JAMES STIRLING

                                                        "MacDonald Island"

                                     Copyright 2008 by    James Stirling         All Rights reserved

                                          ISBN 978-1-4092-1797-8  Published by Lulu.com  

 No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

     Prologue

     Harry Thompson relaxed into his comfortable seat and let out a sigh of relief. Finally, he was on the way to his lovely Island in the South Pacific. But first he was going to the former British Colony of Hong Kong to ask Constance to marry him, for she was a breath of fresh air in his life and he could not contemplate living without her now. Little did he know that the encounters with dangerous criminals he had experienced so far as an agent for the World Organization against drugs, would be nothing in comparison to what lay ahead for him on MacDonald Island.

Excerpt from Chapter 1

   “The man has no taste at all” Thompson muttered to himself as he peered through the telescopic sights and slowly began squeezing the trigger, but suddenly something was blocking his target.

   “Damn it!” He cursed and abruptly tried to abort the shot by releasing the trigger pressure and jerking the rifle upwards. But it was too late. The weapon had already made the muffled thump associated with the use of a silencer as the bullet left the chamber and sped on its way.

   His mark was Juan Mendoza, a contract killer he’d been chasing across Europe and had finally tracked down to a seedy hotel in Istanbul.

   The set-up had been perfect for he’d spotted the ready-made vantage point of the windows in the boarding house directly across the street.

   A small bribe had easily secured the number and location of Mendoza’s room from the bored clerk behind the desk in the hotel, and walking back across the street Harry had ensured he got a room facing across from Mendoza’s floor level. He then settled himself down for a long wait, placing a pack of cards on the bed by the window and playing Solitaire.

   Three hours passed before the door to Mendoza’s room finally opened and the drunken and overweight killer staggered in, slobbering over an ugly woman with large breasts.

   A waiter followed behind them carrying a tray with two glasses and a bottle of brandy, and bending to place the order on a small table by the window the little Turk was pre-occupied with the ample exposure of the woman’s bosom, and the tray slipped as he carelessly placed it on the corner of the table causing the contents to crash to the floor. He quickly dropped to his knees to try and save the balance of the liquor as it flowed out of the bottle since any loss would come out of his meagre wages.

   The bullet zipped through the space his head had occupied a fraction of a second beforehand and clipped the fleshy part of Mendoza’s right ear lobe. Blood spattered over both the woman and the waiter as the hit man staggered back clutching at his wound and howling in agony.

   Harry quickly re-loaded the weapon and had again fixed his cross-sights on Mendoza when he heard a woman’s scream from somewhere in the boarding house, followed by a man shouting angrily and the crack of a gunshot. A jealous lover perhaps? Whatever, it would certainly bring unwanted attention.

   It took only seconds to dismantle the unmarked weapon especially prepared for him by the Bureau, and wrapping it in the plain canvas bag it came in he climbed through the open window onto the fire escape ladder.

   Descending quickly to the ground he dropped the rifle in a large garbage container in a side alley, and removing his gloves he casually walked out into a brightly lit street. Hailing a taxi he climbed into the vehicle and told the driver the name of the Hotel he had booked into on arriving in Istanbul the day before.

   Everything had gone wrong for him tonight. Mendoza was smart enough to work out he was the target of a WOAD Agent and would be on his guard from now on, and Harry knew the element of surprise was shattered and he had to try again tomorrow, probably having to resume chasing his target to another City or Country.

   Mendoza was deadly. He’d recently killed one of the top officers in the World Organization Against Drugs Administration, and it had ruffled more than a few feathers at Headquarters in Geneva. Harry had been assigned to eliminate Mendoza and his boss expected the job to be done properly and a bungled job was not a result.

   He frowned at the irony of the situation; for here was one contract killer being stalked by another contract killer, for in essence, what else could he be called working for the WOAD? They were both being paid to do a job and the only difference between them was that he was doing it under the flag of ‘legality’ working for an international law enforcement agency.

   Entering the hotel lobby he enjoyed the refreshing coolness of the air-conditioning and the plush surroundings as he walked over to the reception desk. A fax was waiting for him from his head office in Geneva. He was to drop his current assignment and report to the Singapore Airlines desk at the Airport before 9pm and collect a ticket to board the evening flight to Singapore.

   Harry shook his head and smiled in amusement as he read the message. Well that certainly puts paid to the urgency of dealing with the ‘killer from Manila’! Joking aside though, he had an uncanny feeling that he’d not seen the last of Juan Mendoza.  Shrugging his shoulders he pressed the button for the elevator to take him up to his room to pack his bag.

   Stuck in the morning rush hour on the Pan Island Expressway in Singapore, Johnny Lee placed one foot down onto the ground, and looking at the stationary traffic around him he exclaimed in exasperation “Some Expressway!”

   Glancing anxiously at his watch he felt a sinking feeling in his stomach as he realized he was going to be late for work yet again. This would be the third time this week and he could already hear the chief yelling at him. “Rush hour my foot, your problem is you can’t get up in the morning!”

   He spotted an opening in the traffic and moved his powerful 500cc Motorcycle forwards.

   Today was special for the Singapore Bureau, because they were about to have the best operative in the whole of the global network coming to work with them.  Harry Thompson was a legend both in his former service career as a military officer, and for the past five years, with the World Organization Against Drugs.

   Lee’s concentration was wandering and he only just applied his brakes in time to avoid hitting a vehicle in front of him. Weaving his way around the crawling traffic he found a relatively clear lane and returned to his thoughts.

   Here was an exceptional operative. One of those rare and special individuals who can master whatever they turn their hand to in practically no time at all.

   But to Johnny, Thompson’s greatest achievement was becoming the World Karate Champion. He’d watched the finals on Television along with his friends, and H. T. had been absolutely awesome in winning his match to gain the title. He was also into Martial Arts and had been working out in his Dojo since he was a small child, graduating as one of the best students ever produced by the school.

   Revving his engine, he grinned at the thought of a friendly match with the best from the west! Yes Siree, along with the rest of his colleagues he was really looking forward to meeting Mr. Thompson.

Pulling into the rear of the Bureau premises at 8.56am he parked his big bike and ran like hell up the staff stairs.

   Richard McDonald, nicknamed ‘Mac’ by all his colleagues, was already at his desk. He had worked in the Far East bureaux of Hong Kong, Bangkok and now Singapore, and for the last five years the Scotsman was happily married to a local girl named Julie Chan.

   Mac may have been short in stature but his charismatic and bubbling personality made him everybody’s friend in the office. He was one of best interrogators in the organization, speaking six Asian languages including fluent Mandarin. He also had a keen sense of wit and enjoyed the company of anyone who would take the trouble to pass the time of day with him. But he was not known as a snappy dresser for he mostly favoured brightly coloured tropical shirts and khaki shorts and old fashioned leather sandals for his daily attire. Since he was losing his hair rather early in life, he had grown an enormous handlebar moustache that he constantly groomed by stroking it between two fingers, much to the annoyance of his wife, Julie. “Why don’t you shave that thing off? It tickles me when we make love!” she would say. But he was very proud of his whiskers and would tell her that he believed it gave him a certain dashing look.    “Yes, like a bad character in a kid’s cartoon!” she would retort.

   Lee grinned at his friend as he arrived at his desk exactly at 9am.

   Mac’s eyes twinkled as he said, “Well laddie you made it, but he’s still been looking for you; you’re not out of trouble just yet!”

   The door to the Bureau Chief’s office opened and a tall man in his early forties stood glaring in Lee’s direction. His fading blonde hair had been neatly cut in a Navy ‘crew-cut’ style, and dressed in a short-sleeved white shirt and tie and wearing smart black trousers, his figure still held the gait of a fit and healthy military man.

   Homer Scott had served with the US Navy S.E.A.L.S and had been highly decorated in his former military service. After leaving the Navy he had been recruited by the WOAD and was soon recognised by his superiors for his level thinking and leadership qualities, rising rapidly through the ranks from operative to Supervisor, and finally, had been appointed Chief of the Singapore Bureau in 1994. Divorced two years before being posted, Homer now lived in a comfortable flat with Tanya, his 17-year-old daughter.

   Lifting a bronzed muscular arm he cupped his hand over his mouth and bellowed: “Lee!  Front and centre in my office now!”

Mac, who was staring at a computer screen, shook his head in amusement and let out a quiet cackle of a laugh as he twirled his moustache.

   Dr. Johnny Lee was a brilliant graduate of one of the top Universities in Singapore and gaining his Ph.D. along with two other degrees in both engineering and electronics, he was a valuable asset to the Organization. Like his friend Mac he was quite a linguist too, being fluent in six languages including Thai and Russian. After trying his hand at several office jobs with Engineering Companies then as an interpreter, followed by a teaching post in the University, he soon became bored with mundane daily routine. He realized he wanted something really challenging; something with a spark of danger in it. In fact, he wanted a job that would provide excitement and allow him to employ his talents to full advantage. His chance came one day when he was at a Motorcycle rally and met up with another enthusiast biker, a Eurasian man named Winston Pererer. They became firm friends and he told Pererer about his wish to find a job with more excitement and challenge, and Winston introduced him to his own boss, and Homer Scott, Chief of the Singapore Bureau of the World Organization against Drugs, had come into Johnny’s life.

   With heart thumping he entered the Chief’s office with a look of dread on his face.

   Scott looked up from his papers and said “Late again eh, lad?”

A look of innocence crossed Lee’s face as he replied “Oh no Chief, honestly! Despite the rush hour traffic I was at my desk at exactly 9am.”

   A faint smile crossed the corner of Scott’s mouth. He liked this lad. Reminded him of the time when he was a young greenhorn himself, for he had never been on time for his first job and was always being bawled at by his boss.

   “Never mind that; I have some news that will have you here early from now on.” He indicated to the chair in front of his desk for Lee to sit down. In silence Homer stood up and went over to the water cooler and poured himself a cup. “Want one?” he asked.

   “Er, no thank you Chief I’m fine for now.”

   Throwing the empty cup expertly into the trash bin Homer sat down behind his desk once more and looked directly at Johnny. Expecting the worse, Lee was totally surprised when Homer spoke in a pleasant and complimentary tone.

   “Now that you have completed your initial training programme I’m promoting you to assistant field operative status, and your progress will be reviewed six months from today. I’ve assigned you to Harry Thompson, and I don’t think I need to explain him to you as his reputation is already known in the bureau.

   Since the death of Bill Molloy we have been short handed, and my request to headquarters for an experienced replacement has finally been granted. I’ve known Harry for a very long time, and although he is a moody customer he is certainly one of the best operatives in the whole of the Organization.”

   Scott cleared his throat with a strange ‘umm’ sound. Johnny was about to ask if there was something wrong with his throat but decided against it when he remembered Mac telling him the Chief had some unusual habits.

   “But I must warn you; he will not take kindly to having a partner for he is very much his own man. In the last year or so he has preferred to work in the field by himself, only calling in the Cavalry so to speak when he really needs it. But it is no longer the policy of WOAD to let any operative into the field without back up. The Drug Cartel’s of this World have killed enough of our people without adding Thompson’s name to the list.”

   Looking through the partition window of his office Scott announced “Here he comes now” He sighed as he added, “Johnny, be a good chap and bring me a cup of strong black  coffee and some aspirin – I have a strong feeling I’m going to need them.”

   “No problem Chief!” Lee cheerfully replied and set off through the door like a shot.

   Delighted he was not in trouble after all, and excited at his very first assignment he stopped by Mac’s desk with the coffee and told his friend the good news. The two of them watched Thompson stride down the middle passage as he went on his way to see Scott.

   Smiling at the office girls, his dashing good looks certainly got noticed.

   “It must be great to be as famous as Mr. T - I bet he has no problems attracting girls!” Johnny blurted out.

   “Well laddie, you wouldn’t be wrong there!” Mac replied with a nod of his head.

   Thompson was furious. Brushing past a young man carrying coffee into Scott’s office he stormed out slamming the door behind him which rebounded on its hinges shattering the glass in the partition window next to it.

   Scott roared through the hole where the window used to be; “YOUR PROBLEM IS THAT YOU CAN’T FOLLOW ORDERS! NOBODY IS INDISPENSABLE! WHO THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU ARE, THOMPSON –A BLOODY HERO?”

   Lee couldn’t resist it. With a deadpan look on his face he handed the Chief his coffee and aspirin and exclaimed innocently, “Actually, Chief, it says in his dossier that he is a Gulf War hero.”

   Homer glowered at Lee in exasperation and slowly waving his arm above his head he said, “Get the hell out of here and follow him. If I know that son-of-a-bitch he is going to get blind drunk!”

   Startled office girls gaped at the antics of the new ‘Prima Donna’ operative as he strode quickly across the main office floor to the elevator door. When he reached the street the pungent smells of the city hit him full in the nostrils along with the sweltering heat of the tropics, and he headed straight for Boat Quay where he would find Wong’s Bar, and the coldest beer in the city.

   Access was down 5 steps from the main street into a dimly lit room and once you got used to the light – or lack of it – the atmosphere was quite cosy. A long horseshoe shaped bar with a brass foot rail running its full length was perhaps a leftover from the 1970’s, and if there was a’ Mr. Wong’ that owned the bar, maybe he just liked the idea of keeping it there.  Either way it added a little comfort to your feet whilst standing up, or sitting on one of the bar stools.

   A tantalising aroma of lunch being prepared was coming from the kitchens. Harry glanced at his watch. It was nearly noon but he needed a stiff drink rather than food, for that row with Scott had not improved his irritable mood after the long night flight from Istanbul.

   Although normally based in Chicago, he could be sent anywhere in the World at short notice. Still smouldering, he remembered the events that made him decide to work alone.

   There was that time in Manila when WOAD had assigned Phil Dermont to work with him, and what happens? Phil gets himself killed on the very day they arrived all because of an argument with a Filipino man who had insulted him in a night club. Enraged, Phil had punched the man hard, who went backwards and landed on a nearby table. All hell let loose when the guy’s friends produce guns and shot Phil, starting a shoot out. It had only been the timely arrival of the police called by the owner that had saved him from joining Dermont in a pool of blood on the floor.

   Then there was the girl in Melbourne. A rookie operative named Caroline, who had gone off by herself (with never a word to him) on a wild goose chase after a known drug dealer she had seen entering a building, and the police apprehending her breaking and entering into the compound of the Colombian Consulate!  It took the Chief of the Melbourne Bureau several hours to cut through the red tape to get her released and to avoid a diplomatic incident.

   That was when he’d made his decision. If this was the calibre of operatives trained by the organisation these days then he wanted no part of it. With his past military experience and considerable knowledge in his specialist field, he had survived successfully up till now and aimed to keep it that way.

   He was on his second bottle of Tiger beer and well into his third whisky. Staring at the large engraved mirror behind the bar he saw a dishevelled and untidy image of himself. His hair was a mess and he needed a shave and a change of clothes.

   “I hope you don’t mind me saying so but you look a little tired, Mr. Thompson.”

   Coming back to reality he noticed the young fit looking Chinese Man with the ear-to-ear smile sitting next to him.

   “My name is Johnny Lee.”  Seeing it didn’t register, he continued “The guy you pushed past on your way out of the Chief’s office 20 minutes ago?”

   Thompson shook hands and grinned as he apologised. “Sorry I ignored you back in the bureau, and I want you to know that I have nothing against you personally. It’s just that I always work alone, and Scott knows it.”

   Sitting in a booth behind them four sailors had been drinking heavily for most of the morning and a fight had started between them. One of the sailors took offence at Lee, who was looking over his shoulder to see what the commotion was about.

   “What the hell are you staring at?” demanded the ignorant Sailor.

Johnny smiled and replied, “Nothing much; just a bunch of drunken fools spoiling everyone’s lunch.”

   The enraged sailor came at him. In an ultra quick move Lee grabbed his arm and turning the drunk around, pushed him hard in the small of the back with his foot sending him crashing into his friends who had stood up together spoiling for a bar brawl, and they went down like skittles onto the floor.

   Leaping off the bar stool into the air and landing on one foot with precision balance, he then began a short demonstration of lightening fast Tai Kwan Do moves, hitting the air with alternative leg kicks. He finished as quickly as he had started by landing on two feet rock still in the defence position with his hands raised in front of his face.

   Then quietly, but with authority in his voice, he said “OK boys, the show’s over. Now why don’t you do us all a favour and go back to your ship and sleep it off?”

   He had moved so quickly that the sailors just stood gawking at him in amazement. They got slowly to their feet and sheepishly apologising to everyone in the bar, quietly walked up the stairs and out onto the street.

   The office workers taking their lunch had sat in silence watching Lee in action then spontaneously, they burst into applause.

   “Well, I am impressed.” Harry exclaimed, with his hand extended and a smile on his face. “Personally, I would have thought twice about taking on four drunken Matlots.”

   Johnny shook hands and replied “Mr. Thompson, the Chief has told me that I have to work with you and I can assure you that I will not let you down. I think we can work out some way to allow you to go about your work without me getting under your feet.” He then called the Bar tender over and ordered another round of drinks. Thompson looked at the young man and said "Lets get something straight. The name is Harry, and what do you have in mind?"                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                             

    The incessant ringing of the bedside telephone woke him up, and Harry lunged at the instrument only to suffer an instant bout of nausea. His head was throbbing and he felt awful. “That’s it! No more booze for you, serves you right!” he mumbled to himself. Gingerly leaning over the bed he picked up the phone. It was Johnny.

   “Hi there, Harry! How are you?  Are you up and about yet?”

   Thompson looked at his watch and groaned. Trying to keep his composure, he demanded “Do you know what time it is?”

   “Yes, it’s 7.30am and the start of another beautiful day!” Lee quipped. “You will feel a lot better if you come down for a refreshing swim. I’ve already had mine, and I’ve taken the liberty of ordering breakfast for you. It is waiting right here on the poolside terrace.”

   “I don’t want any damned breakfast!” Harry replied grumpily. “Having woken me you might as well come up to my room right now since I want to talk to you.”

   The Raffles Hotel is a Singapore landmark steeped in history and goes back to the days of British Colonial Rule. The rich and the famous have stayed in its luxury suites, including the Japanese Military High Command during the occupation of Singapore in World War 11. The Republic boasts some of the World’s finest Hotels but Thompson usually preferred to stay at the Raffles Hotel when he visited the Lion City. He stepped out of the shower and reached for a towel. His body was firm and his muscles rippled as he towelled himself dry. In his job there was no room for complacency and he worked out every day when he could, by jogging, swimming, or using the gym when available in the hotels he was staying with. A small scar just above his left eye from his younger days when he was into fencing gave him a dashing look; along with his black curly hair, now with a few grey hairs creeping in complementing his handsome rugged facial features. Striding into his bedroom he put on a light short-sleeved silk shirt, cream coloured slacks, cotton socks, and soft leather shoes. Then opening an Alka-Seltzer sachet he dropped the contents into a glass of water, stirred, and drank it. Picking up his electric shaver he applied it to his chin.

   In the passageway outside Thompson’s room a portly man was perspiring profusely and nervously looked around him, as he tried several electronic cards to open the lock on the door. Finely succeeding, he was slowly turning the door handle when a hand crashed down on the back of his neck, sending him flying into the room and sprawling onto the floor. Harry came out of the bedroom to investigate the noise and saw Lee standing over the intruder.

   “Well thanks for dropping in Johnny, who’s your friend?” Lee replied “Never seen him before but we will soon find out who he is.”

   The fat man groaned as he looked up at the two men in front of him.   In his late thirties, he was a typical product of the fast food generation; over weight and already showing signs of blood pressure in his reddish face.

   “Hello Sunshine, now do you mind telling us who you are and why you cannot knock on doors instead of breaking in?” Harry inquired.

   The man made a movement to get up but Johnny had placed his foot firmly in the middle of his chest and demanded “Not so fast pal. First, answer the question.”

   The intruder looked anxiously at Thompson, and begged “Please can you let me get up? I promise I will explain everything.”

   Lee removed his foot and grabbing the man’s arm helped him to his feet. He was sweating profusely.

   Thompson threw him a towel and asked “Who are you and why are you here?”

   The little hair he had left on his head fell over his eyes and he brushed it away with his hand as he began to speak with an Irish Burr. “My name is Charles Williams and I am a private investigator. At present I am working for, shall we say, a business conglomerate. They engaged my services to find out certain information of interest to them. Now before you jump to conclusions, please allow me to explain. I was using the admittedly clumsy ‘break-in’ as a cover, because I know I have someone tailing me and I had to make it look real. I was supposed to be planting this little devise in your telephone, which I know will be checked out by the clients I represent.”

   He pulled a small microphone from his pocket and placing it carefully on the table he continued “However, I had never actually met any of these people when I first received the inquiry to hire my services. It began when an immaculately dressed courier arrived at my Hong Kong office and handed me a packet. Looking through my window I saw him enter the back of an executive limousine and drive off. The package was addressed to me, and inside there was a list of names and HK$10,000 in new notes. Within minutes of the courier leaving the telephone rang and a man asked me if I had received the package safely, and if so, would I agree to seek out certain information for a group of international businessmen. If I did, there would be another delivery of HK$10,000 on completion of the investigation.”

   He spread his hands and continued “Well, it is not every day that I get that kind of money offered for my services. However, it is not unusual in my line of work to receive commissions with just a cash payment in advance. Everything looked above board so I agreed to accept the job.”

   “Is this going anywhere?” Harry inquired wearily.

   Wiping his brow yet again, Williams continued “Please bear with me. As I started to find more information on each name on the list it became apparent to me that not all was well. I had an uneasy feeling that my so-called business clients were not what they claimed to be, because all the names on that list turned out to be either WOAD operatives or agents from other law enforcement agencies. Your name is on that list Mr. Thompson, and because of the information I have gathered about your particular background and success in bringing criminals to justice, I am prepared to help you as much as I can.”

   Taking an envelope from his breast pocket he handed it to Harry.

“Here is the list of names given to me for investigation. I know I have got into this matter deeply now and I fear for my own life, so tonight I leave for Paris. But before I go there is one more thing. I believe I have stumbled upon the names of the leaders of a large Drug Cartel.”   He placed a computer disk on the table. “You will find them all on this. I have since discovered that every name on that disk is a member of the executive committee of a Hong Kong based company that I suspect as being a front for a large Drug Ring, because I recently discovered that most of them are wanted for narcotics related crimes or murder, both here in the Orient and in the Western Hemisphere. I have also recorded in more detail, information that may be of use to you.” He placed a second disk on the table.

   “Where did you get all this from?” inquired Lee.

   He smiled and replied, “From the Internet. Hacking, I believe it is called; I downloaded from the computers of the Far East Import & Export Company in Hong Kong. I am convinced it is a front for a Drug Cartel. I also believe they have somehow found out that I have this copy and are after me to get it back.”

   “How do you know they are after you?” Thompson asked.

   Williams again wiped his brow. “Because I have been staying in this Hotel for a day or two, and last night on returning to my room, I found it totally ransacked. Somebody had been looking for something and I believe it was this disk.” Despite the air conditioning working properly in the room he was still sweating profusely. Johnny crossed the floor and opened the small mini-bar refrigerator, and taking out a bottle of mineral water he unscrewed the top and handed it to Williams.

   Harry took the computer disk and reached out to the table and picked up the tiny microphone then unscrewed the telephone mouthpiece and fitted it inside. Turning to his laptop computer he inserted the disk. After a short period of studying the information on the screen he turned to Lee.

   “Johnny, please see to it that Mr. Williams reaches the airport and boards his plane safely.”

   Homer Scott swivelled his chair around from the computer screen to face Thompson. “Well then Harry, I think you had better go to Hong Kong and pay a visit to the offices of the Far East Import & Export Company. We will give you the usual back up to authenticate your disguise. What will it be this time, got any ideas?”

   Thompson took his time in lighting a cigar before speaking. “I want Johnny Lee to come with me. I will be a visiting Canadian Businessman named Conrad Ferguson, looking for fine Chinese Antiques. Lee can be my Far East contact. I think a closer look at this set-up will tell us if this really is a front for a Drug Gang. We will be in HK tonight and pay them a visit first thing in the morning.”

   A disapproving look crossed Scott’s face as he cleared his throat and spluttered “I’ll set things up with the HK bureau in case you need anything, and for God’s sake Harry - put that damned thing out!” Waving one hand in the air to clear the cloud of smoke he pressed his intercom and said “Miss Tan, please ask Peter Cheng to authorise the issue of $10,000 in Canadian and Hong Kong currencies to Mr. Thompson, along with a Canadian Passport in the name of Conrad Ferguson. List him as a Businessman. Dr. Lee will also require a Chinese Passport issued in Beijing, in the name of Cheng Lin Lee. Occupation: Antiques dealer.”

   At 9-30pm that evening the Singapore Airlines flight touched down in Hong Kong. Leaving the Airport rail express link at HK Central station the two men took a cab directly to their hotel. Lee suggested that they visit a Casino that was renowned as a meeting place for business people and the high society of HK. His uncle had relations living in the City, and they had told him that ‘Tong’ Bosses and other Criminal types had also been seen in this establishment.

   The taxi pulled up outside the ‘Pink Pussycat’ Nightclub & Casino, situated near the Happy Valley Racecourse and the two men walked up the steps to the main entrance.

   “Excuse me Gentlemen, are you members?”

   A huge Chinese doorman immaculately dressed in a white tuxedo jacket had discreetly blocked their entrance to the foyer. His head was shaved and he sported a gold earring.

   Johnny smiled, and spoke to him in Cantonese. “Can you do me a favour, my friend? You see, this gentleman is from Canada and he has only just arrived tonight. He’s here to buy quality Chinese Antiques, and he is very rich. I can make a lot of money if I show him a good time. Friends tell me that many businessmen in the trade come here, so I want to introduce him to the right people. Now, if you can see your way to letting us in I can guarantee that he will make it worth your while right now, know what I mean?” He held his hand in front of him rubbing his thumb and forefinger together so that only the doorman could see it.

    The Doorman looked around him to check that nobody was within earshot and replied “OK just this once. But it is going to cost you HK$500!” Thompson understood every word they said but remained silent, playing the role of the unsuspecting and smiling foreigner that hasn’t got a clue that he is about to be ripped off.

   Johnny kept up the charade by turning to him and speaking in English. “Mr. Ferguson, we can go in. But the entrance fee is Five hundred dollar –that alright?” He was using a thick accent speaking in the manner of a young Chinese person who may have studied the English language for just a couple of years.

   “No problem” replied Harry, in a very good Canadian accent. He took out his Wallet bulging with HK and Canadian Dollars and handed the five hundred to the Doorman.

    The big Chinaman was now smiling as he unhooked the decorative red rope from the brass post and gestured for them to enter, adding in perfect English, “Just one more thing Gentlemen. Please sign the guest membership book. It’s a legal requirement in Hong Kong.”

   They walked into a tastefully decorated room in which a large central crystal chandelier hung down from a curved blue ceiling. The whole décor of the room could match any of the top Casinos in the World.

   Strolling past the various gaming tables and the wall of slot machines crammed side by side around the room, they entered a larger area with a well stocked bar and a roulette table. Guests sat taking supper, or casually sharing gossip. From somewhere above them the muffled sounds of dance music was emanating from the Nightclub section on the first floor. They sat down at a vacant table and a waiter arrived to take their order. Thompson was not a gambling man but he needed to attract attention, so still playing the part of the rich Canadian he ambled over to the roulette table with Johnny and placed his bet. He fully expected to take a big loss over the next ten minutes or so to show anyone that may be interested that he had money to burn.

   The wheel finally stopped and Thompson was the winner. He could not believe his luck! He had put $500 on number 4 and when all bets had been placed, the wheel was spun. So he kept doubling his stake in the hope that his reckless choice of numbers would bring him a cropper at any moment. But each time the wheel stopped he was the winner.

   Lee looked at him and said “I don’t believe your luck, Harry!”

   “Thompson grinned and replied “Neither do I!”

   Fifteen minutes or so passed by and both men became aware of a crowd gathering around them. Johnny counted up the chips in front of him with some lightening fast mental arithmetic, and whispered in Harry’s ear “You have over HK$300,000 in front of you!”

   Thompson decided that if it was not to be his unlucky day his ploy to attract attention could work equally well whilst winning, and finished his spell at the table. The onlookers clapped as he got up from his seat and acknowledging them, Harry gave a tip to the croupier and they walked over to the cashier’s desk. After collecting his winnings and placing them carefully in the inside pocket of his dinner jacket, both men returned to their seats.

   On the table sat a silver ice bucket containing a magnum bottle of Champagne. The trendy young waitress was in the process of opening it, cheerfully announcing that it was with the compliments of the management.

   “Mr. Boon, one of the owners of the Casino, would like to know if you could join his party presently. He is in his private box on the first floor balcony, just up there, Sir.” She discreetly pointed with her little finger towards a middle-aged Chinese Gentleman sitting with his guests.

   “Gee, that would be great! Please thank Mr. Boon for us and inform him that we are delighted to accept his hospitality.”

Looking up at the private box Harry smiled and acknowledged the invitation with a gesture of his hand.

    Lee also smiled, and then hissed in Harry’s ear “I thought you said you are not a gambling man?”

   “I’m not. That win was sheer luck, that’s all. But I think we have struck a nerve, for our new found friend is down $300,000 and I have a feeling he wants it back.”

   Boon stood up, hand outstretched as they approached his table.

“Welcome Mr. Ferguson, how nice to meet you!” He totally ignored Johnny.

   “I would like to introduce you to one or two of my associates.”

   Harry went through the motions of receiving limp handshakes as Boon continued “Like you and I, Mr. Ferguson, they are all businessmen. My doorman Foo, informs me you are visiting Hong Kong looking for quality Chinese antiques, is that correct?”

   He gestured at a vacant chair for Thompson to sit down, which would leave Johnny standing looking about as useful as a fifth player in a game of Majong.

   Harry was having none of it. Looking at the company around the table he announced “I would like you to meet Mr. Lee, my Far East Business Associate. He is an expert in Chinese antiques and very kindly travelled all the way down to Hong Kong from Beijing to meet me tonight.”

   He indicated to Lee to take the seat Boon had offered to him.

   Boon limply shook hands with Johnny looking at him warily. “How rude of me; It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

   A waiter appeared with another chair and Harry sat down and said light heartedly “Gee, you sure have a nice place here!”

   Boon placed his champagne glass carefully on the table and said “Yes, we like it too.” He was looking at Thompson curiously.

   “My congratulations on your good fortune, for Lady Luck was certainly with you at the roulette table just now Mr. Ferguson. $300,000 is a lot of money.”

   Harry smiled and raising his champagne glass thanked him. Boon went on “Since you appear to be a gambling man with a winning streak we were wondering if you would consider a little business deal.” He looked around his associates for silent confirmation from their smiling and nodding faces.

   Thompson took a hurried sip from his drink and immediately replied “I am a businessman that is true, but I do not go into new business deals lightly. However, I am always willing to listen to any good idea that can make money for me. What do you have in mind?”

   Smiling once again, Boon picked up the bottle of Champagne and refilled Thompson’s glass, and replacing it in the ice bucket he opened his arms and gestured at the Club.

   “As you have just said Mr. Ferguson, we do have a nice place. However, we now wish to expand our business. Presently, we are looking to raise further finance to carry out the extensions. We aim to have the largest, and best, Casino in Hong Kong.”

   “That’s very commendable Mr. Boon. So, you are asking me to come in as a shareholder? Well now, I would most certainly have to think this over. My accountants would need to go over your books and then I could decide with my fellow board of directors of Ferguson Enterprises if this would be a feasible, and profitable, venture for my company.”

   Letting out a hearty laugh Boon roared “Of course my dear fellow! We don’t expect you to hand over your $300,000 winnings right now as a deposit!”

   Everyone around the table laughed. It was more than apparent to Thompson by now that these shifty looking characters were gangsters in cahoots with Boon.

   The chat continued for another 15 minutes or so, then placing both hands on the edge of the table Boon half stood up. Looking at Harry and Johnny as if he was dismissing them, he said briskly “Mr. Ferguson we should definitely meet again and discuss this matter in more detail. You must be tired after your long journey from Canada and I suspect that you will be ready to retire to your Hotel about now, is that correct?”

   Harry replied that he was ‘bushed’ and needed some ‘shuteye.’

   Boon gave him a patronising smile and said “I insist you allow me to be of further service to you, for Foo can run you both back to your Hotel in my limousine.”

   “That is very kind of you but we don’t want to put you to any trouble.” Thompson replied.

   “Not at all, it will be my pleasure!” Boon exclaimed as he turned and spoke in Cantonese to his doorman. “Be sure to give our guests every courtesy and first class treatment.”

   Foo nodded and requested Thompson and Lee to follow him to the car. At the bottom of the Casino steps stood a gleaming black limousine. Opening the rear passenger door for the two men, Foo walked to the driver’s side and climbed behind the wheel moving the vehicle swiftly away from the curb. Harry looked around the inside of the car. Something wasn’t quite right but he could not put his finger on it so to speak. Lee spotted it first.

   “Harry! It’s a trap – there are no door handles!”

   As he spoke Foo pressed the switch to release the gas from a small cylinder under the rear seat that immediately knocked the two men unconscious.

   The sounds of a dog barking somewhere nearby brought Lee around first, and easing himself up on his elbow, he realised he was lying on wet grass, and he could just make out the lines of a fence disappearing round a bend in the distance. They had been dumped on the Happy Valley racecourse.

   On regaining his senses Harry’s first instinct was to go for his wallet. It was still there but the money was gone. He was furious with himself.

   “We’ve been bloody mugged! What an idiot I was not to have spotted the obvious behind Boon’s offer!”

   Lee shrugged his shoulders. “Well at least we are still alive, eh?”

   Standing up and wiping the wet grass from his trousers, Harry mumbled “Be that as it may but besides the $300,000 winnings I had another $10,000 in Canadian belonging to the bureau. Peter Cheng is going to have a fit when I tell him!”

   A brisk walk had them back in their Hotel rooms within 15 minutes.

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