The St. James Inquiry

By Stewart Martin

This story begins in an orphanage in Hong Kong where children are missing and never heard from again. Many years after their disappearance was no longer newsworthy and all but forgotten, a private detective was hired to look into the sale of the orphanage’s property to a wealthy builder. After briefly scanning microfilmed news clippings about the sale, the price appeared to be below the market at the time, considering the prime location and acreage. Otherwise it was quite mundane at best.

The detective continued to scroll back to older news items in the orphanage’s file and stumbled upon a number of articles about missing children. This piqued his interest and he decided to look into two reported cases that eventually led him from Hong Kong to mainland China and onto Europe. The expenses would be out of pocket but that did not stop him from investigating a trail that wound around the globe involving powerful criminals ready and able to do anything to stop his prying into their activities. What detective James Harvey, a former police Inspector uncovered, was horrifying and unexpected.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Stewart Martin
• Release date: May 20, 2017
• ISBN: 9781370427505

Stewart Martin

I am a university graduate with a major in political science (BBA). I was brought up in New York and Florida and have been living in Orient for the last 25 years. I have three children from a previous marriage, a daughter and two sons. I have a son now attending university here in the orient. I have been writing since I was 15 and learning something new and exciting each and every day. I have five fiction stories that I have written between 2009 and 2017. I believe my stories are interesting and keeping my fingers crossed that others will find them to their liking. Any comments or suggestions are always appreciated. My thanks to SmashWords and to all readers.

Book preview

Chapter 1

On a warm summer day in June 2004, I stood outside the property’s locked gates high on a hillside, graced by a magnificent view overlooking the Tolo Harbor body of water, itself a picture of tranquility, and set apart from the everyday hustle and bustle of Hong Kong. This was the original location of the St. James’s Orphanage until 1993.

I had been shown an old photo album which had given me the overall physical layout of the orphanage. It had a two storied administration building almost hidden from the roadway while the rest of the facilities were set back further up the hillside. A large portion of its other buildings consisted of thirteen separate structures referred to as homes, partially hidden by many tall shady trees and flowers. This was the only home that one hundred and sixty homeless children aged from six to twenty-one would most likely remember and a staff usually comprised of twenty-four dedicated workers. Facing south in the center of the hilly property was a huge grove of fruit bearing banana trees.

A further one hundred and sixty younger preschool children from infancy to age six were housed in an old, airy, huge, colonial building even more hidden among older, larger trees and surrounded by well cared for gardens and children’s playgrounds.

The staff for the younger children was larger, easily over thirty people primarily made up of Anglican Episcopalian Sisters, not only servicing these children as a matter of religious belief but from inner strength and love for other humans and with the assistance of additional hired social workers. The daily routine for the staff caring for its youngest citizens was far from easy requiring great patience and willingness to work hard every minute of every day.

This Orphanage had been founded in Hong Kong in 1933 by Po Man So, an Officer of the Anglican Church, clearly an innovator and pioneer in the social-service field. The location chosen was off Tin Ma Road in Tai Po, which is part of the New Territories where they managed to continue until 1993, when they had decided to or were forced to abandon this site and then became scattered to many different sub-locations throughout Hong Kong.

In the beginning, two thirds of the land had been purchased by the Anglican Church, on behalf of the Orphanage, while the last third had been donated to the Orphanage by a wealthy landowner who had passed away.

Currently, their main office is now in Wan Chai, while the youngest kids are now lodged in Sha Tim and the older ones at a number of other sites. Since moving to other locations in 1993, the now decentralized organization had to curtail some services and naturally had to raise additional funds for its daily expenses. The orphanage is the largest facility of its kind in Hong Kong and is completely non-government run, although at times (may have been partially supported by the government).

The orphanage has been taking care of young unwanted or parentless children beginning from birth through their twenty-first birthday for almost seventy years and has continued to provide the Hong Kong community with its many years of excellent services.

At its original site on Tin Ma Road, each building became a home to fourteen to sixteen children aged from six to twenty-one broken down by gender and then by separating the primary one to six students from the secondary school students and those up to the age of twenty-one. Each house had its own designated social worker that slept overnight at least twenty nights per month. They were lovingly known to the children as mother or brother and were responsible for teaching the children how to take care of themselves.

The daily chores were divided up among all the children in each house and included how to keep their home clean, how to cook, how to do their own laundry and to maintain high standard of personal hygiene. The students all attended nearby local schools and were bussed there directly from the orphanage.

Many of its former residents have become professional business people and leaders in the local community.

I reluctantly accepted a minimum retainer, paid by two former orphans who had been brought up at St. James, to investigate exactly why the orphanage had apparently been forced, according to them, to surrender their property to a rich land developer named Foo Yau.

I checked with a former police colleague and close friend of mine, Inspector Wong, Au Tai, nicknamed Cat, to see if he had any insight into the sale or any particular comments about it. The only thing he mentioned was Foo Yau, when loosely translated into English means rich swimmer or liberally translated as swimming in wealth.

I still hadn’t made up my mind if this was going to be interesting or really worth my time and effort. I had agreed to take a quick look at whatever records I was able to turn up mainly because of the two orphan’s persistence and the simple fact I had a lot of time on my hands at the moment. If anything unusual appeared, I would inform them to determine what direction I should focus on and if I should continue onward. I seemed to recall, when the sale had occurred back in 1993, it only received a minor mention in the newspapers. Unless someone had brought it to my attention, I must admit it wasn’t anything particularly questionable about it or in the back of my mind.

According to the two orphans it should have been examined in greater detail. The orphans had explained that their lives were turned upside down when the orphanage had suddenly relocated, as it no longer seemed like a home to them. Their last few years before they became twenty-one and left the orphanage had become very complicated, as moving also required them to change schools and to make new friends.

Neither orphan had any concrete proof of any wrongdoing, just a feeling something had happened that wasn’t quite right, as the sale was sudden and details of the transaction were kept secret, under the table. Perhaps their suspicions had some merit, but it was unlikely. Perhaps they were forced to move by Foo Yau the land developer, either legally or illegally and perhaps someone within the church or within the government was paid to push the deal through. If this turned out to be the case, it wouldn’t have been the first time.

On the other hand, it may have been a perfectly above board transaction, just not well documented publicly. In any event, I began by pulling up all the available newspaper files related to the orphanage and about its parent organization the Anglican Church.

All that is currently left on the Orphanage’s original site are three large trees that clearly weren’t in the way of the building’s construction crew. Some of the banana trees are still standing and still producing fruit. In place of the orphanage’s buildings are twelve towers each with twelve floors of flats and approximately thirty-five two-story town houses. Underground parking facilities are also part of the gated complex. The tenants have their own clubhouse and an Olympic sized swimming pool. It’s private, it’s beautiful, it’s well guarded by a team of security personnel and it’s expensive, only for a wealthy buyer. The complex was completed in 1997.

Chapter 2

When I had retired from the Hong Kong police department just over three years ago, I opened my own private detective agency, a one man show, really not expecting too much in the way of business.

During the last few years before I had retired, I had been a Chief Inspector in the detective division operating out of the main branch in Central. After twenty-two years of dealing with a wide assortment of thieves, murderers, drug related cases, almost every kind of fraud you might possibly imagine and various and sundry other crimes committed by a variety of citizens, it was a part of me, an ingrained part. I loved the chase and the conclusion, if the results were positive.

My tiny office located just outside and to the west of Central in a much more affordable rental zone called Sheung Wan, was immediately inundated by a number of clients standing in line for my services. I had been highly recommended by former police colleagues, crime reporters and other members of the Hong Kong government, I had gotten to know over the years. My reputation was better than I had thought it was. I wasn’t a rich guy, but had saved enough, even made a wise investment or two and didn’t need any more then my retirement allotment to enjoy life. I had been able to pick and choose my clients’ right from the beginning.

I had just finished a major fraud case committed against the Hong Kong government by a former district leader. This case had received a lot of publicity that was especially favorable, since I was able to bring the case to a swift conclusion. The accused party had agreed to repay the government quite a tidy sum of money and was still on trial for a probable jail term of some sort. If he returned enough money, he might only receive a slap on the wrist, rather than serving time in prison.

My fee was tied to a percentage of the recovered funds that had turned out to be substantial and I was looking forward to a long vacation in Thailand or in some other exotic spot. I hadn’t taken on any new cases to allow for at least a month or so away from the excitement of Hong Kong. I thought I could wrap up the orphan’s questions about the sale, in a few days at the most, but like all things in life, the unexpected occurs.

My name is James Harvey. I still have a full head of brown hair, just about 5’11", a reasonably fit body with no fat, I’m forty-eight, but at times look and feel younger. I’m originally from New York City, having immigrated to Hong Kong just over twenty-two years ago when hired by the Hong Kong Police Department right out of John Jay College in New York, with a degree in Criminology, and don’t intend to leave.

At times, Hong Kong lacked a certain amount of entertainment facilities, had pollution problems, but the city was a safe place to live and the people interesting and industrious. No one wasted any time here, as everything was done on the run. I appreciated the action, but occasionally yearned for peace and quiet.

My entire career was spent attempting to solve crimes, attempting to make this city I have grown to love a little bit better place to live. During my last few years on the force I had luckily been involved in two high profile investigations that had resulted in the sentencing of several top triad members.

Triads are Hong Kong’s own special name for mobs or gangs, not unlike the Italian Mafia or other such organizations. These cases had provided me with the opportunity to meet a lot of people a Westerner might not have normally met and to become reasonably well known to many people in the public I had never met. One thing was certain, I had an enormous amount of contacts and they proved invaluable when deciding to open my own agency.

At first, I was a bit burnt out and couldn’t wait to get away from the world of crime and punishment, but shortly thereafter didn’t know what to do with myself. Several friends and in particular, my best pal, nicknamed Cat, suggested opening my own detective agency. Why not give it a go, I certainly knew what to do, where to look and was a true professional. My background enabled me to be fully licensed without any of the usual fuss and bother. Everything kind of fell in place and it was where I belonged and what was missing in my life.

The best part of being a private detective is the freedom to do what you want when you want to do it. Your time is your own and no one tells you what to do. So far it has turned out to be much better than I thought it would be. It’s a great life. It’s what I always thought I would end up doing. Not many people get a chance to live their dreams. I would probably be forced to hire a secretary and bring in an associate or two, but so far had resisted doing so.

I live in a small seven hundred foot square flat in Junk Bay and rarely have any visitors, as I did most of my work in my office, and only when I absolutely had to, brought any work home. I’m a somewhat of a fatalist, as the day I first looked at my flat I could see its potential, once it was fixed up.

The Chinese gentleman who owned the place happened to be there at the same time, we immediately got along well and when I asked the price he told me not too much and not too little. Tell me what you are willing to pay. I did and he thought it over for a few minutes and simply said, ‘it’s yours.’

I’ve never had a lease or had to put up any deposit, on or about the first of each month I transferred the agreed to rent to his account at Hong Kong and Shanghai Bank. Fortunately, my rent included government rates and maintenance and it was indeed a bargain, well below the price for the same flat even in the same building. Six months after I moved in one of my neighbors told me that my landlord had at least twenty other apartments in the area and was very rich.

It turned out I was the only non-Chinese living in my building and one of the few foreigners living in the neighborhood. I got along well with my neighbors always saying hello or holding a door open for old ladies or moms with their kids. Being polite is an old habit and the Chinese appeared to approve of my living amongst them.

My flat was furnished with a hodgepodge mixture of Chinese antiques and Italian furniture I found attending many ex-pat sales that occurred when ex-patriots from the USA, various locations throughout Europe and Australia left Hong Kong to return to their homelands and during frequent quick weekend trips to Mainland China. Somehow the place looked professionally put together, but it just happened accidentally.

Over the years I had gathered a large collection of books on criminology and kept on adding new shelves, as I never seemed to have enough space for new books.

I appreciated Oriental art, collecting things I liked and several of these had become worth considerably more than when I first purchased them.

I had attained my permanent Hong Kong identity card, being accepted as a permanent resident after living here for seven years.

I’m divorced from a former New York girl and see myself as an occasional heterosexual womanizer. Praise the Lord, as Hong Kong has many beautiful Oriental women and a constant flow of Western female tourists to satisfy any man’s desires, although for the most part I avoided Western women.

Lately, I’ve gotten quite particular about whom I spent my free time with, even if a babe was a knockout, she had to have a reasonable education to at least hold a conversation with me and it would be a great plus if we had something in common. This eliminated a vast majority of feminine specimens known to me. At this moment, I wasn’t especially horny, willing to wait until someone unique came along. My resolve in this area wasn’t set in cement, as I was likely to change my mind in the blink of an eye or when the next pretty woman smiled at me.

Chapter 3

Trying to familiarize myself about life at the St. James Orphanage, I spent one morning at the South China Morning Post attempting to do a bit of research. While scanning through microfilms of old newspaper files of the South China Morning Post, searching for background material that might lead up to the need to sell their former site, I came across a startling article, then a whole panacea of articles relating to the same story. I read all of them thoroughly. The gist of what was reported is as follows.

On a typical rainy spring morning, at 6 a.m., April 21, 1975, the alarm clocks were ringing in all thirteen houses and in the old colonial mansion to get everyone up for their breakfast and then off to school. At 6:15 a.m., an alarm sounded throughout the entire Orphanage. In house number seven, four orphans weren’t in their beds, not anywhere in the house and an immediate search began covering all the other buildings and the grounds. No one saw them, no one heard them leave and no one was found. They disappeared, swallowed up in a sea of humanity.

The Orphanage Superintendent, a Mr. William Lam, Kai Chou, called the police in Tai Po to report the missing children. The police had experts from headquarters join in the search, dogs were brought in, but still no clues, no evidence presented that anything had gone wrong, just that four children aged between seven and ten had vanished. Finally, all police departments in neighboring Asian countries were also sent the details along with their most recent photographs. All four children were well liked by most of the other children.

Over one hundred volunteers from town had joined the search, but nothing turned up. All of the other children and all of the staff were interviewed thoroughly, but the results yielded next to nothing. Two of the children had constantly been in trouble, but nothing serious, just wise guy remarks in school or wouldn’t do their share of the household chores.

The orphanage, acting on behalf of the Anglican Church, offered a sizable reward to anyone with information leading to where the children were or to what happened to them.

The police concluded the children had run away from the Orphanage and over time, their memory faded away, replaced by new arrivals, taking their space, filling their beds, eating their meals, as if they had never existed.

Every month for six months, the local newspapers ran pictures of the children, hoping someone would provide them with information, but no one came forward with anything worthwhile. The few calls that were received either came from crackpots or from people looking for a reward, none of which ever led to anything. Everyone assumed they had possibly gone to a distant relative but no one ever heard from them.

None of them ever returned and security was tightened up at the Orphanage with high wire fences installed and a guard placed at the entrance gate twenty-four hours every day. Any visitors had to sign in and sign out and show proof of their identity.

After six months, the missing children became yesterday’s news, then one or two articles appeared once a year on the anniversary of their disappearance and after three years totally forgotten. These kids had no one looking for them.

Employees had come and gone, roommates and classmates went on to other destinations and being without mothers and fathers didn’t help to kindle any flame of hope to discover what had happened.

One small article appeared about three years later in 1978. This was about three missing children, who had clearly run away from the Orphanage and were found two days later getting off a freight train about four hundred miles away from Tai Po in Mainland China. One of the kids had left a note indicating what they intended to do. They were returned to the Orphanage, given a mild punishment consisting of extra duties keeping the playground clean. The other children all wanted to hear about their adventure and the three were minor heroes for a few days.

The missing four children from 1975 and this incident were unrelated. Nothing tied either event to the other.

Continuing my scanning, on July 19, 1982, two more children were missing, this time, never returning to the orphanage after school was over. Both had attended all their classes and were to have boarded a bus provided by the orphanage to return for their normal everyday activities, including homework and dinner. Neither one had been seen after their last class, no one noticed them walking away from the school or hitching a ride with anyone else. A search of the town and bulletins on radio, television and in the newspapers failed to turn up any information.

It didn’t take the news media very long to dig up the story of the missing four kids in 1975, but nothing connected either their schooling, or their social worker/substitute parent who had been a different person and these two had been living in house number three. What was going on here? Was there some pattern or hidden agenda to the two incidents? Were there other children who had disappeared and simply fallen into the cracks? The police department and the press left the orphanage scratching their heads. After a few months the hunt died down and the news media moved on to more current goings on.

Now I was totally hooked on my research and went over data beginning with the Orphanage’s first year in existence right up to the current time and found a few other minor mishaps, but nothing to rival the two disappearances. Once all sixteen children in one house had food poisoning, another time a girl of eighteen became pregnant via her local boyfriend also an orphan but in another house, a few fights in town when a local town boy insulted the children, but nothing to sink one’s teeth into. One social worker, a live in brother, had too much to drink and crashed his car into a tree, while several left their positions without any notice whatsoever. Over the years a staff member or orphan occasionally died of natural causes or from an outbreak of a particular disease

Obviously, my research was leading me toward another rather unexpected direction, the disappearing children and not as I had originally intended, what had taken place prior to the sale of their property. I was unwilling to let go of my initial thought process, but this ice cold trail of the missing kids made my mind and heart race.

I met with my two clients and explained I had not achieved anything significant about the sale of the orphanage, but that I did come across a number of articles relating to missing children first in 1975 and then in 1982, which had stimulated my interest in the orphanage’s affairs. I would need to do quite a lot more digging to ascertain if anything weird or unconventional took place before or during the sale or on the offhand chance the missing children had anything to do with the sudden sale.

They wanted me to continue, but had limited resources to account for a full-fledged investigation going back over so many years. I told them not to worry about the cost, as I would take care of my own expenses as the case now had two clear cut directions stemming out from their initial question about the sale.

I briefly questioned both of them about their knowledge of either the four missing children in 1975, which they knew nothing about, as they were too young, and about the two missing in 1982, which they both were aware of, but not really knowledgeable as to what had taken place. Neither of them had been living in a house near the missing kids and didn’t really know them or other kids living with them. They had been asked at the time if they had seen anything or knew anything, but they simply hadn’t been able to shed any light on the event. Perhaps one event would lead me to the other or at least on the trail of what actually happened.

To cut to the chase, I was extremely interested and didn’t care about the time or money involved in taking a hard look at the overall picture. I would let them know should I find anything further about the sale. I had no idea where this was going to lead me. If I had, I probably would have walked away, no, should have run away.

Chapter 4

Mr. William Lam, Kai Chou, the former Superintendent of the Orphanage for over thirty years and was now running St. Francis Home for the Elderly, has graciously agreed to fill me in regarding the Orphanage’s past history and by providing accurate details of what transpired prior to its changing locations.

This is what he had said on the phone, but had been ducking me and not responding to several telephone messages I had left with his secretary. He was either a very busy guy or really didn’t want to be questioned. Apparently, what he said and what he did were two separate things.

I automatically picked up my mobile phone and dialed his number from memory. Once again his secretary apologized for him as he was too busy to call back during the next two weeks. This guy was dodging me. I’ll have to drop in on him unexpectedly.

In addition, Mrs. Leung Lai Fong, currently in charge of St. James Orphanage, may be able to put me in direct contact with a few former orphans who are now adults, but still come back to attend annual events. Finding out details regarding the daily routine and what it was like growing up directly from individuals actually brought up in this environment is invaluable. She had been in charge of the overall operation for about two and a half years.

Mrs. Leung was quite helpful and open. She obtained approval from the Church to allow me to go through all of their old documents and files during its early years, not really aware of the fact I was looking for some kind of connection between the two disappearances, even though they were seven years apart.

I was informed these documents were kept in a ten by ten-foot square room leased by the Orphanage in an old warehouse building. They were searching for a key to unlock this storage facility and would pass this on to me along with a written letter of authority thereby enabling me to legally gain entrance.

I had built up quite a list of people to interview, if they could be located and I needed to see the police reports. My list would surely grow when I began to question former residents and staff of the Orphanage.

A few days later my first interview was arranged by Mrs. Leung, just happened to be with a Mr. Leung, Au Wah, a former orphan/resident, who had lived at St. James from infancy until his twenty-first birthday. (Although they happened to share the same last name, they were not related.)

He had been living in house number eight, only fifty feet or so from house number seven when the first four children had disappeared. I could hardly contain my excitement prior to the interview, never informing Mrs. Leung as to why I was so anxious to hear his story. We met in a large Pacific Coffee shop in Wan Chai about one block away from the Orphanage’s main administrative office. This interview took place on November 29, 2004 and is for the most part, a word for word recording of the event:

‘Good morning, Mr. Leung. Thank you for agreeing to meet me and for allowing me to question you at some length about your life during your Orphanage years.’

‘Good morning, Sir.’

‘For the record, I’d like to get your age, current address, marital status and occupation.’

‘Okay, I’m almost forty-five. I live in Causeway Bay, but prefer to keep my exact address private. I was married, but now divorced and have no children. I’m a construction worker.’

‘How long were you married?’

‘Eight years’.

‘If you don’t mind, why did your marriage fail?

‘I do mind’, he replied in a raised voice, clearly angry at my first bit of digging, perhaps hitting a nerve, ‘but will answer your question as long as we get off this topic, as it is not one that pleases me. She wanted children and I did not. I hope that is clear and the end of this part of your interview.’

‘Sorry to have upset you. I didn’t realize it would aggravate you. I will not pursue this for now. Please understand, that your day to day life as an adult, your achievements and failures are a direct result of how you were brought up as a youngster and any questions asked are an attempt to determine how the past has affected who and what you are today..

He nodded his head indicating I should continue.

‘How far did you get with your education?’

‘I have a university degree, with a major in psychology.

‘Rather an odd background for a construction worker. Did you ever work in the field of psychology?’

‘Yes, but quickly discovered it wasn’t for me, only provided more questions, with very few answers. I thought it would help me to understand my own life and perhaps help others to understand their own circumstances’.

‘I enjoy the outdoors, if fact always liked building things and this led me to construction work. It may not stimulate my mind, but does satisfy other needs, such as food and shelter. It also keeps me very fit.’

‘Yes I noticed, you appear to be in very good condition, quite lean and strong. I understand you have recently returned to the Orphanage, willing to donate part of your free time on weekends to help them with general repairs to their buildings. Am I correct?’

‘I have. Why not try to make the place a little more livable? I want the kids to be comfortable. Although I’m not particularly a smashing success in terms of financial status, I do manage to survive and once in awhile have extra time on my hands, as my work is not always steady.’

‘It would indeed be a great world if everyone acted as you are doing. To change the subject for a second, what do you do for a hobby?’

‘I carve wooden figures. I’m good with my hands. I have been doing this since I was eleven years old. Another older orphan taught me how to do it. I guess once you find you like something and you’re reasonably good at it, well it seems to be almost automatic. I probably could carve a likeness of you now that we have met. No wife or kids around, so I am able to do what I want, whenever I feel like it.’

‘Perhaps you will show me some of your work when time permits.’

‘Yeah, maybe we can arrange it.’

‘Did the Orphanage have their own doctor and if needed, did they have an outside psychologist or guidance-counselor for the children?’

‘A local village doctor was used except in emergencies when the hospital in Sha Tin would send an ambulance. As for a psychologist, there was an old guy who would come whenever necessary. He must be eighty something if he is still living. I remember seeing him around quite a bit at one time, but can’t think of why or for whom. The only guidance-counselor was working for the church and from what I’ve heard, his only told the kids to pray and put your faith in God. As for their names, you’ll have to check with Mrs. Leung. I was fortunate and in good health most of my life, with no need for medical doctors or shrinks.’

‘Please give me your feelings, your impression as to what your life was like at the Orphanage. I may break in from time to time to ask you a question to clarify something, but will try to remain quiet. Take your time.’

‘It’s hard to begin. But one day you wake up and find you’re different from other kids, that is ones’ with parents. It’s not so noticeable before going to public school, as all of the other kids are in the same boat.

‘Once you attend school, outside of the Orphanage, things change rapidly. You are socially isolated from the other kids. They go home to their families every afternoon after school, you go back to the Orphanage, they see their mothers and fathers every night, you get a stranger you call mother or brother, but no matter what you know they aren’t really a relative of yours. They don’t belong to only you. It’s their job and not necessarily a job they find rewarding or enjoyable. I’ve had good brothers’ and bad brothers.’ Some of the workers were kinder and more tolerant than others. Then again, I’ve been told I’m not that easy to get along with or to get close to. I guess I’m sort of a loner.’

‘Who was your favorite brother?’

‘I don’t remember his last name, only his first, a guy named Rick. He was very smart and cared a lot about the kids he was responsible for. I found him to be honest and fair.’

‘Who was the brother you disliked the most?’

‘That’s easy, his name was Josh. Not a standup kind of guy, sort of a sniveler. One who would tell someone else what was wrong rather than talking directly face to face. Something about him wasn’t right. He seemed to have the ear of Superintendent Lam and almost everyone avoided him whenever possible. By the way, the one guy who no one liked was Superintendent Lam. Check it out with others and you will see I am right.’

‘Why?’

‘Lam was a real political guy, ran for some kind of seat on the local town board and put all of us to work on his campaign. He was a kind of a sneaky, greedy bugger, not against using us to his advantage. He pressured all of the employees working under him, not just the kids. I always felt he would stop at nothing to get what he wanted’.

‘Someone told me he was no longer working for the orphanage, but still running something connected with the church. He was the type of person who looked out for himself first. I never could understand why he worked in the social service field. I don’t think he gave a damn about the kids. He wanted power and respect. He seemed to be a guy who would do anything to achieve his personal goals’.

‘He enjoyed doling out punishment to the kids who misbehaved, didn’t mind using a hard wooden paddle on their backsides. He had sort of a sadistic streak.’

‘Have you ever mentioned this to his superiors?’

‘No, I was too young to know anyone above him and frightened to complain or question his authority. He would have put me on his shit list if I stirred up anything, so I just let it rest. I can’t remember anyone who challenged his orders, whether or not they liked what he had them doing. He seemed to favor two or three social workers with extra days off and with other minor perks. He certainly had his own team of people in other areas as well.’

‘What do you mean and what function did they have?’

‘I vaguely recall a grim faced gardener, who also doubled up as a bus driver dropping off and picking up the kids at school every day, a Nun who worked in the pre-school section and another mousy looking Sister with an apparently huge chest, who worked in the main office. (He had moved his arms and hands in front of him indicating a big set of tits). We called her Sister, but I’m not too certain she was really a bona fide nun. She made eyes at him and he ate it up, even though she was not as far as I’m aware, a readily available woman. I had the impression they were more than friends, but never discovered anything to confirm my thoughts. I don’t remember their names, as I had very little to do with any of them. A different bus driver took me to school. When any of these pals of his had a problem, he would make it go away.’

‘Go away?’

‘Yes, as in one very difficult big tough young guy about seventeen, who was suddenly transferred to a government run lockdown psychiatric facility, rather far from the Orphanage. I don’t think the place is still operating, but Billy never returned. I liked him and his sudden removal frightened me at the time. I think the Superintendent was afraid of him. Billy was over six feet tall and probably weighed around two hundred pounds. He wasn’t the kind of kid to take any crap from anyone. We were never told why he was taken away, just hinted that he had done something very wrong. Maybe you’ll be able to look at the records and find out what really took place. Actually, over the years I had forgotten about it, but your question has freshened up my memory. I would like to know, if you find out anything at all.’

‘I’ve noted it and when time permits I’ll see what I can find out. If I uncover anything, I’ll let you know. Over the years the Orphanage had its share of unusual quirky happenings. One of which is about four missing children from house number seven. You were there at that time. What do you remember about that?’

‘That was frightening! I remember it like it was yesterday, it’s something you’ll never forget. We were relentlessly questioned by the staff, then the local police and finally by the press, continuously going over and over the same thing. Not a single kid provided them with anything concrete. The local cops brought in two large yapping bloodhounds and after sniffing clothing worn by each of the four children, the dogs found nothing’.

‘The other kids in that house all said they had slept soundly, but looked tired as hell. It had to be especially tiresome and difficult for them. If anyone knew anything, they sure didn’t say anything and after a few months things were sort of back to normal. However, security was stepped up a bit, particularly at the entrance and a big fence now surrounded the property. The other kids in house number seven, were really scared, but soon got over their fear when new orphans took the places of the missing kids.’

‘Do you recall anything unusual that took place either a few days before or after the children disappeared?’

‘Not really, well nothing pertinent or that might be related to their disappearance. I recall a lot of yelling coming from the administrative building office perhaps a day or two before the kids vanished. Sounded like the Super had gone ballistic, but he always was blowing off steam at somebody. Couldn’t really make out what was being said, but within a few seconds, the gardener rushed out of the office, his face red and angry looking. I didn’t hang around and got away from there quickly.’

‘I would really appreciate getting your full contact details and give you my word they will not be passed on to anyone else. I want to check out a few people and things you have told me about and then get back to you for perhaps an additional question or two. Would you give them to me please?’

‘Okay, sorry I’m such a private person, many of my Chinese friends and colleagues are the same way.’ He then gave me his address and mobile phone number.

‘The Orphanage shows you left their care on your twenty-first birthday in 1980. Since it’s getting late, I have just one more question for today. Just take a minute or two to sum up your life in the Orphanage, what you thought about it, how it affected you. Was it positive or negative?’

‘Overall, I was thankful for not being in the streets, as both my parents had abandoned me and I had nothing and knew no one. They gave me a chance to develop into a productive adult and did the best they could. I appreciated what was done for me, but of course would have rather had my own parents and been brought up by people who really loved me. It would take a few hours to explain how I felt then and how I feel now.’

‘Let’s stop for now. I appreciate your time and your answers. Anything we have discussed will remain highly confidential, just between the two of us. I am certain I’ll have a few more questions for you during the next few months. Is it alright to phone you when I need to clear up something?’

‘Yes, I really didn’t find this as difficult as I thought it might be. I try not to think too much about the past, just the present and the future. Good meeting you.’

‘Same for me, I’ll be in touch and thanks again.’

After we parted, I mulled over our conversation and planned to review it later in the evening. He was an interesting character. He had mentioned a number of incidents to check out and people I wanted to interview.

Chapter 5

I called Mrs. Leung to thank her for arranging the interview and to find out if she had arranged for me to meet any other former resident orphans. She did have two other people lined up and had gotten permission to give me their telephone numbers to set a time and place. I jotted now the names and numbers of a man and woman. She also had found the key to the storage facility and I could pick it up at my leisure from her secretary. I thanked her for her cooperation and told her I would try to come by to pick up the storage key before the weekend.

I went home to my crowded flat in Junk Bay, with its partial water view, tossed my clothes on the couch and poured myself a strong shot of scotch, put on a jazz disc of Miles Davis, sat back and listened to the music while sipping my drink. My thoughts were full of my interview with Mr. Leung and without realizing it I dozed off dreaming about the orphanage.

I was awakened by the constant ringing of my phone and upon picking up the receiver and saying ‘hello’, all I heard was a muffled male voice, ‘stop the investigation now, mind your own business’, and before I could reply the line went dead. Nothing like getting a wakeup call and one that managed to peak my interest even further. I checked my watch, it was already eight a.m.

A shave and shower were next, followed by a cup of black coffee with a toasted English muffin. Now I felt alive and ready to face the day.

First I listened to the interview, frequently stopping to quickly jot down an important point to follow up on. By the time the recording ran its course, I needed to check on the following people and points: His divorce, where and for whom did he work in the psychology field, I wanted to see his wood carvings, find out the names of the doctor and psychologist and who they treated, the relationship between Josh and the Super - along with Josh’s personnel file and who was the gardener/bus driver and when did he leave, check on the Super and his political ambitions, who was the big breasted Nun, what was the relationship between the Super and the Nun, what happened between Billy/Psychologist/Super and where did they send him - was he still alive and what was the argument about between the Super and Gardener.

It was almost nine thirty a.m., not too early and not too late to call the two people Mrs. Leung had provided me with.

My first call was to a Ms. Connie Tang who at twenty-one had left the Orphanage in 1994. Perhaps she would be able to fill in some of the details about the two missing children from 1982 or something about the sale of the Orphanage property. The phone was picked up after ringing four times and a pleasant sounding voice responding with the Cantonese word for hello, ‘Wei?’

‘Hi, my name is James Harvey. I’m in the process of investigating the events leading to the sale of the St. James Orphanage’s original site in Tai Po and Mrs. Leung gave me your number. I hope I’m not calling too early.’

‘No you’re not. I have been expecting your call. What can I do to help you?’

‘Would you mind being interviewed by me about your life at the Orphanage?’

‘No problem, but I work as a secretary Monday to Friday from 10 a.m. to 6 p.m. and on every other Saturday from 9 a.m. until noon and you’ll have to get together with me in the evening or on Saturday afternoon. In fact, I was about