‘Geez, you’re cold-blooded.’
‘I wish you people would stop saying that.’
The next morning I sat in the front of the car alongside Leo, who drove me and my stuff up to the Peak in Mr Chen’s monstrous black Mercedes.
‘How long have you worked for Mr Chen?’ I said, making conversation.
‘About six years,’ Leo said, ‘but I worked for Mrs Chen before that.’
‘You always been a bodyguard?’
He glanced at me, then turned back to the road. ‘Done some other things.’
‘Like what?’
He sighed. Then he obviously decided to tell me. ‘In the Navy for a while. Bouncer for a while, but that was really tough, I didn’t like it. Sorta fell into the bodyguard business by accident.’
‘That was nice, what Mr Chen did for Louise. He didn’t need to pay her out for the rest of the year like that.’
‘It was the least we could do, hiring you and having you move out so quickly.’
‘We? You and Mr Chen?’
He glanced away from the road to me. Then grinned as he looked back at the road. ‘Absolutely not.’
I stared incredulously at him and his grin widened.
‘Absolutely not,’ he emphasised, without looking away from the road. ‘Not Mr Chen.’ He glanced at me again, then turned back to the road. ‘Not Mr Chen.’
‘Okay, okay.’ All right, not Mr Chen.
He was still grinning as he shook his head. He deliberately changed the subject. ‘How long have you been an English teacher?’
‘About four years. I just sorta fell into it when I arrived in Hong Kong,’ I said, intentionally echoing him. ‘Very lucrative, easy work, hours aren’t very long.’
He nodded. ‘Seems to be the way with most people here. Just find themselves doing something after they arrive. Where you from originally?’
‘Australia.’
‘Oh. I hear it’s nice there.’
‘Nice does not begin to describe it,’ I said with feeling. ‘You have no idea. You’ve obviously never been there.’
‘Nope.’
‘What does Mr Chen do for a living?’
Leo watched the road silently.
‘Leo, what does Mr Chen do for a living?’
He grinned at the road. ‘You’ll have to ask him that. I’m just the driver.’
‘Yeah, and I’m the Queen of Sheba.’
The minute I had Mr Chen pinned down I would ask him. I spent a few quiet moments enjoying the delightful concept of having Mr John Chen pinned down. And then I pulled myself together. Keep it professional, Emma.
Leo froze and his eyes glazed over. He continued to drive, but appeared not to be paying any attention to the road.
‘Are you okay, Leo?’
He raised one hand to stop me, still with his eyes unfocused. Then he snapped back and quickly poked the hands-free earpiece for his mobile phone into his ear.
The phone rang and he pressed the button and spoke without hesitation. ‘We’ll be coming into the tunnel very soon, we’re in Kowloon City. I think it’ll be about another thirty, forty minutes, then you can have it, sir. Is that all right? Should I hurry?’
He nodded, listening, then said ‘Sir,’ and hung up.
‘Mr Chen wants the car?’ I said.
Leo glanced at me. ‘Yes. But he’ll wait, no great rush.’
‘So he only has one car?’
‘Yeah, we only need one. There’s only four of us: him, me, Simone and Monica. Most of his staff make their own way. I drive Simone out for her lessons and I take Monica to the market.’ He glanced away from the road and became more serious. ‘After you’ve moved your stuff up there, we’ll go through Simone’s routine. She has lessons outside, and quite a few at home as well, and you’ll be in charge of making sure she gets to them on time.’
‘You’ll need to show me where everything is, as well,’ I said. ‘And make sure you give me a set of keys.’
Leo nodded. ‘Sure. Forgot about that. Tell me if I miss anything, okay?’
‘Okay, Leo.’
Mr Chen’s apartment building was very high on the Peak, much higher than the Peak Tower. When Leo reached the gates at the end of the overgrown drive they swung open and the security guards waved him in.
The building was eleven floors, with two enormous flats to a floor. It wasn’t new, and pollution had turned the light brown tiles dingy grey with patches of mould from the damp. Hong Kong’s clouds come down very low sometimes, swathing the Peak in moisture that makes everything dripping wet both summer and winter.
The view from the building was spectacular. One side overlooked Hong Kong Harbour, which was packed with highrises on both the Hong Kong Island and Kowloon sides. The other side of the building faced south, with a view over the crammed boats in Aberdeen Typhoon Shelter to the ocean stretching beyond.
An open car park surrounded the entrance lobby on the ground floor. Parked cars covered most of the land around the building. Every second one was a huge Mercedes; there were a couple of monstrous Rolls-Royce and a few exotic, extremely expensive European sports cars.
Leo parked the car, and helped me carry my boxes up in the lift to Mr Chen’s apartment.
‘How many square feet is this apartment, anyway?’ I said when we reached the front door. ‘Big enough.’
The front door was a standard wooden one, but as usual in Hong Kong it had a large steel gate in front of it. Leo entered the code for the security gate into the pad next to the wall and opened it outwards. He unlocked the deadbolt on the wooden door and held it open for me.
We kicked off our shoes at the entrance, then Leo led me down the main hall and turned right. He passed the first door and opened the second on the left. ‘This is your room.’
I went in and stopped dead. It wasn’t a room, it was a suite. The huge rectangular space had been divided in two: the first part was a living room with a comfortable leather couch, a small television and a desk with a computer. Further in, the bedroom had a trim modern double bed and a door on each side.
Leo lowered the box he was carrying. He opened one of the doors. ‘This connects with Simone’s room.’ He closed the door and went to the other one. ‘Your bathroom.’
‘I get my own bathroom?’
‘Yep. Anything you need, tell me.’
I looked around. ‘This is terrific. I wasn’t expecting anything as good as this.’ The large picture window overlooked Hong Kong Harbour and the highrises of Kowloon beyond. ‘What a view.’
‘Let me show you around,’ Leo said, ‘and then we’ll get the rest of the boxes.’
‘Thanks.’
He took me out to the hallway, which ran the full width of the apartment, and pointed to the doors on the same side as my room. ‘Mr Chen’s bedroom. Mine. Simone’s. You.’
I nodded.
‘All of ours are the same size; Mr Chen’s is slightly larger,’ he said. He opened the door opposite. ‘This is the music room.’ The room had a piano, a table holding a Chinese musical instrument called a guzheng, which was something like a zither, and a black electric guitar in one corner. ‘Next to the music room, the TV room. The surround sound is really good. You can use it if nobody else is.’
He stopped at the door next to my bedroom and hesitated.
‘What’s in there?’ I said.
‘You might as well know, you’ll be living here. Here goes.’ He opened the door.
At first I thought it was a dance studio. Soft white mats completely covered the floor. One wall was mirrors from the floor to the ceiling.
And then I saw the other wall. A fearsome array of martial arts weapons sat on racks on the floor and hung off hooks on the wall. Swords, staves, chucks, knives, axes, everything.
‘Holy shit,’ I said softly.
Leo crossed his arms in front of his chest. ‘Use language like that in front of Mr Chen and you’ll be out the door before you know it.’