Lights Out (2 page)

As Ryan’s taxi neared the Asia World Bank, the traffic started to
slow down. The taxi radio crackled and jumped to life, barking loud
instructions in Cantonese to any available driver listening in. Ryan could see
that the traffic was starting to gridlock, and he only had a short distance
left to walk. Still feeling slightly nauseous, Ryan asked the driver to stop.
He quickly paid, relieved to no longer be twisting and turning and stepped out
onto the pavement. He took in some deep breaths and immediately started to feel
the nausea ebb away. He made his way to a nearby newsstand and purchased his
daily
Morning Post
, paying with loose
coins from his pocket. Ryan felt a piece of paper under his fingers folded into
a small neat square. He fumbled for several seconds for the correct change,
paid the vendor and walked towards
Starbucks
to order his usual take out latte
.

Ryan smiled to himself as he pulled out the folded piece of paper
from his pocket, remembering the evening that he had finally managed to get her
number. He unraveled the note and read the stylish handwriting in black ink.

Lily 9304 8621 x

Ryan placed the note back in his pocket.
I’ll call later
, he thought.

Ryan had been walking for just a short distance, enjoying the effects
of the coffee as it began to clear the fog in his head and thought about the
day ahead. It was always so noisy in the Central Business District, but today
the surrounding noise appeared even worse than usual. At seven o’clock in the
morning the taxis were already starting to fill up the roads. Delivery vans
were double parking. Ryan noted the rubble and building debris was already
being loaded onto a pick-up truck down a narrow side street next to the Bank.
People on the pavement around him were rushing to and fro in all directions.
Their heads down and focused as they walking deliberately and quickly,
oblivious to other people around them. It was a cacophony of taxi horns, people
talking and shouting and the sound of the trams running alongside the cars.
Ryan started to find the noise unbearable, when without warning, a loud
CRASH
echoed behind Ryan silencing it all.

Ryan jumped and swiftly turned to see what had caused the noise. One
of the red taxi’s, in a hurry to avoid the gridlock had ran into the back of
another taxi, leaving the metal bumper twisted and separated from the back of
the car. The two Chinese drivers were already out of their seats shouting and
waving their arms in the air like two passionate Italians. The two taxis had
blocked part of the main road, making the gridlock complete. The sound of the
horns combined with the raised voices began to increase again in volume like a
crescendo in a symphony.

Once Ryan had satisfied his curiosity along with many other
onlookers, he turned and continued to walk towards the Bank entrance, happy to
be leaving the chaos and noise behind him. As he drew closer he became aware of
other angry raised voices, this time from inside the Bank. Through the
reception glass he could see two of his security officers talking to a man with
his back to Ryan.

Ryan slowed down his pace and slipped his hand into his back pocket.
He could feel his mobile phone, which made him feel better somehow.

He stepped a little closer to the entrance and could see more clearly
now. One of the security officers was talking into a radio; the other officer
was still in debate with the man. Ryan could see that the conversation was getting
heated.

He paused for a moment, catching his breath and then entered the
reception area behind them hoping to be able to help. The man with his back to
Ryan was shouting in rapid Cantonese, he was dressed like one of the building
contractors. He was short and slightly overweight, wearing an ill-fitting pale
grey overall that was clearly too big for him. In his left hand he was carrying
a small black duffle bag. The old
man was gripping it so tightly that Ryan could see that his knuckles had turned
white. Looking down he noticed that he wore old black
plimsoles
on his feet.

Whatever they were discussing it was clear that the man was
frustrated.

Hearing someone enter the building, the contractor spun around to
face Ryan
.

Ryan noticed that his hair was slicked back and thinning, but it was
still dark. His face was round and smooth which made Ryan think that under
other circumstances that it could have been a happy face smiling back at him
not a frightened one. Ryan could see beads of sweat forming into small droplets
on his forehead, his expression was one of helplessness and desperation and he
had fear in his eyes.

Seeing that Ryan offered no threat, the old man swiftly turned his
attention back to the security officer; his eyes now wide open with fear and
determination. Shaking uncontrollably he stuffed one hand into the hold all bag
and pulled out a handgun thrusting it in the direction of the security officers
shouting instructions. He dropped the bag on to the floor and began to wave the
gun around in the air, his words becoming more frantic and loud.

Ryan was frozen to the spot, his feet unable to move as he watched
the event quickly unfold before him.

“Get down” suddenly one of the security officers yelled at Ryan
jolting him out of his trance. Immediately Ryan threw himself down onto the
cold hard floor, his newspaper scattered out in front of him, the pages opening
up and gracefully gliding to a halt. His coffee cup hit the ground to his left
and Ryan watched silently as the brown steaming liquid slowly seeped across the
white marble floor. Ryan kept his eyes down toward the floor as he covered his
head with his hands. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest against the
cold floor. Above him, all that he could hear was the turbulent shouts of the
old man and the officers in a tongue that he couldn’t understand.

Less than a second later a loud noise cracked high above Ryan’s head.
He knew instinctively that a gun had been fired.

Ryan slowly lifted his head and stole a glance at the three men. For
a moment they all stood facing each other, perfectly still and silent as though
someone had pressed a pause button.

To begin with Ryan couldn’t tell who had fired the shot. Then,
slowly, the contractor took an unsteady step backwards. His arm dropped to his
side and the gun clattered loudly to the floor, echoing around them as it spun
to a standstill in front of Ryan. The old man slowly crumpled sideways, his
head hitting the hard marble floor resounding with a sickening thud, followed
by deafening silence.

Ryan slowly stood up. His legs felt shaky and heavy and his heart was
still pumping wildly. He looked over at the man now lying on the floor just a
few feet away. He could see a pool of blood forming underneath his back and a
dark patch seeping through the fabric on his chest, slowly changing the
colour
from pale grey to a dark inky black.

The dead mans head lay to the side and his eyes looked in Ryan’s
direction, still open and fixed. His mouth sagged a little and a small line of
blood trickled down his chin and dripped without a sound onto the floor.

Ryan looked
around him. Both security officers were now on their radios, shouting loudly in
Cantonese. Ryan could hear a siren in the background, but his head was
pounding. All he could think about in that moment was that John McIntyre’s
clean slate had just been tarnished and that his hangover had abruptly turned
into a nightmare.

Ryan looked around him. It was such a basic, simple room. Cold.

He sat on an uncomfortable black plastic chair at a square white
Formica table. Two empty chairs were positioned opposite him.

A steaming cup of Chinese tea in a plastic holder was just to his
left. Ryan watched the tealeaves slowly unravel in the hot water, until they
finally descended to the bottom of the cup.

He looked around. There were no windows in the room, just a single
door. Above his head he could see strip lighting. One of the long glass lights
was flickering slightly causing it to make a loud buzzing noise in the quiet
room.

The door, directly in front of Ryan, opened and two plain clothed
Police officers walked in. The male officer sat down opposite him. He looked
very young, although to Ryan all Chinese people seemed to look younger than
they were. Ryan guessed that he must be in his mid-twenties. He wore blue
jeans, and a freshly ironed white Polo t-shirt. On his wrist was a sporty
looking IWC.
Probably a fake
, Ryan
thought.

The woman that accompanied him also looked young, but he thought
probably closer to her mid thirties. She was dressed much smarter than her
colleague. She had black slim fitting pants with a matching suit jacket and a
crisp white shirt underneath. Her thick black hair was pulled into a high
ponytail, tight against her head. Her complexion was smooth and even, and her
skin tone olive. Ryan noticed that she had dark, almost black eyes. Ryan
considered that she looked mixed race rather than completely Chinese making him
wonder where she was from. Her face was angular and serious and she didn’t
smile.

She sat down promptly and turned her attention to Ryan.

“
Mr
Harper, I’m Detective Inspector Lam, and this is Detective Officer Chow”, Sarah
Lam motioned to the young Chinese man to her right, surprising Ryan that he
could already be a DI at such a young age.

“Apologies if you have been kept waiting. I can see that you have
some tea already. Is there anything else that I can get for you?” Her English
was faultless
. Clearly a rich kid
educated overseas
, Ryan thought, surprising himself that he felt so
irritated.

“Maybe just an ashtray, I really need a cigarette.” He replied whilst
fishing out a crumpled packet from his jeans and placing it on the table in
front of him.

“No problem”, the young Detective Officer Chow eagerly stood up and
left the room in search of an ashtray, whilst Ryan pulled out a cigarette and
proceeded to light it.

Sarah Lam broke the silence. “I just have a few questions for you, it
shouldn’t take long
.
” She said as she
opened her file and arranged the papers inside. From where he was sitting Ryan
could clearly see photographs of the dead Chinese man in between sheets of hand
written reports.

Chow re-entered the room slightly out of breath and holding
triumphantly a plastic cup, which he promptly passed to Ryan with an apologetic
smile.

“It’s all I could find.”

“Thanks’ Ryan said, balancing his cigarette on the edge of the cup.

Ryan switched his gaze to Lam and waited for the questions.

“Just explain in your own words what actually happened this morning.”
Detective Inspector Lam pulled her chair closer toward the table. As she leaned
in Ryan noticed her jacket flap open slightly revealing the corner of a
shoulder holster. He shifted in his chair. Lam, aware that Ryan was looking at
her, pulled her jacket in and quickly buttoned up the front.

“At the beginning I had no idea how serious the situation was. I was
a bit pre-occupied watching a road accident that had just happened. It was only
as I got really close to the Bank entrance that I could see two of my security
officers arguing with an old man.” Ryan picked up the perched cigarette from
the edge of the plastic cup and took a long drag, pulling the smoke into his
lungs before gently blowing in out.

“Yet you still decided to enter the building?” Lam looked directly at
Ryan. He wondered if she was trying to intimidate him. She didn’t. Maybe this
was her tactic when interviewing people, he thought. Everyone is a suspect.

“Detective Lam, I don’t speak Cantonese, I had no idea what they were
arguing about, or how serious the situation was. I held back for a few seconds,
but then decided to walk through to see whether there was anything that I could
do. If I’d even thought for a second that this guy might have a gun, I would
have kept my distance. Believe it or not, I don’t have a death wish Detective”
Ryan said curtly as he flicked his ash into the cup watching it crumble into a
pile of dust.

“Do you recall seeing anyone else close to the entrance, or anyone
looking suspicious?” Lam asked whilst Chow sat next her scribbling notes.

Ryan took another long drag of his cigarette and thought back to the
events of just a few hours ago.

“No, nothing unusual. People walk past the entrance all the time.
It’s a public courtyard and a short cut between the two main roads.” He was
less curt now, wanting to get through this quickly so that he could leave.

“Can I just ask, who was the old man? He looked so out of place there
and genuinely frightened.” Ryan asked Lam.

“The suspect had no identification on his person. We think that he
may be from the mainland, but we have quite a bit of work to do before we can
verify that.” Lam responded.

“And of course there’s no CCTV footage for you to look through”. Ryan
said, almost apologetically.

Lam shot Officer Chow a sideways glance. Then turned her attention
back to Ryan.

“Yes, of course you would know about that. Due to the Banks timely security
upgrade, we have no way of seeing which direction he entered and the exact time
frame and sequence of events. We only have your account and the two security
officers at this stage.” Lam finished. Ryan could sense that Lam was annoyed.
He had only been in her company for a short amount of time, but already he
could feel that she didn’t like him much. He didn’t know why. He had just been
in the wrong place at the wrong time, an innocent bystander. The way in which
she had conducted the interview was making Ryan feel the same way about her.

Ryan was starting to feel dizzy, the effects of adrenaline and lack
of food in his stomach and the cigarette was starting to take effect. He hadn’t
even had his morning caffeine fix, having left the contents of his drink on the
marble floor at the bank. He looked at his watch. It was already 09:30am. He’d
been there for two hours already.

Noticing Ryan check his watch Lam quickly continued not wanting her
key witness to lose interest.

“One final question
Mr
Harper then you are
free to go. Exactly what time did you enter the building this morning?” Lam
asked. Chow’s pen was poised over his notes.

“Oh, it was just after 7am, I’ve been in early this week because of
the renovations and the CCTV upgrades.” Ryan replied, suddenly feeling drained.

“Thank you,
Mr
Harper. Do you have any
business trips or personal travel planned over the coming few days at all?” Lam
asked.

“No, No plans, I’ll be in Hong Kong if you need me.” Ryan responded flatly, desperate for
the questions to be finished so that he could leave. As if reading his mind,
Lam leaned across the table and passed Ryan a business card.

“If you think of anything else,” she said tapping the card with her
finger. “Just call.”

Ryan stood on the steps outside the Police Station and looked up at
the sky. It was still overcast and humid, but at least the rain was holding
off.

He thought about going back to the bank, but knew that he’d have more
questions to answer there, so he quickly decided against it. He just wanted to
go home,
it’s not every day that a man
get’s shot in front of you
, he thought, justifying his decision.

Ryan stepped into the road and waved for a taxi. Within seconds a
bright red Toyota pulled to a halt beside him and Ryan climbed in.

‘The Peak please, Cameron Mansions.” Ryan said as he sank deep into the back seat and closed his eyes.

The driver silently nodded, flicked on the meter and merged into the
busy traffic.

Across the street a black
Mercedes-Benz with dual number plates slowly pulled away from the curb.