evening his attitude could be so completely transformed? How could they believe that Wu would so quickly forgive his broken arm?
Part of it is my fault , she thought. If she had called Michael after her meeting with Uncle and relayed the results of his conversation with Lok, he would have known for certain that there was no chance of reconciliation. She had played things too close to her chest, as was her habit, controlling the flow of information, playing God in her own little way. Shit , she thought. Now what?
There was no car outside the Korean barbecue place, just Sonny leaning against the wall, his eyes flitting in all directions, his vigilance a habit he couldn’t shake despite the fact that it was no longer so necessary. He saw Ava the moment she came into view, then stood straight and turned to face her. When she first met him, he had worn nothing but jeans and tight T-shirts that showed off a rock-hard body decorated with tattoos. The years with Uncle had mellowed him.
“Uncle says you should go right in,” he said.
He was sitting at a table in the back with two men she recognized from previous lunches. They were old comrades, now retired, and they met regularly to discuss the state of the world. None of the men stood as she approached, instead offering small smiles and nodding heads. “ Lang lei ,” one of them said.
Ava sat and Uncle poured her a cup of jasmine tea. There was no need for introductions. She sat quietly at the table as the men continued their conversation. They had long since finished eating, the last empty platters still on the table, the barbecue grill coated with remnants of meat and sauce. Finally one of them called for the bill, only to be told by Uncle that it was his turn to pay. Then everyone stood and there was a round of handshakes. The men made arrangements to meet the next week at a Shandong restaurant on the Kowloon side.
Uncle didn’t sit down until his friends had left the restaurant. Then he looked at Ava and said, “What has happened?”
She calmly repeated Michael’s story. When she was done, he shook his head in resignation. “How stupid can they be?”
“They run noodle shops and 7-Elevens,” she said.
“Over lunch I told Uncle Fong that Lok was causing a friend of mine some trouble. He knows Lok from before; he says he can be crazy. It was useful when he was a 49er, a fighter. He is smart, of course, and moved up in his society, but the craziness made him unfit to be anything but a Red Pole. Uncle Fong said a man like Lok should never have the autonomy he has.”
Ava had listened more than once to the old men complaining about the deterioration within the Three Harmonies Society — the unity between Heaven, Earth, and Man — and how the thirty-six traditional oaths had no meaning anymore. When the triads fought these days, it was normally against each other. They were more of a threat to themselves than the police. Ava didn’t feel like listening to another monologue on the good old days, even from Uncle. “What can I do?” she asked.
He poured more tea. “Nothing,” he said.
“That’s not possible.”
“It is practical, and you are a practical girl.”
“If we pay a ransom?”
“They will kill him, if he is not dead already.”
“You seem so sure.”
“Your brother’s partner will die whether you pay the ransom or not. That is how these people operate. You asked for my advice, there it is.”
“How about the threats to my brother?”
“They want to scare him into paying, probably nothing more than that.”
“They told Michael not to go to the police, that they would know if he did. How much truth is there to that?”
“Lok has been in Macau a long time, and as far as I know he has never spent an hour in jail, never had a single charge laid against him. This is a man who ran moneylenders, whorehouses, did some drug dealing, and when he got bored he would hire out himself and his men for contract killing — all rather visible and
Part of it is my fault , she thought. If she had called Michael after her meeting with Uncle and relayed the results of his conversation with Lok, he would have known for certain that there was no chance of reconciliation. She had played things too close to her chest, as was her habit, controlling the flow of information, playing God in her own little way. Shit , she thought. Now what?
There was no car outside the Korean barbecue place, just Sonny leaning against the wall, his eyes flitting in all directions, his vigilance a habit he couldn’t shake despite the fact that it was no longer so necessary. He saw Ava the moment she came into view, then stood straight and turned to face her. When she first met him, he had worn nothing but jeans and tight T-shirts that showed off a rock-hard body decorated with tattoos. The years with Uncle had mellowed him.
“Uncle says you should go right in,” he said.
He was sitting at a table in the back with two men she recognized from previous lunches. They were old comrades, now retired, and they met regularly to discuss the state of the world. None of the men stood as she approached, instead offering small smiles and nodding heads. “ Lang lei ,” one of them said.
Ava sat and Uncle poured her a cup of jasmine tea. There was no need for introductions. She sat quietly at the table as the men continued their conversation. They had long since finished eating, the last empty platters still on the table, the barbecue grill coated with remnants of meat and sauce. Finally one of them called for the bill, only to be told by Uncle that it was his turn to pay. Then everyone stood and there was a round of handshakes. The men made arrangements to meet the next week at a Shandong restaurant on the Kowloon side.
Uncle didn’t sit down until his friends had left the restaurant. Then he looked at Ava and said, “What has happened?”
She calmly repeated Michael’s story. When she was done, he shook his head in resignation. “How stupid can they be?”
“They run noodle shops and 7-Elevens,” she said.
“Over lunch I told Uncle Fong that Lok was causing a friend of mine some trouble. He knows Lok from before; he says he can be crazy. It was useful when he was a 49er, a fighter. He is smart, of course, and moved up in his society, but the craziness made him unfit to be anything but a Red Pole. Uncle Fong said a man like Lok should never have the autonomy he has.”
Ava had listened more than once to the old men complaining about the deterioration within the Three Harmonies Society — the unity between Heaven, Earth, and Man — and how the thirty-six traditional oaths had no meaning anymore. When the triads fought these days, it was normally against each other. They were more of a threat to themselves than the police. Ava didn’t feel like listening to another monologue on the good old days, even from Uncle. “What can I do?” she asked.
He poured more tea. “Nothing,” he said.
“That’s not possible.”
“It is practical, and you are a practical girl.”
“If we pay a ransom?”
“They will kill him, if he is not dead already.”
“You seem so sure.”
“Your brother’s partner will die whether you pay the ransom or not. That is how these people operate. You asked for my advice, there it is.”
“How about the threats to my brother?”
“They want to scare him into paying, probably nothing more than that.”
“They told Michael not to go to the police, that they would know if he did. How much truth is there to that?”
“Lok has been in Macau a long time, and as far as I know he has never spent an hour in jail, never had a single charge laid against him. This is a man who ran moneylenders, whorehouses, did some drug dealing, and when he got bored he would hire out himself and his men for contract killing — all rather visible and
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