. No any markings for that matter. No ID, no record nothing.”
“Did you search cars in the area?”
“Yes. All accounted for.”
“Do you think they parachuted in?”
“There were no signs of parachutes. Unless of course they were water soluble.”
“Michelle’s missing.” Colin reported to Richard. He had just returned to Passfield after talking to Mdm. Wong.
“What makes you think that?” Richard replied sitting up from his work. He had half expected something like that and the fact that he had not voiced his concern or done anything to protect Mickey made his blood run cold.
“Just spoke to the mother. Said Michelle missed an appointment and hasn’t been seen since last night. I went to College Hall and she was not there. The room was empty, no signs of struggle, no nothing. Her money and credit cards were in the room.”
“Did you break in?”
“No, I told the warden that Michelle was missing and that foul play might be involved. It’s a matter for the police now. I know that makes things a little bit inconvenient but I had to just in case.” Colin flopped into a chair and lit himself a cigarette.
“Weren’t you supposed to arrange for Mdm. Wong to fly to Melbourne today?”
“That’s when she told me. Richard, we have to find her.”
“How do you propose to do that?”
“Who do you think grabbed her, Rick? It must be her government. We could twist their arm again.”
“It’s not as easy as all that I’m afraid. We risked a lot more than we imagined with that last exercise and we alerted them to our presence. Leave Mickey out of this for now. Ask what they want with William Kong.”
“Rick, we can’t just leave her for when we’re free. She needs us now.”
“OK. Why don’t you go after Mickey. I have some other details to take care of.”
“I need your help.” Colin said tersely.
“There is an ongoing investigation into William Kong by the London police. The details are rather hazy but it appears he is being investigated for triad activities. There was an assassination attempt.”
“Rick, help me find Michelle. She’s the key to William Kong.”
Richard puffed thoughtfully on his fag.
“Sit down Colin. Look for hospitals and police reports. I’m taking a break before meeting an old friend tonight. TC Koo. You might want to meet him if you have time. Dinner tonight.”
Chan was loathe to make the call but he had to. Just why he felt he had to he did not know. Daniel was excited to hear from him but the news he had was bad news and he wondered just how strong a hold their masters had on Daniel. Emotions were a dangerous thing to be manipulating.
“Daniel, I need your help.”
“How is Michelle.”
“She was shot in crossfire. Listen.” Chan preempted Daniel’s outburst but none was forthcoming. “Michelle was with William Kong when there was a triad hit. Kong is as dirty as they come and his past has caught up with him and his daughter.”
“Did your people try to save her?” Daniel asked choking back the emotion in his voice.
“We could not. The police were watching Kong as well. The moment the his rivals hit they were all over the place. I’m telling you this because Michelle needs you. She’s at the Royal Free Hospital. If they ask you how you knew tell them you checked with her Hall. The warden knows already.”
“I’ll just give the Hall a call. Make it proper.”
The line went dead and Chan was left alone to the silence of his office. His thoughts were interrupted by a knocking at the door which he went to answer. It was his operations counterpart whose name he did not know. He had been told to use the name John Tan which was an obvious alias.
“Mr. Chan. Have you informed the boy?” John Tan said as he helped himself to a chair.
“I have. How do you propose to proceed Mr. Tan?”
“You don’t need to know how we will proceed.”
“No? Well that was an excellent way to proceed with William Kong.” Chan said dryly. “Don’t you think the security around the girl is going to be a little bit tighter?”
“Your boy will do our bidding. He is friendly with the girl?” John Tan emphasized the ‘friendly.’
“I wouldn’t count on that relationship Mr. Tan. She has many suitors.”
“Give him an expense account. This is a tactical retreat. We need to build her confidence regarding the boy. This incident is an opportunity.”
“Assuming she survives your proceedings.”
John Tan laughed as he left.
Daniel watched quietly from beyond the big glass window at the ICU at the Royal Free. He saw the figure of Michelle Wong in bed with a dozen tubes supplying her body life and he wondered if she was not already dead. The electronic displays at the head of the bed told him that she was alive if artificially so. This entire excursion had begun innocently in an army barrack looking down to see his friends’ German luxury cars parked in front of the platoon office. The plan was to gain an education, a piece of paper that would open doors to wealth, a comfortable living. Things had gone awry but not of his doing. How long ago had this day been coming? Was it the white haired man in the Public Service Commission office? He could almost smell the smoke in that room. Normality was now a slim hope for his life had been derailed from the path he had wanted. What did he care for the girl in the ICU? She had not been part of his plan, a plan that had been compromised from the day he accepted the scholarship on a quid pro quo with the devil. He told himself that he had not a hand in putting Michelle where she was and it was a reasonable argument but he also wondered where she might be if they had not met, or where he would be. He felt helpless and powerless, impotent, hostage to whatever wind of fate happened to wash by. There were powers at play that he could not see and did not understand, there were facts that he had ignored and even now chose to continue ignoring. The one thing stood or lay as irrefutable proof against him, an innocent sacrificed and bleeding life now as he stood by watching, still running from his own inquisition. Was it time to face his own questioning? To ask if his motives were in sympathy with the forces that had rendered Michelle thus? What power had he mere pawn in a game whose board was too large and complicated to understand? To turn against his masters was to throw away that dream of luxury and wealth. That was what brought him here in the first place. Compromise the dream or compromise the conscience? Compromise the dream and how far could he go against the forces at play? Not far, he reasoned. Chan Boon Yang was not telling him everything and if he decided to seek the truth he would have to get past his boss.
Daniel jumped a little when Colin put his hand on his shoulder.
“Daniel. How is she?” Colin asked in a soft voice. He too was a sucker for a pretty face but now it had gone beyond that.
“The doctor said she’ll be alright. The bullet didn’t hit anything vital, it passed through but I guess it did quite a lot of damage. She’s resting now.”
“How did she get into this?”
“She was shot by unidentified gunmen trying to assassinate William Kong, her father. He’s alright though.”
“How did she come to be with him?” Colin strained his eyes to see what he could, a sleeping beauty.
“I don’t know.” Daniel was thinking quickly to see how much and what he could reveal and how much would have to be jointly discovered by him and Colin. A thought came to him. He remembered how Michelle had said that Colin had aided her in the rescue of her mother. That took some doing. For some reason Colin was interested in Michelle, Daniel thought not romantically but in a less personal way. Perhaps his cause may be similarly aligned. “Colin, can I speak with you tonight?”
“Sure thing. I’m at the bar.”
Colin was sure Daniel knew more than he was saying. There was a chance he was about to spill the beans later that night. He looked at Michelle and wondered why anyone would want to hurt her. She was better alive than dead as leverage. The register that he had to fill in to visit, it would be checked by the officer in charge of the case, Colin reasoned. He had to get in touch with that officer. Colin went back to the counter and called to the nurse.
“Nurse, the investigating officer will probably want to contact all persons visiting Miss Wong. Here is my card, if you will give it to him when he comes.”
“I will attach it to the guest book under your name then.” The nurse said and took his calling card.
On his way out Colin called Richard to tell him what had happened and that he thought Daniel might be hiding something. He was but it was not what they were thinking.
TC Koo was at the Dorchester for a few nights, he was in London to attend a board meeting of TransGlobal’s parent holding company TG Holdings Private Limited. At 1900 he went down to the lobby to meet Richard Chang who had just arrived after a short walk from the neighboring Hilton Hotel’s attached casino club. Koo’s bodyguards and advisors followed him as he breezed into the lobby. Richard saw the entourage approaching and got up to greet Koo.
“Richard my friend. Shall we talk somewhere quiet?” Koo suggested shaking his friend’s hand.
“In private as well please.”
They went to the bar after Koo signaled to his people to stay behind in the lobby. Richard ordered a whisky and Koo a vodka.
“How goes Sheerluck?”
“Good. Out of the storm. And TransGlobal?”
“In the eye of it. We will survive as we always have, perhaps a little shaken but no substantial damage. What is on your mind this time?”
“You usually have the TG meeting in Hong Kong, why the change? Are you looking for someone? Or something?”
“I seek an audience with the fallen angel, Lee Soon Lee, formerly of the People’s Party then the Socialist Party, and now nonaligned. He has gone underground.”
“Why do you seek him.? What can he give you TC?”
“I just want to chat. Nothing terribly important.”
“Somehow I find that hard to believe. Is this part of the master plan? Some diabolical plot to dethrone the government of Singapore?” Richard was mocking in his tone.
“Still the patriot are you Richard? I wonder why you are so loyal to the place?”
“Am I? I’m resident in London. Singapore is simply too far away for my attention.”
“The government there has had too long a grip on power. It’s time there was new blood.”
“So how is that scholarship program of yours progressing? Found any new soldiers for the cause?”
“A worthy opposition is a good cause you agree?” Koo argued persuasively.
“Always TC, always.”
“No opposition can be nurtured in the open in Singapore. Or ASEAN for that matter. They have to be developed outside.”
“And they will go down well with the electorate?” Richard asked sceptically. “Won’t they be out of touch with the people they are supposed to represent?”
“We have no choice Richard. All potential threats to the government have been cut down before it could develop. They either recruit or destroy. This is the only way.”
“How many have you got? Willing candidates.”
“Not many but I have a few promising ones. The rest do well within TransGlobal.”
“TC, you don’t live in Singapore, you don’t even visit anymore, why the vendetta?”
“It’s not a vendetta, it’s an attempt to introduce a credible opposition. Why do you defend them Richard?”
“You know TC, I think it was the passport issue.”
“Say what you will, I will have my party in place inside of five years.” Koo said smugly. “You should be ashamed of yourself Richard. You were born there. You abandoned the place without a care and you dissuade me from furthering the cause of democracy there. Don’t you want to see a more open, less arrogant, less invulnerable government? They have no sense of humour, their practices are unfair and intimidating. They are small men. Small. Their influences stops at their shores. They think themselves great but they are really small small men.”
“Good. Leave them alone. Do you know how much you are wasting in this campaign. Turn your resources and attention elsewhere, leave the old rock to bask in the sun, leave it alone. You are Malaysian for goodness sake.”
Koo had never considered himself Malaysian or a citizen of Hong Kong, now under Chinese rule of course, but rather as a citizen of the world. That he had been refused a passport or permanent residency in his earlier days in Singapore was a sore point. Still many if his businesses were headquartered in the little island state and until two years ago he was a regular visitor.
“The present government has treated the opposition unfairly and basically threatened the people into voting for it. Those thinly veiled threats have been the mainstay of their 4 yearly campaigns as is the litigation and unfair media control. It is time to end it and punish the guilty.”
“Is it so important to punish? The people are happy with their choice or at least with what they have before them. Who cares if it’s an undemocratic process. It works.” Richard reasoned.
“Haven’t you ever fought a fight for anything more than personal gain?”
“Very noble TC. Would you have bothered if they had been nice? Everyone has their grouse with the government in any country. Forget about fighting battles you cannot win. If you can’t live with a government, hell, leave. That’s what I did. I’m not terribly fond of them either but they are none of my business. They don’t interfere with me nor I with them.”
“But while you turn away the weak within are suffering.”
“Are they TC? Are they? The government has given them wealth and economic well being for as long as I can remember. This downturn turned out to be a global one after all.”
“Would you like to see Lee? Might have something interesting to say.”
“I wouldn’t mind a bit. Hey can you give me a ride back to Aldwych.”
China, given her size and corrupt state government, had a rather tenuous grip on power in the peripheral provinces. That had always been a problem exacerbated by the fact that these regions usually received aid and arms from neighbours trying to keep China’s ambitions for conquest in check. Of late the rebellion in the west had reached rather worrying proportions with the rebels being equipped with more sophisticated weaponry. Traditionally the Soviets had been the suppliers of such war machines but now the finger of blame began to point to Kazakhstan. That Kazakhstan had recently become a nuclear power did not help any, but Kazakhstan was hardly in a position to provide these arms from a technological as well as economic consideration.
The fourth war between India and Pakistan that had begun two years before showed no signs of abating and it was no surprise that the rise of Kazakhstan as a military power changed the balance profoundly. Thus far the India Pakistan conflict had been a war of conventional weapons and while an escalation to a nuclear level was highly unlikely given the geographical features of the two countries, a third combatant of uncertain alignment was highly destabilizing.
It was China who was most concerned about the tensions in that part of the world. Already into its third year of recession China would have had to strain its economic resources to finance a war. Earlier in the year she had sent envoys to Russia and India in an effort to reassure herself and then that her concerns were entirely of domestic focus and the outside world had little to fear from China. The response from Russia was favourable as Russia had been in recession as long but was already beginning to pull out. India’s response was more worrying in its ambiguity.
The situation in South East Asia was just as tense as in central Asia. There the concerns were economic but even they found it necessary to consider the possible contingencies arising from Sino Indian relations. A special meeting of ASEAN was called by the Singapore Prime Minister to be held in Singapore. Their fears were perhaps unfounded but for reasons of proximity. China was a massive force and as much a threat to security as a key to security.
Tan Sri Abdullah was visiting KC Ng at his house one evening. He had come as part of the Malaysian delegation accompanying their Prime Minister who was attending the meeting about regional security. Abdullah was a heavy smoker and Ng decided to meet outside by the pool. He wore a linen suit to suit the weather.
“Looks like our friends are a bit worried about the Chinese.” Abdullah began lifting the glass of Chardonnay to his lips.
“There are other more pressing concerns.” Ng KC said lighting himself a Havana. “A business associate of some friends of ours has flown the coop. He might be damaging to our operations.”
“Really. That is inconvenient. I’m afraid we can’t help you there.”
“I was under the impression that all was progressing smoothly on your front.”
“Things are fine but we find the methods you imply rather extreme. We are businessmen.”
“Abdullah, your Prime Minister is a strong young man. In all probability he will rule for a long long time.”
“Yes. And he is a worthy ruler Mr. Ng. What do you propose to do about your little problem?”
“We have it under control.”
“It appears your first effort was rather clumsy.”
It was a deliberate jab from Abdullah and it drew a smile from Ng KC.
“What are your thoughts about Sino Chinese relations. Any impact on our operations?”
“Obviously. The supply route cuts through the disputed areas. That is our concern, however. Unless there is all out war we have nothing to worry about.”
“There are inquisitive voices coming from China. They are wondering how their rebel friends come into possession of such large quantities of arms. Frankly I wonder as well.”
“The couriers are bound to sell some along the way. There are large buyers in Russia and Kazakhstan, before these weapons even reach the fringe of Asia.”
“It would be interesting to see where they go.” Ng said almost to himself. “Abdullah, I hope you know where all your merchandise is going. We wouldn’t want them to end up in the wrong hands.”
Abdullah got up and strolled slowly around the pool. Ng KC was a strange man, a man of mystery. Yet his history was known by many. There was much more that was omitted from the rumours and the stories, much more the world did not know. Abdullah was wary of the man gentle though he looked. He was also well aware of an article in the Economist that spoke of guns with no name, of uncertain origin, and uncertain parentage. The reporter had done his homework, the description of the weapons was accurate and the points he brought out showed a keen observation. The route was also described in great detail but it was only one of the routes. When once the caravan traveled relatively unnoticed, the wealth that came with it meant she was eagerly awaited wherever she went. Secrecy became an increasingly difficult thing to preserve. Abdullah knew that it was one of Ng’s concerns.
“We will control the distribution more carefully now. The reporter that infiltrated one of our caravans, I will speak to him myself.”
“Gently.”
“Of course.”
Her first conscious vision was of Daniel looking down on her. She felt nauseous and she ached from inactivity. The pain that she felt in her shoulder was now an ache, a massive, debilitatingly powerful ache. She tried to speak but could not, and she wanted to see her mother.
“Michelle.” Daniel whispered gently. He brushed her hair with his hand and held it against her cheek. He saw her confusion and disorientation and he tried to smile at her.
“You are alright now. Safe.”
She could hear his words and she could understand but she could not reply. Her words were garbled, muffled groans and her attempts to move her body were painful and ineffective. She decided to sleep it off and worried him by closing her eyes. His heart lurched for a bit and then he realised from the electronics around her that she was merely sleeping. He looked again at the beautiful face and bent over to kiss her on the cheek, a kiss that she felt and understood. She surprised him by opening her eyes as he pulled away. There was no rebuke in her eyes, in fact she seemed to smile.
Outside in the waiting area Colin was talking to Jerry Mills. It surprised Mills that anyone would voluntarily contact him. The police were usually avoided under circumstances such as these. He was impressed by the young man who spoke authoritatively and for a while it felt as if Colin was conducting the investigation.
“You have a William Kong in custody as well?” Colin asked bluntly. He did not know for sure but decided that a battering ram approach was best.
“He is not in our custody. We released him just a couple of days ago. What’s your interest in all this anyway Mr. Choo?” Mills sensed that there was much more to Colin than was apparent.
Colin had to consider his answer.
“Det. Mills, I wonder if you could spare an hour or so meeting a friend of mine.”
“Certainly. Business I presume?”
“Business. Passfield Hall. When are you free?”
“Now if you are.” Mills felt instinctively that this was a matter of some importance and that it was in his interest to hear this man out. “Do you mind riding in a police car Mr. Choo?”
“Call me Colin.”
Colin went to tell Daniel he would be leaving and was told that Daniel would stay with Michelle until her mother came to visit her.
“This is purely a South East Asian production playing in London, Det. Mills. I do apologize for the trouble.” Richard said pouring Mills and Colin a coffee. “London is a staging area and whatever damage may occur is considered collateral damage.”
“What do you mean? Is William Kong still an active triad boss?” Mills asked.
“No he is not. He isn’t above using old contacts to achieve his aims but he is out of the business. For good.”
“What is he doing in London then?” Mills asked lighting up his first cigarette for the day.
“Hiding. Apparently some people want him dead. I don’t know who but some people. They’ve failed so far and it was good of you to keep the first attempt under wraps but honestly the word on the street travels faster than an ISDN line.”
“Old cronies or old enemies who never had a chance during his active career?”
“Unlikely.” Colin chipped in. “Kong left his businesses to most of his business associates. Very few were left out and if you were left out you wouldn’t like to go up against all of Kong’s friends. This is something else. Something political.”
Richard wished Colin would keep his theories to himself but he knew his friend was going to go the whole hog and tell poor Det. Sgt. Jerry Mills a long and tedious story.
“You have released Mr. Kong?” Richard asked.
“We had no reason to hold him. We are providing unofficial protection in that he is under surveillance.” Mills explained.
“For all the wrong reasons. Your people think he’s still a Big Boss.”
“Yes. I’ll let them think that as long as it keeps the surveillance on and the protection, but I can’t just keep picking the bullets from him. Sooner or later they’ll get to him and then we won’t ever know.”
Richard was surprised at how involved Mills was in the case. It was not strictly anything to do with him.
“How is the girl?” Richard asked surprising Colin with his sudden humanness. It was very unlike Richard to ask about a person in situations such as these.
“She’ll live.” Colin replied.
“The exact forces at play are unclear. We cannot even tell how many players there are. It is not yet time to move. I suggest we put Mickey deep under. Some small town perhaps. Watch Kong. We want the hunter.”
“Excuse me Mr. Chang but we are the police and would like to get to the bottom of this as well, and without too much death and destruction.”
“Don’t worry Detective. We’ll play this any way you want. There are forces at play in the far east, forces that are more powerful than all of us and that operate invisibly. Give us some latitude and we will find out the truth. Without that you’ll be groping in the dark.” Richard paused. “Detective?”
“I know nothing.” Mills replied.
“Do you know where Kong is?” Colin pressed.
“Yes. We are watching him. He’s moved into a place in Surrey.”
“If there’s another try we’ll get the assassins alive.”
“Can we speak with Kong?” Richard asked. It would be a chance to fill a lot of gaps in the scenario he had built. Then there was Mdm. Wong. She would have to be told.
The next morning. Daniel and Colin left together for the Royal Free Hospital on news that Mickey was awake and able to speak. They took the bus that went up Southampton Road and Eversholt via Camden. It was a cold morning and both men were dazed from lack of sleep and did not talk much. The journey was tortuously slow but they finally arrived at the Hampstead based hospital. They went directly to the ICU where they were greeted by the now familiar nurse called Tracy Lowndes.
“How is she today?” Colin asked smiling at the rather attractive nurse.
“She’s resting Mr. Choo.” Tracy replied and showed them to the room. It was empty. The look on Tracy’s face spoke volumes to Colin and Daniel. The machines and tubes and wires lay in a tangle on the bed.
“She’s not here.” Daniel exclaimed.
“When was the last time you saw her?” Colin asked Tracy.
“Fifteen, twenty minutes ago.”
“Can you seal the hospital?”
“I’ll try.” Tracy ran back to her post to call security while Colin called Mills on the cellular. “You can’t use that in here. Use that one.” Tracy yelled from behind the counter pointing to another phone on the counter. Daniel stood transfixed at the door for a moment then woke from his stupor and went to the bed. The wires were strewn across the bed, there were small traces of blood probably from the hypodermics. The ruffled sheets spoke nothing to him but he could imagine her unconscious form on them. He reached out to touch the sheets and found them cold. She had been gone some time.
“Mills.” Colin almost yelled. “Michelle Wong is not in the hospital.”
It took a while to sink in.
“Lock down the hospital.” Mills ordered. “I’ll be there.”
The next call was to Richard but Colin was surprised when Nick answered the call.
“Michelle is gone?” Nick echoed. Richard looked up at once. He felt at once that a line had been crossed, as if the enemy had in some way thrown down the gauntlet. Nick was stunned. Colin asked for Rick and Nick handed the phone to him.
“The enemy has Michelle. She was taken from her hospital room a couple of hours ago. I have the police on their way to investigate.”
“How is Daniel taking it?”
“He’s dazed. What do you think?”
“Why don’t you bring him back.” It was time to call on an old friend.
Nick appeared shaken and pale. She asked Richard directly what Mickey was involved in and what his own involvement was.
“Colin is right Nick. It just wasn’t our business. I need you to be strong Nick. I need you to go to Mickey’s mother.”
“Now?”
Richard nodded and told her that Mdm. Wong was now staying at the Sheerluck Hall. It was 10 minutes away. Nick donned her coat and gave Rick a hug before she left. As they embraced he detected a tremor in her hold.
“I didn’t love her Rick. I didn’t.” she whispered into his ear.
“I don’t care.” Richard answered.
The answer stunned Nick who had expected a more sympathetic response. He saw the surprise in her eyes and wished he could explain himself but he could not. It was just a truth. She did not wait for an explanation but went in search of Mdm. Wong. She wanted to yell at him but she didn’t. She just walked out into the bracing cold air and headed briskly in the direction of Sheerluck Hall.
The next call Richard received was from TC Koo. It was regarding Lee Soon Lee. Apparently there was soon to be a meeting at Oxford hosted by the Malaysia Singapore Society at Oxford, Christchurch.
“I’m surprised you didn’t get an invite. Are you not a member of the MSS at LSE?”
“I am, for a pound, I am. Get me an invite.”
“Of course. Private meet after the show.”
Daniel unlocked Michelle’s room door and turned on the lights. It was eerily quiet for eight in the evening and Daniel opened the window to let some fresh air in. He had got the key from the porter with a warrant issued to Detective Jerry Mills who had been kind enough to let him have it first. The room was as it was since Michelle had been abducted, the last time he too was in the room. Hs sat at her desk and examined the desktop, the mess of books and papers and he began to tidy it up without discarding anything. He looked through the books paying attention to the titles. They were mostly work related texts. He was surprised to find a bible, a KJV. There was a bookmark, one of those floral types favoured by girls. It marked a passage in Ecclesiastes. How typically unimaginative, Daniel thought. Even in his grief he could not help but exercise his cutting observation. He relegated the bible to a corner of the table. Next were the drawers which he systematically searched but found nothing of significance. The room was cooling down far too quickly and so Daniel got up to shut the windows. The street below was quiet and a cold wind swept through it. Some students were walking down below with their coats wrapped around them. He could feel the cold out on the street. Where did she keep her passport, important documents like school correspondence and the like. He had cleaned out the desk and found nothing of the sort. The large cupboard and wardrobe, there were drawers. Daniel slid the doors open and saw a row of hanging clothes. He recognized some of them. A dark green dress. He ran his hand against the velvet of it feeling its cool softness against his hand. She had worn it to a musical they attended together, Les Miserables, and she was beautiful. There was a white dress he had never seen before. He looked at the stacks of t shirts and knitwear stacked in a the shelves. He couldn’t help but notice the sexy lingerie. It was a bit out of character as he had known her as a conservative Asian girl. Daniel pulled out a lacy g string from the tangled mess in the top drawer, a cupless bra, crotchless panties, a silk teddy. Daniel was getting turned on. He put the bunch back in the drawer and went on to the next drawer. Jewelry, a couple of earrings, a ring, a band plain, gold, it intrigued him as it resembled something a lover might give. There were no inscription save the standard 750 hallmark. He replaced it. There was a black address book made from recycled paper. It was exactly that, an address book. The names were mostly ones he did not know, then a few common friends. There was a cartridge disk that was not labeled. Daniel considered opening it on Michelle’s machine but later decided against it. All computer related material had been by the desk save this one. He pocketed the disk and rummaged further among her things. He found a diary which was filled with her squiggly handwriting. There was a picture inside which he recognized as Nicole Liu, Richard’s friend. There was another picture of a guy he did not recognize, an ex lover? He read the last few entries:
How could I love her like this? How could I respond lie this to her touch? How will I stop loving her when the time comes that I must?
He went back a few pages and checked the date. By his calculation she was a prolific writer and the diary would have been insufficient for anything over a year. He set the book down on a nearby chair and began to look for the others. He didn’t find them in the drawers. At the base of the hanging wardrobe were shoes and a few bags. Daniel yanked the bags out into the middle of the room and opened one of them. His eyes scanned for signs of similarly sized and shaped books but found nothing. All he found were spare winter clothes and thermal underwear. The second bag was similarly uninteresting. As he was replacing the bags Daniel decided to have a look at the underwear yet again, why he did not know but he opened the drawer and began to take out the slivers of fabric one at a time, feeling an increasing arousal as the suggested sexuality of his friend was revealed before him. He found some athletic underwear as well which excited him more and when he had cleared the drawer he found three diaries stacked in a corner of the drawer. He fished them out and looked through one of them, satisfying himself that it was similar to the first. He put the lot on the chair and stuffed the lingerie back into the drawer. A strange thing happened. The PC lit up and Daniel went to check it out. The mouse was moving on its own and browsing through directories. Daniel immediately called Richard on his cellular and found him on his way out. He reported at once what was happening.
“Daniel, pull the plug.” Was Richard’s casual reply.
“Its not you is it?” Daniel asked. He was thinking now of perhaps tracking the hacker.
“No. Pull the plug out. Shut down first if you like but I’d just unplug if I were you.”
“Any way of tracing the hacker?”
“Yes but we don’t have to do it now. Turning it off is not enough. Out of the socket.”
Daniel turned off the machine and the screen flashed off. To be sure, he did as Richard had told him and unplugged the machine altogether. As he collected his things and prepared to leave the room Daniel felt a sense of immense loneliness. She had never been as close as he wanted and now she was gone. He closed the door behind him and walked down that same corridor she had wondering if he should ever find her again or if it was in his interest to do so. There were too many questions and too many people’s interests that superceded the life of one poor soul. The girl was gone, he told himself. His masters and he himself had played a hand in her demise. He prayed that she was in the hands of William Kong, his adversary, for he was her father and she had no place with his masters. William Kong was the safest refuge she could have but somehow he believed she was with others, still alive, a pawn in an uncertain game, her purpose known only by the chess masters. And he? Was he a pawn as well? Nay he said to himself. He would be a knight. What cause the knight? A pawn long gone.
ASEAN sells arms to traders in Thailand. Arms go through Vietnam, India, Kazakhstan. End users terrorists, Chinese rebels, Europe, Middle East, India/Pakistan. Chinese rebels financed by US. China traces source to Vietnam and retaliates.
The diaries
were the only evidence he had of her ever existing and he guarded them jealously
as if they spoke her living words. Daniel woke late in the day, almost noon. He
had no desire to get out of bed but managed to clean himself and check for
email. There were various messages but none that merited his attention. The
events of the past week had drained him of all energy and sense and he staggered
around the room, his joints weak from disuse and cold. The room was awash with a
jaundiced light, a hue that pervaded everything in the room, lighting it and
casting shadows Daniel had never seen. The bright winter’s days were the
coldest and the frost upon his windows were evidence of the temperatures
without. Within the cold was not as sharp but he felt it all the same.
The diaries sat in a pile on his desk to the right of his computer. Daniel picked up the latest one and thumbed through it until he reached a date he could remember. It was the time she was away from London rather mysteriously. It was also where the picture of Nicole was inserted. The page spoke of shopping on the St Honoré in Paris, of staying at the Ritz.
‘I never supposed I could love a girl but when she kissed me I found that I could. Was it lust or was it love? The streets and the air convinced me love but I cannot speak for her.’
Daniel looked again at the photograph of Nicole. She was attractive if a little loud and tomboyish. She must have been the aggressor, the male in the couple. That Michelle had lesbian tendencies shocked Daniel. She was always shy, demure, proper, boring Michelle. There was little else Daniel could find about the relationship and it seemed from the writing that the affair was new and had begun in Paris and than before that the girl had been straight. There was more, however, to Michelle than Daniel had ever known or suspected. He leafed backwards through the pages and noted the names of some websites she had visited. Some of them were pornographic sites and others of a political nature. All were hazardous. What Daniel needed was a formal record of the sites she had visited on her excursions on the net. He remembered that he had copied her entire hard drive to his computer and that for now since he hadn’t retrieved it, it was still on the British Telecoms server. Daniel went to his perpetually active PC and proceeded to download the files from the BT server. It was an operation that would take an hour at the least. He made himself a cup of coffee and sat down on the bed to read in greater detail the diaries of Michelle Wong.
FreeSpeech.com.
The website was Spartan, the design was primitive and the activity on the forum was moderate. The discussions were mostly regarding the politics in South East Asia and the economies in the region. There were more dissidents than patriots as was to be expected. Daniel bookmarked the site under his own bookmarks. He tried to use the search engine to search for Michelle’s most recent post but the search proved fruitless. He tried Wong and got a whole bunch of strangers and then thought of Mickey.
Last post was three weeks earlier regarding the dissident S L Lee. She spoke against the persecution of the man by the Singapore government in particular the persecution of his family whom the government claimed were accomplices in his cause to subvert the government.
Daniel opened the email archives of Michelle’s account. He was looking for any mail incoming from the FreeSpeech.com server. There was a whole bunch of mail which he dumped into a folder for future reference. He slowly began to read each one in chronological order in an attempt to piece together Michelle’s history of contact with the group. It was tedious exercise which he had to punctuate with excursions into the juicier contents of her mailbox. He began to look for mail to or from Nicole Liu. The fact that Michelle had engaged in a lesbian relationship still shocked him. There was no internet correspondence between the two girls. Daniel wondered if Nick might be open to talking about the relationship and decided that she would.
“Mr. Kong, she’s your daughter. Anything you can tell us will help us find her. Unless of course you already have her.” Mills said reasonably to William Kong. Also present was Colin and Richard who had been introduced as advisors to the investigation. Kong was not about to talk to the Briton and Colin could see that. He called Mills aside and suggested that they leave the interview to Richard and himself, an idea that Mills seemed uncomfortable about at first but realized could be his only way to get past the man. Mills turned to Kong once again.
“Mr. Kong. I’m going to leave these two gentlemen here. Try to help us out, it could be the only way we’re going to get your daughter back.” He held out his card which to his surprise the elderly oriental took.
“Detective Mills. I will speak with these men. Off the record of course. I am waiving my right to counsel after all.”
“I understand.” Mills said in a business like manner. “If you need to contact me.”
When Mills had left the atmosphere became a little less formal. Kong ordered his bodyguard to get drinks for the two men.
“That’s a big car for a student.” Kong commented referring to the Phantom in his driveway.
“I have generous employers.” Richard answered. He sensed that Kong had chosen to speak to him because he felt he was the more senior of the two and he decided to run with it.
“We’ll have to make one thing clear. You have my card, and Colin’s and you know where we come from, however, we do not represent Sheerluck or our school or any organisation. Michelle is our friend.”
“She is my daughter. You must already know her complicated history. Her mother is not my wife.”
“We are aware of that Mr. Kong. What we need to know is why the Singapore government is after you?”
“It’s simple enough Mr. Chang. I was chairman of Glory and we did a lot of contract work for the government. Glory went under and was finally wound up a year ago. There was nothing illegal in her business but suddenly Internal Security dug up some problems with two of our directors. It was obvious they wanted to get us. Why I don’t know but it was so clear. The way they went after those two. When they finally turned to me I was prepared. I ran to here.”
“What made you think they wanted to get you?” Colin asked.
“It was just the signs. The other two were just excuses. Like building up a case. They wanted me. And even then I don’t know if I’m the one they want or if it is someone else. You never know.” Kong seemed to tire all of a sudden. He leaned back in the big chair and reached for his glass of water.
“I trust you boys.” He continued. “I don’t know if you know what you are getting into but if it’s the government you are against then you must be very careful.”
“We just want to get Michelle back.” Richard answered carefully.
“Are you her boyfriend?” Kong inquired.
“Her boyfriend is a friend of ours. We help all our friends.” Colin stated.
“Mr. Kong. The most important question is why they want to get you.” Richard reminded all of them. “We must find that out if we are to proceed.”
“Tell me about Sheerluck Mr. Chang.”
“Richard, please. Sheerluck is a business. It is also a charity. We have no agenda except a commercial one. This matter is a personal one.” Richard stated confidently.
“I hope you know what you are doing. All of you.” William said. He knew that there were other interests which he could only guess at.
As Colin and Richard rode back to the Hall in the silver Rolls Richard reminded him of the S L Lee meeting in Oxford the coming weekend.
“We are getting a special interview?” Colin asked his interest aroused.
“Us and one of the TransGlobal scholars. He’s doing a piece for one of the school magazines. Probably publish in the Beaver as well.”
“Which College?”
“Can’t remember but I’ve arranged a room at a nearby bed and breakfast. And we get to drive up in the new Benz.”
“ The new SL? It’s here.”
“Delivered two days ago. Six liter V12. Pretty big for a sports.”
“Do I get to drive it?” Colin asked hopefully.
“You’ll have to I’m afraid. You’ll have to get us home.”
Oxford was beautiful as always, even in the dying winter. Low Ping Shen took the group of students through the gates at Christchurch to it’s library, giving a guided tour to the Londoners. Richard and Colin had been invited by Kevin who was a close friend of Ping Shen. Richard and Colin trailed the group though Colin did show some interest in one of Ping Shen’s friends at the head of the group.
“Who’s that girl in the blue jacket?” Colin asked as they passed into another wood paneled room. It was incongruously lined with computers by HP.
“That’s Clara Lau. Not bad eh?” Richard spoke softly to avoid any unwanted attention.
“Which school?”
“Ours. Law. You mean you’ve never seen her?”
“No. This Ping Shen guy is pretty impressive. Oxford PPE, Army Scholarship, top of his class from nursery school till the present. Served in an Artillery Unit for two and a half years.”
“You know a lot about him. Changing our sexual orientation are we?” Richard joked.
“Our boy is a real mover. Do you know much about him?”
“Not much. Do you know much about S L Lee?”
They strolled through the library as quietly as seven people in a bunch could eliciting a few raised eyebrows. Richard saw a familiar face. Becky Hawthorne was a Physicist specializing in quantum electrodynamics. She looked up from her work and returned his smile then got up and joined him outside.
“Richard, how are you.” Becky exclaimed.
“Not bad, yourself? You didn’t tell me you were here in Christchurch?”
“I’m not. I’m Pembroke but I’m here for a day. Friend of mine working on the same project.”
Richard introduced Colin as the group they were with drifted up to the meeting room where the meeting was to be held. The two men excused themselves and picked up the pace to catch up with the group incase they got lost in the labyrinth that was an Oxford college. Richard’s cellular rang just as they were about to enter the room, it was Patrick Mason.
“Richard, I need a favour.” Mason began. “I need to use V1.”
“I’m in Oxford attending a conference Patrick, can this wait?”
“Its rather urgent, can you get Khan to help?”
“Certainly what is it about?”
“We need to take a peek into somebody’s backyard. And we don’t want to be seen by our allies as looking. I was thinking perhaps a weather satellite over Hong Kong.”
“I’ll get Murad for you Patrick but you are very dodgy. Damn dodgy if you ask me”
“Thanks Richard.”
Inside the room the interview was about to begin. Already Ping Shen was introducing Lee Soon Lee who was seated to his right and looking well. It must have been the cool country air.
“Jealous lover?” Colin inquired as Richard took his seat next to him.
“Is TC here?” Richard ignored the remark scanning for his friend in the crowd.
The interview was a boring one and the usual suspects were surreptitiously attempting to document the affair. Richard had exposed them in previous such circumstances and similar meetings but as the host was also involved albeit by proxy he decided to keep quiet. The mood was interesting, however, for once it was a turkey shoot with apparent patriots hounding the poor opposition ‘traitor’ this evening was different. The audience was more receptive to the man’s words, allowing him a chance to have his say and Richard discerned that a certain tolerance had developed, a certain sympathy for the oppressed. He was sure it had always been there, but that people suppressed it out of fear and the desire to seem a patriot. It was the way to get ahead. The economic woes of Asia had weakened the strangle hold of the government considerably and the fear was very much less apparent. Lee was speaking about the uselessness of the Singapore Armed Forces in armed conflict with the likes of Malaysia or Indonesia when Ping Shen apparently took offence though in a gracious way. He motioned for an opportunity for speak and then did so.
“Ladies and gentlemen, I feel I must defend the SAF in this matter and not just because they happen to be my sponsor. I am in officer in the SAF and perhaps see more than those who are either not in the SAF or are not in the management. An army is more than the weight of numbers, it is an organization, it uses technology and it uses strategy.”
Ping Shen launched into a campaign speech for the SAF’s effectiveness in the use of superior technology and strategy, how the superior minds of the SAF Officer allowed them to win with less men and sometimes less technology even. Daniel stood up to speak and immediately Richard saw and knew he had to stop him. Richard himself got up and walked to the front of the room. As he passed Daniel who was about to shoot his mouth off he motioned Daniel to stand down.
“I have something to say.” Richard declared commanding the attention of all with a booming voice.
“There has been a great deal of social and economic engineering that has gone on under our very noses. The Singapore military is but one. Let me explain. Given the size and technology of the army today, Singapore can stave off invasion by Indonesia or Malaysia for about six days to a week. No mean feat when you consider the size of the adversary. Still it would be a futile exercise. At this point we have to assume that the enemy had every intention of taking the island at all cost to Singapore. The deterrent reasoning that the ship gets scuttled in the struggle is not an issue here. We are assuming that the ship will be scuttled as collateral damage. Six days. This is an estimate by the US government and I think the SAF will not disagree.”
Richard had the type of voice and bearing that commanded attention and now the content of his words added weight. Ping Shen was quickly trying to find a way to limit the damage that he saw was about to be done but he saw no way out. The voice held the floor and it had been a designed to be an open conference. Daniel heard and understood what Richard was saying. He also understood that Richard was saving him from the peril of speaking his mind.
“What is the Singapore army there for the? Social Engineering, nothing more. The policy began as a two year term, was extended to a two and a half year term the last 6 months depending on the needs of the army and most recently a three year term also depending. The truth? The term depends not on the needs of the army but on the needs of the economy. A study done by Jane’s demonstrates a good correlation between economic growth and the term of service.” Richard paused and turned to Ping Shen and his panel seated behind the podium.
“Am I going too fast for you gentlemen? I’ll slow down a bit if you like.”
There was no response from the lot.
“The employer of last resort. The government. There is a more sinister agenda behind the army. The male of the species is the more aggressive, at least for now in humans that is true. The army select only males. In the course of the three years the soldier is subjected to a regime of training that makes him pliant, subservient to authority, unable to question it when it should be. Afraid. The typical soldier dislikes army service but is too afraid to complain too much in public. The control of the government is enhanced by this fear. The fear is instilled and cultivated. It’s effect is very insidious. This type of mental training coupled with a system that punishes disobedience and rewards compliance is what makes the country easy to govern. That, ladies and gentlemen, is the true purpose of the army. Make no mistake. And this diabolical policy is but one of a range of measures the government uses to maintain control and power over the people.”
“Your name sir.” Ping Shen intoned from behind the desk. It was an imperious and intimidating challenge.
“Richard Chang.” Came the even reply, unfazed by the veiled threat of identification.
“I was born in Singapore and educated partially there. Now I am a British subject. You are Lau Ping Shen, yes? SAF scholar, ASEAN scholar, you read at Raffles Junior College, Raffles Institution, and Anglo Chinese. I hope you are not offended by my view of the SAF, I’m sure they are an excellent employer.”
“The SAF is responsible for the safety of the country. You have disparaged the good name of the SAF and of the government. Why?”
“I have no agenda, I only seek the truth. There is a new weapon at Chartered is there not? Bullpup design assault rifle. 5.56 centre fire. What I say about the SAF and the government are merely my opinions of course.”
The man knew too much, more than he himself, Ping Shen realized and decided he’d better tread lightly. He invited Richard to a private discussion on his suspicions regarding the government and the army. Richard accepted with a conciliatory smile and decided to call it a day. He was to meet S L Lee later in the afternoon anyway.
“That was quite a speech.”
It was Clara Chan who accosted Richard outside the building as he was walking along the gravel path that cut across the gardens. Richard stopped to address the speaker behind him.
“Yes it was. Did you believe any of it?”
“A good deal actually. I’m Clara, I’ve seen you around the school.” Clara offered her hand which he shook as he pulled out the Marlboros out with his free hand.
“Richard. Are you one of them?” Richard asked jokingly.
“I am not. Do you know an organization called FreeSpeech.com?”
“I have heard of it yes. Shall we walk? I’m on my way to my car.”
They walked towards the bus stop at the front of the college. There were no cars in this part of town and the only access was by bus or bicycle.
“FreeSpeech is an organization against the suppression of expression.” Clara continued.
“Sounds like therapy.” Richard quipped. “I’m sorry, are you a member?”
“Nobody is a member. There are no members, it’s a website, people come and go.”
“How do you know Mr. Lau our Oxonion host?”
“I’m a president’s scholar. We met at a couple of dinners in Singapore. I’m Singaporean by the way.”
“I won’t hold it against you.” Richard said pointedly. “You are good friends?”
“You don’t like him do you?”
“I don’t dislike him. He has a job to do and he will do it as best he can. I am likewise an underling. Law are you? I shall be careful then.”
“Please be. Are you headed back to London?”
“I am. Tonight. I’m going to the town centre for a stroll would you like to join me?”
They went to the bus stop and waited a short while for the bus which was pretty empty. It took them to the car free town centre in less than 5 minutes.
In the meantime, Daniel had sought out Colin.
“That was a brave statement.” Daniel referred to Richard’s speech.
“I think he may have swung to my cause. What have you learnt about Michelle?”
“Just a couple of things. Have you ever heard of PreeSpeech.com?”
“Yeah. Been there a couple of times. Mostly an ASEAN grouses site used by people in ASEAN.”
“Has Mills contacted you?” Daniel asked in a rather worried tone.
“Yes. Don’t worry I didn’t tell him about the diaries.” Colin said with a wicked smile. He knew Daniel was wondering how the devil he knew. Nick had told him of them and the police had found nothing.
“She’s straight you know.” Colin continued. “Nicole was just a brief affair. I know you liked her a lot.”
“She was just a friend.” Daniel countered.
“Bullshit. You can say what you like. There are bigger things happening of which Michelle was a small part. If you think that the hidden agendas are a Singaporean phenomenon you’d better think again. I’m a Malaysian, I saw all the shit that went on, Singapore and Malaysia. Singapore was a control type thing but Malaysia is no different. The government has always favoured and supported Bumis. Some of my best friends are Bumis but I’ll tell you those guys have it good. The government has been very clever, however. They’ve seemingly opened up since the crisis of 1998. All the same perks and breaks. Truth is they keep tabs on everything. Just like Singapore, they have a similar system of keeping tabs on students abroad but here the problem is less damaging. They just want to check out what people think and what their plans and aspirations are. Just in case you take the scholarships and skip town.”
“I guess it’s something many countries practice. Especially in our part of the world. We can’t stop it but we can insulate ourselves from it. It’s when people get hurt that I won’t stand for it anymore. I really don’t care about hidden agendas and sinister plans, all I know is that a friend is missing, maybe even dead, and we know nothing about what happened to her. I want to find her.”
“You going to have to be patient. She’s just a small part of a big game.”
“Doesn’t it matter to you that we may lose her in our big picture?” Daniel was annoyed at the indifference of his friend to Michelle’s plight.
“I’m not sure we can save her otherwise. Daniel, I understand you have feelings for the girl but I don’t see how else to go. Do you?”
“No.” The dejected answer was not so much an admission as a lie. He knew now that his quest was his alone. The others had their own agendas just as devious as the government’s. They were all the same, just players on different sides. Richard had saved him a lot of trouble earlier that day. Perhaps he would listen but he doubted it. It was worth a try though.
After a couple of hours of strolling among the shops and streets in the own centre Clara and Richard went back to the park and ride car park. He suggested that she ride with Colin and himself back to London later that evening but that he had first to attend an important meeting. They climbed into the millenium model Mercedes SL6 and Richard gunned the engine to life. For a sports car the only evidence that the engine was on was an additional digital tachometer with dead centre on the speedometer that glowed red. The 6.3 v12 was silent to a fault and Richard pulled the beast out of the park and out onto the road. It was a quick ride that got them to the bed and breakfast at the periphery of Oxford where Richard was staying.
Richard and went into the bar area where Colin, TC Koo and S L Lee were already having a pint or two. “Richard, you know Soon Lee?” TC asked by way of introduction.
“We met some time back at the LSE.” Richard shook Lee’s hand and sat down. Colin went off to get him a drink.
“Soon Lee was just telling us how the government persecuted him and his family.”
“I’m more interested in why.” Richard said bluntly. “You were formerly Minister for Trade and Industry?
“I was. Then Minister without portfolio. Then I went to the opposition setting up the Singapore Democratic Action Party. They never forgave me.”
“Why did you set up your own party? I mean why did you leave the ruling party?” Colin asked.
“I disagreed with policy. There was a clash of personalities as well but mostly it was the undemocratic way the party conducted itself.” Lee explained.
“Tell us about your responsibilities when you were in government.” Richard asked taking a sip of whisky and lighting himself a Marlboro. “What did you do before you were without portfolio.”
Richard sensed some hesitation to answer.
I was Minister for Trade and Industry for some time and then was Deputy Prime Minister, one of four at the time. I sense this is what you are interested in. The economies of South East Asia were in a state at the time and we needed a way out. We needed cash. As you know Malaysia was already producing the Army Universal Gun and we a host of weapons including hi tech weapons, a market that we monopolized in ASEAN. There was an opportunity to get hard currency. USD. The illegal arms trade in Pakistan and Afghanistan were flush with USD. It was there that the former Soviet sourced weapons since the embargo by the Western World. We needed to get our product to those markets. A pact was arrived under which Malaysia and Singapore would produce these arms in quantity and the Thais would be responsible for delivery. Indonesia was in on it as well. They supplied nothing but some low tech production of ammo, magazines, pressed metal parts and the like. We needed to involve her, feed her. ASEAN was not going to survive a hungry Indonesia on the road to conquest. And so Indonesia was involved. The Philippines was left out altogether. This is what you wanted to hear wasn’t it?”
“Yes.” Richard replied for all of them.
“Where do you plan to go with this? It feeds ASEAN and fuels the wars in pockets where we have no interests. Unless you have ambitions. Mine got me here.”
“We have no political or commercial interest in this. Nor is justice a consideration. People, friends have been caught in the crossfire. We may need this sort of leverage to save them.” Colin interrupted.
“Don’t underestimate the complexity of the game. These things I tell you cannot be proved. Allegations alone will get you nothing. By the way, you boys may have no political agenda but Mr. Koo here does and it is an ambitious one I suspect. TC our intelligence regarding you and your ambitions is a bit more comprehensive than you think. I’d be careful if I were you.”
TC smiled and shifted in his seat nervously. He hadn’t expected the Singapore government to suspect anything at all. They adjourned the meeting indefinitely and an arrangement was made so that the fugitive Lee could be summoned securely and could summon securely. The men left and went their separate ways, Koo and Lee leaving together no doubt so that Koo could scheme further in his childish and dangerous game. Richard and Colin left for London.
It took Daniel a full three hours solid to break the password and access the part of the Michelle’s PC memory designated Drive G. It was a partition of her C drive and she had password protected it even from her own Desktop Login. Daniel was quite amused at the password before him: eatalot. The directory that opened in full structure before him was a bit more troubling. He found a directory of Singapore students in the UK like himself and began to look for a filename that carried his name. Lse/002/tan/daniel. He opened it and was astonished by the degree of detail it contained. It was a dossier on him from the cradle to the present inclusive of army records, educational records and just about anything you needed to know about Daniel Tan. He checked the soundness of the data and found it to be good. The near court martial was also recorded. He saw her personal notes regarding him.
Doesn’t appear to be as intelligent as forecast. Classified 002. Could be wrong but that’s my guess.
What’s a 002? Daniel scanned the directory for the */002/*/* files and dumped the list of names. Most of them were unfamiliar. File size on Lse/004/Chang/Richard was unusually large and Daniel opened that one next. The file was large indeed and made some interesting reading. The military record was uneventful saw him ROD a lance corporal as a clerk. The academic record was nothing to speak of until 6th form where he had a string of distinctions. Applied for scholarships at several local banks including the central bank. Was offered local university but declined offer. Self financing student LSE. Co wrote a paper on discrete mathematics with an Oxford student. Awarded doctorate Oxford one year into his LSE economics course. Has published three times after on mathematical learning. 1997 was an interesting year. Appointed Managing Director of the economics research branch of a private company, Sheerluck Investment Holdings BVI, the ultimate holding company for a financial group which included a sizeable charity trust. The exact size of the group was unknown but the economic and political clout of the group was substantial. Salary est. 12000 GBP. Substantial for a student taking a part time job but meagre for the position. The rest of the information on file regarded Sheerluck and its structure which being a private company was rather patchy.
What surprised Daniel most was a listing under 002 s of Chan Boon Yang. The information here was sparse and uninteresting. It featured a brief history of the man and his current sources of income. Why was Chan listed with him under 002? Daniel began to look for patterns among the 002 files but could find nothing. He decided to give it a rest and read the diaries instead. He could not concentrate as the events of the day crept into his consciousness, interrupting his thoughts. Why had Richard stopped him from making his statement, which though differing in content was essentially the same accusation? What was his own place in the game? That night he fell asleep with dreams of Michelle, beckoning to him, and then ending up instead in the arms of a devilish looking woman. One other thing troubled him in a more real sense. Drive H. H had no label and could not be accessed by any means he knew. For one, H locked up a lot of memory space and yet apparently contained no data. His thoughts alternated between the H drive and the devil woman.
Scotland Yard had collected all of Michelle’s belongings and cataloged and stored everything at the lock up. Dempsey had drawn the Michelle’s PC and installed it in his office. This evidence he thought would be crucial in piecing together the life and times of Michelle Wong. Mills sat hunched over Dempsey’s shoulder as Dempsey tried vainly to access the G drive.
“Bugger. Can’t we get an expert to crack this?” Mills complained as Dempsey got increasingly irritated.
“We’ll have to.”
Dempsey was a bit of a computer expert but this was beyond him. He wanted to check out the connections behind the machine.
“You’re a bit of an expert are you, Dempsey?” Mills said mockingly. He himself was PC illiterate and liked to poke fun at the more PC conversant.
“That’s strange.” Dempsey said from behind the mass of wires.
“What is it?”
“She can’t have been the user of this type of software.” Dempsey extracted something out of the back of the machine which looked like a peripheral interface plug but had no cable attached.
“Dongle.” Dempsey said handing the plug to Mills.
“What?”
“It’s a hardware protection. It protects software from unauthorized usage. Sort of allows the software vendor a means of locking you out of the software past a certain date so you have to go back and pay him.”