CH 1-10

Summary

NYC businessman David Bower travels to Hong Kong for urgent family reasons and is unwittingly thrust into a world of murder and violence, where his own demise could be lurking around the very next corner. Does he stay to finish what he went there for, or should he flee for his life?

Chapter 1

The mixed emotions David Bower experienced were confusing. His stomach was heavy with parental concern, but at the same time, he was excited for his eldest boy, Miles.

He and his wife Madison had just waved to Miles for the last time, before the self-closing doors at JFK airport International departures swallowed up his excited son and his son’s friend Bryce, as they embarked on their around-the-world holiday travel.

David found it difficult to let Miles go, with him traveling so far away, but he knew it was a rite of passage. The time had come for Miles to break free from his parents and explore the world after sixteen years of school and study. It was now time for him to experience life beyond the shores of the United States.

Once the boys were out of sight, an anticlimactic wave washed over David. He stood gazing at the unimpressive closed doors long after Miles and Bryce had moved through.

The travelers’ excitement that earlier surrounded him quickly turned to a realization they were gone. All the euphoria, all the excited chatter and apprehension leading up to their departure, ceased with the closing of those airport doors.

With his focus remaining fixed on the closed Customs doors, he said to his wife, ’We have done the right thing…haven’t we…?’

Madison lightly took hold of his arm to encourage him to start moving away from the area. ‘Of course we have, darling…’ she said with a confident and reassuring tone. ‘They will have the time of their lives….’

‘Do you think the fifty kay we loaded onto his travel card will be enough?’ David asked. His questioning tone was out of character for the entrepreneurial businessman and corporate heavyweight who made multi-million dollar decisions daily.

‘I do…but if they need more…we can simply load it onto his card,’ Madison reassured.

---

A few days on and David grew satisfied with himself after coming to terms with Miles’ holiday departure.

Everything that he could control in his life was in order. He had sent his eldest son on an overseas holiday, as reward for his academic achievements in graduating Summa Cum Laude from Harvard Medical School.

Benjamin, his 2nd born, commenced his third year of a Law Degree at Yale – Ben’s preferred choice of University, and Felicity, his youngest, had been accepted into her preferred University – Columbia, next year.

Life was good he contentedly thought to himself. But was it?

As a powerful man in the corporate world, David controlled and influenced most people around him. When he spoke, people listened. He was everything you would expect from a billionaire businessman ranked by Forbes as the 172nd wealthiest American.

But David would soon learn that despite his considerable affluence and corporate power, there were some things in life that were beyond his control.

---

The silence in the conference room suggested the issue in question had been exhaustively considered and addressed.

As Chairman of his multi-billion dollar company, David sat in his inferred power position at the head of the highly polished oak boardroom table.

He scanned the tired, drained faces of the usually opinionated board members, for one last time. All were quiet, so he declared the last item on the lengthy agenda resolved.

Dark circles had formed under David’s eyes. He was drawn. It had been a taxing day with back-to-back meetings from 6am this morning, with little respite. Even for someone as motivated as David, it was tiring.

He checked his watch. ‘It’s just gone 6.30pm,’ he announced to his Executive team. ‘If there’s nothing else, I will declare this meeting closed.’ He nodded once to his assistant Lila; a silent indication for her to sign off the minutes.

David clapped his hands together. ‘I think we have well and truly earned a drink, or two after that. Thank you people.’

As was tradition, following their boardroom meetings, the lavish lounge in David’s luxurious 50th floor office hosted the executives for post-meeting drinks, to unwind from preceding events.

While enjoying a casual single malt with his team, a colleague asked David, ‘so, how long has Miles been away now…?’

David checked his watch. ‘Just over three weeks. They’re in Hong Kong at the moment,’ he said then took a sip.

‘Have you heard from him since he left…?’

’Of course. We regularly chat on Skype and he also provided daily updates on their online travel blog.’

‘Very good…’

‘Although I must say,’ David began. ‘They haven’t provided any recent updates…’

The colleague scoffed. ‘They’re probably having too much fun to worry about updating travel blogs…’

‘You’re probably right,’ David said, followed by a reassuring sip of his malt scotch.

By his 3rd single malt scotch David could feel himself starting to unwind, when his cell phone vibrated in his pocket.

He removed his cell and checked the display. He didn’t recognize the number.

‘David Bower,’ he answered in his usual confident tone, before sneaking a sip of his scotch. A silent pause followed. ‘Hello…’ David repeated.

Still nothing.

He checked the connection before asking, ‘Is anybody there…?’

A morose sounding voice on the other end responded. ‘Mr. Bower…This is Bryce…Bryce Fleming…’

David’s face lit up. ‘Bryce,’ he replied, oblivious to the somber tone. ‘How’s one half of the Intrepid Travelers going…?’ David moved away from the gathering of executives. ‘What can I do for you, son…? You haven’t gone through the fifty large already have you, boy…?’ he said, followed by a chuckle.

Silence.

His eyebrows dipped. ‘Bryce…? Are you there…?’ David asked against the continued silence. He again checked the connection had not dropped out. ‘Are you there, son…? Look, if you can hear me, this must be a terrible connection…I’m having trouble hearing you…I may have to call you back…Are you there…?’

Following an extended pause Bryce responded, ‘Um… Yes… Yes, I’m…I’m here, sir…’

‘Now I’ve got you…’ David said. ‘What can I do for Bryce…? Is everything OK…? How’s Miles…? Is he there…?’

David fired off questions in rapid succession before Bryce had time to respond. David glanced at his watch.

‘What are you doing up at this time of the morning…? It’s not even 7am over there. Or are you just getting in from a big night…?’ he said with a somewhat proud fatherly grin.

Silence.

Annoyance, maybe even a little concern started to etch across David’s face at the continued silence.

‘Bryce… Are you there…? What the hell is going on…? Are you there…?’ His tone increased to stern.

‘Mr. Bower… I… I…’ the voice faded off. He could hear the muffled sound of Bryce sobbing through the phone.

‘Good God, man. What is going on…?’ He asked directly with his concern rising.

‘Mr. Bower… It’s Miles, I—’

‘What about him? Is he alright…? What is it…? For Chrissakes, Bryce.’

‘I don’t know how to tell you this, sir…’ Bryce said. His voice shuddered through his sobbing. David could hear Bryce’s labored breathing.

‘Tell me what…?’ he said directly. His tolerance had reached its limits.

Bryce struggled to articulate any discernible words over his apparent distress. ‘Sir… It’s Miles. They found him floating in the Harbor this morning… Sir…. He’s… he’s dead…’

Bryce’s voice broke as he succumbed to his emotions. Having just delivered the news he had lost his best friend, he burst into uncontrollable sobbing.

David froze at the news. His shoulders slumped. His jaw dropped as his eyes glazed over into an expressionless stare. The color drained from his face.

‘What the hell are you talking about, Bryce…? How can he be dea — ’ David cut himself off. He refused to say the word. ‘Oh my God…’ David said.

His hand cupped his forehead, as he paced directionless around his office. His stomach knotted. His legs grew weak. ‘How can this be…? I don’t understand…’

A brief pause followed before Bryce responded. ‘I have no idea, sir. I still can’t believe it.’

‘Where the hell were you, Bryce…? How could you let this happen?’

’I… I … was in bed,sir. I had no idea until this morning.’

‘Are you telling me he drowned…drowned in the Harbor…?’ David’s tone was aggressive.

‘That is what the police are saying, sir.’

‘That makes no sense at all. Look… You stay put and I will call you back once I have spoken to the police.’ David ended the call.

He ran a hand through his hair. His fixed stare dropped heavily to the floor. His mind spun and his pulse raced. The pit of his stomach knotted tightly.

He felt weak. As the gravity of the message sunk in, his legs could no longer hold his weight. His knees buckled and he found himself kneeling on all fours.

Lila was standing with the Executive group in the lounge when she quickly broke away from the gathering and scurried towards her fallen boss.

‘Mr. Bower….?’ She asked with genuine concern. ‘Are you alright, sir…?’ She stooped down and placed a comforting hand on David’s shoulder. David didn’t respond.

By this time, most of the colleagues had followed Lila and gathered around David. They assisted him to his feet.

The natural hue from David’s face had gone. His pallid appearance clearly alarmed the gathered colleagues.

‘Someone call 9-1-1,’ one of the concerned executives yelled.

David raised his hand. ‘No. Wait,’ he said, before his arm fell limp to his side. He stared blankly forward as several beats passed by.

His glazed eyes had no apparent focus. His concerned colleagues looked on.

‘It’s…it’s my son, Miles…’ David said. His head slumped forward, as if too heavy to hold up. His somber monotone voice informed his executive team.

‘They found him floating in the Hong Kong Harbor…’

After delivering the news, David cupped his forehead as he moved towards a corner of the room, away from the group.

Stunned silence followed. His colleagues remained as a gathered group. Their eyes darted between each other. Each one was completely dumbfounded by the news.

David stood away from his executives with his head in his hands, as he experienced the disbelief stage of grief.

His cell phone vibrated in his pocket. David quickly removed his phone and checked the display. Madison. Shit, he thought. His eyes lifted to the ceiling. How can I tell her?

His movements were slow as he moved the phone to his ear. Before he could speak, the sound of crying pulsed through the phone. He wouldn’t have to break the news to Madison — she already knew.

‘Maddie…’ David answered. His voice was flat.

‘Have you heard…? Oh my God, David… have you heard…? It can’t be… Tell me it can’t be…’ Madison blurted over the phone, before she burst into uncontrollable sobbing.

‘Yes… I heard.’ David’s somber, but controlled voice replied. ‘Bryce rang me just now. I still can’t believe it, Maddie,’ he said with his own voice solemn with grief.

’The police are here, David. Can you come home… Now, please,’ she asked through her crying.

‘I’m on my way now, darling,’ he said then ended the call.

David addressed his executive team. ‘I have to go. I have a lot of things to attend to.’

When his eyes met Lila, he asked, ‘can you get me on a flight to Hong Kong. I have to go home now. I’ve got a few things I need to do.’ He briefly studied his watch. ‘Any flight after say… 10pm would be great.’

---

After bursting from his private penthouse elevator, David raced through the foyer and into the living room where Madison sat with two uniformed police.

Madison stood up from her seat as he approached. They moved towards each other and embraced tightly. Madison broke down sobbing in his arms.

Even the expressions on the faces of the two burly cops were ones of genuine heartfelt sadness.

David lifted his head from his wife’s shoulder, towards the cops. ‘How did this happen…? Do you know…?’ His tone was surprisingly calm.

‘We don’t know a lot at this time, sir,’ the older officer said. ‘We only know what we have been told.’

‘Which is what…?’

‘As we understand it, sir, the Hong Kong police believe your son drowned in the harbor,’ the same cop said.

‘He was an elite level swimmer, for Chrissakes…’ David blurted. ‘How could he drown?’

‘The Hong Kong police believe he slipped, possibly on a mossy rock, or similar, and hit his head before falling into the water.’

‘Why was he down near the water in the first place?’ David asked. ‘I know for a fact, swimming in the Hong Kong Harbor is not permitted.’

‘That we don’t know, sir. I’m sorry,’ the officer began. ‘The Hong Kong Police have asked us to ask if you are in a position to travel to Hong Kong for formal ID and… other arrangements,’ the cop asked.

Still embracing his wife, David nodded, ‘I will be heading over there tonight on the next available flight. I’ll take care of all that.’

‘Sir. Ma’am. We are very sorry for your loss. Is there anything we can do to help? Anyone you need called?’ The officer had genuine sympathy in his voice.

David raised a hand to the cops. ‘No. You’ve done enough as it is. Thank you. I will handle it from here. If there is nothing else gentlemen… Philip will see you down. Thank you.’ David nodded once to their Butler, before burying his head into his wife’s shoulder.

Chapter 2

Despite travelling in the comforts of first-class, the lengthy flight across the Pacific from JFK to Hong Kong had been the longest and most mentally exhausting 16½ hours David had endured.

Traveling alone left too much time to think. Vivid memories of the happier times with Miles ran through his head like a home movie collection.

After a while, the extended solitude of the flight brought home the harsh reality. His son was gone and there was not a damn thing he could do about it. No amount of money and no amount of corporate power, or influence would bring him back.

There were so many unanswered questions. How could this happen to Miles? How would he cope without his eldest boy? How could he bring himself to look at his son’s lifeless body? How can he escort him home… to Maddie?

His desperate thoughts kept hoping this horrible nightmare would end when he woke. But it didn’t. Everything was too surreal.

It just couldn’t happen like this, he kept thinking. Miles had his whole life ahead of him. He planned to be a Doctor.

The time on his own during the flight caused him to rationalize everything; to bring it into perspective. It allowed him time to grieve on his own, of which he did plenty.

After they landed, David could only sit with his eyes closed while the flight attendant’s enthusiastic voice resonated through the speakers as she welcomed passengers to Hong Kong.

He couldn’t bear to look at the travelers’ excited faces as they disembarked from the plane; each one filled with anticipation of whatever reason they had traveled to Hong Kong—but not David.

He chose to remain in the comfort and security of his first-class seat for as long as he could. The unknown of what to expect in Hong Kong unnerved him, but he knew sooner or later, he would have to face the inevitable.

After his arrival at Hong Kong’s International Airport on Lantau Island, he climbed into the private street car, Lila arranged for him.

He also requested Lila book him into a suite in the Grand Hyatt Hotel in Wan Chai, on Hong Kong Island, so chosen because it neighbored the hotel Miles and Bryce were staying at.

David collapsed into the comfortable soft leather back seat of the Luxury Audi A6. Although tired, his active mind masked any effects of jet lag.

During the forty minute journey to his hotel, David mentally mapped out and prioritized his next movements.

He removed his cell phone. His first priority was to call his wife, as requested by her, to let her know he had arrived safely.

While it approached midday Sunday in Hong Kong, it was midnight Saturday in New York, so he intentionally kept the call brief.

---

David had been unable to change currency before he arrived at his hotel, so he slipped the porter a US$10 bill before closing the door to his top floor luxury suite.

As if by habit, he found himself drawn to the ceiling-to-floor, picture windows that overlooked Hong Kong’s scenic Victoria Harbor.

On any other occasion he would be suitably impressed by the panoramic vista his room captured, but not on this occasion; there were too many distractions.

David left his bag unpacked and moved to sit on the side on his king-size bed. His elbows rested on his knees as he stared blankly at the ground in front of him.

He cut a lonely figure sitting in his oversized, luxury hotel suite as everything started to hit home. The reason for being in Hong Kong became a vivid reality.

His breathing started to labor. His inhalations wrestled against his body, shuddering from his increasing sobbing. He cupped his face as he sobbed at the disbelief of losing his beloved son.

It took several minutes for David to compose himself before he decided to seek out Bryce at his nearby hotel.

---

Walking the corridor of the Renaissance Hotel’s 12th floor, David removed his notes from his pocket and checked the room number against the shining gold number affixed to the hotel room door – 1206.

A solemn faced Bryce promptly answered his knock. Bryce’s face lit up when he saw David at his door. ‘Mr. Bower,’ Bryce said with genuine excitement in his voice. ‘I am so glad to see you, sir.’

David embraced Bryce in a gesture that comforted both men; each one grieving the loss of Miles in their own way.

David accepted the fresh prepared cup of coffee from Bryce. ‘I have to let the police know I’m here soon, so I can complete the formalities,’ David said. ‘But first, I would like to have a chat with you, Bryce.’ David gestured to the lounge chair opposite him. ‘Have a seat.’

He stared briefly into Bryce’s bloodshot eyes. Bryce’s drawn, pale expression suggested he too was experiencing the same pain and feeling of loss as David, and Bryce had to endure the last two days on his own, without his best friend.

‘I want you to know, Bryce, we don’t blame you at all. Do you understand that? It’s important that you do.’

‘Thank you, sir,’ Bryce said. ‘I appreciate that…’

‘So… What the hell happened?’ David asked, then sipped on his coffee.

Bryce stared back at David in silence, as though his words were trying to escape, but the emotion wouldn’t let them pass.

‘I’m curious, Bryce. What you guys got up to the Thursday night before… Was it a big night? Walk me through it.’

He rested his elbows on his knees. He had to know his son’s steps leading up to his death, if only for his own peace of mind and closure.

‘During the day on Thursday,’ Bryce started, ‘We took the cable car up to Victoria Peak for some sightseeing. We met some really cool people up there… They were locals.’

‘Were they similar age to you and Miles?’

‘I think so. But we didn’t ask their ages.’

‘How many of them were there?’

‘About eight, or so I think. Look I’ll show you.’ Bryce opened his gallery of photos on his iPad. David accepted the iPad from Bryce and flicked his way through the smiling faces and posed holiday snaps of Miles, Bryce and their new friends at the Victoria Peak Lookout.

David’s eyes lifted to Bryce and he nodded. ‘OK, continue…’ David said.

’They said they were all going out to Lan Kwai Fong later that night, so we decided to meet them there,’ Bryce said.

‘Lan Kwai Fong…’ David said with a slow knowing nod.

‘Um, it’s a trendy night spot in Hong Kong Central, you know… bars and restaurants.’ Bryce said.

‘Yes, I am aware of the place, Bryce…I’ve been there once or twice in my travels,’ David said. ‘Did you and Miles end up going there?’

‘We did. Miles and I went to an Italian restaurant for dinner first and then we caught a cab to Lan Kwai Fong.’

‘What happened then?’

Appearing unfazed by all the questions, Bryce continued. ’We stayed at Lan Kwai Fong until about 2am, until we’d had enough.

Then we invited our group of friends back to my hotel room to kick on, you know, have some quiet drinks back in the room. We caught some cabs and came here to my room.’ Bryce gestured towards the center of the hotel room.

David nodded slowly while he studied Bryce. His initial thoughts were that of concern at their apparent blasé attitude towards their own personal security – Inviting complete strangers back to their only safe haven.

‘How many came back?’

‘Everyone…’ Bryce said. ‘About eight, or so. We were having a great time. Miles told me he wanted to head back to his room for a minute. H didn’t say why, though.’

‘Which room was Miles’?’

‘1202. His room is two rooms down on the same side.’ Bryce gestured towards the hotel hall way. ‘Miles left to briefly go to his room…and…’ Bryce’s jaw began to shudder. His lips quivered. ‘I never saw him again.’ He struggled to articulate his words.

David gave Bryce a reassuring pat on the knee. ‘It’s OK. Take your time…’ David said.

Bryce wiped an escaping tear.

‘What time did he leave for his room?’

‘To be honest, I can’t recall. I didn’t check the time.’

‘I understand…’ David said. ‘But did he leave shortly after you arrived, several hours after you arrived. What was it?’ David asked.

Being a man of intricate detail himself, he wasn’t satisfied with vague answers, especially not when it related to his son.

‘Maybe… After an hour, or so,’ Bryce said. ‘I really can’t say for certain, Mr. Bower.’

‘So he never came back?’ David said.

‘No.’

‘Weren’t you concerned?’

’Too right I was. I went to his room two, or three times and knocked on his door, but he didn’t answer. Once everyone had left my room, I went back there again. I figured he must have been unwell and went to bed, so I let him be.

‘The next thing I knew, the police were knocking at my door Friday morning waking me up.’

‘Why your door?’

‘Apparently the police showed the hotel staff a photo of Miles and the staff recognized him as a guest. They apparently informed the police we were traveling together. That’s why they came to me.’

David’s thoughts moved to why Miles would leave his room and walk to the harbor, on his own. Something about this wasn’t adding up to David.

‘How drunk was he when he left for his room?’

‘He’d had a few, sir, but he appeared fine to me. I’ve seen him worse.’

‘Had he taken anything stronger, Bryce?’

Deep in his heart he believed he knew his son would not dabble in illicit recreational drugs. He and Maddie had brought their three children up well, and that included educating them about the myriad of dangers associated with illicit drug use. He knew the answer, but he had to ask anyway.

Bryce’s eyes widened. He adjusted his seating position. ’No, sir. He didn’t do drugs… We don’t do drugs–at all. There is no way he had taken anything, sir. That you can be sure of.’

David nodded, reassured by Bryce’s firm reaction. ‘Good… So why did he leave his room in the early hours of the morning? It doesn’t make sense, does it?’ he asked.

‘I haven’t stopped thinking about that for the last two days, sir. I have no idea,’ Bryce replied.

‘Did the police take a statement from you?’ David asked.

‘Yes they did. They came back later in the afternoon and took it.’

Bryce rose from his chair and moved over to his bedside table. He lifted a number of documents. ‘This is my copy here.’

‘Do you mind if I read it?’

‘Of course not.’ Bryce handed David the statement.

David read through the statement while Bryce made a second cup of coffee for them both. The statement’s contents were similar to what Bryce explained.

‘I notice you mentioned the alcohol consumption in here,’ David began. ‘But you didn’t mention anything about not taking any drugs. Was that an oversight?’

Bryce abandoned the coffee making and moved back to David. His face wore a frown. ‘That’s not true,’ Bryce responded firmly.

He accepted the statement back from David and flicked through the pages. ‘They asked me if Miles had taken any drugs that night, or if he took recreational drugs and I told them that he did not.’

Bryce continued to flick through the pages of his statement. He frowned heavily. ‘They haven’t included it,’ he said.

David ran a thoughtful hand up the side of his face, through his two-day stubble. He considered why something so important, so relevant, had been omitted from a key witness statement, especially when it was clearly discussed.

‘Do you mind if I hang on to that?’ he said.

‘Of course not.’ Bryce handed the statement back to David.

‘What are you plans now, Bryce?’

‘What today…?’

‘No. Staying in Hong Kong,’ David clarified. ‘Do you intend to stay on here, or do you think you will return home?’

‘I don’t think I could stay here without Miles… The memories… The… I—’

‘I understand, son,’ David said. He gestured to the room. ‘You are welcome to stay on here, but I will leave that up to you,’ David said.

‘I think I would really prefer to go home, sir.’

‘I understand. We’ll organize that for you later today,’ David said. He stood from his seat. ‘Why don’t we grab some lunch before I attend to my next obligation. My treat.’

David had no interest in hurrying to view his son’s body.

Chapter 3

After introducing himself to the police constable at the front counter of the Hong Kong Central Police Station, a constable escorted David a short distance down a narrow corridor to the small cluttered office of Station Sergeant Eddie Cheung.

The sergeant greeted David and politely offered his sympathies for the tragic loss of his son, Miles. An expression that appeared genuine, rather than banal.

Cheung was a short, slightly built man of about forty-five years, with fresh faced features and jet black hair. He wore a police uniform that appeared to be maintained to rigid military standards. He spoke excellent English, with only a slight discernible accent.

‘I am certain you have a million questions,’ Cheung began. He gestured to the visitor chair at his desk. ‘Please…’ Cheung said, as he returned to his own chair.

With his hands clasped on the desk in front of him, Cheung watched David take his seat.

‘I do,’ David began. ’But let’s start with what you can tell me?’ David said.

Cheung’s eyes shifted to the direction of his office door. He beckoned towards the door. A Police Constable entered the office. He smiled at David and offered a half bow-half nod before handing the sergeant a manila file and a small brown paper bag.

‘Thank you,’ Cheung said to the constable, who promptly retreated from the office.

Cheung flicked open the manila folder. ‘What can I tell you?’ he asked, rhetorically. ’OK. It says here that police received a call at 5.30am on Friday morning, in relation to the sighting of a body seen floating face down in the Harbor, near the Exhibition and Convention Center in Wan Chai.

‘Attending officers located and retrieved the body, which we now believe to be your son, Miles,’ Cheung said. ‘First-response officers called the Criminal Investigation Division to the scene to assume responsibilities of the investigation. The CID — ’

’Wait. Investigation…?′ David said. ‘Why were detectives called to an apparent drowning…? And why did you refer to it as an investigation?’ David’s strong attention to detail did not allow anything to be skimmed over.

Cheung’s eyes fell back to the record. He re-read the notes. He shook his head. ‘The report doesn’t indicate why they called the CID,’ he said. ‘They were probably called because a body had been found and to make sure there were no suspicious circumstances,’ Cheung said. ‘I only referred to it as an investigation because it involved the CID.’

‘I see…’ David said, although he wasn’t convinced by Cheung’s response.

Cheung continued with his précis. ‘The CID later notified the medical examiner who subsequently attended the scene. The body… er… I’m sorry… Your son…’ he corrected. ’Had no identification on him at the time of discovery. With the body obviously being a westerner and found close to the Renaissance Hotel, the detectives snapped a photo of him on their cell phone to ascertain if he was a guest from this, or any other nearby hotel.

‘These inquiries verified that he was in fact a guest at the Renaissance. It says here…’ Cheung continued. ’Police subsequently located your son’s friend, a Mr. Bryce Fleming, in his hotel room and later interviewed him. They showed Mr. Fleming the photo they had taken and he unofficially confirmed the identity of the deceased to be your son.

‘A number of people who were in the room during the night your son went missing, whom were able to be identified and located, have also been interviewed.’

‘Can you tell me how long he was in the water?’ David asked, as he tried to piece everything together.

‘At this time, we don’t know for certain, but the M.E. who attended estimated a time of around two hours. We should know more when the autopsy report is completed,’ the Sergeant clarified.

‘How many other people from that night were interviewed?’ David asked.

Cheung’s eyes dropped back to the file. He flipped through a number of pages. ‘We were able to locate and obtain statements from six other people who were in the hotel room with your son, on the night before he drowned.’

‘And what did their statements contain?’

‘Basically, they all verified the version of events provided by your son’s friend, Mr. Fleming,’ Cheung said. ‘Pending the official autopsy report, the CID is of the opinion there were no apparent suspicious circumstances surrounding your son’s death.’

David’s eyes flared. ‘What does that—Are you saying he killed himself… Took his own life?’ The inference incensed David. He edged himself to the front of his chair.

Cheung raised a hand to David. ‘No. No. Not at all, sir,’ Cheung said. ’What they have decided is that there is no evidence to indicate foul play. It is the expected outcome that your son’s death will be reported as an accidental drowning, not a death at the hands of another person or persons.’

This finding dissatisfied David. There had to be more to this than what that report detailed. ‘My son was an elite-level competition swimmer in College. How could he drown?’

Cheung again consulted the report. ‘It says here in the report that the police suspected he had fallen, or slipped, they don’t know which, but they believe he hit his head before falling into the water and consequently drowned.’

David tried to view the notes Cheung read from. ‘Haven’t they reached that conclusion prematurely?’ David said. ‘What if someone hit Miles on the head? How can they rule that out?’

Cheung nodded. ‘Apparently, the injuries on your son were not consistent with him being physically assaulted, but were consistent with a slip-and-fall knock on the head,’ Cheung clarified. ‘But that conclusion I mentioned, is not final, sir. The autopsy has been completed but we — ’

‘Completed…’ David blurted. ‘The autopsy has already been conducted?’ David said as a question. He checked the date on his watch.

‘That is how I understand it, Mr. Bower. But we do not have the report from the Forensic Pathologist at this time.’

Worry lines filled David’s face. ‘Are all autopsies usually performed that quickly in Hong Kong?’

Cheung appeared uncomfortable. He nervously flicked through pages in the file. ‘Honestly speaking, sir… No, they are not. But for some reason, unbeknownst to me,’ Cheung said as he awkwardly thumbed through the report. ‘And it is not recorded in this report… But they expedited your son’s autopsy. It was performed yesterday,’ Cheung said.

David ran a thoughtful hand across his mouth. He gestured towards the manila folder. ‘Am I able to get a copy of everything in relation to the investigation of my son, once this is finalized?’

’I’m sorry, Mr. Bower, but the Hong Kong Police Force is required to comply with the Personal Data Privacy Ordinance. Essentially, we can only release to you anything that you have provided to police, like your statement, for example. We cannot release other people’s statements, notes or police reports.’

’But it is my son who has died,’ David said.

Cheung slowly nodded. ‘I understand, but I’m sorry, sir.’

David’s head lowered. He exhaled heavily. His shoulders dropped slightly in reluctant acceptance. ‘I understand. I’m not happy about it. But I suppose I understand.’

Cheung flicked through the file pages then stopped and lifted a page. ‘Mr. Bower, were you aware your son used non-prescription drugs,’ Cheung said.

David’s frowning face tightened while he processed the question. He glared at the Sergeant with a stare that would melt stone. ‘Non-prescription… You mean… illicit drugs?’ David clarified.

‘Yes, sir. Do you know if your son used illegal drugs – narcotics of any description?’

‘Definitely not. Why do you ask such a ridiculous question?’ David snapped.

Even though he earlier asked a similar question to Bryce, David was satisfied he could rule out the involvement of illicit drugs.

Although his son had lived the last four years of his life on campus studying at Harvard, he knew his son and his son’s friends very well. He knew, with all his heart that his son would not expose his body to the potential harm from ingesting something laced with a cocktail of toxic chemicals that existed in illicit pills or powders.

Cheung gestured to the report. ‘I’m sorry, sir, but it says here… Apparently, when police found your son, he had a small plastic bag containing a quantity of white powder on him. The officers suspected it to be amphetamines, but we won’t be able to confirm that until it has been analyzed.’

The accusation about drugs incensed David. ‘That’s ridiculous…’ he said. ’Wait… You said, “on him”… The drugs were found on him.’ David gestured to the report. ’You said they found a quantity of white powder on Miles… Correct?’ David didn’t wait for a response. ‘Where was it found… in his pocket?’ David asked.

Cheung nodded as he glanced at the file notes. ‘That’s correct,’ the sergeant said.

‘Must’ve been in a water proof bag, then?’ David’s tone was cynical.

Cheung held David’s gaze without responding.

‘You said he had been in the water for what, two hours… And you’re telling me that when they found him, he still had a bag of powder drugs in his pocket. It hadn’t dissolved away, or washed away when under water. They found him face down, so his pockets would have been under water, wouldn’t they?’ David glared at the Sergeant. Something didn’t gel. ‘That is one of the most ridiculous things I have heard,’ David snapped. His blood pressure rose. His face turned a dull shade of puce.

These unfounded accusations against his son incensed him. ‘Show me the bag the drugs were found in?’ He asked directly.

‘That is not possible, sir. It has been admitted into evidence and is yet to be analyzed.’

‘Is it being fingerprinted… The bag?’ David asked.

‘It will be. Look, all I can tell you is what is contained here in these reports. I am not personally involved in this investigation,’ Cheung said.

David realized he should probably raise his concerns to those directly involved, rather than ‘shooting the messenger’.

David fell back in his chair. He crossed his arms in frustration at the thought the Hong Kong Police were trying to portray his son as a drug user. His eyes darted as his mind raced.

Could the cops have planted those drugs on Miles? If so, why would they need to do that if they deemed his death accidental? Something just isn’t right…It doesn’t seem to add up.

Cheung lifted the small brown paper bag, the top of which had been folded over and secured with a seal of evidence tape. A label affixed to the bag indicated the contents belonged to Miles.

‘Are you happy to take possession of your son’s property today?’ Sergeant Cheung asked. ‘This is only the property Miles had on him when police took possession of his body,’ Cheung said. ‘We have an order for his hotel room to remain secured until you are in a position to attend and collect the rest of Miles’ possessions from there. Maybe we could do that today as well,’ Cheung suggested.

David accepted the brown bag from Cheung. He ripped it open and looked inside. ‘Is this it…?’ he asked. ‘This is all Miles had on him when they found him…?’ He said as a question.

‘That is correct,’ Cheung verified.

David’s eyes returned into the bag. He peered inside like a child disappointed by the school lunch his mom had made him.

‘Some Hong Kong coins, a few small denomination Hong Kong bills, his gold ring and his gold necklace,’ David said.

‘That is all he had,’ the Sergeant firmly reiterated. ‘Obviously we have not included the clothing he wore at the time,’ Cheung clarified.

‘Where is his watch…? The $45,000 watch I bought him as a graduation present? His wallet… His credit cards. Where is his room key?’ David asked firmly. This was becoming frustrating. ‘If he left his room, wouldn’t you think he would take his room key with him?’ David said. He glared at the sergeant.

‘I don’t know, sir. Maybe his room key fell from his pocket. I can’t answer those questions Mr. Bower. Maybe his watch is in his room. All I can say is, what you have in your hand is the only property your son had on him at the time of discovery by police.’

David shook his head. He rubbed a hand across his mouth. His questioning mind raced.

‘Now, do you have any further questions?’ Cheung asked.

‘Plenty… I have plenty of questions, sergeant,’ David barked back at Cheung. ‘But it’s the answers I’m not getting.’

‘I can’t tell you any more than what I have here in the file.’ Cheung placed his hand on the closed file.

‘I understand…’ But what he didn’t understand was why this wasn’t as straight forward to him, as it was to the police who prepared that report? Why were there so many unanswered questions?

‘I will ask you to sign this property release form to verify that you have received your son’s property, then we will need to attend the mortuary for the formal ID of your son,’ Cheung said.

He passed the carbonized property sheet and indemnity release form across the desk to David. ‘Do you think you are up to identifying your son’s body?’

Davis accepted the paperwork and pen from Cheung. ‘Not really,’ he said. ‘But it has to be done, doesn’t it?’

Prior to signing, David read through the hand written list of items on the property sheet. The last entry caused him considerable aggravation. It read,

“1 x small clear plastic bag containing a quantity of white powder. NOT RETURNED –EVIDENCE PROPERTY REGISTER 12/753 REFERS.”

‘I will never accept that my son used drugs,’ David declared as he scribbled his signature and date on the bottom of the page.

Cheung received the paperwork back from David, then separated the pages and handed David his copy of the property sheet.

David aggressively folded the copy over and shoved it deep into the brown bag containing Miles’ possessions. He was far from satisfied over how this incident had been handled.

Chapter 4

A notable tension existed during the twenty minute drive from the police station to the Mortuary, but it was David who was tense, not sergeant Cheung.

The suggestion of drug use by his son bubbled inside David. He didn’t say much, but the anger pulsated from him.

Sergeant Cheung navigated the kamikaze-like small red and white cabs that dominated the congested Hong Kong roadways, to eventually arrive at the Victoria Public Mortuary located in Kennedy Town on the western side of Hong Kong Island.

David took a moment before alighting from the police car to gather himself. He stared at the unimpressive concrete colored exterior with the words, “Victoria Public Mortuary” in both English and Chinese characters attached to the building’s façade.

He tried to swallow, but his mouth was dry. He didn’t want to do this, but he had no choice.

As soon as he stepped inside the building a wave of anxiety engulfed David. He became genuinely afraid of what he expected to encounter through those side doors emblazoned with what he assumed were warning signs in Chinese.

The Mortuary assistant attended to the relevant paperwork, during which David confirmed he intended to fly his son’s body back to the US.

David learned that it would take about seven days, at a minimum, before his son’s body could be released to return to the US.

Following the legal formalities, the Mortuary assistant introduced David to the Forensic Pathologist, Doctor Chiu-Wai. To help ease David through the difficult procedure that would ensue, Doctor Chiu-Wai discussed the process they would follow for formally identifying his son.

A man of senior years, wearing the customary and somewhat cliché white coat, the Doctor had short graying hair and a choice of prescription glasses that would have been chic circa 1980.

David noticed the Doctor stood with a pronounced stoop, presumably a legacy from many years of hovering over gurneys for prolonged periods.

Finally, before attending to the formalities of the identification, the doctor informed David that on Saturday 30 June 2012, under the authority of the Coroner’s Court of Hong Kong, a forensic pathologist conducted an autopsy examination on his son Miles.

Dr. Chiu-Wai said the findings of the autopsy would establish his son’s cause of death, whether it be accidental or the result of foul play.

‘Did you conduct the Autopsy?’ David asked the pathologist.

‘No, it wasn’t me, sir. But if you require the name of the pathologist who performed the autopsy, I can arrange that for you before you leave,’ the Doctor replied.

Once the formalities were completed, the Doctor moved and opened the nearby doors displaying the Chinese warning signs. He held the doors open while he beckoned David and sergeant Cheung through.

Walking through the door, David entered a dimly lit corridor with diffused fluorescent lighting at even intervals along the roof. An unpleasant chemical smell immediately penetrated his nostrils and the air was noticeably colder.

He could feel his muscles tensing and his pulse rate increasing. His heart thumped against his sternum. His stomach tensed in fearful apprehension. He did not want to see his son under these circumstances.

David followed the Doctor along the corridor. He unintentionally found himself slowing down and falling out of step with the other men.

Without breaking stride, the Doctor forcefully pushed open the opaque plastic doors at the end of the long corridor.

David followed the Doctor into the room, but stopped in his tracks when confronted with the off-white curtain that stretched across the interior of the small room.

This room was much colder than the corridor, with an overpowering chemical smell.

Although he was a mentally and physically tough man, David had to summons all his energy to fight the impulse to turn and flee from this dreaded room.

A strong unpleasant salty taste entered the back of David’s mouth. He didn’t know if it was due to the offensive smell, or his increasing nerves, but he had to fight back the urge to vomit.

The Doctor moved to one end of the curtain and walked the curtain across to the other side of the room, opening it up to reveal a white, sheet-covered body on a gurney.

David froze at the sight of his son’s covered body.

After his earlier chat with the Doctor on what would occur during the identification, David had an idea of what to expect, but it still didn’t make it any easier. No amount of careful pre-briefing could prepare a parent for this.

The Doctor moved and stood at the Gurney on the side opposite to David. He paused and regarded David, allowing a couple of beats to pass by.

Despite the chilled temperature in the room, beads of sweat formed across David’s forehead. Perspiration ran down his back. His heart thumped on the inside of his chest and his breathing increased as stared at the gurney before him.

David nodded ever so slightly; more of a reflex action than a conscious response. The Doctor slowly peeled back the sheet exposing only Miles’ head. The rest of his body remained covered.

All David could hear was his blood thumping in his ears as his pulse rate skyrocketed. His eyes widened at the sight of his son.

David slowly edged closer to the gurney. He stared at the unnaturally pallid face of his eldest boy. Tears ran freely down his cheeks as his eyes passed over the length of the sheet covered body, before returning to Miles’ exposed head.

Right at that moment, life’s harsh reality hit home, and it hit home hard. Everything was confirmed. It was Miles in the harbor; there had been no mistakes.

Miles’ hair looked wet and had been brushed back over his head, in complete contrast to how he usually wore it.

The top left of his forehead had a small nodular bruise. Thick makeup had been crudely applied to Miles’ face, presumably to mask what appeared to be blackened eyes. Miles looked at peace, if nothing else.

David’s tearful eyes lifted to the Doctor standing opposite. ‘Why does he have black eyes? Is that normal…? Had he been in a fight?’

The Doctor’s eyes briefly flicked to the sergeant, standing to David’s right, then back to David. ‘Black eyes are consistent with someone who may have fallen and struck their head.’ The Doctor indicated the small mark on Miles’ forehead.

David nodded once slowly, without making eye contact with the Doctor. He stared at his boy in overwhelming disbelief.

David reached out and gently touched Miles’ forehead. Miles’ colorless skin felt cold and its texture felt unnaturally rubbery.

He slowly dragged the back of his hand down the side of his son’s cheek. He slowly bent forward and softly kissed his son on the forehead for the last time. He prolonged his farewell kiss to his boy.

With his face remaining close to his son, he quietly whispered, ‘good-bye my boy. I’m going to miss you… So much.’ Tears ran down his cheeks, as he stood back from the gurney. His eyes remained locked on his son.

David wiped the escaping tears. After a brief moment to gather himself, he lifted his eyes to the Doctor and nodded once; an unspoken indication he had finished.

Standing unmoved with his hands clasped in front of his body, the Doctor asked, ‘are you able to officially confirm this is the body of your son, Miles David Bower?’ The Doctor’s tone was official. He was all business.

David stared at his son. He tilted his head sideways as he looked down on Miles’ face. David’s mouth straightened and his eyes closed briefly as he gave an almost indiscernible single nod, before responding, ‘Yes.’ David felt numb.

The Doctor slowly replaced the sheet over Miles. He then moved to usher the men out of the viewing room by way of a gentle hand motion towards the door.

David stood unmoved as he watched his son’s face disappear for the last time under the cold white sheet. The finality of it, while yet to fully hit him, was overwhelming. That would be the last time he would see his son.

His mouth and lower jaw twitched from the intense sorrow he felt as he fought back the torrent of tears that in time, would flow uncontrollably through his grief.

David raised his hand towards his son in a motionless wave. His eyes remained fixed on the white sheet as he quietly uttered, ‘Farewell my little man.’

His head was down and his shoulders were slumped as he slowly turned and moved towards the door.

Prior to exiting, David stopped and turned back for one last time; one last look at the sheet covered body of his son, before he left the room.

The long walk up the corridor to the front office seemed like uphill to David. His legs were heavy and his head bowed as he walked. His face held a frozen stare as the shock of seeing his dead son started to take hold.

‘No parent should ever have to go through that,’ David mumbled to nobody in particular. His companions opted to remain silent.

With the last of the paperwork completed, Sergeant Cheung could now escort David to Miles’ hotel room to collect the rest of Miles’ property.

---

David wasn’t in the mood for conversation during the twenty-five minute drive to the Renaissance Hotel in Wan Chai and the sergeant didn’t force the issue.

With so many questions, David didn’t know where to start. The strong feeling in his gut told him something did not seem right. Why did Miles leave his room in the early hours of the morning – on his own? Where are his watch and wallet? Was he the victim of a robbery, or something more sinister?

Despite what the Police were alleging, he knew with all his heart that Miles did not do drugs, and they would never convince him otherwise.

His layman understanding is that black eyes usually result from broken noses, or more severe head injuries, such as fractures, not just from a small knock on the top of the head. The Pathologist’s comments did not seem credible to David.

The time approached 6.30pm Sunday evening when David & Sergeant Cheung arrived at Miles & Bryce’s Hotel. Cheung promptly sought out the Hotel’s Duty Manager to assist them in accessing Miles’ locked room.

Following brief introductions the Hotel Duty Manager, who introduced herself as Frances, escorted Sergeant Cheung and David to Miles’ room.

The police security seal around the inner architrave of the door was still intact when they arrived at the room 1202. Sergeant Cheung ripped away the police security seal and Frances opened the door.

David entered the room first. He paused when he noticed the credit card-sized door key inserted in the wall mounted slot, located immediately inside the door.

A guest required this card to activate the room’s lighting. He checked the room and noticed the lights in Miles’ room were on.

He turned to address Frances as she entered the room. ‘How many room keys are allocated to your guests?’

‘When we have one guest in the room, we only issue one room key,’ she said, accompanied by a pleasant smile.

David gestured towards the room key in the wall mounted slot. ‘So the guest is required to use that same room key to activate the lights?’

Standing with her hands clasped in front of herself, Frances nodded, ‘That is correct, sir.’

‘Which they would have to remove from this wall slot when they exited the room, otherwise the guest could not re-enter the room,’ David clarified, almost rhetorically.

‘That is correct, Mr. Bower,’ Frances said.

David shifted his gaze to Sergeant Cheung. ‘Did the CID attend this room Sergeant?’

‘I’m not sure, but I would expect they would have, before they sealed it,’ Cheung said.

‘Ah, yes they did, sir,’ Frances said. ‘I let the detectives into the room on Friday morning and they sealed the door when they had finished.’

‘Did you place this room key in the wall slot for the detectives?’ David asked Frances.

‘Um, no, actually, I didn’t. I went to insert a card for them, then I saw that one already in there. I didn’t give it another thought, to be honest. The open blinds provided sufficient natural light in the room anyway.’

David ran a contemplative hand through his hair. There were so many unanswered questions.

Why did Miles leave his room key in the light wall slot by the door when he left his room on Thursday night? He would not be able to re-enter the room without the key.

David’s questioning eyes flicked to Cheung. He flicked a finger at the card in the wall slot. ‘I assume this is documented in the police report, sergeant,’ David said.

‘I’m sure it is in their notes, Mr. Bower. They recorded all their observations, Sir,’ Cheung said.

David moved into the room, which was an identical floor plan to Bryce’s room at 1206. The bathroom was located on the right. Further along a short hallway the room opened into the bedroom area where a king size bed sat prominently along the right hand wall.

Beyond the bedroom area, a two and a three seat sofa, separated by a timber coffee table, were positioned by the large window overlooking the panoramic harbor vista.

David flicked a finger at the made bed. ‘That obviously hasn’t been slept in…’ he said.

He moved to the middle of the empty room where he stood with his hands on his hips as he scanned the room. What really went on in here.

He turned to Frances. ‘Thank you for your help, Frances. If I require anything else, I will contact you,’ he said.

Frances smiled and nodded once. ‘Very good, sir,’ she said, then exited the room.

David moved slowly and methodically while he gathered all of Miles’ possessions, laying them out on the bed so he could take inventory. As he did so, Cheung recorded Miles’ property onto a police property sheet.

Once satisfied that all of Miles’ possessions were now on the bed in front of him, he scanned the room’s bench tops, tables and re-checked the bed side drawers one last time.

‘Miles’ watch and wallet are not in this room…’ He declared. He glared at Cheung. ’They are not in the property that you returned to me earlier today, and they are not in his room. Where are they?’

‘I’m very sorry, Mr. Bower,’ Cheung extended open palms. ‘I really cannot answer your question without speculating or guessing, and as you can appreciate, sir… That is something I am not prepared to do, under these circumstances.’

David glared at Cheung for an uncomfortable extended period. He shifted his focus back to the property on the bed.

If this is so straight forward… Why are there so many unanswered questions?

He was not satisfied by the lack of answers to something the police were quick to write off as a straight forward accidental drowning.

It took David a further forty-five minutes to caringly fold and pack his son’s possessions into Miles’ suitcase. Each item represented a painful reminder of his late son and why he had to fly half way around the world to be here.

All the while, the very compassionate Sergeant Cheung waited patiently in silence for David to finish.

Chapter 5

After closing the last of the zips, David lifted the case down onto the floor. He extended the case’s handle.

‘I think that’s everything,’ David said, as he quickly scanned the room.

Cheung nodded slightly then handed David the property sheet. ‘I will ask you to read through this property sheet,’ Cheung began. ‘And if you are satisfied you have everything, sir, I will ask that you sign it to verify you have accepted all of your son’s property.’

David accepted the sheet and carefully read through the contents. He then scribbled his signature on the page and handed it back to Cheung, who separated the pages and handed David his copy.

David extended his hand to Cheung. ‘Thank you, Sergeant. I appreciate your help today,’ David said.

Cheung accepted the gesture and shook David’s hand. He then reached into his shirt pocket and removed a generic Hong Kong Police business card. He wrote his name and direct contact phone number on the front of the card.

He extended the card, held forward in both of his hands to David, with a slight bow of his head. ‘If there is anything I can do to help you, Mr. Bower, or if there is anything you need while you are in Hong Kong, please let me know, sir,’ Cheung said.

David accepted the card and briefly glanced at it. ‘Thank you, Sergeant. I appreciate that…’ David began. ‘Actually, there is one thing you can do for me,’ David said.

‘If it is within my powers to do so, I would be more than happy to help, Mr. Bower.’

‘I would like you to contact me as soon as the official autopsy result is available. Are you able to do that?’

’That I can do, sir. No problem. Do you have a contact number while you are staying in Hong Kong?’

David handed Cheung one of his own business cards. ‘You can contact me on the cell number on that card.’

Cheung briefly glanced at the business card before sliding it into his shirt pocket. ‘I will call you once something is known, sir.’

‘If there is nothing else you are required to do, Sergeant, I should be right from here,’ David said.

Cheung smiled back at David and nodded once. ‘I will leave you to it, Sir. I wish you all the best under these very trying circumstances Mr. Bower,’ he added before turning to exit the room.

‘Thank you, Sergeant.’ David said.

With the sergeant gone, David removed his cell phone and took a series of photographs of the room key, still in the light housing.

He then secured the room and made his way down the hall to Bryce’s room, wheeling Miles’ suitcase behind him.

Despite several attempts, the repeated knocks on Bryce’s hotel room door went unanswered, so David decided to return to his own nearby hotel room.

As he strolled along the empty hallway, he heard Bryce call out, ‘Mr. Bower.’

David turned to see Bryce’s head and shoulders poking out from his room doorway.

‘I thought you must’ve been out,’ David said. He returned to Bryce’s room.

‘Sorry. I didn’t hear you. I had fallen asleep,’ Bryce said. The bags under his heavily blood shot eyes corroborated his story.

David checked his watch. ‘It’s only 7.55… What are you doing sleeping?’ He said. ‘I’m twice your age and flown 16,000 miles over the Pacific and I still haven’t been to bed yet.’

‘I haven’t done much sleeping these last few days, sir.’

‘I hear that,’ David said. He placed a comforting hand on Bryce’s shoulder. ‘What have you got in your mini bar, son?’ David asked, as he wheeled the case into Bryce’s room. ‘I could use a drink right now.’

David made himself comfortable on the lounge by the window overlooking the harbor, while Bryce prepared a shot of Johnny Walker Black, from the mini bar.

He handed David the drink then carefully asked, ‘how did everything go today?’

David accepted the drink and took a big warming sip. He silently regarded Bryce for a brief moment before his eyes lowered to the glass held firmly with both hands. He allowed a few moments of contemplative silence to beat by, without any response.

‘It’s something I never want to go through again,’ David eventually replied, then emptied the contents of his glass in one gulp.

He examined the empty glass in his hand before continuing. ‘Police say they found a small bag of drugs on Miles – amphetamines they say,’ David said.

He glared at Bryce. ’Are you absolutely certain he did not do any drugs, Bryce…? I need to know the absolute truth.’

‘That’s bullshit,’ Bryce blurted. ’I’m sorry, sir.But there is no way Miles had any drugs on him. No way.’ Bryce firmly shook his head.

’How do you know he didn’t do any drugs when he left your room, Thursday morning? Could he have snuck away to buy some drugs, or self-administer a ‘hit’?’ David asked.

Bryce aggressively shook his head. He scowled at David in protest of his friend’s honor. ‘No way, Mr. Bower. I know Miles better than anyone… Even better than you, sir. The only people he despised more than drug users, were the scum that sold the drugs in the first place. You have to believe me when I say, there is no way in hell he used drugs, or carried drugs on him. And I will never be convinced otherwise, sir.’ The whites of Bryce’s wide-eyed glare dwarfed his steel blue pupils.

David nodded. He was somewhat relieved by Bryce’s convincing response. ‘I believe you, Bryce,’ David said. ‘I just had to know, son… Thank you,’ he said before continuing.

‘The police want to write Miles’ death off as an accident… No suspicious circumstances they say…’ David shook his head. ‘But I’m not so sure.’

Bryce held a puzzled glare at David. ‘No suspicious circumstances…?’ He asked with his voice rising in an upward inflection.

Bryce leaped to his feet and retrieved a newspaper from the cabinet beside his television. ‘This is Saturday’s paper,’ Bryce said.

He flicked through the pages then handed the newspaper to David. ‘See the article on page there…’ Bryce tapped the newspaper article. ‘Does that read like there were no suspicious circumstances?’ Bryce said.

David read the headlines to himself –“US Tourist Found Floating in Harbor.” He momentarily turned his eyes away from the article while he composed himself.

After a brief pause, he summonsed the strength to continue reading the article to himself. When he reached the last sentence he read it out aloud.

“Detectives believe the death of the young tourist is suspicious and they are calling for anyone with information to contact their local police station.”

David stared at the article. Concern lines formed in his face. ’The police have just spent the afternoon telling me there were no suspicious circumstances,’ David said.

His mind flashed back to Miles’ body. He recalled how the Pathologist only exposed Miles’ head, while the remainder of the covering sheet sat tightly bunched under Miles’ chin.

He assumed that was to prevent exposing David to the traumatic sight of the ‘Y’ incision on his son’s chest, but now he wasn’t so sure.

Was the Pathologist hiding something else? Were there visible injuries the Pathologist didn’t want him to see?

‘Who wrote this article?’ David asked rhetorically, as he scanned the article for the by-line. ‘Huang Xia Men,’ he read, then closed the paper to read the front banner; South China Morning Post.

’Why would they write there were suspicious circumstances, if there weren’t any?’ Bryce asked.

‘To sell papers…?’ David replied. ‘I don’t know, Bryce, but Mr. Huang will.’ David held the newspaper up to Bryce. ‘Do you mind if I keep this?’

Bryce nodded and extended his hand to David.

‘There is another issue,’ David began. ‘Did you take any photos on Thursday night?’

‘Absolutely.’ Bryce jumped to his feet and retrieved his iPad. David watched Bryce access his photograph library. He then handed the iPad to David.

’That is a photo of Miles and me at the Italian restaurant on Thursday night, before we went to Lan Kwai Fong. The waitress took it for us,’ Bryce said.

‘Slide your finger for the other photos we took.’

David sat in silence examining each photo as it slid onto the iPad screen. Some photos he chose to zoom in closer, while others he looked at briefly before moving on to the next.

David turned the iPad to face Bryce. ‘When did you take that photo?’ he asked.

The photo depicted Bryce and Miles standing with their arms around each other’s shoulders, each holding a bottle of beer cheerfully raised to the camera.

Bryce accepted the iPad from David and examined the photo. ‘Um…Oh yeah, we took that in here.’ Bryce gestured to his room. ‘See that picture there,’ Bryce indicated a painting in the photo’s background, behind him and Miles. ’That is that painting there on the wall.’ He gestured to the large painting on the wall over his bed.

’Did you take the photo on Friday morning after you returned from your night at Lan Kwai Fong?’

‘That’s right. One of our friends took it.’

’So, you took that photo sometime after 2am, when you returned to your room, Friday morning?’ David said. He needed to be sure of the time line.

‘Correct.’

’Every photo I have looked at with Miles in it… The ones from Thursday night… He was wearing his Patek Phillipe watch, especially this last one here of you and him.’ David gestured to the photo on the iPad screen.

‘He loved that watch, Mr. Bower. He wore it everywhere,’ Bryce said.

‘You took this photo in the hours before he disappeared… right?’ David asked. Bryce nodded. ‘Then why wasn’t he wearing his watch when they found him?’

‘His watch is not in the property the police removed from him…and it isn’t in the property I collected from his room… Neither is his wallet.’

‘Maybe they robbed Miles before he…’ Bryce’s voice trailed off.

‘I don’t know, Bryce…’ David rubbed a hand across his mouth. ‘There is more to this than the Police are letting on. I just don’t know what… But I will,’ he said. ‘I am here until the end of the week at least, and in that time, I will be seeking and demanding answers,’ David declared.

David made it his mission to search for the answers to this puzzle. He owed that to the memory of his son.

Whether he had to grease palms, or turn over every stone himself in his quest, he intended to find out exactly what happened to Miles and what the police were covering up.

‘Have you booked your flight home yet?’ David asked.

‘I have. I got onto a flight on Tuesday at noon,’ Bryce said.

‘Excellent,’ David said.

He then invited Bryce to join him in his dinner reservation he earlier made at his hotel’s restaurant.

‘But beforehand…let’s hit the bar and share a drink in memory of Miles,’ David said.

---

Despite a solid night’s sleep, aided by the copious quantities of alcohol he consumed with Bryce, David still awoke Monday morning feeling disillusioned and flat. His body clock was still adjusting to the new time zone.

With so much occupying his mind, the jet lag had fortunately caught up with him, resulting in a much needed sedative effect.

David sat in the hotel restaurant at his table for one, having just consumed a satisfying chef prepared breakfast of salmon, scrambled eggs on toast, bacon, hash browns and chipolatas, all washed down with freshly squeezed orange juice.

He enjoyed a cup of coffee while he perused the daily South China Morning Post newspaper; one of the few English language newspapers in Hong Kong.

As his eyes moved to the articles on page three, his expression tightened. He frowned at the headline that caught his attention. He returned his cup to the table to lift the newspaper in both hands while he read.

“Harbor Drowning Tourist Identified. By Huang Xia Men.”

The same journalist who penned Saturday’s article also wrote this latest one.

It wasn’t a big article, but it hit with the impact of a sledgehammer on his chest. The article read:

“The body of a US tourist found floating in Victoria Harbor on Friday morning has been identified as Miles David Bower, the 22 year old son of US Billionaire David Bower.

A world away from his luxury Manhattan apartment the victim was said to be holidaying in Hong Kong as part of an around the world holiday, when he slipped and struck his head, causing him to fall unconscious into the harbor where he drowned. Detective Sergeant Kevin Chung from Central CID advised, “The matter has been thoroughly investigated and we are satisfied there are no suspicious circumstances.

“The unfortunate death of this young man was an avoidable accident resulting from the over indulgence of drugs and alcohol.”

The US Consulate advised the young man’s body will be flown back to the US for a family arranged burial.”

David stared at the article in disbelief at what he read. His jaw clenched and his face tightened. How dare they publish these lies that smear my son’s name and character.

“…avoidable accident resulting from the over indulgence of drugs and alcohol…” He said to no one, then aggressively screwed up the newspaper and discarded the crumpled remains across his breakfast table.

The look on the face of the Maître D who scurried over to David’s table suggested he must have let out an audible protest in his Adrenalin fueled anger.

David waved the Maître D away then stormed from the restaurant, not breaking his stride until he found himself standing out by the Harbor.

The gentle breeze served to cool his face, which by now was flushed due to his growing anger and frustration.

David ran a hand through his hair as his mind raced. On Saturday this Huang person reported Miles’ death as suspicious. One day later, and now there were no suspicious circumstances and my son is a drug user. What the hell is going on here?

David paced aimlessly around, devastated that such lies could be printed in a newspaper. What’s more, he believed the lies were covering up something more sinister. He didn’t know what, but his gut instincts rarely let him down.

In the short time he had been in Hong Kong, and without even trying, he had uncovered too many questions that remained unanswered; questions that an appropriately conducted investigation would have and should have resolved. Is it because Miles is only a tourist…? But why plant drugs on him?

At that moment, David decided that if the police weren’t going to investigate Miles’ death properly, then he would. He owed it to his son and his family. He would clear Miles’ name and expose those who had gone to great lengths to bury the truth. And the first place to start was with Mr. Huang and the South China Morning Post.

David quickly returned to his top floor suite to make some notes on what he knew to date.

Chapter 6

When he had finished, David checked his watch. The time had just ticked past 9.30am. He reclined in his leather chair and clasped his hands behind his head while he considered his next move.

He had to consider everything very carefully because he may only get one shot at locating vital information. He wasn’t a trained investigator, so inquiries such as these did not come naturally to him. He did his best to channel his inner Sherlock Holmes.

David glanced around his lavish suite while he plotted his next steps. He noticed the brown paper bag containing Miles’ property still sitting on the suite dining table.

The police evidence bag would be a recurring reminder of a Sunday he would rather forget, so he decided to remove Miles’ contents and discard the bag.

When David upended the property bag onto the table, the coins and gold jewelry sent a symphony of metal clinking sounds through the room.

He checked inside the bag to ensure he had everything, then removed the folded copy of the property sheet.

With the bag now empty, he tightly screwed it up in his hands, then like a basketballer shooting a free throw, he lobbed the crumpled up bag into the small cylindrical metal rubbish bin ten feet away in the corner.

David lifted the folded property sheet and considered the merits in retaining this document. It too served as a constant reminder of unpleasant events passed.

He unfolded the single page and examined it again before deciding whether to discard it.

He re-read through the entries listed on the page before deciding he didn’t want to keep the document. All the property listed has been returned and signed for.

He folded the page over in half and scoffed. ‘Except for the drugs,’ he said to himself.

David suddenly paused his actions. The drugs. He re-opened the folded property sheet and placed it on the table. He wiped his hands across the page to flatten it out and stood leaning on his arms while he once again studied the sheet’s contents.

There were five entries written in a vertical list. The first four entries consisted of the coins, Hong Kong bills, a gold ring, and a gold chain. The last entry related to the drugs police allegedly found on Miles.

David noticed something. He studied the page. The hand writing for the last entry differed to the previous four items listed above it. Even the pen thickness differed. How did I miss that before?

This last entry relating to the drugs had clearly been added after the other four items had already been recorded on the sheet.

The variation in hand writing clearly suggested a person, different to the one who originally completed the property sheet, added this last entry. Why is that? Who added the entry?

Logically, one would assume that a search of Miles’s pockets would locate everything in his possession at that time. If the drugs were discovered in his pockets, they would have been added to the property sheet at the same time the other four items were listed – but apparently they were not.

Then why were the drugs added later? Could the different hand writing suggest the drugs were added as an afterthought?

David searched though the hotel provided stationery on the desk and located a plain letter-sized business envelope. He slid the copy of the property sheet inside the envelope.

This would be where he would keep any relevant documents he uncovered in his investigation.

Although he moved slower than a more highly trained and experienced sleuth, he had to logically think through what he hoped to achieve and how he hoped to achieve it.

He decided that he would try and map out an investigation plan of sorts, as a blueprint to follow. His goal would be to retrace Miles’ steps from Thursday night on.

The first item on his plan was to speak to the journalist, Mr. Huang. There may be nothing sinister with Huang, or his contradictory news reports on the suspicious or not suspicious circumstances surrounding Miles. Huang could simply be reporting what the police fed him.

But the journalist’s initial report in Saturday’s newspaper must have come from someone who had expressed initial concerns over the suspicious circumstances, and it was those initial concerns that interested David.

David’s first attempt at ringing the phone number listed for the South China Morning Post rang out unanswered, with no provision to leave a voice message. This seemed unusual. He checked the number before redialing again. Success.

The voice on the other end advised that Mr. Huang Xia Men was unavailable until early-afternoon. David left his name and contact details and asked that Mr. Huang return his call at his earliest possible convenience.

After hanging up from the South China Morning Post, David decided to look through the notes he had prepared of what he knew about this mystery, to help decide his next step.

What about Miles’ missing wallet? David ran a thoughtful hand up the side of his cheek as he stared at the list. Could it have been stolen? Or did Miles lose it?

He remembered that he hadn’t cancelled the Titanium credit card he gave Miles. It would certainly have been in his wallet when it went missing.

He considered that if Miles’ wallet had been stolen, then the credit card may have been used since it went missing.

The credit card David gave Miles was a pre-paid Visa debit card that allowed the card holder access to monitor their transactions and balances online – 24/7.

Being the control freak that he was, David set up the card holder’s online account registering his own username and password, so he could remotely monitor Miles’ spending and track him via his transactions.

Even though the boys were intelligent young men, holding degrees in Medicine and Law between them, they were book smart not street smart.

Both boys were raised in the sheltered environment of affluent households, where everything was done for them. This meant they were somewhat naive to the ways of the world and this always concerned David.

Yes, his tendencies were that of control freak; he had to be, to survive in his billion dollar business world. But first and foremost, David was a concerned and caring parent of a child traveling overseas.

He trusted Miles implicitly, but he also knew that at twenty-two years of age, the lazy $50,000 in his pocket could cause a young man to adopt strange habits.

David booted up his iPad and navigated to his banking site. He then accessed all Miles’ transactions, since Miles and Bryce arrived in China.

He ran his eyes over the lengthy list of transactions. His suspicions were correct. There were four transactions appearing on Miles’ credit card statement that were dated after Thursday night, the night Miles went missing.

Two occurred on Friday, one on Saturday and one on Sunday, with all transactions occurring in stores on Hong Kong Island.

Did someone steal Miles’ credit card, or did someone find it after Miles lost it? If someone stole it, then this person must know something about what happened to Miles, he considered.

David noted down the transactions.

$4200 purchase from Downtown – Times Square in Causeway Bay on Saturday

$1500 pair of Jimmy Choo shoes from The Landmark in Hong Kong Central on Friday

$1200 Louis Vuitton hand bag from The Landmark in Hong Kong Central on Friday

$1700 in total of designer clothing from Pacific Place in Admiralty on Sunday

The purchases totaled US$8600 since Friday morning. The purchases and the type of stores suggested to David that a female had to be involved.

David took a screen shot of his iPad screen. He then contacted his financial institution to arrange a stop on the missing credit card.

---

A man of David’s financial stature was not accustomed to travelling in cabs, or public transport. So shortly after his arrival in Hong Kong, David arranged for the private street car that picked him up at the airport, to be available to him every day between 7am and midnight, while he stayed in Hong Kong, whether he used it or not.

The driver essentially became his personal chauffeur. He considered it a small price to pay for the convenience of a driver and a comfortable motor vehicle on call.

With list in hand David made his way down to his awaiting vehicle. He wasn’t sure what to expect, but he wanted to visit the stores where these latest purchases were made, to see if he could find out who made these large purchases. It was a place to start.

---

David’s first stop was the upmarket Landmark Mall in Hong Kong Central. It was a massive shopping mall of over six levels, spread over four adjoining buildings.

He learned very quickly that the Mall was one of Hong Kong’s more exclusive shopping centers, frequented by the more affluent clientele.

This could cause a problem. A purchase of Jimmy Choo shoes or a Louis Vuitton hand bag would not be out of the ordinary.

As to be expected for the amateur sleuth, David’s inquiries came up empty. None of the staff could recall who made these individual purchases.

His trip to Pacific Place in nearby Admiralty also returned a similar outcome. While not as upmarket as the Landmark Mall, and only spread over three floors, several stores in the complex sold designer brand clothing.

Unfortunately there was nothing irregular about the purchases that would prompt the sales attendants’ memories, not even the Titanium credit card used in the purchases.

After returning to his vehicle, David slumped into the back seat. He was becoming disheartened. Things were not coming together like he had hoped. He started to concede that conducting investigations may be more difficult than he initially thought.

His confidence was low during his journey to his last option –Times Square Mall in Causeway Bay.

Upon arrival at the shopping mall, David took a moment to survey the ground floor of the mall in a typical first-time glance. There were hundreds of people everywhere, crisscrossing in all directions.

A visitor directory boasted the complex housed 230 shops spread over sixteen floors. He learned from the interactive directory that the Downtown store he sought was located on level nine.

David wedged himself onto the overcrowded series of escalators that linked the various floors, while he navigated his way to the 9th floor.

The Downtown electrical store was conveniently situated directly opposite the top of the escalators.

It didn’t take long for his inquiries with this store to proceed down the same path as his previous two stores. The female sales assistant he spoke to confirmed she worked on Saturday and Sunday, but she did not recall the transaction.

‘It was a US$4200 transaction… How many single transactions of that value do you get in here?’ David asked in a tone dripping with frustration.

A young salesman approached. ‘Excuse me, sir. I am sorry to interrupt… But did I hear you correctly? Were you asking about a US$4200 purchase on last Saturday?’

David regarded the short, overweight salesman with Buddy Holly style dark rimmed glasses.

‘That’s correct…’ David replied. He read the man’s name on his photo ID lanyard, ‘Ming…,’ David said. ‘Please tell me you able to help me?’

Ming stood with his hands clasped together in front of himself. ‘What seems to be the problem, sir?’ Ming asked.

‘Were you here last Saturday, or is there someone else that I can talk to who remembers the US$4200 transaction?’ David said. He had lost patience dealing with incompetent sales staff.

‘I rang through the transaction, sir,’ Ming said. ‘I remember it very well. The young gentleman said he was a millionaire from Macau. His family apparently owns Casinos, or something.’ Ming appeared quite pleased by his recollection.

’He told you he was a millionaire, did he…?’ David’s tone was skeptical.

He knew first-hand that any person of considerable affluence would not openly broadcast their financial status, especially not to a sales assistant.

‘He did, sir…Well, not immediately,’ Ming began. ‘But when he produced a Titanium Visa card, I knew he must’ve been wealthy. I commented to him about the card and that’s when he told me,’ Ming recalled. ‘Is there a problem, sir?’ Ming again asked.

He regarded David with an assessing up-and-down glance of his designer label clothing and substantial gold Rolex watch.

Being a man of impeccable style and taste, David insisted on a quality wardrobe. Like most things in his life, he knew exactly what he wanted and he paid handsomely for the luxury.

His choice of label was based on the style, cut and quality often found with recognized designer brands. It was fair to assume that even his most casual attire far exceeded the ‘Sunday Best’ of the average punter.

David deliberately ignored Ming’s question. ‘What did the person who produced the titanium credit card look like…? Can you describe him to me…?’ David asked.

‘I can, but I’m not sure I want to. Can you tell me what this is all about?’ Ming said, as his own body language started to close up.

David sighed heavily. His patience ran thin. ‘The card used in this transaction is mine. It was stolen on Friday morning,’ David said. ‘I’m trying to find out who used the card. Can you help me, or do I have to find someone else who will?’

Being a man of considerable standing in both business and society, David did not suffer fools lightly and found it difficult to deal with incompetence.

Time was money to David. He had a simple attitude – Get him what he wanted now, or find him someone else who could.

David watched Ming approach a nearby computer cash register and proceed to tap the screen several times. ‘I have the transactions here, sir. I rang it through at 10.17am,’ Ming said, before he continued to read from the computer screen.

‘Four iPads and an iPhone 5 were purchased in the transaction. But we had no record the card was stolen, sir. It cleared when I rang up the transaction.’

David aggressively scratched the back of his head in frustration, while he carefully chose his words. ‘The card hadn’t been reported stolen at that time,’ David firmly replied. ‘I will ask you again… Can you describe to me the person who used my card? Was he on his own?’ David asked.

‘I can remember him, but how do I know you are the owner of that credit card?’ Ming asked, as if he really wanted to poke this bear with a stick.

Chapter 7

David threw frustrated arms in the air. In doing so he noticed a CCTV camera at the back of the sales counter.

He removed his wallet and slid out his Titanium Credit Card; the Primary card to Miles’ Secondary card.

‘Do you have the credit card number used in the transaction…?’ David asked. ‘If you do, you will see that this card has the same number except for the last two digits… That is because they are linked,’ he said in a lecturing tone. David pushed the credit card in front of Ming’s face.

Ming stared blankly at the Titanium credit card. Ming’s body language and demeanor instantly changed.

David gestured to the CCTV security camera behind the front counter. ‘Is that thing working…?’

Ming glanced over a shoulder. ‘Absolutely…24/7,’ he said.

‘Am I able to view the footage from last Saturday… Around the time when my card was used?’ David asked.

Ming firmly shook his head. ‘I’m sorry, sir. I can’t authorize that.’

‘Look…’ David began. ‘I cannot stress how important this is to me. Find me someone who can authorize it,’ he demanded.

Ming shook his head. ‘There are privacy and security issues involved, sir,’ he said.

David realized that in places like this, sometimes the only language that was understood was the language of money. Money was power and David had plenty of both. It was time to play that card.

‘Look. I am prepared to pay for a copy of the footage. Who can I talk to about this?’

‘I’m sorry, sir but I—’

‘Excuse me…’ A wiry male about fifty years of age interjected on Ming. He gently nudged Ming aside. ‘I’ll handle this, thank you, Ming.’ David eyed this salesman. He was a shifty looking car salesman type.

The man lifted his lanyard to David. ‘My name is Greg,’ he said. ‘I am the store Manager,’ he proudly declared, then clasped his hands together in front of himself. ‘Did I hear you correctly…? You were wanting to view our security camera footage.’

’That’s correct. Can you help me…?’ David asked, then flicked a frustrated glare in Ming’s direction.

‘Well, I can, sir. But this is confidential security footage… But maybe we can come to some sort of arrangement.’

Here we go.

‘Did I hear you say that you were prepared to pay to view the footage?’

David’s eyes narrowed as he held the Manager’s glare. ‘That’s correct,’ David began. ‘You have good hearing.’ His sarcasm was obviously lost in translation.

‘I’m certain that this is the first time you have been asked such a request,’ David began. ‘But… What is the fee to view the footage?’ David asked. ‘And I require a copy of it as well,’ he added.

The Manager slowly regarded David. ‘This footage you want…’ the Manager began. ‘Important to you, is it?’

Here it is David thought. Another stupid rich American tourist... David rolled his eyes. ’It is not important… It is of interest to me,’ David said.

The Manager squinted as he eyed David. ‘One Thousand Dollar… US dollar,’ he eventually replied.

David scoffed. ’I don’t want to buy the camera. I only want to view some footage,’ David said.

‘This is private footage. You get to see how store operates and customer transactions. One Thousand dollar,’ Greg repeated.

David shook his head. Amateur hour, he thought. ‘How is me paying you one thousand US dollars going to circumvent the privacy of the viewed footage…?’ David said. ‘That is absurd logic,’ he said. ‘Are you really the Manager?’ David’s eyes dropped to the lanyard draped around this person’s skinny neck.

‘Look…’ David continued. ‘I’ll give you $500, which is ten times more than this whole exercise is worth to me,’ David said. His well-honed negotiation skills warmed up.

The Manager shook his head. ‘No. One thousand dollar,’ he quickly snapped back. ‘If you want to see footage.’

The money was not important to David, this had now become a business transaction. Negotiating was what he did for a living and he was highly skilled at it.

In business, his competitive nature didn’t allow him to lose, regardless of the value at stake.

He didn’t get to where he was in business by rolling over to amateurs like this store Manager. He loved a challenge and rarely lost, so the time had come for him to go to work.

David removed five US$100 notes from his pocket and fanned them out to the Manager. ’Look all I have is $500 US. You can either take that now… Or I go and get the cops and they will take a copy for evidence. And they will give me a copy for free. Your call,’ he said, waving the money. ‘Five hundred now… or I get the cops and you get nothing.’

The Manager remained silent. He appeared to be considering his options before he tried again. ‘One thousand dollar…’ He said. ‘Or you don’t get footage.’

David threw his head back in frustration. He plunged the cash back into his pocket. ‘Then it’s nothing…’ David waved the back of his hand at the Manager. ‘You’ll get nothing,’ David said. ‘I’ll get the cops.’ He moved towards the door.

He hadn’t walked four paces before the Manager yelled, ‘Wait… Seven fifty dollar,’ he offered. David continued to walk. A brief grin emerged at the side of David’s face as he walked. He knew he had him.

David’s lack of response as he continued to walk to the door must’ve been clear to the Manager.

‘OK.’ The manager raised his hand. ‘OK… Five Hundred Dollar. Plus… You buy thumb drive for copy,’ he added.

David turned to face the Manager. ‘You just made yourself $500 my friend,’ David said.

David and the Manager squeezed into the small rear office to examine the digital security system. The Manager sat at the desk operating the security system while David stood looking over the seated man’s shoulder.

The Manager keyed in the required search parameters and they were instantly reviewing footage from 10am last Saturday on a large computer monitor.

The clarity of the footage was impressive. He felt confident he would get a clear image of the offender.

At 10.11am three males and one female approached the counter with iPads in their hands. ‘That’s them,’ David said. David moved closer to eye the four young persons at the counter.

One of the males produced Miles’ credit card from a wallet, but David couldn’t discern if the male removed it from Miles’ wallet.

This person was the tallest of the three males. The other three people with him, stood back behind him, but were still visible in the review.

The person who produced the card had a closely shaved head, with the exception of a thick row of black hair, about three inches wide and ½ an inch high, running up the middle of his head, similar to a flattened down Mohawk.

The low-neck, white t-shirt he wore exposed what looked like a jade green snake tattoo on the right side of his neck. He also had a full tattoo sleeve down his right arm to his wrist. One of society’s model citizens, David thought.

The contempt David felt for this person engulfed him as he watched the review. The video clearly captured the facial features of all four people involved in the transaction.

David noticed Ming insert the credit card into the credit card reader before handing the device to this person, who then appeared to key in the security PIN.

David frowned. How would he know the PIN? He continued to watch with interest, then he noticed something.

‘Stop,’ he yelled to the Manager. ‘Go back,’ David blurted. ‘Back to where he keys in the PIN,’ David said. The Manager obliged.

David moved his face closer to examine the footage frozen on the screen. ‘I knew it… That piece of shit is wearing Miles’ Patek Phillipe watch on his left wrist.

The style of the watch was clearly visible on screen when the male person keyed in the PIN using his left hand.

David understood there were rip off merchants all over Hong Kong. Markets everywhere sold fake prestige watches for as little as US$20. And yes, he realized the watch could be a fake, but this person had Miles’ credit card, so he was prepared to bet that this person also wore Miles’ watch.

David considered, if that is Miles’ watch, then this person probably knows what happened to Miles. This person is now the key to this whole thing. But who the hell is he?

David figured that the male’s rebellious, non-conforming appearance suggested he may be well known to the local police.

The Manager copied the relevant file containing the video footage onto a thumb drive for David. When David reached to accept the storage device, the Manager slightly pulled it away from David and said, ‘twelve dollar… For thumb drive,’ he said lifting the thumb drive up to David.

David laughed in amazement. He peeled off a US$20 bill and threw it on to the desk beside the Manager, before relieving the Manager of the thumb drive. ‘Keep it,’ David said then made his way from the office and out of the store.

David grinned to himself when he boarded the ‘down’ escalator. I would’ve gone as high as ‘two-large’ for any footage of value, he mused.

To David, this was business and in business, it’s all about what you want, how bad you want it and what you eventually pay to get it.

A wry victory smile emerged across his face while he descended from the upper floors.

As he made his way out, David visited the small café tucked away on the periphery of the Times Square Mal ground floor.

Drawn by the aromatic coffee bean odors permeating the entire lower level, David sat and enjoyed a strong Espresso coffee.

Being a self-proclaimed connoisseur of quality coffee, David examined what he considered to be a well brewed Espresso when the table waiter handed it to him.

The single serve sugar portion he poured into his coffee sat momentarily grouped on the surface of the golden-brown crema, before slowing sinking through the covering surface and into the cup.

Always the sign of a quality coffee, he thought, as he vigorously stirred his drink.

Given what just transpired, a strong coffee provided a timely opportunity to gather his thoughts, hoping to benefit from the caffeine intake provided.

The possibility he could have just looked at the person who killed his son, caused him to shudder. This man illegally used Miles’ credit card, which spoke volumes about this person’s character.

David was also satisfied this person was wearing Miles’ missing watch. The question was, how he came to be in possession of them.

The logical conclusion would be to take a copy of the video to the police, to see if they recognized these people, but right at this moment, he wasn’t confident he could trust the police.

As he sat enjoying the soothing benefits of his coffee, his cell phone vibrated on the table. David lifted the phone and glanced at the unrecognizable number on the display before answering the call.

‘David Bower…’

Mr. Huang from the South China Morning Post was returning David’s earlier call.

David briefly explained why he initially contacted Huang. The journalist agreed to meet with David at Huang’s office in around thirty minutes to discuss the matter further.

This left plenty of time for David to enjoy the rest of his coffee.

Chapter 8

The tenant menu board in the building foyer indicated he required the 3rd floor.

Another elevator ride, he reluctantly realized.

Although living and working in a high-rise Penthouse apartment and office building, very few people who knew David were aware he was uncomfortable with the concept of elevators.

The thought of standing in the claustrophobic confinement of an elevator, where the push of a button transported him within a narrow shaft in a building’s interior, made him very uneasy.

Only once the elevator arrived at his chosen level and those imprisoning doors sprung open, he released a silent sigh of relief and relaxed the tension built up in his shoulders during each ride.

It was probably the one thing that he tolerated out of necessity.

As he stood in isolation inside the elevator, while its momentum thrust him upwards, he examined the interior of his temporary confinement.

The walls of every elevator he had the misfortune to ride in during his time in Hong Kong, were mirror-lined; even the back of the doors, and this one was no exception.

The elevator jerked to a stop at the 3rd floor with the typical ‘Ding’ tone resonating through the enclosed space. After a brief pause, the doors opened to release him on his way.

David identified himself to the front office receptionist, who politely asked him to wait while she contacted Mr. Huang.

David stood reading some of the newspaper articles and photos prominently displayed on a wall opposite the reception desk, while he waited.

Before long he heard his name called from behind.

‘Mr. Bower…’ the voice called.

David turned towards the voice. A short Asian man approached him. The man had distinctive thick, scruffy black hair, tinged throughout with grey streaks that appeared like it hadn’t seen a comb in decades.

He wore rimless glasses and had a finely grown mustache-goatee combination that David suspected wouldn’t survive in a strong wind. But most of all, David noticed the man’s welcoming smile.

‘Tony Huang,’ the man said.

David noticed Huang offered his western name, rather than his Hong Kong name.

‘Ni Hao, Tony… David Bower,’ David replied. He returned a firm business-like handshake. ‘Thank you for seeing me today,’ David said.

With raised eyebrows Tony’s facial expression lit up. ‘Ah… Ni Hao, David… You know Chinese?’ Tony said, more of a question than a statement.

‘Unfortunately, only very little Tony,’ David said. ’Through my communications and dealings with my Beijing office, I have learned some very basic Chinese terms.

‘Very good David,’ Tony replied. ‘I am impressed. Your accent is very accurate.’

Tony escorted David to his desk located in a large open plan office area behind the reception’s rear wall. One of about twelve desks, Tony’s was situated in a corner beside a large window.

The flood of bright natural light bathing his desk and its immediate surrounds, compensated for the unimpressive view from his 3rd floor desk.

It was a pleasant alternative to the rapidly flickering fluorescent lighting tubes that artificially illuminated the rest of the office area.

Tony gestured to the visitor’s chair at his desk. ‘What can I do for you today, Mr. Bower?’ he asked while lowering himself into his chair opposite.

‘Please, call me David.’ Tony smiled and nodded. ‘I mentioned to you on the phone that I am interested in an article you wrote about the discovery of my son’s body in Victoria Harbor.’

‘Ah, yes, Mr. Miles. That’s right, I remember,’ Tony said with a nod. ‘Please let me say Sir that I am terribly sorry for your unfortunate loss. It must be very hard for you.’

‘Thank you,’ David said. ‘I appreciate that.’ David shuffled himself to the front of his seat in preparation of his pending discussion.

‘The article you wrote in Saturday’s paper reported that there were suspicious circumstances surrounding the discovery of my son,’ David began.

Tony sat with his hands clasped in front of him on his desk. ‘That is correct.’

’Then in today’s paper you reported that there were, no suspicious circumstances.’ David continued.

Tony sat nodding.

‘I don’t understand, Tony,’ David said.

‘Ah, OK,’ Tony began. ’Firstly, in incidents such as the one involving your son, we rely on the information police provide.

‘On Friday morning detectives who attended the scene informed me that they felt there were suspicious circumstances, so that is what I reported.’

‘I see,’ David said. He noticed Tony’s English was as articulate as any westerner, which probably explained why he wrote for an English language Chinese newspaper. ‘And Today’s paper…. Why the change?’ David asked.

’The police rang me on my cell phone Sunday afternoon and requested that I change the story. They wanted me to write that there were no suspicious circumstances.’

David rubbed a thoughtful hand across his chin. ‘Is that normal…? I mean, do you often receive calls from the police insisting that you change your original story?’

Tony shrugged. ‘Sometimes… It happens.’

David leaned onto his elbows. ’You mentioned the detective told you he thought there were suspicious circumstances. Did he mention to you what caused him to think the injuries were suspicious?’

Tony sat back in his chair. He removed his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose before replacing his glasses.

‘They said they couldn’t understand how your son ended up in the harbor.’ David frowned his confusion while Tony continued.

‘You see, the area where they found your son, near the Exhibition and Convention Center, has safety fencing around the water’s edge to prevent people accidentally falling into the harbor.’

David nodded. ‘That in itself is a concern, wouldn’t you agree?’ David said.

Tony nodded. ‘The detective I spoke to, told me your son’s head injuries and bruising on his body suggested he had been severely assaulted.’

David’s face tightened. ‘Bruising on his body?’ David repeated. Tony nodded.

David’s mind wandered back to the Mortuary viewing.

Why wasn’t any of that disclosed when he viewed Miles’ body, he wondered. ‘I see… Is that the same detective who called you on Sunday?’

Tony shook a firm head. ‘No. No. Detective Sergeant Kevin Chung called me on Sunday. The detective I spoke to at the scene was, um… Li Ming… or Jack Li,’ Tony said, offering the detective’s western name, presumably for simplicity.

‘Did you happen to see my son when you were at the scene?’

‘No. The police had the area cordoned off. I spoke to them at the perimeter.’

‘Your article didn’t mention any of the injuries to my son.’

‘That is correct. It is usual for the police to ask us not to publish the injuries of an assault victim. I think it is so they have a trump card up their sleeve in any investigation,’ Tony said.

‘So, on Friday morning, while at the scene, the attending police believed my son was the victim of a serious assault,’ David clarified.

Tony nodded. ‘That is how the police reported it to me, yes.’

‘And on Sunday… two days later… they no longer believe that. How can things change in a day or so? What did the detective say in the call you received?’ David asked.

Tony scratched his head through his thick matted hair before responding. ‘The sergeant who rang me told me that the detective I spoke to Friday morning must’ve got it wrong. There weren’t any serious injuries on the body… er… on, on your son,’ Tony corrected.

‘Got it wrong…’ David repeated. ‘How do you mistake serious injuries?’ David asked, albeit somewhat rhetorical. ‘My son had serious injuries… or he didn’t.’

Tony simply shrugged in response before continuing, ‘The sergeant said that while he didn’t know how your son came to be in the water, he said they had completed their investigation and they were satisfied your son’s death wasn’t suspicious. He stressed the importance in me rewriting the article for Monday morning, to clearly indicate there were no suspicious circumstances,’ Tony said.

‘Important…’ David repeated. ’Did he say why it was so important?’

Tony shrugged before responding. ‘No he didn’t.’

David glared at Tony. ‘You wrote in today’s paper that the accident resulted from the over indulgence of drugs and alcohol…’

‘That’s correct. That is what the sergeant told me to report.’

‘Did you see any evidence of this supposed drug use…?’ David asked.

‘No.’

‘How would the police possibly know that?’ David said. ‘They wouldn’t have received the toxicology results by Sunday. How can they possibly conclude that my son was drug and alcohol affected?’

Tony held David’s glare while he allowed several seconds to pass. ‘That’s a very good question,’ Tony said. ‘I don’t know the answer to that. Maybe from witnesses they interviewed. I don’t know.’

David fell back in his chair, somewhat deflated. He clasped his hands behind his head as his eyes moved around the open plan office.

He knew in his heart there weren’t any witnesses that attested to his son using drugs. ‘Does any of this seem strange to you?’ he asked Tony, seeking an impartial opinion and maybe some support.

Tony held David’s firm expression. A moment of extended silence passed. ‘I suppose it does, a little,’ Tony said. ‘I see what you are saying. There must’ve been a good reason why Detective Li thought the injuries to your son were serious… and then for that to change, so suddenly and within one day’s time span…’ Tony said. ‘Police never explained to me how they thought your son came to be in the water, but they were satisfied there were no suspicious circumstances in relation to his death. That does seem a little odd.’

‘And the fact they prematurely concluded there were drugs and alcohol in my son’s system… before any tests results were received… Doesn’t that seem odd to you too?’

Tony nodded. ‘I have to agree…Yes it does, now that you mention it.’

‘Thank you, Tony – Xie Xie,’ David said in his best Chinese accent for, ‘Thank you’. ‘I have taken up enough of your valuable time today.’ David stood and extended his hand to Tony.

Tony pushed himself away from his desk and shook David’s hand. ‘My pleasure, sir. I hope I helped you in some way.’

---

During the drive back to his hotel David relaxed in the back seat while his driver negotiated the chaos of Hong Kong’s arterial roadways.

Having this time to sit and think, David decided he should call the detectives involved in his son’s investigation. He removed Sergeant Cheung’s card from his wallet and dialed the Hong Kong Central Police station.

He considered at this time it would be prudent to ask Detective Jack Li directly what injuries he noticed on Miles.

An Asian female answered the phone in Chinese, followed immediately in English.

‘Criminal Investigation Division, please,’ David asked.

‘One moment please,’ came the reply.

David waited briefly before the ringing phone answered. ‘Criminal Investigation Division,’ an unidentified male answered.

‘Good afternoon, Detective Jack Li, please,’ David said.

‘Sure… just one moment. Um, may I say who is calling please?’

‘Certainly. My name is David Bower.’

Silence…

David face tightened. ‘Hello…’ David said. He inspected his phone’s connection.

After an extended pause a curt voice answered, ‘Yes.’

‘Detective Jack Li?’ David asked the unidentified voice.

‘No. This is Detective Sergeant Chung. Detective Li is not available at the moment. What seems to be the problem?’

David recognized the name of this Detective as the one who called Tony Huang on Sunday and directed Tony to change the earlier newspaper article.

‘When will he be available? I will call back then,’ David asked.

‘Look… he is unavailable all day. Do you want me to help you or not…? I am too busy to stand talking on a phone all day…’ The arrogance in his tone offended David.

David started to explain. ‘My name is David Bower. My son was-’

‘I know who you are,’ Chung said abruptly. ‘What is it you want?’

David was taken aback by the austere attitude of this person confronting him over the phone. He took a breath to control himself. How does he know who I am? He considered.

‘I want to know what injuries my son had sustained before he died,’ David said.

‘Why do you think he had injuries…?’ The detective began. ’He didn’t have any injuries… well, except from a small bump on his forehead, where he hit his head,’ Chung clarified.

‘Detective Li said that the injuries to my son’s head and body caused him to suspect that my son had been viciously assaulted before he died. I want to know what those injuries were.’ David demanded.

Silence filled the phone for several seconds.

‘Said to whom…?’ Chung eventually said. ′Look. I don’t know where you get your information from but there were no injuries, OK. If there is nothing else, I have a lot of—’

‘Detective Li told a journalist at the scene on Friday morning that he held suspicions over my son’s death because of the severity of the injuries my son had received to his head and body,’ David said. ‘Why has that now changed…?’

‘Why were you speaking to journalists?’ Chung asked.

Answering a question with a question, David thought. A classic ploy often employed by many to avoid answering a difficult question.

‘What does that matter…?’ David said. ‘I am trying to get to the bottom of what happened to my son.’

‘As far as I understand it, you have already been told what happened to your son when you were in here on Sunday. Nothing has changed. Your son had too much to drink, he had been using drugs…probably clowning around…he slipped, hit his head and drowned. It is as simple as that…’ Chung replied in a voice devoid of any sensitivity or compassion.

He could very well have been discussing the adverse weather conditions, with the lack of empathy shown.

‘If it is as simple as that… How did his body end up in the water…? You can’t just stumble and fall over those safety fences around the harbor,’ David asked.

Another pause of silence. ‘Look… I’m not going to stand here all day and argue with you. We have—’

‘Oh, I’m not arguing with you, detective…’ David said. ‘I’m simply asking questions that you are failing to answer.’

’We have conducted a thorough investigation. Your son’s—

‘Thorough…’ David said in an aggressive and questioning tone. ’I’d hardly call it thorough, detective.’

‘As I was saying…’ Chung said firmly. ’Your son’s death was an accident… OK? That’s all there is to it. End of story. I have to go,’ Chung blurted.

‘Oh no… It is far from the end of the story,’ David said. ’And let me reassure you, sergeant… Something is not right here… and I will not stop looking until I find out what happened to my son.’

‘You need to listen to me, Bower…’ Chung barked back. ‘And this advice is for free… Your son is dead. Nothing you can do will bring him back… LET-IT-GO… For your own good.’ Chung punctuated his threat by hanging up the phone.

David checked the phone’s display where “Call disconnected” filled the screen. Are you kidding me?

The relative solitude in the back of his street car during the return to his hotel caused him to think. He started to question whether he had done the right thing by calling the cops.

Did he really achieve anything? Chung clearly wouldn’t let Detective Li speak on the phone. But why? The discussions with Chung only further compounded David’s suspicions that something was not right. But what, exactly? He considered that maybe he should’ve gone higher… spoken to Chung’s superiors.

More than ever he believed the police were trying to hide something, but he had no idea what, or why.

Chapter 9

David decided to check in with Bryce and update him on what he had found out to date.

While strolling through the reception foyer of the Renaissance hotel, on his way to the lift lobby, David noticed the hotel duty Manager, Frances at the customer service counter.

Frances greeted him with a pleasant smile as he approached. ‘Good afternoon, Mr. Bower,’ she greeted.

‘Ni Hao Frances – Good afternoon,’ David replied. ‘Look… I need to arrange check out from my son’s room. I have been so distracted, I forgot to do it previously,’ he said. He placed Miles’ room key on to the counter.

‘No problem, sir, I can do that for you now.’ Frances gently tapped on the computer keys. ‘Um… The room has been paid in advance until next Monday, sir, so I will have to arrange for a credit card reversal.’

Frances opened a drawer in front of her and searched through it as she spoke.

David held up a hand. ‘You know what, Frances…’ David said. ‘Let it go. I don’t want any refund. Just check him out of the room,’ David said.

‘But, sir…’ Frances began. Her eyes dropped to the computer screen in front of her. ‘You are owed a credit on your card of over $1200 US.’

David gently flicked the back of his hand towards Frances. ‘That’s OK. You keep it,’ he said.

‘But, sir, we can’t just keep the room fee,’ Frances said. Her brown eyes showed a mix of genuine concern and confusion.

‘Sure you can… Treat it as a tip, or something. I’m sure there is some way you can arrange it, Frances,’ David said. ‘Given what has transpired, I don’t want it refunded. I don’t need it to be refunded. I’m sure you understand,’ David said.

‘Of course, sir. I understand. Thank you for your generosity,’ she said.

‘You are most welcome,’ David said. With a smile and a single nod he made his way to the elevator lobby.

Bryce greeted David with a freshly poured scotch when David arrived at Bryce’s room. While enjoying the warming effects of the much needed beverage, David updated Bryce on the video footage he obtained from the Downtown store in Causeway Bay.

Unfortunately their iPads did not accept USB devices, so in order to play the footage for Bryce, they had to make their way to the hotel’s Business Center and boot up a desktop PC.

After a short stroll, they were seated at the business center desk, drinks still in their hands, while David played the footage depicting the four people at the counter.

David indicated the main offender on the screen. ‘Have you seen this guy before?’ David asked.

Bryce moved closer to the screen. ‘You know what…?’ Bryce said. ’I think I have seen him around. He is not someone you forget in a hurry,’ Bryce said.

‘Can you recall where you saw him? Did he attend with the others here in the room on Thursday night?’ David asked.

Bryce’s eyes lowered. He shook his head. ‘No.’ Bryce said ‘No… he didn’t come back to the room, but I’ve seen him around at places we were at, you know, clubs and bars,’ Bryce said.

David gestured to the three accomplices. ‘What about these other three?’ David asked. ‘Have you seen any of them before?’

Bryce moved closer to the screen. He reeled back suddenly. His eyes flicked to David. ‘Were they with this guy who had Miles’ card?’ Bryce asked. His facial expression had tightened.

David noticed Bryce’s reaction. ‘That’s right. They each placed an iPad onto the counter before they stood back. Do you know them?’

Bryce pointed at the screen. ‘I know her…. That’s Lee Sung. You may remember I told you about her,’ Bryce said.

David shook his head. His mouth inverted. ‘No, I don’t recall.’

‘We met her and her friends up at Victoria Peak and then we later met them in Lan Kwai Fong,’ Bryce said.

‘Ah yes… I do remember you telling me about them,’ David recalled. ‘But I didn’t know her name. Is she one of the people you invited back to your room on Friday morning?’ David asked.

‘Look, she was…’ Bryce said. ‘But Miles and I both found her to be a really great chick… Very friendly. She seemed so genuine I…’ Bryce’s voice trailed off. ‘Shit,’ Bryce said.

David watched as Bryce appeared to learn some of life’s harshest lessons the hardest way possible; not everyone can be trusted.

’Can you remember if she left your room at all after Miles had left?’ David said as he tried to piece everything together and work through the events.

Bryce’s held a vague stare. ‘No. She didn’t leave at all,’ he said. ‘She sat over by the window with some of the group… No, she definitely didn’t leave,’ Bryce said.

’OK. Did you happen to see if she made a phone call at any time after Miles left, especially soon after?’ David said.

Bryce again sat with the now familiar vague stare. ‘I had a bit to drink that night, Mr. Bower,’ Bryce said. His eyebrows suddenly lifted.

His eyes widened and his body sat upright. ‘You know what… Now that you mention it…’ Bryce began. ‘Shortly after Miles left, I took her over a fresh drink refill and when I walked over to her… I think she was texting someone. She stopped typing when she noticed me approaching,’ Bryce said. ‘I didn’t think much of it at the time. Do you think that means something?’ Bryce asked.

‘I don’t know, Bryce. Could be nothing,’ David said. But he lied. David already suspected this, Lee Sung may have been involved somehow, especially when she was depicted in the CCTV footage with the Mohawk man purchasing an iPad with Miles’ credit card.

‘What about these guys with her…?’ David lifted his chin towards the computer screen. ‘Were they in the group you invited back to your room?’

Bryce re-examined the other two males, then sat back. He shook his head. ‘No… I don’t recall seeing either of them before,’ he said. He rubbed the stubble up the side of his face. ‘They definitely weren’t in the group we invited back to my room.’

David removed the USB drive from the computer. ‘I think we should re-examine the photos that you took Bryce,’ David suggested. ‘I am very curious to see if any of these other characters appear in any of them.’

Both men made their way back to Bryce’s room.

---

Views that extended across water were always mesmerizing, and in the case of Victoria Harbor, these views were no exception; they were the jewel in Hong Kong’s crown.

Regardless of which side of the harbor one viewed it from, it remained a sight to behold and one that thousands of tourists to Hong Kong captured daily.

Although David woke to a magnificent helicopter view of New York City every day of his life, the view over Victoria Harbor was still a unique and mesmerizing outlook.

Whether by day, or night, the panoramic harbor vista was captivating, and even more so if viewing was done from an elevated position.

In the evenings, the blackened canvass of night provided the perfect backdrop and accentuated the variety of brightly colored neon signs from globally recognizable brands that adorned the high-rise buildings towering over the harbor.

Every night at 8pm, without fail, thousands of people lined the shores of Tsim Sha Tsui, or gathered in ferries, or on private charter boats to watch the impressive laser light show firing from the roof tops of the Island’s buildings.

Despite these impressive distractions however, neither man held any interest in the magnificent elevated view of Victoria Harbor on offer from the comfortable lounge chairs positioned by the large windows in Bryce’s room.

Instead they directed their collective focus inside the room, to the various holiday snaps on Bryce’s iPad.

Bryce was one of those enthusiastic travelers who preferred to capture every holiday moment with his camera. Needless to say, his digital albums of holiday snaps were plentiful.

David swiped from photo to photo, sorting through the megabytes of stored images, to see if the Mohawk man had stalked the boys.

Bryce sat immediately to David’s right watching eagerly from the side, occasionally providing an impromptu narration for any photo of interest.

Several of the photos depicted their new friend Lee Sung with Miles and Bryce, but David couldn’t locate Mohawk man in any of the photos.

His concentration diminished as he started to tire. After sorting through the myriad of images that captured so many young people, all posing, all smiling happily at Bryce’s camera lens, David reluctantly conceded that Mohawk man wasn’t captured in any of the photos.

After arriving at the very last photo, the one taken in Bryce’s room on Thursday night, David returned the photos to the start.

The very first photo from Victoria Peak filled the screen. David’s focus firmed. He zoomed the photo in to examine it further.

A grin filled his face. David gestured to the iPad screen. ’See that.’

Bryce accepted the iPad from David and examined the zoomed in photo. His face lit up. ‘That’s him,’ Bryce declared. ‘Standing in the background… that’s definitely him,’ Bryce said.

The number of people scattered throughout the background of every photo taken at Victoria Peak suggested to David that the popular tourist attraction was very busy last Thursday when Bryce and Miles were there.

Somehow, David noticed Mohawk man and his two friends blending into the relative anonymity of the photo’s crowded background.

‘I was too narrow focused…’ David said. ‘I only looked for him as one of the main subjects in the photos, that’s why I couldn’t find him.’

David immediately set about re-examining all the photos a second time, but this time only concentrating on the backgrounds of each image.

Each time he spotted Mohawk man in a photo, he notified Bryce, who recorded the photo’s number and the person’s location in the photo.

As a result of his search, David identified nine photos where Mohawk man and his two friends were conspicuously visible, ‘hiding’ in the photo’s background.

Like a ‘Where’s Wally’ hunt, David found him in three images taken at Victoria Peak and a further six images spread across the four bars the boys had visited while at Lan Kwai Fong.

In each photo David located depicting Mohawk man, he noticed Mohawk man clearly looking on from the presumed obscurity of distance, but still close enough to be identified.

David crossed his legs. ‘It is possible these guys followed you back here from Lan Kwai Fong?’ David said. ‘I think your little friend here,’ he flicked a finger at the iPad. ‘Lee Sung may be working with Mohawk man and his friends,’ David said.

‘Do you think?’ Bryce said. ‘Why?’

‘She was with Mohawk man in the Downtown store on Sunday buying iPads with Miles’ credit card. Add to that, Mohawk man seemed to be in every bar you were in during the course of your night in Lan Kwai Fong,’ David said. ‘I don’t think that could be a coincidence?’

Bryce moved to the sofa opposite David. ‘I hate to admit it…but I think you may be right,’ Bryce said.

‘I suspect she finds cashed-up young male tourists and befriends them and when the time comes, her heavies move in and rob them,’ David said. ‘Obviously I have no proof of this but…’ his voice trailed off. ‘I wonder if there is any CCTV footage from the bars in Lan Kwai Fong,’ David said, thinking out loud. ‘That would be very interesting. Might confirm a few suspicions,’ he added.

David placed the iPad on the coffee table, then rubbed his hands together. ‘That’s enough of that. You have to get packed,’ David said. ‘We will be leaving for the airport around 8.30am in the morning,’ David said.

Bryce returned a puzzled expression at David. ‘We…?’ he said.

’Yes we…’ David repeated. ‘I’ll have my street car take you to the airport. I’m not letting you catch a train. That way, I can make sure you get on board safely,’ David said.

He had assumed the role of guardian to his late son’s best friend.

---

The following morning at Hong Kong airport, when he watched Bryce disappear through Customs, it brought back similar emotions to those David experienced several weeks earlier at JFK.

He remained to watch Bryce being herded through the security screening area. He then moved to watch as Bryce boarded the escalators to descend to the lower level departure lounges.

Bryce paused before boarding the escalators and turned back to David, who continued to watch Bryce like a proud foster parent.

Bryce was visibly upset. David offered him a reassuring wave, to which Bryce responded in kind, before he stepped onto the escalators and descended from David’s view.

David found it difficult watching Bryce disappear from his sight. Bryce represented the happy connection to his son, and a distraction that kept him focused, while he remained in Hong Kong.

That connection was now lost with Bryce returning home. David was now alone and he felt a little claustrophobic by the heavy weight pressing on his chest.

He knew it would be a difficult time, emotionally, for Bryce when he returned home without his best friend by his side. He expected that they won’t know for some time just how this whole experience will have affected Bryce.

Although the time in the States approached midnight on Monday night, when Bryce boarded his plane, David telephoned Bryce’s parents to let them know Bryce had safely boarded his flight and was on his way home.

Chapter 10

David returned to his room after safely seeing Bryce off on his return flight back to the US.

He checked his watch. The time neared 1pm. He copied all the Hong Kong holiday photos from Bryce’s iPad last night, before Bryce left, including the nine photos of Mohawk man and friends, in case he needed to refer to them at a later stage.

After returning to his suite, David experienced an unusual feeling of isolation. Bryce had been good company for David, and they both helped each other cope with the stress and pain of losing Miles, so tragically.

David glanced around his suite, as though it was the first time he had seen the room. If he wanted to get through this week he had to keep busy.

He remembered the boys were drinking at Lan Kwai Fong on Thursday night. That was a good place as any to start.

David activated his iPad and accessed his browser. After typing in “Lan Kwai Fong”, the various hits reported that Lan Kwai Fong was the most famous bar street in Hong Kong.

It was a popular location for foreigners and expatriates for drinking, clubbing and dining at the eighty restaurants and bars spread along a narrow L-shaped lane.

’Eighty restaurants and bars…’ David blurted. He ran a thoughtful hand through his hair. That was too many to visit.

David fell back in his lounge chair, while he considered a way to narrow down his search of the bars the boys attended on Thursday night.

He quietly rued the missed opportunity to obtain the details from Bryce, before he left.

David stared blankly out his hotel room window across the vast expanse of Victoria Harbor. He remembered he took a screen shot of the credit card transaction summary for Miles’ credit card. The summary listed the last time Miles used his card.

David retrieved his cell phone, accessed his photo gallery, and slid his way to the last image in his gallery.

He zoomed in on the statement’s text. Miles’ last transaction recorded a bar called La Vida Loca. The US$300 payment suggested to him that Miles either bought drinks for a group of friends, or the drink prices were incredibly expensive.

David dialed the number for La Vida Loca. The male who answered to call confirmed the bar was currently open for business.

---

The drive from his hotel to Lan Kwai Fong was relatively short. Before he knew it, his driver had pulled up outside the La Vida Loca.

The streets of the popular bar district were quiet at that time of the day.

La Vida Loca was an open fronted bar with bar stools situated right on the street. It would clearly be a popular position on a busy night to watch the passing crowds flood by.

When he alighted from his vehicle, David noticed the security camera positioned to the right of the bar. His immediate thoughts were, I hope that works.

After entering the narrow fronted bar, David took a moment to glance around. With the exception of one couple seated at the street end of the bar, it was empty, which was probably understandable for two in the afternoon.

The young barmaid stacking glasses behind the bar caught David’s eye and offered a pleasant smile. ‘Can I fix you something to drink, sir,’ she asked.

David considered he should probably purchase a drink or two, if he intended to seek assistance from the proprietor. ‘What single malt whiskey do you have?’ David asked.

The young barmaid glanced at the row of bottles lining the mirrored rear wall of the bar. ’Um… In the malts, we only have Glen Livet,’ she replied.

’A double neat Glen Livet it is then, thank you,’ David said. He peeled off one US$20 bill and dropped it onto the counter.

If he was to gain access to CCTV footage, he would need to speak to the person in charge, so taking the time to sip his drink allowed him the opportunity to scope out the bar.

He watched for anyone who appeared as though they were management. The young barmaid who served him was the only staff member in the place.

David raised a hand in the direction of the bar maid. She smiled in acknowledgment as she approached David. ‘Another drink, sir?’ she asked. She lifted his near empty glass.

David smiled to himself, as he watched his first unfinished drink being taken away by the eager young bar maid.

‘Why not?’ He shrugged. A wry grin filled his face as he peeled off another $20 and dropped it onto the bar counter.

The bar maid served up his second malt scotch and scooped up his $20 from the bar. She returned a short time later with his change on small white plate.

Just like his first drink, he informed the young barmaid to keep it.

It pleased him to see how the sizable tip caused such a bright smile that lit up her young face.

‘Could you please tell me if there is a Manager working here today.’

The pleasant smile on the barmaid’s face instantly wiped away. ‘Have I done something to upset you, sir?’ She asked, with genuine concern etched across her face.

He smiled reassuringly and shook his head. ‘Your service has been excellent, that is why I tipped you,’ he said, with a comforting smile. ‘I have something I want to discuss with your manager. What is his, or her name?’ he asked.

‘The bar owner’s name is Tsong Se-Lim. He is out the back. Shall I get him for you?’ she asked ever so politely.

David nodded once. ‘Thank you,’ he said.

David watched a middle-aged gentleman enter the bar. Dressed in a pair of fawn Chinos and a black long-sleeved shirt, unbuttoned at the top, with no tie, the man had a look of concern on his face as he approached David.

‘Is there a problem, sir?’ he asked.

David returned a reassuring smile to the man. ‘Definitely not. Everything is great,’ he reassured. David extended his hand to the Manager, ‘My name is David Bower?’ he said.

The manager accepted David’s gesture and the men shook hands. His expression however was one of uncertainty. ‘Stephen Tsong,’ he said. ‘What can I do for you?’ he asked.

In the discussions that ensued, David informed the bar manager of the unfortunate reason as to why he was visiting Hong Kong and the circumstances that led him to this bar.

Mr. Tsong stood with his arms crossed. His face presented a dour expression while David spoke.

David discussed the CCTV camera at the front of his bar and how the review of relevant footage would be invaluable to him in understanding his son’s last movements.

David’s assessment of Mr. Tsong’s body language and what he assumed to be an austere personality, caused him concern. He started to wonder if he would have to play the cash trump card to get a rise out this guy.

Mr. Tsong placed at hand on David’s shoulder. His stern expression changed to one of compassion.

‘I am terribly sorry that your visit to Hong Kong is under such sad circumstances,’ the manager said. ‘You are welcome to look at the video from last Thursday, if it will help you,’ he said.

David followed Mr. Tsong to a medium sized office at the rear of the bar. In the corner of the room sat a single flat screen computer monitor on a desk.

A split screen displayed vision from each of the bar’s security cameras. David examined the images on the screen.

One camera covered the front door. One camera covered the rear door/lane, and the other camera looked down the length of the bar.

Mr. Tsong lowered himself into the chair at the desk and accessed the hard drive. He keyed in the date and time parameters for last Thursday. He then pushed himself away from the desk and stood.

He gestured for David to take a seat. ‘You know what you are looking for,’ he said. David nodded and slid into the driver’s seat.

The camera at the front of the building now occupied the full screen. David had no idea what time the boys arrived at the bar, so he started his review from 10.30pm, shuffling in fast-forward mode.

His review detected Miles and Bryce standing on the street outside the bar at 11.37pm. A short time later they entered the bar.

There appeared to be about six, or seven other people with them, none of whom was Mohawk man, or his two male friends.

David then switched to the internal bar camera, but he could not discern any of the patron’s faces, due to area away from the bar being poorly lit.

He then fast forwarded the front camera to around 2am; the time Bryce thought they left the bar.

At 1.46am he noticed Bryce and Miles exit the bar. They were followed by the same six or seven people. They all stopped out the front of the bar on the street, where they stood in a circle, having a discussion.

A short time later they walked off down Lan Kwai Fong street, away from the camera. before they were swallowed up into the hordes of drunken revelers that gathered and moved between the area’s venues.

David forgot to pause the footage when he asked Mr. Tsong if he could obtain a copy of the footage he just viewed. The footage didn’t provide much to him, other than a time line.

When David returned his attention to the monitor, his eyes widened. With the footage still running, he noticed Mohawk man exit the bar and stand on the street, looking in the direction of Miles and Bryce.

Two other males followed closely behind and the three stood talking and pointing down the street, in the direction of Miles and Bryce.

A short time later, all three men took off running in the same direction they were earlier pointing and disappeared into the crowd.

David wondered what time Mohawk man first arrived at the bar, so he rewound the footage to 11.30pm to see if he arrived before, or after the boys.

The review failed to capture him before the boys entered the bar, so he kept reviewing after 11.37pm.

At 11.42pm Mohawk man and his two friends arrived on the street and stood immediately outside the bar. Mohawk man beckoned to someone in the bar.

David watched with interest when Lee Sung exited the bar and had a conversation with Mohawk man and his friends.

On occasions, she whispered in Mohawk man’s ear. Lee Sung then gestured back into the bar, prompting all three men to focus their attention into La Vida Loca Bar.

Lee Sung returned into the bar after three minutes. After a further five minutes, Mohawk man and his friends entered the bar.

David rewound back to 11.37pm again to verify something that concerned him. His suspicions were immediately confirmed.

Lee Sung was with the group of six, or seven people that arrived at the bar with Bryce and Miles at 11.37pm. That was telling to David.

David gave up the seat so Mr. Tsong could copy the digital footage files onto David’s USB thumb drive.

Once Mr. Tsong completed the copying he kindly offered to buy David a refill of his drink, as a gesture of sympathy to toast the memory of David’s late son.

David could not refuse such a kind offer. He accepted and shared a drink with his gracious host.

Mr. Tsong’s kindness genuinely touched David, so he decided that he would prefer to pay for the footage, to give Mr. Tsong something for his troubles and generosity.

David removed his money clip and peeled off US$500, the same amount he paid ‘Fast Eddie’ from Downtown store and handed it towards Mr. Tsong.

‘You have been so kind to me, I want you to have this,’ David said. ‘For the footage.’

Mr. Tsong waved a hand at David’s offer. ‘No. No money. I give for you,’ he said.

It was evident Mr. Tsong was a man of integrity and principals. David counted off $200US. ‘Then at least let me give this lovely young girl a tip,’ David said. He held out the cash towards the young bar maid.

The bar maid’s surprised, but eager eyes flicked from the cash in David’s hand to Mr. Tsong, but she did not move, or accept the generous offer.

Mr. Tsong gave a discreet nod to the bar maid. The smile that lit up her face as she accepted the cash, with both hands, from David warmed his heart.

After a shake of Mr. Tsong’s hand, David left La Vida Loca en-route back to his hotel room.

He couldn’t help but reflect on how different the two men were who provided him with copies of their CCTV footage. There was the kind hearted Mr. Tsong from La Vida Loca, and then there was ‘Fast Eddie’, from the Downtown store. It takes all kinds, he thought.