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particularly in the RHKP. All this information you've got could be rubbish. You know as well as I do, the guys who ran the squeeze in Hong Kong were the Station Sergeants. That’s where you want to look for any pressure to change evidence."
     
         "Yes, and all the officers and gentlemen did nothing more than find a brown paper envelope in their desks on Friday. Very sanitised. The point is, secrets about police operations were leaked and that led to Gerry Montrose Q.C dismantling a big case."
     
         “Hey, that’s what he does! That’s why he’s in demand.” Their glum faces said they had no answer to that. “It’s all sour grapes because Gerry is too good for them, too light on his feet.” He shrugged. “And now he’s disappeared? I'm surprised you guys can‘t find him. I mean, the world's a small place. People don't just disappear, particularly in Hong Kong. You monitor all movements in and out."
     
         "But you’re wrong about your friend! He is a street monkey!" Ginger cut in, "He had it all planned to disappear. He spent a lot of time in Macao. He gambled heavily at the tables.”
     
         “He always did!” Jack protested. “Even when he was on Government salary, that’s where it went, that and the sherbet!”
     
         “And women!” Ginger looked as if the idea of congress between a male and female filled him with disgust.
     
         “Oh no! He never paid for it!” Jack couldn’t help smirking. It was so easy to wind Ginger up. The veins stood out on his neck now. 
     
         Ginger controlled his instincts to lash out and persisted. “He usually went over on the jetfoil but then he changed and took the ferry. Every weekend without fail. Then, bang, suddenly he's not there. He’s disappeared into the China Sea." He looked puzzled and ran his fingers through his thinning hair.
     
         “Yes,” the moustache took up the story, “and the RHKP alerted the Coastguard but nothing was found. Even the Chinese Coastguard out of Hainan took part in the operation.” Jack had visions of Gerry falling overboard in shark-infested waters. It brought back a vivid but distant memory of an occasion when the two of them had overturned a racing yacht in a squall in the Gulf of Siam. He grinned as that memory reminded him that they didn’t get rid of Gerry Montrose that easily. No, they could be right about one thing, it sounded like his old mate had intended to disappear. He was jolted out of his reverie when the moustache added, “other elements had access to his bank account. We’ve discovered that since.”
     
         “Other elements?”
     
         "Triads," the moustache said. "Mr. Lauder, if we don't find Gerry Montrose soon there’s no guarantee of his safety. You do of course appreciate they will know of your transaction with him?" There was a pregnant pause. "Well, if I was looking for him...." The moustache left the thought unfinished but Jack could have saved him the trouble. Gerry’s pursuers would assume that anyone who had lent him fifty k would know where he was.
     
        "So," the non-p.c Ginger added, his face twisted in malice, "if I was you, I’d watch out for little yellow bastards with meat choppers.”
     
         Jack ignored Ginger’s racist remark except to say to his colleague, "I think I've already had that visit.” The moustache leaned forward as he recounted the incident after he had left the charity function and again that night in Stowell Street.
     
         “That certainly sounds like a Triad Red Pole,” he mused, “he’ll have a network of prepared contacts over here. He’ll disappear back into the brotherhood, wait to be reprogrammed.” He made it sound like a weird computer game.
     
         "So you think I'm in some danger? You think this is a hit man?" The moustache’s silent shrug spoke volumes. "But presumably," Jack went on, "they want to know where Gerry is? There's not much point in killing the