Hong Kong Young Writers Anthologies Fiction 4567 | Page 4

“You have connections.” Edward pointed to a piece of paper with the name Du Yuesheng scribbled on it.
“We suggest that you make use of those connections to help us with the Commies. They are meeting on the twelfth
of April, you might want to spread the word if you don’t want to spend your life rotten in a rusty cell.”
Richard’s fists tightened.
“You want me to get Du Yusheng, head of the gangsters to what …? Attack the communists? Are you out of your
mind? That’s what you are asking me? To deal with potentially the most dangerous guy in Shanghai, so he can attack the
communists? Maybe I am a criminal but I will not risk my life as well as be the reason for an attack on other men.”
By now he was standing up pounding his fists on the table. The calm expressions of the suited men fueling his anger
more and more.
“It’s either that or you spend the entirety of your life rotting in a cell living on baked beans on soggy toast.”
Richard raked his hands through his hair; he pressed his temples until they turned bright pink. He stood like that for
a few minutes before sitting back down.
“I’ll do it. Bloody hell, I’ll do it.”
~
The next few days were a living hell for Richard. Trying to organise a meeting with Du Yuesheng without any “trade” was
not an easy task.
It was on a warm Shanghai night, the streets singing gentle jazz. Richard entered the club: sequined dresses, smoke and
alcohol. Normally this would be one of Richard’s favourite sights but that night he dreaded it. He headed deeper and deeper
into the club until three small monkey heads caught his eye, they were on a blue robe this time, on a man sitting in a dark
musty corner of the club. Du Yuesheng. Richard approached him, his heart beating out of his chest.
“Hello, Mr Yuesheng.”
His usual sense of charm was missing.
“I have some news for you if you are willing to listen.”
Du tensed for a moment, his eyes sparkled, if it wasn’t for the fear blinding Richard, it would be obvious he
wanted to know.
“What about?”
“The communists. They want to close down the bars and clubs. They know what goes on down here: the women,
the drugs, foreigners dealing and receiving. They don’t like it. They claim it’s not the communist way. So they plan to shut
down all …,” he grasped for words, “social facilities.”
Du Yuesheng’s remained calm, worrying Richard. He took a puff from his cigar and asked, “From whom have you
heard this information?”
It seemed to Richard as if the room had been set on fire. He was sweating uncontrollably, breathing heavily.
“A lady I have been seeing. I shall not mention her name as she is married. But her husband works for the Consulate,
a Mr Williams, I believe. She told me about the communists, she says her husband won’t stop talking about the matter.”
Richard gulped, hoping his lie was convincing enough, though he stopped himself from smirking when he mentioned
Mr. William’s wife. His nerves killing him, the silence letting him think of everything that could go wrong. Du YueSheng
said nothing, he put the tips of his long fingers together. His sapphire blue ring matched his silky blue robe.
“They’re meeting on the twelfth of April at the local hall down the street,” Richard continued, eager to get the
information out. “Mr Yuesheng, they know about your business; by closing down all the bars all the pubs your business will
drown. No more dealings, no more women, no more alcohol. The communists, they hate it all, they will do everything they
can to shut it all down, everything.”
“I understand.” Du Yuesheng’s voice was emotionless. “April twelfth, you say?”
“Yessir.” Richard’s voice was trembling.