The Chinese Woman: The Barbados Conspiracy Read online

  THE CHINESE WOMAN

  THE BARBADOS CONSPIRACY

  A NOVEL BY BRIAN N. COX

  www.bcoxbooks.com

  Canadian/International Copyright: No. 1018510

  Copying this manual, or any part therein, is prohibited except with the express written permission by the author.

  CHAPTER ONE

  SHANGHAI, CHINA

  It was almost two in the morning and the streets were deserted with the exception of the occasional group of men quietly gathered in the shadows, unseen except for the red glow of their cigarettes. A torrential downpour had swept through the Pudong district of Shanghai, stopping as suddenly as it had started, leaving the cobblestone street glistening and slippery. Sheet lightning could be seen far away in the western sky but the rumble of thunder was muffled and far from Chong Lu street. The young girl, who had just celebrated her twelfth birthday three days ago, wished it was daytime when the shop would have been full of people talking loudly while they bargained with her parents for a better price for vegetables and fresh pork. The yelling of the customers and the street peddlers, some using portable loudspeakers, the cart wheels on the cobblestone plus the honking of car horns would have covered up her heavy breathing, which sounded like hurricane force winds in the girl’s ears. The worn curtain that was used instead of a door on the closet, was open a few inches, allowing her to see the two men clearly, too clearly in fact, as she felt that they must also see her. She shrank back behind the hanging clothes but didn’t take her eyes off the unwelcome intruders. She had never seen either man before, but they seemed to know her father.

  Neither man was young but both were much younger than her father. The older of the two had a scar running from the outside of his left eye to the edge of his mouth. If it wasn’t for this scar, he could have been a handsome man, although his eyes were cold and piercing, like lasers burning through steel. Even though he was not looking at the young girl, his eyes, like those of an angry cat, made her shiver as if a January night wind enveloped her body. The scar-faced man held her father’s throat with his left hand and in his right hand he held a large black revolver against her father’s temple. She wanted to cry out, to tell the men to go away. Her father was a kind and gentle man. When some of the poorer people in the neighborhood didn’t have enough money to buy food for their families, her father always extended credit. Oftentimes, he never asked for what was owed him, in fact, sometimes he refused repayment. Why would anyone want to hurt him? The young girl felt she must do something but she was immobilized with fear. She wanted to scream; she wanted to fight; she wanted to run; but she did nothing but stare.

  The younger man, tall and muscular with a pock-marked face, stood behind the young girl’s mother with a knife against her throat. Her mother looked older than her forty years, but it was obvious she had been a very attractive woman at some time in the past. Years of hard work, the loss of her parents and worrying about the family’s welfare had caused a toll in both her appearance and her health. The death of her parents from influenza only two years earlier had initiated the family move from Chongqing to Shanghai seeking a new and better life. The booming economy of Shanghai had kept itself out of reach of the Zhen family however, but they struggled and worked hard and were beholding to no one. They had little time for recreation, but they were a happy family. Fifty-two year old Zhen Lin and his wife, Xiao Li, never fought or argued regardless of the hardships that life brought to them. They found solace in each other and their daughter, Zhen Xiaomei, who never doubted their love for her for even a single second.

  “You not only refuse to pay what is due me, Mr. Zhen, but you have the gall to be defiant. Do you think we will just walk away? Are you that naïve and foolish? What would your neighbors say? They too, would refuse to pay if they saw you could get away with such behavior. The neighbors must learn from your experience. Now you and your entire family must pay the price. People learn well from lessons like this.”

  At this point, the older man nodded to the other and said, “Let Mr. Zhen see the trouble he has caused his own family.” At that instant, the younger man brought the knife across Xiao Li’s throat and let her drop to the floor like a sack of rice. The young girl was horrified and frozen in fear. She fought to keep silent and not to be sick. Her stomach was queasy and felt like someone had knotted her internal organs. The smirk on the muscular man’s pockmarked face was etched in her mind forever. The smirking one actually enjoyed this barbarous act. What manner of men could do this? The urge to scream in terror and despair was exceeded only by the fear that muted her voice.

  Zhen Lin, temporarily speechless in disbelief, started to scream and reach towards Xiao Li, tears flooding from his eyes, but only for an instant. A bullet ripped through his brain and he fell on top of his dead wife, their blood intermingled in death like their hearts intermingled in life. He lay upon his beloved Xiao Li as if to protect her; but he did not and could not.

  “They have a daughter.” said the scar-face one. “We must kill her too so the lesson is not forgotten in this neighborhood. Search the store and the living quarters at the rear; she must be here.” The two men hastily and frantically searched the premises, including the loft. The smirking one looked in the closet briefly but failed to see young Xiao Mei cringing in the corner under some dirty laundry.

  “She could be visiting relatives,” said the muscular younger man with the pock-marked face.

  “Maybe”, said scar-face, “but we must be sure. We cannot leave her alive if she’s here.”

  This time, the men searched more methodically taking greater care. The younger killer returned to the closet, and this time moved the clothes hanging there, section by section. The young girl, almost physically ill from what she had witnessed tried to sink back under the pile of dirty laundry in the corner, her knees pulled up against her face. Fortunately, she was small for her age and even more fortunately, the smirking killer did not carry a flashlight. She pulled her head down and closed her eyes. If she could not see him, perhaps he could not see her.

  The two men stopped near the bodies of the young girl’s parents, with barely a glance at them. Together, they looked directly at the closet where young Xiao Mei hid. It seemed an eternity, but finally, they turned and exited the front door of the little grocery shop on

  Chang Lu street that had been the proud possession and sole source of income for the Zhen family.

  Young Zhen Xiaomei started to sob slowly and quietly immediately after the killers left. She continued to cry for a long time without moving from her hiding place, maybe an hour, maybe two. She wanted to forget this night but knew the images would remain with her until the day she died and made the final journey to once again be with her gentle father and her loving mother.

  The scar-face man and his younger accomplice were pleased that there were no witnesses, but it did not really matter as twenty men would swear they were with them all night playing mahjong far away from the little grocery shop that had been the home of the Zhen family.

  Neither of these Triad killers gave the murders of gentle Zhen Lin and his wife a second thought, but many years later, on the other side of the world, they would both remember the Zhen family.

  CHAPTER 2

  SHANGHAI….25 YEARS LATER

  Like most government buildings in China, the exterior of the Shanghai Police Headquarters was a marvel of innovative modern architecture and the interior was barren and austere. The meeting room floor was the usual grey polished granite and the grey marble walls were devoid of pictures. All the furniture and equipment could be removed in less than ten minutes, leaving nothing but four walls and a room that would look like it had never been occupied. The musky smell of unknown origins, common to police offices around the world, was present but otherwise there was nothing memorable about the windowless room.

  All nine of the men, and the one woman, were high-ranking police officers representing various detective squads within the Criminal Investigation Division of the Shanghai Police. Gao Hui, Commander of the Organized Crime Unit, chaired the meeting, and although unshaven and disheveled, he looked much younger than his sixty-one years. Shorter than most of the men present, his shoulders were very broad and his arms muscular and sinewy. As usual, Gao was wearing shapeless black pants and a grey overshirt which hid the 8mm automatic handgun he wore on his belt in the small of his back. Gao Hui did not suffer fools gladly and those who worked for and with him did not particularly like him, but without exception, they respected him immensely. He had never displayed violence towards a fellow police officer, at least not an honest one, but for some reason the other men in the room had a physical fear of Gao Hui. His second-in-charge, Xu Chen, sat close by, his hand on the slide projector’s remote switch ready for Gao Hui’s signal. The semi-darkened room suddenly lit up when Gao Hui nodded and the photo of a well-dressed man, seemingly in his early fifties, appeared on the screen. He was actually quite a handsome man, even sophisticated in appearance, but somehow looked rather sinister, even evil. It seemed that the man’s very soul reflected on to his face and filled the screen with foreboding. His movie star good looks were only disrupted by the long scar on the left side of his face.

  Lai Ho, the forty-five years old commander of the Street Intelligence Unit, thought how appropriate it was that this man should look evil, because “evil” was the most apt description of Wu Xing, leader of the powerful Mei Hua Triad in Shanghai. The officers stared intently at
Wu Xing’s image on the screen even though they all were well familiar with his face. Wu Xing was reputed to have personally killed over twenty people in his younger days as a street thug running the protection rackets for his triad masters. In recent years, he left the violence to his successors, young thugs, mostly psychopaths, who took all the risks while he took most of the money collected from the various rackets run by the Mei Hua Triad.

  Wu Xing was 5’9”, slim but with a muscular build and jet black hair combed straight back. Even though Shanghai tailors are reputed to be amongst the world’s best, he wore only Italian-made suits for which he paid more than $2000 US each. Despite his relatively small stature, Wu Xing was a dangerous man, even without a gun or a knife. Like many of his triad brethren, he was well trained in the Shaolin gong-fu arts and had put his skills to use many times throughout his fifty-one years. Although he had spent most of his life on the streets, Wu Xing had spent two years in the People’s Liberation Army as an infantry conscript, following which he attended university in Guangzhou, obtaining a business degree. As leader of the Mei Hua Triad, he had put this training to good use. Although Shanghai police detectives always referred to Wu Xing as a vicious thug, he was also an astute businessman.

  Wu Xing had a straight bridged nose, slightly larger than was common amongst the Han Chinese. He had a noticeable five o’clock shadow which also was uncommon amongst Han men. His lips there thin and somewhat menacing, but not too thin to detract from his handsome face. If his eyes were softer, less penetrating, he would have looked very much like a film star ready to play the rugged lead in an adventure film.

  The Mei Hua Triad was first and foremost a criminal operation but it was also highly successful in generating millions of yuan every year from legitimate business ventures. The illegal profits were regularly laundered and reinvested, primarily in legal businesses. The Mei Hua owned a vast array of properties, including hotels, restaurants and recreational centers. Their investments were not limited to China as they had numerous holdings in North America, Europe and even South America. They had also invested heavily in the import-export business which expedited their shipments of drugs and other illicit commodities to the USA, Canada and Europe, usually well hidden within shipments of legitimate products. Wu Xing had recently entered into an agreement with a large Mexican cartel to supply them with precursor drugs to enable the cartel to manufacture methamphetamine for shipment north to the US. Wu Xing had long been warned by his elder triad advisors not to flaunt his wealth as too affluent a lifestyle would attract police attention. Although Wu Xing was generally very careful, he ignored this advice as he saw no reason to be wealthy if you don’t spend the money and enjoy life to the fullest.

  “As you all know,” began Gao Hui, “this is Wu Xing, lower than the excrement on my boots and smelling twice as bad.” This brought a murmur of laughter from the assembled police officers which quickly stopped when they saw Gao Hui was not smiling. “At five o’clock tomorrow morning, our plan will be executed. The prosecutors have finally decided they have enough evidence to convict Wu Xing on charges of racketeering and corruption of government officials. Three of the corrupted officials have already been executed but five others are more than anxious to testify against Wu Xing to save their worthless lives. These slimy bastards have protected him for years, but no more. His days are numbered.”

  “The big man with the pock-marked face standing beside Wu Xing in most of the photos is his Lieutenant, Meng Hong, often called “The Smirking Giant”. He is our number two target and is complicit in most of Wu Xing’s crimes,” continued Gao Hui. “Some of you are familiar with this shit-head, but for those of you who aren’t, remember this face.” Meng Hong had only two looks….scowling and smirking. Most people in the room were familiar with Meng but none ever remembered seeing him smile. Another nickname, amongst police officers in Shanghai, was “The Brute”, referring to his noticeably muscular arms and powerful build. Meng Hong was a bully in the school yard when he was young as he was still a bully as a forty-eight year old thug.

  “In order to maintain operational security, we are being extremely cautious about revealing this plan, even to you, so the raiding teams will not be briefed until 4am. Members of my Unit have him under surveillance as we speak, and they will not discontinue this surveillance until the raiding teams go into action. Xu Chen will show you some more slides of Wu Xing, his associates and some of the vehicles they use, then please read the plan material on the desks in front of you which gives instructions as to what part each of you will play in this project. There will be no details of the actual raid revealed until we meet again in the large meeting hall with the raiding teams. Do not take this written material with you; Xu Chen will collect it from each of you before you leave. It is 9:17pm now. You should all be out of here by 9:40. Go home and have a good sleep and meet back here by 3:30am for the final briefing. Leave your cell phones and all other communication equipment in your offices. It won’t be allowed in the briefing room tomorrow. I don’t have to tell you that not one word of what you learn here tonight can be repeated. Not to your trusted assistants and not to your spouses or lovers.”

  The officers read the information material which had been distributed to them indicating their individual assignments for the next morning, but no details about the actual raid, in fact, the present whereabouts of Wu Xing was not revealed. In groups of two’s and three’s, they left the room between 9:30 and 9:45pm. Gao Hui and Xu Chen stayed behind to discuss details of the plan for about half an hour, and then they too left the room and walked slowly to the Organized Crime Unit office where they would spend the night on cots, half sleeping and half listening for radio transmissions from the detectives on the surveillance detail.

  Gao Hui had organized and commanded many raids on major crime figures during his seven years as Commander of the Organized Crime Unit, the most senior commander position within the Criminal Investigation Division, but this was the biggest. He had arrested many high level government officials, including the Assistant Party Secretary of Shanghai and the Deputy Mayor, but nothing could compare with the arrest and successful prosecution of Wu Xing. Wu Xing had been well insulated from the criminal activities of his Mei Hua underlings and protected by corrupt government officials, but those days were about to end for Wu Xing. Although Gao Hui always looked and acted calm, there was an unusual excitement within him tonight. This was the day that Wu Xing would finally be brought to justice and hopefully his execution was not far off.

  The Street Intelligence Unit Commander, Lai Ho, nonchalantly left the district headquarters building, got into his unmarked police car and drove towards his apartment which was about forty minutes to the east in a gated community. Although darkness had taken over the city, it was still uncomfortably hot, and as usual, Shanghai was extremely humid. He turned down a side street and drove very slowly, watching his rear view mirror very carefully and pulling over to the curb to let faster moving traffic pass by. He then circled a large block three times, all the while looking for vehicles turning behind him. When he approached a traffic light, he slowed to ensure he would be the last one through the green light, and watched to see if any vehicles ran through the intersection against the red light. Lai Ho was convinced he was not being followed, or if he had been, he had succeeded in losing them. Those years of experience as a street intelligence officer had made him an expert in both surveillance and counter-surveillance. His years as a street intelligence officer also gave him the opportunity to meet all manner of people, some honest and honorable, most far less so. The most dishonorable of all his acquaintances was also the wealthiest. His name was Wu Xing.