Anthony Horowitz - Necropolis

The man waited until they had gone. “My name is Han Shantung,” he announced.

“I’m Richard Cole.” Richard introduced himself, then the boys. He had already decided he was going to use the names that were on their passports. “This is Martin Hopkins. And Nicholas Helsey.”

“I would have said that this was Matthew Freeman and Jamie Tyler,” Shan-tung muttered. “And I would add that it is discourteous to lie to a man in his own home – but I will overlook it as I can understand that you are nervous. Let me assure you, Mr Cole. I know everything about all three of you. More, in fact, than you perhaps know about yourselves. Otherwise you would not be here.”

“And we know nothing about you,” Richard replied. “That’s why we have to be careful.”

“Very wise. Well, it will be my pleasure to enlighten you. But first we should eat.”

As if on cue, the two women returned, carrying plates of food. Silently, they laid out a Chinese dinner. It was a world apart from the sweet and sour, deep-fried grease balls that Matt had once purchased at his local takeaway in Ipswich. The dinner came in about a dozen china bowls – fish, meat, rice, noodles – and it had obviously been cooked by a world-class chef. Matt was glad to see that he had been provided with a spoon and fork. Han Shan-tung ate with chopsticks.

“I must apologize to you,” he began. There was no small talk. He didn’t ask them about their journey or what they thought of their rooms. “Urgent business took me to America. It was badly timed because it delayed your arrival here. And I’m afraid I have bad news. I had hoped that the object of your journey would have been sitting here with us tonight. I am referring to the girl, Lin Mo.” He continued quickly, before Richard could interrupt. “You call her Scarlett Adams. But I refer to her by the name she was given before she was adopted and taken to the West.”

“How do you know about Scarlett?” Richard asked.

Shan-tung leaned forward and plucked a prawn off one of the dishes. Despite his large hands, he used the chopsticks very delicately, like a scientist handling a specimen. “I know a great deal about the girl,” he replied. “The fact of the matter is that she was with my agents in Hong Kong only yesterday. I have spent a great deal of time and money – not to mention human life – trying to remove her from the city.”

Matt played back what Shan-tung had just said and realized that it confirmed exactly what he had thought. “The Old Ones are in Hong Kong,” he said.

“The Old Ones have taken over Hong Kong,” Shan-tung replied. “They control almost every aspect of the city. From the government and the police to the street cleaners. I do not know how many people they have killed, but the number must run into thousands. My people have been fighting them on your behalf. We are the only remaining resistance.”

“Who are your people?” Richard asked.

Shan-tung sighed. “It is unnecessary to keep asking me these things. I am about to tell you anyway.”

“I’m sorry.” Richard realized his error. “I suppose it’s a habit. I used to be a journalist.”

“I do not like journalists. It is nothing personal – but they have caused me trouble in the past. I suggest you continue eating. I will tell you everything you need to know.”

Han Shan-tung had barely eaten anything. But he laid down his chopsticks and began to speak.

“I have the very considerable honour to be a member of an organization called the Pah Lien. This translates as the White Lotus Society. You might have remarked upon a clue that I sent you at the airport. The man who met you was carrying a bunch of lilies. The lily is part of the lotus family. My society is a very old one. It was founded in the fourth century to resist the foreign invaders known as the Mongols who then ruled over China. The aim of White Lotus remained the same over the next four centuries. It was to help the Chinese people fight against tyranny and oppression.

“But over the years, something very interesting happened. The White Lotus Society changed. It will be difficult for you to understand the nature of this change, so let me explain it to you by referring to a character from your own history. You will, I am sure, know Robin Hood. He stole from the rich and gave to the poor. He was a hero to the peasants in Sherwood Forest. But to the authorities, he was an outlaw, a criminal. They would have hanged him if they could.

“In the early days, the White Lotus Society operated in much the same way. Indeed, it might interest you to know that the society had a motto: Ta fu – chih p’in. This translates as ‘strike the rich and help the poor’. But here was the crucial difference. As the years passed, White Lotus found that it was enjoying and benefiting from the criminal nature of its activities. It was also remarkably successful in the world of organized crime. It continued to steal from the rich but, as its members became richer themselves, it found itself giving rather less to the poor. It also changed its name. It became known as the Three United Society. There was a reason for this. White Lotus believed that the world was made up of three different parts: heaven, earth and mankind. Its members therefore had a triangle tattooed onto their body. The triangle also appeared on their flags. And in the end, they became known simply as the Triads.”

There was a long silence. Matt had heard of the Triads, the criminal gangs that were active all over Asia. They were drug dealers. They were involved in people smuggling, prostitution, extortion and murder. They would torture or kill anyone who got in their way. They were as brutal as they were powerful. And this man was calmly admitting that he was one of them! He glanced at Jamie. The American boy was listening politely. He didn’t seem shocked by what he had just heard. Richard, on the other hand, was staring open-mouthed.

“I can see that you are dismayed,” Shan-tung remarked. “And before you ask me one of your inane questions, Mr Cole, I will answer you. Yes. I am a criminal. More than that, I am what is known as Shan Chu, the Master of the Mountain. This means that I am the supreme leader of my own Triad. I cannot tell you how many people I have murdered to get to where I am today, but at a conservative guess I would say about twenty-five. I do know that I am wanted in exactly nine countries, including the United Kingdom and the United States – and I would have been arrested a long time ago if I hadn’t paid the right people a great deal of money to leave me alone.

“You are now wondering if you should be sitting at my table, eating my food. You are asking yourself why I should wish to help you in your struggle against the Old Ones. You are thinking, perhaps, that it would be more natural for me to be on their side. But you would be wrong.

“Until very recently, I controlled all crime in Hong Kong. I have, for example, heroin laboratories in Kowloon and the New Territories. I have illegal casinos and betting shops throughout the island. Immigrants from China were paying $5,000 a time for me to help them cross the border illegally. The arrival of the Old Ones has changed everything. They have no interest in profit. They do not want to do business. They want only to destroy everything around them – and that includes the Triads. They are as much my enemy as anyone’s, the only difference being that I have the means to fight back. And that is what I have been doing. There is a certain irony, don’t you think? I am undoubtedly a bad man. But a greater evil has come my way and now I am forced to do good.

“And so I have used all my resources within Hong Kong to set up a resistance. I have buildings. I have people. I have weapons… not that they are of much use against creatures that can form themselves out of flies. Above all, I have determination. I will not be defeated by the Old Ones. They can destroy the world. But they will not destroy me.”