Sean Slater - The survivor

Numerology of Triad Hierarchy

426 — Red Pole. Brigade Enforcer.

415 — Pak Tsz Sin. White Paper Fan. Senior advisor.

Knowledge of Triad history.

438 — Sheung Fa. Canada Liaison Officer.

483 — Fu Chan Shu. Deputy Leader.

489 — Shan Chu. King Daddy. Dragon Head.

As Striker read the list and made notes in his notebook, Grace spoke. ‘You say this guy had a number 13 tattooed on his body. Where was it?’

‘Chest. Left side.’

Grace nodded. ‘The number 13 covers the heart because it’s out of respect for the thirteen monks.’

Now Striker felt completely lost. ‘What monks?’

‘The Shao Lin monks, in the Fujian Province. We’re talking four hundred years ago, but it does show you who — and what — you’re dealing with here. The Triads have alliances all across the seas: in the Philippines, Hong Kong, Macau, Cambodia, Viet Nam — the list is as long as there are places. And they will never go away.’

Striker thought this over for a moment. Then: ‘What I still don’t get is how a group of teenage kids from Saint Patrick’s High School got tangled up with a global gang.’

Grace agreed. ‘I really see no connection, Detective. The Triads are a very secretive group. They would never be involved in something like this.’

‘That’s the problem,’ Striker said. ‘They are.’

Que Wong’s friend, better known as Mr Creepy to Courtney and Raine, had his own pad in the 1800 block of East Georgia Street — a bad part of town but perfect for the girls as it was only four blocks away from Commercial Drive and Venables Street, the starting point for the Parade of Lost Souls party.

The building was old, even for Commercial Drive, made up of cracked grey concrete and filthy windows. Out front, a small grassy area was blocked off by a rusted iron fence. Inside it was a teeter-totter with a swing set, neither of which looked used.

Courtney reached the front entrance. Dressed in nothing but her Little Red Riding Hood costume, she felt exposed, a step away from being naked, and she suddenly realised how much of her ass the costume revealed. It was too much. Hadn’t seemed like this in the change room. And she was cold, wished she’d brought a jacket or something.

From somewhere above, maybe on the third floor, she could hear a baby crying and a couple arguing. The man’s voice was slurred and distorted. Trying to ignore the clatter, she pressed the building buzzer and found it broken. She pushed on the front door and it opened anyway.

Once inside, a musty smell hit her; it seemed to come from the worn-out brown carpets. The building interior was cold and dark. Mr Creepy’s apartment was on the sixth floor. One look at the small rickety booth of an elevator convinced Courtney to take the stairs, which were equally narrow and confining. When she reached the sixth floor, she stepped into the hallway and heard the loud ruckus of a party going on. As she walked down the hall and around the corner, she realised it was coming from Mr Creepy’s place.

The front door was wide open, and people were spilling out into the halls. The air was heavy with cigarette and pot smoke. It made Courtney hesitate, unsure.

But then Raine poked her head out, spotted Courtney and let out a squeal. ‘Oh my GOD — you look so hot in that costume.’

Courtney looked down at herself, felt suddenly self-conscious. Her cheeks blushed and her throat went dry. She looked back up at Raine, saw her huge boobs busting out of her nurse’s costume, and knew she could never compete with that.

‘You look great, too,’ she said. ‘Every guy at the party’s gonna wanna be with you.’

Raine laughed, pulled her inside where the music was louder. Something heavy, pounding. Bad-ass Rap. ‘I’ll get you a cooler — strawberry or peach?’

‘Peach,’ Courtney said, and looked around.

The crowd was a blend of weirdos and strangers. Out on the sundeck was a handful of Asian guys, all with tinted blond hair and leather and red gangster hoodies. They were smoking up some pot. In the kitchen was another group of guys and girls, mixed races, most of them looking older than her and Raine. A lot older. Some of them wore torn-up jeans and black jackets and had a biker look to them. They were drinking hard stuff. Jack Daniel’s. Rum. Vodka. In the far corner, a group of Asian girls were hanging out in a closed-off circle, a few of them constantly looking over their shoulders at her and Raine. They looked mean and tough. It gave Courtney an awkward feeling, and she covered herself up by folding her arms across her chest, then moved in behind the bend of the hall to get out of their line of sight.

‘We’re the only ones wearing costumes,’ she suddenly noticed.

Raine shrugged. ‘So? We’re hot.’

‘Who are all these people?’

Raine opened the fridge door, looked around. ‘I dunno, they just showed up.’

‘Showed up?’

Raine handed her a peach cooler. ‘Yeah. They’re friends of Mr Creepy. Said the party was planned for weeks. Said that everyone knew. They just walked right in like they owned the place. What was I gonna do, not let them in? I just got the ice outta his fridge and loaded up the sink. Next thing I know it was filled with booze. Everyone’s bringing something, and I’ve just been helping myself.’

Courtney didn’t drink her cooler right away. ‘Maybe you shouldn’t have let them in.’

Raine gave her an impatient look. ‘You’re not gonna go all nerdy on me again, are you?’

‘No. Of course not.’

‘Good. ’Cause I just got off the phone with Bobby Ryan and he’s already on his way over.’

Courtney felt her insides explode with butterflies. ‘Now? He’s coming now?’

‘Actually, that was over a half hour ago. He should be here any minute.’

‘Oh GOD.’ Courtney’s fingers suddenly felt clumsy on the bottle. She leaned against the wall, looked down at herself and started fussing with her costume.

Raine grabbed her hand, stopped her from playing with the dress. ‘You look hot, Court. Super hot. So chill.’

‘You think?’

‘They do,’ she said with a laugh, and pointed at a group of guys hanging out in the den where the Vancouver Canucks were battling the Washington Capitals on the big screen. That Russian superstar guy was centrescreen.

Courtney let her eyes fall from the game to the group of guys.

A few of them — all way too old, like, ten years too old for her — had turned around from the game and were staring at her and Raine. The nearest one, a long-haired white guy with a few days’ growth on his face, had on a black sleeveless T-shirt that showed off his heavily muscled arms, both of which were covered with tattoos. She met his stare, hoping he would look away. When he didn’t — and offered her a dirty grin — she pretended not to see and looked down from him.

‘They’re gross.’

Raine laughed. ‘You just need to chill, Court.’ She grabbed the bottle of peach cooler in Courtney’s hand and lifted it to her friend’s mouth.

Courtney took a long gulp, hiccuped, and laughed.

‘Better?’ Raine asked.

‘I dunno. Maybe. A little.’

‘Good,’ she said. ‘Because Bobby just walked through the door.’

Courtney didn’t reply. She froze to the spot, couldn’t move. A part of her wanted to turn around and face Bobby boldly, but she couldn’t. Another part of her wanted to avoid him and run away from the party, but she couldn’t do that either. So instead she just stood there like a statue and drank down her entire cooler. When it was done Raine handed her another one, and she drank that, too.

It was too much, she knew. Too much for a girl who never drank.