Shun Lee business. Is it cast-iron?’
There was a pause at the other end of the line. ‘If you want the official answer, it’s yes; our information is believed to be accurate. If you want the Willie Haggerty view, it’s a wee bit on the iffy side. Ever since that film - what was it called - Year of the Dragon, Triad gangs have been flavour of the month. A Chinese cook gets drunk and chops off a finger, and the gossip machine has it worked up to a Triad punishment.
‘Okay. They do exist. There was an execution - if that’s the word for it - a couple of years back, but most of the talk’s just bullshit.
‘Now my informant on the Shun Lee job - no names no pack drill, but he’s a restaurant owner with a real Triad phobia - he hears about Ho gettin’ caught with all that smack, then he heard about Shun Lee gettin’ done not long after he was back on the street from his murder trial, and he comes to me with the word that the two of them were in the drugs thing together and that the hard men put them on a hit list.
‘Maybe he’s telling the truth, but there’s another possibility, and one that I fancy, that Ho wasn’t a wide-eyed innocent who took a chance and nicked some smack, but that he was part of a drugs operation all along, one that our Squad didn’t know anything about. As for Shun Lee, well he was just a horny wee waiter!
‘Those boys worked together, right. Well they didn’t live the same way. Shun Lee stayed in a pit in Garnethill. John Ho was nicked in a nice wee flat in the Merchant City. The tips must have been good for him to afford that.
‘Another thing. Shun Lee drove a clapped-out Mini van. John Ho drove one of those big Nissan shaggin’ wagons. If Shun Lee was into drug money he must have been sending all of the profits home to feed his starving brothers and sisters.’
‘Any chance of that?’ Skinner asked.
‘Not much. He was born in Drumchapel, and there’s no’ too many signs up there of a rich benefactor sending pound notes home to the poor folk!’
Skinner laughed. ‘So your informant’s tale, that Shun Lee was belted because he and Ho stole some candy from the big boys, is thrown into doubt because Ho could have been one of the big boys himself, and had the stuff on him as a matter of business.’
‘That’s the idea.’
‘Has Ho said anything?’
‘Not a dicky bird, and he won’t. It’s quite a cushy life being banged up in solitary in Peterhead, compared with the rest of the place. Especially when you’re Chinese. There’s some nasty racist people up there, and one or two who might just take a fancy to a nice wee yellow boy.
‘What it comes down to is this. If the Haggerty notion is right, and Shun Lee wasn’t into Ho’s smack, then he was done for some other reason. But the Triads could still be the bookies’ favourites, because there were imilarities between Shun Lee’s murder and the few Triad hits that are on record. Several people involved, and several weapons used.’
‘You’ve no fingerprints, no footprints? No forensic leads?’
‘Next to nothing. We’ve got a machete that was left stuck in the guy’s collarbone. Other wounds include two different-shaped axe cuts, and knife punctures. Oh ay, and they cut his balls off.’
Skinner felt his scrotum tighten at the thought. ‘Were they left at the scene?’
‘No, they’ll be in someone’s trophy case somewhere. That happens in Triad hits, by the way. So what about it, Mr Skinner? Does that help?’
‘It’s possible. I’ve got to think this one through. Did you hear about that advocate going under the train in Queen Street?’
‘The suicide? Aye.’
‘She defended Shun Lee in his murder trial. Ho’s advocate, Mortimer he was the first one killed through here.’
‘Jesus Christ!’
‘Look, Willie, not a word about this for now. I’ll pursue my lead through here, and obviously if I get anything that has any bearing on your enquiries, I’ll be in touch. Sit tight till you hear
There was a pause at the other end of the line. ‘If you want the official answer, it’s yes; our information is believed to be accurate. If you want the Willie Haggerty view, it’s a wee bit on the iffy side. Ever since that film - what was it called - Year of the Dragon, Triad gangs have been flavour of the month. A Chinese cook gets drunk and chops off a finger, and the gossip machine has it worked up to a Triad punishment.
‘Okay. They do exist. There was an execution - if that’s the word for it - a couple of years back, but most of the talk’s just bullshit.
‘Now my informant on the Shun Lee job - no names no pack drill, but he’s a restaurant owner with a real Triad phobia - he hears about Ho gettin’ caught with all that smack, then he heard about Shun Lee gettin’ done not long after he was back on the street from his murder trial, and he comes to me with the word that the two of them were in the drugs thing together and that the hard men put them on a hit list.
‘Maybe he’s telling the truth, but there’s another possibility, and one that I fancy, that Ho wasn’t a wide-eyed innocent who took a chance and nicked some smack, but that he was part of a drugs operation all along, one that our Squad didn’t know anything about. As for Shun Lee, well he was just a horny wee waiter!
‘Those boys worked together, right. Well they didn’t live the same way. Shun Lee stayed in a pit in Garnethill. John Ho was nicked in a nice wee flat in the Merchant City. The tips must have been good for him to afford that.
‘Another thing. Shun Lee drove a clapped-out Mini van. John Ho drove one of those big Nissan shaggin’ wagons. If Shun Lee was into drug money he must have been sending all of the profits home to feed his starving brothers and sisters.’
‘Any chance of that?’ Skinner asked.
‘Not much. He was born in Drumchapel, and there’s no’ too many signs up there of a rich benefactor sending pound notes home to the poor folk!’
Skinner laughed. ‘So your informant’s tale, that Shun Lee was belted because he and Ho stole some candy from the big boys, is thrown into doubt because Ho could have been one of the big boys himself, and had the stuff on him as a matter of business.’
‘That’s the idea.’
‘Has Ho said anything?’
‘Not a dicky bird, and he won’t. It’s quite a cushy life being banged up in solitary in Peterhead, compared with the rest of the place. Especially when you’re Chinese. There’s some nasty racist people up there, and one or two who might just take a fancy to a nice wee yellow boy.
‘What it comes down to is this. If the Haggerty notion is right, and Shun Lee wasn’t into Ho’s smack, then he was done for some other reason. But the Triads could still be the bookies’ favourites, because there were imilarities between Shun Lee’s murder and the few Triad hits that are on record. Several people involved, and several weapons used.’
‘You’ve no fingerprints, no footprints? No forensic leads?’
‘Next to nothing. We’ve got a machete that was left stuck in the guy’s collarbone. Other wounds include two different-shaped axe cuts, and knife punctures. Oh ay, and they cut his balls off.’
Skinner felt his scrotum tighten at the thought. ‘Were they left at the scene?’
‘No, they’ll be in someone’s trophy case somewhere. That happens in Triad hits, by the way. So what about it, Mr Skinner? Does that help?’
‘It’s possible. I’ve got to think this one through. Did you hear about that advocate going under the train in Queen Street?’
‘The suicide? Aye.’
‘She defended Shun Lee in his murder trial. Ho’s advocate, Mortimer he was the first one killed through here.’
‘Jesus Christ!’
‘Look, Willie, not a word about this for now. I’ll pursue my lead through here, and obviously if I get anything that has any bearing on your enquiries, I’ll be in touch. Sit tight till you hear
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