FOR THE LOVE OF DOG - CHAPTER 1
FOR THE LOVE OF DOG
INTRODUCTION
It was headline news; at least in all the tabloids. A homeless woman wandering the streets of London had been rummaging through the bins of a prestigious restaurant in the heart of Chinatown, when she discovered a very large bone. Thinking it might be human she pointed it out to a passing street warden who called in the authorities.
In the event it turned out to be a large animal bone, but Trading Standards were intrigued to know what sort of animal was being prepared for public consumption, and instigated an enquiry. The premises were searched and some anomalies discovered; there were carcasses of dead dogs stowed in freezers and various pelts stashed about the premises. Two starving dogs were also found chained up in the cellar.
In the search certain packages were seized by forensics and found to contain copious amounts of pure opium. Three suspects were taken into custody and charged with numerous offences. The case involved Health and Safety personnel, the local council, the Drug Squad and even the Royal Society for the Protection of Animals. Three Chinese immigrants were charged; two men and a woman.
It transpired during their bail hearing that all three had been reared in an orphanage in Mainland China and had entered the country illegally. The ringleader, one Ping Hey Mung, was suspected of running a drug cartel in Chinatown, which garnered huge amounts of money. He was a very distinctive individual of huge build; not tall but very stocky with massive crab-like arms and a huge head which seemed implanted onto his shoulders. When he entered a room his bulk preceded him like a garland of pride, but Ping Hey was tough in the way some men like to think they are, for he had no fear of man or beast. He was not short of money either and had developed expensive tastes for fast cars and fast women. He owned a number of properties including the restaurant, a house in Chinatown, which rented out to his Chinese workers and a bungalow by the sea, near Hastings, on the south coast. He also possessed a formidable reputation and many enemies.
The other man, Lee Fong Chew had been a lifelong friend but was as different to him as chalk to cheese. He looked like life had mauled him, leaving memories etched in the craggy confines of his wrinkled face. Lee Fong was a simple soul who never much liked himself, also finding it difficult to relate to others. His hobby was making large kites and his only other pastime was the practice of match building where he would cut the heads off matches and construct ornate little buildings. He spent many hours making them and often managed to sell some to the customers in the restaurant. On Chinese New Year he would convert the match-heads into firecrackers to sell on the streets, but realised years ago he would never get rich, like his friend Ping Hey, and although he dreamt of marriage realised he was in no position to consider this. His only friends were his co-defendants, Ping Hey and La-Lu Wing.
La-Lu, on the other hand loved Lee Fong but kept her feelings secret because she had acquired certain tastes in life, namely an addiction to opium and an expensive lifestyle, catered for by her drug smuggling. Being strikingly beautiful enabled her to escape certain situations, which unfortunately had now caught up with her, but she was now prepared to accept the consequences and fully accepted her quilt.
Chapter One
Despite the promise of spring slivers of frost clung to the ornate spires of the Old Bailey. Through the hallowed corridors of the High Court ushers were hosting people to their places. “This court is now in session,”cried the ushers, as the public gallery settled down and various participants took their places.
“All rise”, called the clerk of the court. The Court all stood as the judge stalked in, resplendent in his ermine, cloak and wig. He felt these lent him a certain gravitas, sadly lacking by the rest of the court who were limited to more mundane attire.
As the judge took his seat, the clerk announced, “Court in session” enabling the ensemble of laymen and jurists to assert their presence, witha flamboyant rustling of papers, and clearing of throats. The Press, representing media from around the world, had spilled with vulturous intent from the Press Box into the confines of the public gallery.
In a more strident tone, the usher then declared, “Silence in court,” causing thenoisy cacophony of chatter and rustlings to cease, save for a few random coughs and a muffled buzz from the public gallery, making him repeat his demand,whereupon silence finally reigned.
This, reflected the judge, is a rather serious case with far–reaching and potentially political repercussions. It involved opium and heroin worth millions, being smuggled from Mainland China over a period of years, and apparently charges of animal cruelty and poisoning members of the public.
The judge himself was an animal lover but not a man renowned for his sense of humour or ebullience. Even in private residing at leisure in his country manor, his lady-wife found his demeanour, at best, taciturn.
High Court judges do acquire certain virtues as they move up the hierarchy of the judiciary: infinite patience, unassailable temperament, and the discernment of a sage. Coupled with decades of experience and a regal resolve, he was a formidable foe to any adversary. Even in atmospheres of confusion and mendacity, his rulings were always resolute and crystal clear, curbed with impartial advice, redolent of wisdom.
The three defendants were called to the dock to enter their pleas, which was the only time they would appear together, except when the verdicts were delivered. The dock surrounded a set of concrete steps, leading down to the holding cells; it was chest high and a buttress of spiked rails prevented any escape. The three defendants, all Chinese, stood flanked by prison guards who proceeded to remove their handcuffs.
They blinked in confusion as they suddenly found themselves in the middle of a massively orchestrated theatre and realized they were now centre stage. One by one they placed their right hands on a Bible and were sworn in.
“This isrisible,” thought the judge: all three have sworn oaths on the Bible and they’ve never heard of it before. He decided to explain to them that this oath consists of telling the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, and that anything less would be considered perjury, and they could still go to prison, even if found innocent.
His profound gaze rested on the trio; a pair of middle-aged men, flanked by a tall elegantly dressed woman, in her mid-thirties. They were all, he learned, illegal immigrants although one of them, Ping Hey, had been running a restaurant in the heart of Chinatown.
If this lot is eventually guilty, reflected the judge, I shall recommend deportation, after time served. He thought one of the men, Lee Fong, had a contrite air about him, and looked remorseful. The judge took a moment to study him.
With some people great sadness can be seen in their eyes, and Lee Fong was such a person. The eyes mirror the soul, the judge mused, and looking at his blank stare, devoid of emotion, the judge concluded this reprobate doesn’t appear to have soul. He looks too detached, and this usually means either he is unaware of his predicament, or he feels innocent.
The judge then studied Ping Hey. This one looks devious and cunning, and I expect he’s the ringleader. The judge observed Ping Hey looking furtively round the court, without moving his head, searching for anyone who could possibly implicate him. As the judge expected, the two men pleaded “not guilty,” to charges of possession and distribution of a class ‘A’ drug, namely heroin, which had been smuggled into the country by the woman, La Lu. She also pleaded not guilty to these charges as well as numerous counts of illegal importation of the drug.
The judge noted that La Lu carried an air of confidence, which suggested she did not scare easily. Although Chinese, her eyes did not betray her ethnicity unless, considered the judge, she had indulged in some of that popular surgery so many of her people tried, in efforts to straighten their eyes. She did look Westernized, with demure suit and long dark hair, coifed above her impeccable makeup. He tried to catch her eye but she never seemed able to look directly at him.
A sign of guilt, he surmised. He noted she possessed the high cheekbones of classic beauty, and sported petite firm breasts, which stood proud on her slender figure, enhanced by a slim waist and wide hips. She’s obviously never had kids, probably too selfish, he decided, but she’s certainly the most attractive woman in Court. He made a mental note not to let his judgment beclouded by her obvious beauty.
She and Ping Hey had their own barristers, who were Queens Councillors, and the judge realised the exorbitant expense of such a defence. He noted that Lee Fong could not afford one had been granted Legal Aid, for a court appointed lawyer.
The two men also faced further charges of theft, animal cruelty, and public health endangerment. The judge was not amused by the animal cruelty charges, which involved the theft and killing of a number of dogs. His favourite pastime was “riding to hounds” and he loved dogs, especially his old Dobermans, which he used to parade around his estate, but his favourite dog had recently gone missing.
As the case progressed, the prosecution set out to prove Ping Hey’smodus operandi, in conducting a legitimate restaurant business, but also supplying packages of heroin to clientele via take-away meals, which Lee Fong delivered on his moped.
The prosecution told the jury that La Lu secreted the heroin inside her body, on frequent trips from China using a number of false passports,and they laughed when told she used her frequent flyer points to purchase electronic kitchen scales to weigh out the packets of heroin. The jury then heard the prosecution claim that these were passed to Ping Hey, who now swore that although he knew about the drugs he thought she had acquired them locally with no smuggling involved.
The judge doubted this, as the trio had known each other since childhood when they were all in the same orphanage in Mainland China so it was unlikely she would have kept news of her trips back home a secret from her comrades. He listened when it was explained how the pure heroin was “stepped on” by Ping Hey, who diluted it with Novocain, a dental anaesthetic, before getting his simple-minded cohort, Lee Fong, to distribute it around Chinatown.
Ping Hey claimed that Fong knew the meals held packets of heroin, because he and La Lu organized it all behind his back. He did suspect what they were up to, but was powerless to stop them for fear of alienating his clientele, who would then boycott the restaurant.
He claimed Lee and La Lu never shared their ill-gotten gains with him, and he then begged the Courts indulgence for having allowed his premises to be used for such deplorable practices, swearing he had never touched the stuff in his whole life, which drew a ripple of amusement from the public gallery.
Unfortunately for him, Customs and Excise were involved in the case, and were able to enlighten the Court as to the various assets held by Mr. Hey. Apparently he owned not only the restaurant, but also a house in Chinatown, which he rented out to Chinese workers, one of whom was Lee Fong. He had also purchased a bungalow, by the seaside in Mugsborough, near Hastings, and had paid cash for a new Mercedes sports car, to complement his four-by-four, which DNA analysis proved was the vehicle used for transporting the dogs he stole.
The judge pondered these discrepancies until he remembered the cruelty charges. “Can you clarify the other charges?” he asked the prosecution.
“Certainly, Your Worship,” came the reply. “It would appear that these two men would drive out of town, to some remote park, near Hastings, where they would kidnap a large dog, bundle it into a four by four vehicle and keep it in the cellar beneath their restaurant, until needed.”
“Until needed?” queried the judge, conjuring a tone of naive innocence.
“Well, Your Worship,” continued the prosecution, “if the men could not seize a stray dog near to their place of work they would acquire one farther afield and store it in the cellar, under their restaurant to fatten it up.”
“To what purpose?” the judge asked. The prosecution is really labouring the point, he mused.
The prosecution then dropped their bombshell. “The dogs would be skinned alive, after being beaten with baseball bats, to ensure their flesh was full of adrenalin and later served to the public in the restaurant.”
At this point a lady juror fainted. The judge then decided to call a recess and Court was adjourned. The Press stormed out, grappling for their mobiles.
The judge retired to Chambers, where a snack of pate de foegrassand biscuits were served to him. He was well aware of oriental tastes and culinary expertise, but never imagined they would drop onto his doorstep. He had just indulged in a morsel of Stilton cheese when he suddenly remembered his wife had taken him some years ago to this very same restaurant, to celebrate their anniversary. He became incensed, for he realized he had probably eaten dog-meat. The fact his faithful old Doberman had gone missing did nothing to enhance his current disposition.
He now recalled how the Court learnt the dog’s pelts were then sold to a local furrier: Chinese; of course, who fashioned them into muffs, collars and gloves. Making a mental note to check the labelling on his wife’s fur-stole, he relished the imminent trial of this unusual furrier.
Meanwhile, down in the holding cells, the three defendants had time to reflect on the day’s events, as others gave evidence. Ping Hey wondered about the sensibilities of an English jury.
He muttered to himself, “If they think the way we kill dogs here is bad, they should see how we kill them in China; or how live monkeys are served at some dinner parties.”
Reality now hit Lee Fong like a sudden chill as he sensed the irony of a situation where they were all once again incarcerated together.
“This could be worse than the orphanage,” he thought. He recalled his escape from there, with Ping Hey, many years previous. He remembered all the years of hard work and sacrifice he went through in the dog markets, to buy his own little shack, only to have it demolished for the Beijing Olympics. He had received some compensation for his loss and felt fortunate, because many of his neighbours got nothing. He was resourceful enough to use this money to buy his way into Europe, eventually reaching his old friend in London, Ping Hey, who was delighted to offer him a home and a job for which he was very grateful.
Then he thought of La Lu, whom he had secretly loved and desired for years. She had been confined in the orphanage until she became of age on her fifteenth birthday, but he had escaped with Ping Hey when they were only twelve. She was only nine at the time, and he had no real interest in her. It was only when they met years later in the meat market, that he became infatuated.
She had been released into the care of some distant relatives, who were too overworked and poverty-stricken to be bothered by her, and because of her Western looks, she led a lonely life. Most of the villagers ostracized her; for it was common knowledge her father had come to China from the West as a missionary, and had disowned her before his return home.
She was taller than most girls in the orphanage; with a subtle blend of fine features that were not an asset in the orphanage, for she soon learnt her main role was to be subservient to all the custodians, men or women, in every way imaginable. Lee remembered how the adults, who were supposed to be guarding them, would drag the girls off in the middle of the night. The boys slept in separate dormitories to the girls, but could hear their screams echo in the dark of night.
The boys would interrogate the girls in the light of day, but none of the tear-stained victims ever offered any details. The boy’s imaginations took over where their knowledge ceased, and fevered horrors coursed through their minds, scarring them forever.
Lee remembered how the girls then behaved; they never spoke much, and never looked you in the eye; they also seemed to wash all the time. He remembered how these girls would walk round as though in a trance, never paying attention to their looks, and with scant regard for the heat of the sun. They were easy to spot, because they quickly grew emaciated and seemed very careless, often cutting themselves for reasons he could never fathom.
Within a few months most of them took their own lives, and nobody ever mentioned them again. It was the way of the world, thought Lee, and he was glad to be a boy.
La Lu, on the other hand, seemed different. She was sad to be a girl and never smiled much, but always managed to survive, for she knew and accepted that the male species ruled the orphanage, and that many of her sex were put down at birth. Her one childish dream was to get away, marry someone rich, and have children of her own, but she realized on reaching puberty, when she did not ovulate and was probably infertile. She figured out the constant sexual abuse was to blame, and resolved to tell no one, although this preyed on her mind.
Her grim past had giftedher with the patience and perseverance she now needed in the face of adversity.
Lee Fong thought of her now, as he realised she would once again be locked up at the mercy of others, probably to be abused again, and he wept.
But at least she had lived in the world a while, and had travelled, and seen things of which he only dreamed. He had always wanted to marry La-Lu, but never had the courage to ask for he sensed she saw him as a loser with no prospects. He felt she viewed him as some sort of inferior being; he certainly felt inferior for he had developed a limp as a result of a bad beating at the orphanage and suffered from a bad shoulder, which frequently dislocated itself. His back was also giving trouble for he had started to get severe spasms, which were almost unendurably painful. Being an illegal alien meant he could not seek medical advice and had to rely on the numbing qualities of Ping’s opium.
Ping Hey sat alone in his cell thinking of his old friend whom he first met in the orphanage when he was ten; Lee was only nine, and they had known each other since.
“Thirty years is a long time,” he thought. He remembered meeting this simple kid who looked up to him and called him his cousin. They would sometimes talk with La Lu, but she was younger, and never had much to say.
Ping was much stronger and smarter than Lee, and took him under his wing, protecting him from the bullies, who had once beaten him badly, breaking his leg. Ping even taught him how to steal food from the others and how to get extra food by pretending to be sick.
They gave each other solace and secrets in the secluded hostile home. One day he decided he would never go hungry again; that he would escape and always have lots of food to eat, and enough to feed others, like Lee. He would like that and, perhaps someday, might even make a living for himself.
By the time he was ten, he had planned their great escape. He took Lee into his confidence but they swore secrecy onlyto each other and did not tell La-Lu of their plans. When they left, they said goodbye to no one, except La-Lu.
Ping remembered the night they got into the van where the weekly laundry was stacked for collection. Some bags lay ready in the back so they climbed inside and found some with enough space to snuggle down inside but were nearly suffocated when all the other bags were piled on top of them in the morning.
However, as soon as they sensed the van leaving the compound, Ping managed to escape from his bag and release Lee. Thinking back, he now wished he had left him.
Although the incident occurred nearly twenty years ago it stayed fresh in his mind, like the time they smuggled themselves as young men across Europe, hiding for days, without food, beside the Channel Tunnel, in France.
They ran in the dark with scores of others to clamber beneath the night train bound for London and had to hang on desperately as the monster thundered beneath the sea, ploughing their path to freedom.
The Gendarmerie ignored the hordesas they scurried alongside the electric rails, because if they left on the train they were no longer France’s problem, and if they got run over and electrocuted they were no longer France’s problem.
So without a penny, and speaking only Mandarin, they managed to find their way to Chinatown, where an enigmatic old man befriended them, after they begged for food at his take-away restaurant. Ping then thought of the old man with the long white beard, who always seemed a comforting sight, beetling about his business, bent almost double. As Ping was so strong he was soon able to take over most of the chores, even shutting up shop at midnight, when the boys were then allowed to sleep in the cellar. When the old boy died, long afterwards, he left his little business to Ping, who slowly built it up over the years.
In the adjacent cell Lee was thinking of his old friend, who had so often saved his skin in the orphanage. He smiled as he recalled their friendship, remembering how Ping showed him how to dry out tea-leaves so they could be re-used, and how to roll cigarettes almost thinner than the matches used to light them.
He had not realized, until now, how Ping used him like a personal slave, getting him to do all the dirty work, while he hunted round for food. Ping hoarded everything;even old clothes which he grew out of, and which he would never throw away. He realized Ping was the meanest and greediest man he’d ever met, but he put this down to the deprivation they’d all endured in the orphanage. Yet, I never behaved like that, he reflected. Ping preferred to sleep in the cellar even when the old man offered them cheap rooms in a house he had purchased. He reasoned he could save some rent by bedding down in the cold cellar, and the old man seemed to admire him for that.
Lee would give any leftovers from the restaurant to beggars he met on the way home, whereas Ping would try to sell his scraps. Lee had seen so much suffering that he had developed a compassion for the underdog, while Ping just grew indifferent. Lee admitted this attitude seemed to pay off, for Ping, until now. What good are his fancy cars and houses now, he thought. It looks like he might well lose everything, including his freedom. Lee felt sad, until he realized thathe, personally, had nothing to lose, not even his freedom.
He knew what the verdict would be in regard to himself, but not tohis friends. He had done a deal with the prosecutor who bluntly informed him, “I know you’re innocent; you know you’re innocent, but if you want the jury to know, you’ll have to testify against your buddies. …You can walk today, or I’ll see you do ten years, sunshine.”
He had also promised that all serious charges against him would be dropped, with the rest considered as misdemeanours, if Lee agreed.
Through despair and panic, Lee agreed to turn Queen’s Evidence against Ping, but not La Lu. He had regrets about turning on Ping, who had tried to ‘stitch him up’, but he couldn’t bear the idea of hurting La-Lu, whom he realized he now loved more than ever.
But the prosecutor continued, “This is a package deal, all or nothing. If you agree you’ll get off with probation and a fine, and be free to sleep in your own bed tonight.” This suddenly seemed a very attractive option to Lee, who had spent the last six months on remand in Brixton prison. When the prosecutor threw in the carrot of temporary asylum, Lee reluctantly accepted the deal. The jury noted Lee’s obvious distress in testifying against La-Lu, even though he tried to be as economical with the truth, as he dared. Ping Hey’s barrister then interrogated Lee stating no one could be so naïve as to what was going on, but Lee had to admit he had always been very naïve, even in the orphanage, and trusted no one, This statement was verified by La-Lu who told the court that Ping was the complete opposite of Lee for although they had known each other for decades, Ping always put Ping first. It now seemed he would sacrifice anyone for his own ends. All three were now held in the cells, while the jury deliberated. Ping was furious at Lee for testifying against him, and was already considering methods of payback, when he was told a verdict had been reached, so with the others, was escorted back to the court, now pregnant with anticipation.
In his summing-up the judge agreed that Lee Fong had seen the error of his ways, and was truly repentant. Nevertheless, he was sentenced to eighteen months, which included a year’s suspended sentence but,with time already served on remand, this meant he was now a free man, although he was ‘bound over’ to keep the peace for two years, and banned from owning a dog for five years. Lee Fong was at a loss to fathom how ‘not keeping a dog’ was some form of punishment for he saw these creatures as noisy, dirty, smelly, flea-ridden vermin that served only one purpose. The judge also considered the prospect of a stiff fine, but decided against it for he figured, rightly so, that Lee Fong didn’t have two pennies to rub together. However, he took delight in sentencing Ping Hey to twelve years for the drug offences, and three years for public health disorders and hygiene breaches, with two yearsconcurrent, for animal cruelty, with a recommendation that he serve at least fifteen years.
“Your Honour,” cried his barrister, “My client can’t do fifteen years.”
“Let him try his best,” responded the judge, who also recommended deportation when finally released.
It was at this point everyone in court, including Ping, realized his life was virtually over; by the time he was freed he would be an old man with no assets, or contacts. Ping felt his life was now on hold; as if he had just escaped from the orphanage and was starting all over again, for he realized he had now lost everything.
In a fit of rage he bit his lip and spat at the judge. He had Hepatitis and was HIV positive; he hoped to anoint the judge with these afflictions, but the judge, who had seen such reactions before, quickly ducked down behind the Bench. Ping was forced to make a quick exit down the concrete steps, with some able assistance from the guards.
La-Lu was sentenced to a mere five years, the jury viewing her as a pawn of the evil Ping, but on hearing the verdict both she and Lee openly wept. She was then dragged off to await transport to prison, while Lee heard the judge declare that he was now free to go. He was advised not to leave immediately, to avoid the swarm of media hovering outside. While he waited he was told he could say goodbye to his old friends, in private, if he so chose.
He wanted to speak to Ping first, and was shown into a small room with a metal grill behind a partition. After a few minutes he heard ranting from behind the wall as Ping stomped into view. Lee was shocked by his appearance. His face was badly bruised where he had apparently tripped, going down the concrete steps from the docks, and he was still shaking with rage. He was not a happy man. “Judas,” he screamed at Lee, “all your fault, you weak, no balls,” he stormed. “You let me down, I get you for this.”
Lee objected, “You turned on me first,” he replied. “You tried to fit me up, to take the fall for you.” Ping was in no mood for discussion.
“You wait,” he screamed in Mandarin, “You die now. You both die, you and bitch La-Lu.” At this juncture Lee left the room; there was no point in staying. As he waited to see La-Lu, Lee sat alone and thought how trusting he had always been to both Ping and La-Lu, and how his naivety had caught up with him. Faith in his friends and conversely, human nature, was now been shattered. He could not believe how stupid he’d been, and it was not a good feeling.
He was then shown in to see La-Lu and heard she was going to Holloway, the high security women’s prison. He was relieved, in a way. It meant Ping could not reach her there, but he saw at once that she had been crying. “Lee,” she said, “I’m so sorry, involving you in all this; it’s all my fault.”
“No,” he objected, “it’s all Ping’s fault; he blackmailed you into smuggling the drugs for him.”
“Yes,” she replied, “but I wanted what he had; the money, the power, and respect. And …I wanted you, Lee,” she confessed.
“All I ever really wanted was to marry and have a family.” She reached for his hand, but all they could do was place their fingers against either side of the plastic grill. She avoided his eyes as he then confessed he could never father children because of a severe attack of mumps in the orphanage, but only she sensed the true irony of that statement.
“Let’s not dwell on the past,” she said at last. “The fact is I am guilty, and I have to pay the price. Let’s not discuss the case, for we’ve only got a few minutes.”
She then said, in a subdued voice. “I always wanted to tell you Lee …I loved you, and had plans for us, but you were so poor I needed to wait until we got money for I was sure you would reject me, if you found out how I was doing that.”
Lee sighed with relief; he now understood; he could neither read nor write, and knew he would be poor for the rest of his life. Up to now he had never understood this thing called love; was it need, or desire, or perhaps power! He now realized, too late, that it was mostly sacrifice in the pure gentleness of being able to give freely, with no expectation of return. He thought to himself; this love must only occur when the other person’s happiness becomes more important than your own.
Until now each of them had been mainly concerned with themselves but neither realized, as they sat together, that soon a dramatic series of events would radically alter all their futures.
La-Lu continued, “Lee, I want you to write me, in prison, and promise to wait for me; will you do that?” she asked, not realising Lee never learned to write.
“Of course,” he said uneasily. He had never known a woman’s love, and now that he did, it was to be at a distance, but he resolved to be free, to work hard and be able to provide for her on her release.
The prison van arrived and they had just moments to pledge their devotion, before she had to leave. He began to feel a lump rise in his throat, which he had never felt before and drank some water from the drinking fountain. It did not seem to help, for he kept trying to swallow and wondered if it was due to the dry central heating in the courtroom. He went down the steps and was let out, by a side door, into the street. It was raining, but Lee Fong never noticed.
He arrived back to his little attic room in the house owned by Ping Hey and squeaked open the front door, trudging up three flights of stairs to his landing, where he was confronted by the sight of two black plastic bags outside his door. Must check those in a minute, he thought, but just as he was trying the key to his room he heard High Fat, the caretaker, approaching. “You no go,” he squealed; “me change lock; you no live here no more.”
Lee persisted with the key, but was getting no-where. “Got to get in for my stuff,” he insisted.
“All stuff here,” High Fat retorted, pointing to the two bags that contained Lee’s clothes, which were all he possessed.
“Why you no in plison, where you belong?” He obviously thought Lee Fong was going to be locked up and had packed his gear.
“You find new room; you no live here no more,” he shouted. “You take money back; get new room,” he said, thrusting deposit money into Lee’s pocket.
“This your deposit: you keep; no spend; get room; you no live here no more.”
Lee slowly turned, picked up the bags and left, reflecting that soon High Fat would be in the same predicament when the court repossessed the house. Trudging down the stairs to the street, he smiled with irony, until he realised it was still raining. He was now homeless, in London. Not a good situation for anyone, especially a poor Chinaman, he thought. At least it was still light, so he headed to his old place of work, but was shocked to find the little restaurant already boarded up. However, clambering over a side fence to the yard where the garbage bins were kept found a dry place to spend the night.
I may be out in the open, but at least I’m sheltered from the worst of the weather, by the bins, he thought. Because the weather was now mild with little wind he did not notice the cold. He had money in his pocket, and he was not in prison. Feeling exhausted he soon fell asleep, with a resolve that in the morning he would get as far away from this place as he could, having decided that big cities simply destroy people.
Come morning Lee awoke to sunshine, and found his clothes had all dried out. Having some money in his pocket he now felt better than he had for ages. He strolled down the road to the nearest greasy-spoon café, where he tucked into a cheap breakfast. As he ate he considered his situation; “I will head for Hastings on the coast and find a room there, for I know it’s much cheaper than London, after all, which is why Ping bought his bungalow there.”
He liked Hastings, especially the beaches and the huge Alexandra Park, where the two of them often kidnapped dogs. He knew the area well. Siftinghis belongings into one bag, keeping only essentials, he disposed of a thick anorak. He then took the tube to Charing Cross Station, where he bought a cup of so-called tea, from a dispensing machine and ambled over to the ticket office. There were a number of booths, and the rush hour had passed, so he got served quickly.
“One way?” queried the clerk.
“You bet,” Lee responded.
“If you hurry, mate, you’ll catch the eleven forty, on platform eight,” he was told. Lee tossed his plastic cup into a nearby bin, shouldered his bag and ran for the train, just missing astump-toed pigeon, limping past.He noticed a passing skinhead suddenlystomp on the bird with his huge boots, instantly crushing it, and Lee reflected with surprise how little compassion he had felt for the creature. He rushed for his train, and once aboard felt relaxed. This is a fresh start, for sure, he thought, wondering what sort of job he would find in Hastings. He loved train journeys, except on the Tube. He had fallen down a long escalator once and, as he lay stunned, everybody just walked over him. He was so glad to escape London, the restaurant, and Ping Hey. Then he thought of La-Lu, and his mood changed to sadness. He was at a loss what to do.
“I must get a decent job, a proper job, and save up for a nice home. In five years she will be free; if we got married she could stay here as my wife. And…we would have a lovely home to live in together.
The Virgin Express was quiet and smooth, being one of the latest tilting trains, which angled over when taking a bend. Lee relaxed and reflected on his past; especially the times in the orphanage with Ping and La-Lu, recalling some happy memories like the yearly holiday outings on Chairman Mao’s birthday.
Only the boys were allowed on these trips, and of course the girls would want all the news when they returned. He smiled as he remembered trying to explain to La-Lu what his visit to the seaside had been like, for she had never seen the sea. She had cornered him, when he got back and begged to be told all about the waves. She was so young and innocent then and so different.
Lee felt happy as he tilted his seat back and daydreamed about the happiest day of his life. He recalled how he tried to explain his vision of the sea to La-Lu. He thought back to their conversation. “Have you really seen the sea?” she cried. “What’s it like? Tell me all about it?”
“We had to travel in a smelly old bus for hours, over the hills and mountain,” he told her.
“Go on,” she pleaded.
“Well, it starts as you drive down from the mountains to where the land levels out, and then you see it in the distance, stretching for a hundred miles, as it glints and sparkles in the sun.” She looked aghast.
He continued. “The clouds and mist just disappear and the wind dies down. Then you see the waves, shining in the sun, moving all the time, back and forth.”
“Oh, what are they like, describe them?”
“Well, far off in the distance all you can see is a straight line of water in front of you, called the horizon and all this is the ocean and it comes right up to the beach,” he told her.
“What’s the beach,” she interrupted.
“It’s made from sand; fine white sand, miles and miles of it,” he replied. “The water swishes and surges, and makes foam that rolls onto the beach,” he continued.
“Why doesn’t the beach sink?” she queried.
“Because it soaks the water up, until it drains back into the sea,” he replied. “Ping and I tried to dig down to the bottom of the sand, but it goes on for ever,” he said.
“To the other side of the earth?” she puzzled.
“Don’t know,” he replied. “Maybe.”
“So what happens to all the foam?” she inquired. “Is that the wave?”
“It’s part of the wave; the waves make foam all the time, called surf, and it forms when the waves come crashing down on each other,” he explained.
“How many waves are there, where do they come from?”
“There are usually three of them, in a row, and they start far out on the ocean,” he replied.
“And did you see all three of them?” she asked.
“It’s not like that; they come and they go, and disappear, and new ones take their place,” he explained.
“What do you mean?” she said, confused.
“Well, they start far out at sea, and steadily swell up, but they grow so high they collapse down on themselves, turning into surf. This is when they ‘break’, as it’s called. Then new waves start to form.”
“How big are they?” she asked. “Sometimes ten or even twelve feet high, and that’s why people drown,” he told her.
“Wow,” she exclaimed, “But why is the sand not washed away when these big waves break onto the beach?”
“It’s difficult to explain,” he answered. “Only the little ones end up on the beach; they’re only inches high; the big ones break far out at sea.”
“So when you go for a swim, you start with the little waves?” she asked.
“Yes, for the waves themselves are very long. The beach lays only a hundred metres from the sea, but stretches for miles.” He wanted to tell her about the little beach crabs, that scuttled back and forth with the foaming tide, but decided against it, remembering his failed attempts on the trip, to explain the colour of the wind, when the blind boy had asked him.
He continued. “It can be very dangerous; people drown by swallowing the waves…when they cannot get away.”
“I thought waves were beautiful,” she cried. “Why don’t they simply close their mouth and walk back to the beach?”
“Because the waves can drag you under. They sweep you off your feet and carry you out to sea, and then you drown and your body gets washed back onto the beach.”
She had paused to reflect, and he wondered at her innocence. He felt sad that she had not been able to visit the sea. He tried to explain to her; “Once you get past the big waves, the sea becomes calm and level, right to the horizon.” He wanted to convey the atmosphere to La-Lu. “The waves can move quickly, or slowly, depending on the wind and the tides.”
“Tides!” she exclaimed.
“Like currents, in a river.” La-Lu had once paddled in a river; it was actually a sewer, but she didn’t know that.
“The moon affects the size of the waves, like it affects people. Did you know some people go crazy, with a full moon, and of course it affects women, some of the time?”
She didn’t, but answered, “Yes.”
He continued. “When the moon grows big, the seas grow also, and that’s usually when people drown. Sometimes when you see a big wave coming you turn your back, and it washes over you, but the wave after that might be even bigger, and catch you by surprise. If you’re off balance you will be pushed over and sucked under the water. It’s called ‘going out of your depth.’
“Why not hold your breath, until it gets calm again?” she queried.
“It’s not as simple as that, for you get confused, tumbling under the water. You don’t even know which way is up to the surface. Besides you are choking and the sand and the salt sting your eyes and blind you.” He paused for these implications to register.
“So you swallow too much water and drown!” she concluded.
“No, what happens is when you get a bit of water in your lungs your throat closes up, to stop you sucking in any more. It’s an automatic reflex, but you can’t breathe, and your brain gets starved of air and goes to sleep.”
“And you drown,” La Lu surmised.
“Usually, but sometimes people who have been under water for half-an-hour, are washed up and given help to breathe again but if they come round, they usually have damage to their brain and cannot talk, or move normally,” Lee explained.
“So why do people go in the sea, if it can kill them?” she asked.
“Because they love the feeling of the water all around them; they can turn in any direction and the waves cool them down in the hot sun. I love it,” Lee concluded.
“Love it!” cried La-Lu, in surprise.
“Yes, … just before the waves break they seem to balance for a moment, as the wind whips a long crest of spray along the top and then they collapse and you can see this misty spray floating in the air; there is so much beauty and power in a big wave,” he replied.
“Is it a challenge for you, then?” she asked.
“In a way,” he answered, “because it is very refreshing, as well as dangerous and noisy.”
“Noisy, as well,” she responded.
“Yes; I should have told you. Waves are always noisy.”
“What, even at night?” she queried.
“Yes,” he answered. “All the time, day and night; mostly at night when you can hear them a long way off, crashing down on each other.”
La-Lu was very quiet then, as when the judge passed sentence on her, in the Courtthat morning.
Lee was jarred out of his daydream by the sound of the ticket collector.
“Tickets, please, all tickets please? Next stop Hastings.... Hastings, next stop.”
The train soon arrived at Hastings and deposited him at Warrior Square Station, in the heart of Mugsborough.
It was time for a new start.
INTRODUCTION
It was headline news; at least in all the tabloids. A homeless woman wandering the streets of London had been rummaging through the bins of a prestigious restaurant in the heart of Chinatown, when she discovered a very large bone. Thinking it might be human she pointed it out to a passing street warden who called in the authorities.
In the event it turned out to be a large animal bone, but Trading Standards were intrigued to know what sort of animal was being prepared for public consumption, and instigated an enquiry. The premises were searched and some anomalies discovered; there were carcasses of dead dogs stowed in freezers and various pelts stashed about the premises. Two starving dogs were also found chained up in the cellar.
In the search certain packages were seized by forensics and found to contain copious amounts of pure opium. Three suspects were taken into custody and charged with numerous offences. The case involved Health and Safety personnel, the local council, the Drug Squad and even the Royal Society for the Protection of Animals. Three Chinese immigrants were charged; two men and a woman.
It transpired during their bail hearing that all three had been reared in an orphanage in Mainland China and had entered the country illegally. The ringleader, one Ping Hey Mung, was suspected of running a drug cartel in Chinatown, which garnered huge amounts of money. He was a very distinctive individual of huge build; not tall but very stocky with massive crab-like arms and a huge head which seemed implanted onto his shoulders. When he entered a room his bulk preceded him like a garland of pride, but Ping Hey was tough in the way some men like to think they are, for he had no fear of man or beast. He was not short of money either and had developed expensive tastes for fast cars and fast women. He owned a number of properties including the restaurant, a house in Chinatown, which rented out to his Chinese workers and a bungalow by the sea, near Hastings, on the south coast. He also possessed a formidable reputation and many enemies.
The other man, Lee Fong Chew had been a lifelong friend but was as different to him as chalk to cheese. He looked like life had mauled him, leaving memories etched in the craggy confines of his wrinkled face. Lee Fong was a simple soul who never much liked himself, also finding it difficult to relate to others. His hobby was making large kites and his only other pastime was the practice of match building where he would cut the heads off matches and construct ornate little buildings. He spent many hours making them and often managed to sell some to the customers in the restaurant. On Chinese New Year he would convert the match-heads into firecrackers to sell on the streets, but realised years ago he would never get rich, like his friend Ping Hey, and although he dreamt of marriage realised he was in no position to consider this. His only friends were his co-defendants, Ping Hey and La-Lu Wing.
La-Lu, on the other hand loved Lee Fong but kept her feelings secret because she had acquired certain tastes in life, namely an addiction to opium and an expensive lifestyle, catered for by her drug smuggling. Being strikingly beautiful enabled her to escape certain situations, which unfortunately had now caught up with her, but she was now prepared to accept the consequences and fully accepted her quilt.
Chapter One
Despite the promise of spring slivers of frost clung to the ornate spires of the Old Bailey. Through the hallowed corridors of the High Court ushers were hosting people to their places. “This court is now in session,”cried the ushers, as the public gallery settled down and various participants took their places.
“All rise”, called the clerk of the court. The Court all stood as the judge stalked in, resplendent in his ermine, cloak and wig. He felt these lent him a certain gravitas, sadly lacking by the rest of the court who were limited to more mundane attire.
As the judge took his seat, the clerk announced, “Court in session” enabling the ensemble of laymen and jurists to assert their presence, witha flamboyant rustling of papers, and clearing of throats. The Press, representing media from around the world, had spilled with vulturous intent from the Press Box into the confines of the public gallery.
In a more strident tone, the usher then declared, “Silence in court,” causing thenoisy cacophony of chatter and rustlings to cease, save for a few random coughs and a muffled buzz from the public gallery, making him repeat his demand,whereupon silence finally reigned.
This, reflected the judge, is a rather serious case with far–reaching and potentially political repercussions. It involved opium and heroin worth millions, being smuggled from Mainland China over a period of years, and apparently charges of animal cruelty and poisoning members of the public.
The judge himself was an animal lover but not a man renowned for his sense of humour or ebullience. Even in private residing at leisure in his country manor, his lady-wife found his demeanour, at best, taciturn.
High Court judges do acquire certain virtues as they move up the hierarchy of the judiciary: infinite patience, unassailable temperament, and the discernment of a sage. Coupled with decades of experience and a regal resolve, he was a formidable foe to any adversary. Even in atmospheres of confusion and mendacity, his rulings were always resolute and crystal clear, curbed with impartial advice, redolent of wisdom.
The three defendants were called to the dock to enter their pleas, which was the only time they would appear together, except when the verdicts were delivered. The dock surrounded a set of concrete steps, leading down to the holding cells; it was chest high and a buttress of spiked rails prevented any escape. The three defendants, all Chinese, stood flanked by prison guards who proceeded to remove their handcuffs.
They blinked in confusion as they suddenly found themselves in the middle of a massively orchestrated theatre and realized they were now centre stage. One by one they placed their right hands on a Bible and were sworn in.
“This isrisible,” thought the judge: all three have sworn oaths on the Bible and they’ve never heard of it before. He decided to explain to them that this oath consists of telling the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, and that anything less would be considered perjury, and they could still go to prison, even if found innocent.
His profound gaze rested on the trio; a pair of middle-aged men, flanked by a tall elegantly dressed woman, in her mid-thirties. They were all, he learned, illegal immigrants although one of them, Ping Hey, had been running a restaurant in the heart of Chinatown.
If this lot is eventually guilty, reflected the judge, I shall recommend deportation, after time served. He thought one of the men, Lee Fong, had a contrite air about him, and looked remorseful. The judge took a moment to study him.
With some people great sadness can be seen in their eyes, and Lee Fong was such a person. The eyes mirror the soul, the judge mused, and looking at his blank stare, devoid of emotion, the judge concluded this reprobate doesn’t appear to have soul. He looks too detached, and this usually means either he is unaware of his predicament, or he feels innocent.
The judge then studied Ping Hey. This one looks devious and cunning, and I expect he’s the ringleader. The judge observed Ping Hey looking furtively round the court, without moving his head, searching for anyone who could possibly implicate him. As the judge expected, the two men pleaded “not guilty,” to charges of possession and distribution of a class ‘A’ drug, namely heroin, which had been smuggled into the country by the woman, La Lu. She also pleaded not guilty to these charges as well as numerous counts of illegal importation of the drug.
The judge noted that La Lu carried an air of confidence, which suggested she did not scare easily. Although Chinese, her eyes did not betray her ethnicity unless, considered the judge, she had indulged in some of that popular surgery so many of her people tried, in efforts to straighten their eyes. She did look Westernized, with demure suit and long dark hair, coifed above her impeccable makeup. He tried to catch her eye but she never seemed able to look directly at him.
A sign of guilt, he surmised. He noted she possessed the high cheekbones of classic beauty, and sported petite firm breasts, which stood proud on her slender figure, enhanced by a slim waist and wide hips. She’s obviously never had kids, probably too selfish, he decided, but she’s certainly the most attractive woman in Court. He made a mental note not to let his judgment beclouded by her obvious beauty.
She and Ping Hey had their own barristers, who were Queens Councillors, and the judge realised the exorbitant expense of such a defence. He noted that Lee Fong could not afford one had been granted Legal Aid, for a court appointed lawyer.
The two men also faced further charges of theft, animal cruelty, and public health endangerment. The judge was not amused by the animal cruelty charges, which involved the theft and killing of a number of dogs. His favourite pastime was “riding to hounds” and he loved dogs, especially his old Dobermans, which he used to parade around his estate, but his favourite dog had recently gone missing.
As the case progressed, the prosecution set out to prove Ping Hey’smodus operandi, in conducting a legitimate restaurant business, but also supplying packages of heroin to clientele via take-away meals, which Lee Fong delivered on his moped.
The prosecution told the jury that La Lu secreted the heroin inside her body, on frequent trips from China using a number of false passports,and they laughed when told she used her frequent flyer points to purchase electronic kitchen scales to weigh out the packets of heroin. The jury then heard the prosecution claim that these were passed to Ping Hey, who now swore that although he knew about the drugs he thought she had acquired them locally with no smuggling involved.
The judge doubted this, as the trio had known each other since childhood when they were all in the same orphanage in Mainland China so it was unlikely she would have kept news of her trips back home a secret from her comrades. He listened when it was explained how the pure heroin was “stepped on” by Ping Hey, who diluted it with Novocain, a dental anaesthetic, before getting his simple-minded cohort, Lee Fong, to distribute it around Chinatown.
Ping Hey claimed that Fong knew the meals held packets of heroin, because he and La Lu organized it all behind his back. He did suspect what they were up to, but was powerless to stop them for fear of alienating his clientele, who would then boycott the restaurant.
He claimed Lee and La Lu never shared their ill-gotten gains with him, and he then begged the Courts indulgence for having allowed his premises to be used for such deplorable practices, swearing he had never touched the stuff in his whole life, which drew a ripple of amusement from the public gallery.
Unfortunately for him, Customs and Excise were involved in the case, and were able to enlighten the Court as to the various assets held by Mr. Hey. Apparently he owned not only the restaurant, but also a house in Chinatown, which he rented out to Chinese workers, one of whom was Lee Fong. He had also purchased a bungalow, by the seaside in Mugsborough, near Hastings, and had paid cash for a new Mercedes sports car, to complement his four-by-four, which DNA analysis proved was the vehicle used for transporting the dogs he stole.
The judge pondered these discrepancies until he remembered the cruelty charges. “Can you clarify the other charges?” he asked the prosecution.
“Certainly, Your Worship,” came the reply. “It would appear that these two men would drive out of town, to some remote park, near Hastings, where they would kidnap a large dog, bundle it into a four by four vehicle and keep it in the cellar beneath their restaurant, until needed.”
“Until needed?” queried the judge, conjuring a tone of naive innocence.
“Well, Your Worship,” continued the prosecution, “if the men could not seize a stray dog near to their place of work they would acquire one farther afield and store it in the cellar, under their restaurant to fatten it up.”
“To what purpose?” the judge asked. The prosecution is really labouring the point, he mused.
The prosecution then dropped their bombshell. “The dogs would be skinned alive, after being beaten with baseball bats, to ensure their flesh was full of adrenalin and later served to the public in the restaurant.”
At this point a lady juror fainted. The judge then decided to call a recess and Court was adjourned. The Press stormed out, grappling for their mobiles.
The judge retired to Chambers, where a snack of pate de foegrassand biscuits were served to him. He was well aware of oriental tastes and culinary expertise, but never imagined they would drop onto his doorstep. He had just indulged in a morsel of Stilton cheese when he suddenly remembered his wife had taken him some years ago to this very same restaurant, to celebrate their anniversary. He became incensed, for he realized he had probably eaten dog-meat. The fact his faithful old Doberman had gone missing did nothing to enhance his current disposition.
He now recalled how the Court learnt the dog’s pelts were then sold to a local furrier: Chinese; of course, who fashioned them into muffs, collars and gloves. Making a mental note to check the labelling on his wife’s fur-stole, he relished the imminent trial of this unusual furrier.
Meanwhile, down in the holding cells, the three defendants had time to reflect on the day’s events, as others gave evidence. Ping Hey wondered about the sensibilities of an English jury.
He muttered to himself, “If they think the way we kill dogs here is bad, they should see how we kill them in China; or how live monkeys are served at some dinner parties.”
Reality now hit Lee Fong like a sudden chill as he sensed the irony of a situation where they were all once again incarcerated together.
“This could be worse than the orphanage,” he thought. He recalled his escape from there, with Ping Hey, many years previous. He remembered all the years of hard work and sacrifice he went through in the dog markets, to buy his own little shack, only to have it demolished for the Beijing Olympics. He had received some compensation for his loss and felt fortunate, because many of his neighbours got nothing. He was resourceful enough to use this money to buy his way into Europe, eventually reaching his old friend in London, Ping Hey, who was delighted to offer him a home and a job for which he was very grateful.
Then he thought of La Lu, whom he had secretly loved and desired for years. She had been confined in the orphanage until she became of age on her fifteenth birthday, but he had escaped with Ping Hey when they were only twelve. She was only nine at the time, and he had no real interest in her. It was only when they met years later in the meat market, that he became infatuated.
She had been released into the care of some distant relatives, who were too overworked and poverty-stricken to be bothered by her, and because of her Western looks, she led a lonely life. Most of the villagers ostracized her; for it was common knowledge her father had come to China from the West as a missionary, and had disowned her before his return home.
She was taller than most girls in the orphanage; with a subtle blend of fine features that were not an asset in the orphanage, for she soon learnt her main role was to be subservient to all the custodians, men or women, in every way imaginable. Lee remembered how the adults, who were supposed to be guarding them, would drag the girls off in the middle of the night. The boys slept in separate dormitories to the girls, but could hear their screams echo in the dark of night.
The boys would interrogate the girls in the light of day, but none of the tear-stained victims ever offered any details. The boy’s imaginations took over where their knowledge ceased, and fevered horrors coursed through their minds, scarring them forever.
Lee remembered how the girls then behaved; they never spoke much, and never looked you in the eye; they also seemed to wash all the time. He remembered how these girls would walk round as though in a trance, never paying attention to their looks, and with scant regard for the heat of the sun. They were easy to spot, because they quickly grew emaciated and seemed very careless, often cutting themselves for reasons he could never fathom.
Within a few months most of them took their own lives, and nobody ever mentioned them again. It was the way of the world, thought Lee, and he was glad to be a boy.
La Lu, on the other hand, seemed different. She was sad to be a girl and never smiled much, but always managed to survive, for she knew and accepted that the male species ruled the orphanage, and that many of her sex were put down at birth. Her one childish dream was to get away, marry someone rich, and have children of her own, but she realized on reaching puberty, when she did not ovulate and was probably infertile. She figured out the constant sexual abuse was to blame, and resolved to tell no one, although this preyed on her mind.
Her grim past had giftedher with the patience and perseverance she now needed in the face of adversity.
Lee Fong thought of her now, as he realised she would once again be locked up at the mercy of others, probably to be abused again, and he wept.
But at least she had lived in the world a while, and had travelled, and seen things of which he only dreamed. He had always wanted to marry La-Lu, but never had the courage to ask for he sensed she saw him as a loser with no prospects. He felt she viewed him as some sort of inferior being; he certainly felt inferior for he had developed a limp as a result of a bad beating at the orphanage and suffered from a bad shoulder, which frequently dislocated itself. His back was also giving trouble for he had started to get severe spasms, which were almost unendurably painful. Being an illegal alien meant he could not seek medical advice and had to rely on the numbing qualities of Ping’s opium.
Ping Hey sat alone in his cell thinking of his old friend whom he first met in the orphanage when he was ten; Lee was only nine, and they had known each other since.
“Thirty years is a long time,” he thought. He remembered meeting this simple kid who looked up to him and called him his cousin. They would sometimes talk with La Lu, but she was younger, and never had much to say.
Ping was much stronger and smarter than Lee, and took him under his wing, protecting him from the bullies, who had once beaten him badly, breaking his leg. Ping even taught him how to steal food from the others and how to get extra food by pretending to be sick.
They gave each other solace and secrets in the secluded hostile home. One day he decided he would never go hungry again; that he would escape and always have lots of food to eat, and enough to feed others, like Lee. He would like that and, perhaps someday, might even make a living for himself.
By the time he was ten, he had planned their great escape. He took Lee into his confidence but they swore secrecy onlyto each other and did not tell La-Lu of their plans. When they left, they said goodbye to no one, except La-Lu.
Ping remembered the night they got into the van where the weekly laundry was stacked for collection. Some bags lay ready in the back so they climbed inside and found some with enough space to snuggle down inside but were nearly suffocated when all the other bags were piled on top of them in the morning.
However, as soon as they sensed the van leaving the compound, Ping managed to escape from his bag and release Lee. Thinking back, he now wished he had left him.
Although the incident occurred nearly twenty years ago it stayed fresh in his mind, like the time they smuggled themselves as young men across Europe, hiding for days, without food, beside the Channel Tunnel, in France.
They ran in the dark with scores of others to clamber beneath the night train bound for London and had to hang on desperately as the monster thundered beneath the sea, ploughing their path to freedom.
The Gendarmerie ignored the hordesas they scurried alongside the electric rails, because if they left on the train they were no longer France’s problem, and if they got run over and electrocuted they were no longer France’s problem.
So without a penny, and speaking only Mandarin, they managed to find their way to Chinatown, where an enigmatic old man befriended them, after they begged for food at his take-away restaurant. Ping then thought of the old man with the long white beard, who always seemed a comforting sight, beetling about his business, bent almost double. As Ping was so strong he was soon able to take over most of the chores, even shutting up shop at midnight, when the boys were then allowed to sleep in the cellar. When the old boy died, long afterwards, he left his little business to Ping, who slowly built it up over the years.
In the adjacent cell Lee was thinking of his old friend, who had so often saved his skin in the orphanage. He smiled as he recalled their friendship, remembering how Ping showed him how to dry out tea-leaves so they could be re-used, and how to roll cigarettes almost thinner than the matches used to light them.
He had not realized, until now, how Ping used him like a personal slave, getting him to do all the dirty work, while he hunted round for food. Ping hoarded everything;even old clothes which he grew out of, and which he would never throw away. He realized Ping was the meanest and greediest man he’d ever met, but he put this down to the deprivation they’d all endured in the orphanage. Yet, I never behaved like that, he reflected. Ping preferred to sleep in the cellar even when the old man offered them cheap rooms in a house he had purchased. He reasoned he could save some rent by bedding down in the cold cellar, and the old man seemed to admire him for that.
Lee would give any leftovers from the restaurant to beggars he met on the way home, whereas Ping would try to sell his scraps. Lee had seen so much suffering that he had developed a compassion for the underdog, while Ping just grew indifferent. Lee admitted this attitude seemed to pay off, for Ping, until now. What good are his fancy cars and houses now, he thought. It looks like he might well lose everything, including his freedom. Lee felt sad, until he realized thathe, personally, had nothing to lose, not even his freedom.
He knew what the verdict would be in regard to himself, but not tohis friends. He had done a deal with the prosecutor who bluntly informed him, “I know you’re innocent; you know you’re innocent, but if you want the jury to know, you’ll have to testify against your buddies. …You can walk today, or I’ll see you do ten years, sunshine.”
He had also promised that all serious charges against him would be dropped, with the rest considered as misdemeanours, if Lee agreed.
Through despair and panic, Lee agreed to turn Queen’s Evidence against Ping, but not La Lu. He had regrets about turning on Ping, who had tried to ‘stitch him up’, but he couldn’t bear the idea of hurting La-Lu, whom he realized he now loved more than ever.
But the prosecutor continued, “This is a package deal, all or nothing. If you agree you’ll get off with probation and a fine, and be free to sleep in your own bed tonight.” This suddenly seemed a very attractive option to Lee, who had spent the last six months on remand in Brixton prison. When the prosecutor threw in the carrot of temporary asylum, Lee reluctantly accepted the deal. The jury noted Lee’s obvious distress in testifying against La-Lu, even though he tried to be as economical with the truth, as he dared. Ping Hey’s barrister then interrogated Lee stating no one could be so naïve as to what was going on, but Lee had to admit he had always been very naïve, even in the orphanage, and trusted no one, This statement was verified by La-Lu who told the court that Ping was the complete opposite of Lee for although they had known each other for decades, Ping always put Ping first. It now seemed he would sacrifice anyone for his own ends. All three were now held in the cells, while the jury deliberated. Ping was furious at Lee for testifying against him, and was already considering methods of payback, when he was told a verdict had been reached, so with the others, was escorted back to the court, now pregnant with anticipation.
In his summing-up the judge agreed that Lee Fong had seen the error of his ways, and was truly repentant. Nevertheless, he was sentenced to eighteen months, which included a year’s suspended sentence but,with time already served on remand, this meant he was now a free man, although he was ‘bound over’ to keep the peace for two years, and banned from owning a dog for five years. Lee Fong was at a loss to fathom how ‘not keeping a dog’ was some form of punishment for he saw these creatures as noisy, dirty, smelly, flea-ridden vermin that served only one purpose. The judge also considered the prospect of a stiff fine, but decided against it for he figured, rightly so, that Lee Fong didn’t have two pennies to rub together. However, he took delight in sentencing Ping Hey to twelve years for the drug offences, and three years for public health disorders and hygiene breaches, with two yearsconcurrent, for animal cruelty, with a recommendation that he serve at least fifteen years.
“Your Honour,” cried his barrister, “My client can’t do fifteen years.”
“Let him try his best,” responded the judge, who also recommended deportation when finally released.
It was at this point everyone in court, including Ping, realized his life was virtually over; by the time he was freed he would be an old man with no assets, or contacts. Ping felt his life was now on hold; as if he had just escaped from the orphanage and was starting all over again, for he realized he had now lost everything.
In a fit of rage he bit his lip and spat at the judge. He had Hepatitis and was HIV positive; he hoped to anoint the judge with these afflictions, but the judge, who had seen such reactions before, quickly ducked down behind the Bench. Ping was forced to make a quick exit down the concrete steps, with some able assistance from the guards.
La-Lu was sentenced to a mere five years, the jury viewing her as a pawn of the evil Ping, but on hearing the verdict both she and Lee openly wept. She was then dragged off to await transport to prison, while Lee heard the judge declare that he was now free to go. He was advised not to leave immediately, to avoid the swarm of media hovering outside. While he waited he was told he could say goodbye to his old friends, in private, if he so chose.
He wanted to speak to Ping first, and was shown into a small room with a metal grill behind a partition. After a few minutes he heard ranting from behind the wall as Ping stomped into view. Lee was shocked by his appearance. His face was badly bruised where he had apparently tripped, going down the concrete steps from the docks, and he was still shaking with rage. He was not a happy man. “Judas,” he screamed at Lee, “all your fault, you weak, no balls,” he stormed. “You let me down, I get you for this.”
Lee objected, “You turned on me first,” he replied. “You tried to fit me up, to take the fall for you.” Ping was in no mood for discussion.
“You wait,” he screamed in Mandarin, “You die now. You both die, you and bitch La-Lu.” At this juncture Lee left the room; there was no point in staying. As he waited to see La-Lu, Lee sat alone and thought how trusting he had always been to both Ping and La-Lu, and how his naivety had caught up with him. Faith in his friends and conversely, human nature, was now been shattered. He could not believe how stupid he’d been, and it was not a good feeling.
He was then shown in to see La-Lu and heard she was going to Holloway, the high security women’s prison. He was relieved, in a way. It meant Ping could not reach her there, but he saw at once that she had been crying. “Lee,” she said, “I’m so sorry, involving you in all this; it’s all my fault.”
“No,” he objected, “it’s all Ping’s fault; he blackmailed you into smuggling the drugs for him.”
“Yes,” she replied, “but I wanted what he had; the money, the power, and respect. And …I wanted you, Lee,” she confessed.
“All I ever really wanted was to marry and have a family.” She reached for his hand, but all they could do was place their fingers against either side of the plastic grill. She avoided his eyes as he then confessed he could never father children because of a severe attack of mumps in the orphanage, but only she sensed the true irony of that statement.
“Let’s not dwell on the past,” she said at last. “The fact is I am guilty, and I have to pay the price. Let’s not discuss the case, for we’ve only got a few minutes.”
She then said, in a subdued voice. “I always wanted to tell you Lee …I loved you, and had plans for us, but you were so poor I needed to wait until we got money for I was sure you would reject me, if you found out how I was doing that.”
Lee sighed with relief; he now understood; he could neither read nor write, and knew he would be poor for the rest of his life. Up to now he had never understood this thing called love; was it need, or desire, or perhaps power! He now realized, too late, that it was mostly sacrifice in the pure gentleness of being able to give freely, with no expectation of return. He thought to himself; this love must only occur when the other person’s happiness becomes more important than your own.
Until now each of them had been mainly concerned with themselves but neither realized, as they sat together, that soon a dramatic series of events would radically alter all their futures.
La-Lu continued, “Lee, I want you to write me, in prison, and promise to wait for me; will you do that?” she asked, not realising Lee never learned to write.
“Of course,” he said uneasily. He had never known a woman’s love, and now that he did, it was to be at a distance, but he resolved to be free, to work hard and be able to provide for her on her release.
The prison van arrived and they had just moments to pledge their devotion, before she had to leave. He began to feel a lump rise in his throat, which he had never felt before and drank some water from the drinking fountain. It did not seem to help, for he kept trying to swallow and wondered if it was due to the dry central heating in the courtroom. He went down the steps and was let out, by a side door, into the street. It was raining, but Lee Fong never noticed.
He arrived back to his little attic room in the house owned by Ping Hey and squeaked open the front door, trudging up three flights of stairs to his landing, where he was confronted by the sight of two black plastic bags outside his door. Must check those in a minute, he thought, but just as he was trying the key to his room he heard High Fat, the caretaker, approaching. “You no go,” he squealed; “me change lock; you no live here no more.”
Lee persisted with the key, but was getting no-where. “Got to get in for my stuff,” he insisted.
“All stuff here,” High Fat retorted, pointing to the two bags that contained Lee’s clothes, which were all he possessed.
“Why you no in plison, where you belong?” He obviously thought Lee Fong was going to be locked up and had packed his gear.
“You find new room; you no live here no more,” he shouted. “You take money back; get new room,” he said, thrusting deposit money into Lee’s pocket.
“This your deposit: you keep; no spend; get room; you no live here no more.”
Lee slowly turned, picked up the bags and left, reflecting that soon High Fat would be in the same predicament when the court repossessed the house. Trudging down the stairs to the street, he smiled with irony, until he realised it was still raining. He was now homeless, in London. Not a good situation for anyone, especially a poor Chinaman, he thought. At least it was still light, so he headed to his old place of work, but was shocked to find the little restaurant already boarded up. However, clambering over a side fence to the yard where the garbage bins were kept found a dry place to spend the night.
I may be out in the open, but at least I’m sheltered from the worst of the weather, by the bins, he thought. Because the weather was now mild with little wind he did not notice the cold. He had money in his pocket, and he was not in prison. Feeling exhausted he soon fell asleep, with a resolve that in the morning he would get as far away from this place as he could, having decided that big cities simply destroy people.
Come morning Lee awoke to sunshine, and found his clothes had all dried out. Having some money in his pocket he now felt better than he had for ages. He strolled down the road to the nearest greasy-spoon café, where he tucked into a cheap breakfast. As he ate he considered his situation; “I will head for Hastings on the coast and find a room there, for I know it’s much cheaper than London, after all, which is why Ping bought his bungalow there.”
He liked Hastings, especially the beaches and the huge Alexandra Park, where the two of them often kidnapped dogs. He knew the area well. Siftinghis belongings into one bag, keeping only essentials, he disposed of a thick anorak. He then took the tube to Charing Cross Station, where he bought a cup of so-called tea, from a dispensing machine and ambled over to the ticket office. There were a number of booths, and the rush hour had passed, so he got served quickly.
“One way?” queried the clerk.
“You bet,” Lee responded.
“If you hurry, mate, you’ll catch the eleven forty, on platform eight,” he was told. Lee tossed his plastic cup into a nearby bin, shouldered his bag and ran for the train, just missing astump-toed pigeon, limping past.He noticed a passing skinhead suddenlystomp on the bird with his huge boots, instantly crushing it, and Lee reflected with surprise how little compassion he had felt for the creature. He rushed for his train, and once aboard felt relaxed. This is a fresh start, for sure, he thought, wondering what sort of job he would find in Hastings. He loved train journeys, except on the Tube. He had fallen down a long escalator once and, as he lay stunned, everybody just walked over him. He was so glad to escape London, the restaurant, and Ping Hey. Then he thought of La-Lu, and his mood changed to sadness. He was at a loss what to do.
“I must get a decent job, a proper job, and save up for a nice home. In five years she will be free; if we got married she could stay here as my wife. And…we would have a lovely home to live in together.
The Virgin Express was quiet and smooth, being one of the latest tilting trains, which angled over when taking a bend. Lee relaxed and reflected on his past; especially the times in the orphanage with Ping and La-Lu, recalling some happy memories like the yearly holiday outings on Chairman Mao’s birthday.
Only the boys were allowed on these trips, and of course the girls would want all the news when they returned. He smiled as he remembered trying to explain to La-Lu what his visit to the seaside had been like, for she had never seen the sea. She had cornered him, when he got back and begged to be told all about the waves. She was so young and innocent then and so different.
Lee felt happy as he tilted his seat back and daydreamed about the happiest day of his life. He recalled how he tried to explain his vision of the sea to La-Lu. He thought back to their conversation. “Have you really seen the sea?” she cried. “What’s it like? Tell me all about it?”
“We had to travel in a smelly old bus for hours, over the hills and mountain,” he told her.
“Go on,” she pleaded.
“Well, it starts as you drive down from the mountains to where the land levels out, and then you see it in the distance, stretching for a hundred miles, as it glints and sparkles in the sun.” She looked aghast.
He continued. “The clouds and mist just disappear and the wind dies down. Then you see the waves, shining in the sun, moving all the time, back and forth.”
“Oh, what are they like, describe them?”
“Well, far off in the distance all you can see is a straight line of water in front of you, called the horizon and all this is the ocean and it comes right up to the beach,” he told her.
“What’s the beach,” she interrupted.
“It’s made from sand; fine white sand, miles and miles of it,” he replied. “The water swishes and surges, and makes foam that rolls onto the beach,” he continued.
“Why doesn’t the beach sink?” she queried.
“Because it soaks the water up, until it drains back into the sea,” he replied. “Ping and I tried to dig down to the bottom of the sand, but it goes on for ever,” he said.
“To the other side of the earth?” she puzzled.
“Don’t know,” he replied. “Maybe.”
“So what happens to all the foam?” she inquired. “Is that the wave?”
“It’s part of the wave; the waves make foam all the time, called surf, and it forms when the waves come crashing down on each other,” he explained.
“How many waves are there, where do they come from?”
“There are usually three of them, in a row, and they start far out on the ocean,” he replied.
“And did you see all three of them?” she asked.
“It’s not like that; they come and they go, and disappear, and new ones take their place,” he explained.
“What do you mean?” she said, confused.
“Well, they start far out at sea, and steadily swell up, but they grow so high they collapse down on themselves, turning into surf. This is when they ‘break’, as it’s called. Then new waves start to form.”
“How big are they?” she asked. “Sometimes ten or even twelve feet high, and that’s why people drown,” he told her.
“Wow,” she exclaimed, “But why is the sand not washed away when these big waves break onto the beach?”
“It’s difficult to explain,” he answered. “Only the little ones end up on the beach; they’re only inches high; the big ones break far out at sea.”
“So when you go for a swim, you start with the little waves?” she asked.
“Yes, for the waves themselves are very long. The beach lays only a hundred metres from the sea, but stretches for miles.” He wanted to tell her about the little beach crabs, that scuttled back and forth with the foaming tide, but decided against it, remembering his failed attempts on the trip, to explain the colour of the wind, when the blind boy had asked him.
He continued. “It can be very dangerous; people drown by swallowing the waves…when they cannot get away.”
“I thought waves were beautiful,” she cried. “Why don’t they simply close their mouth and walk back to the beach?”
“Because the waves can drag you under. They sweep you off your feet and carry you out to sea, and then you drown and your body gets washed back onto the beach.”
She had paused to reflect, and he wondered at her innocence. He felt sad that she had not been able to visit the sea. He tried to explain to her; “Once you get past the big waves, the sea becomes calm and level, right to the horizon.” He wanted to convey the atmosphere to La-Lu. “The waves can move quickly, or slowly, depending on the wind and the tides.”
“Tides!” she exclaimed.
“Like currents, in a river.” La-Lu had once paddled in a river; it was actually a sewer, but she didn’t know that.
“The moon affects the size of the waves, like it affects people. Did you know some people go crazy, with a full moon, and of course it affects women, some of the time?”
She didn’t, but answered, “Yes.”
He continued. “When the moon grows big, the seas grow also, and that’s usually when people drown. Sometimes when you see a big wave coming you turn your back, and it washes over you, but the wave after that might be even bigger, and catch you by surprise. If you’re off balance you will be pushed over and sucked under the water. It’s called ‘going out of your depth.’
“Why not hold your breath, until it gets calm again?” she queried.
“It’s not as simple as that, for you get confused, tumbling under the water. You don’t even know which way is up to the surface. Besides you are choking and the sand and the salt sting your eyes and blind you.” He paused for these implications to register.
“So you swallow too much water and drown!” she concluded.
“No, what happens is when you get a bit of water in your lungs your throat closes up, to stop you sucking in any more. It’s an automatic reflex, but you can’t breathe, and your brain gets starved of air and goes to sleep.”
“And you drown,” La Lu surmised.
“Usually, but sometimes people who have been under water for half-an-hour, are washed up and given help to breathe again but if they come round, they usually have damage to their brain and cannot talk, or move normally,” Lee explained.
“So why do people go in the sea, if it can kill them?” she asked.
“Because they love the feeling of the water all around them; they can turn in any direction and the waves cool them down in the hot sun. I love it,” Lee concluded.
“Love it!” cried La-Lu, in surprise.
“Yes, … just before the waves break they seem to balance for a moment, as the wind whips a long crest of spray along the top and then they collapse and you can see this misty spray floating in the air; there is so much beauty and power in a big wave,” he replied.
“Is it a challenge for you, then?” she asked.
“In a way,” he answered, “because it is very refreshing, as well as dangerous and noisy.”
“Noisy, as well,” she responded.
“Yes; I should have told you. Waves are always noisy.”
“What, even at night?” she queried.
“Yes,” he answered. “All the time, day and night; mostly at night when you can hear them a long way off, crashing down on each other.”
La-Lu was very quiet then, as when the judge passed sentence on her, in the Courtthat morning.
Lee was jarred out of his daydream by the sound of the ticket collector.
“Tickets, please, all tickets please? Next stop Hastings.... Hastings, next stop.”
The train soon arrived at Hastings and deposited him at Warrior Square Station, in the heart of Mugsborough.
It was time for a new start.