Thai Horse

Following tradition, Tollie Fong, who had committed the insult, had arrived first. He sat on the side of the table facing the stairwell. Behind him stood his three aides, their arms crossed over their chests.

There were two other men in the room. One was Sam Chin, an elder in the Chinese community and a respected banker, who was the san wong of one of the most honored triads in the Sun Lee On. The other was Lon Tung, san wong of the House of Seven Drums, one of the most dangerous of the Chiu Chao triads. They were there to monitor the meeting, to make sure there was no violence and that whatever the problem was it would be resolved satisfactorily, either with accepted apologies, or with a formal declaration of war between the two houses. Among the triads, a sudden and undeclared attack from one on another was considered dishonorable. Members of the offending family were ostracized. Fong’s alacrity in asking for the meeting was obligatory.

Fong stood as Cohen came down the stairs. He smiled a barely discernible smile. His reputation as the most ruthless assassin in the Chiu Chaos was undisputed.

He and Cohen sat down facing each other. Fong poured each a cup of tea. Nobody else spoke. Not even a throat was cleared. Fong took a sip of tea before starting. Cohen leaned back, sipped his tea and stared across the table at Fong, yen dui yen, eye on eye. The stare could not be broken until the problem was resolved, one way or another — either with forgiveness or with war.

According to tradition, the two men spoke through their judges, a ritual designed to prevent direct confrontations. Thus sarcasm and tonal inflections were removed from the negotiation. Fong held up one hand and Tung leaned over as Fong whispered in his ear.

‘I returned from Bangkok as soon as I heard about the unfortunate incident at your home last night,’ Tung said, repeating Fong’s whispered remarks.

Sam Chin leaned over Cohen, who whispered his response.

‘Mm goi,’ Chin repeated what Cohen had said. ‘I am pleased you have acted so promptly.’

‘You understand that this attack was not done at my command? I did not order such an insult to your home.’

‘I do now, since you say so,’ was Cohen’s response.

‘I have come to offer an apology,’ Fong said through Lon Tung.

The conversation continued in this vein — Fong whispering his comments to Tung, who repeated them, and Cohen replying through Chin.

‘You have violated my house,’ Cohen’s judge replied. ‘A dishonor to the oath of the triads.’

Fong quickly whispered a lengthy answer, his eyes beginning to glitter in the feeble light.

‘It was not me. But it was my Number One, and Lung has paid dearly for his sins. I come to apologize for his stupidity, and to ask that the Tsu Fi forgive me.’ He paused while Tung repeated his comments, then before Cohen could answer, whispered something further. Tung said, ‘And to offer compensation for this insult.’

Cohen leaned forward, playing the game to the hilt and whispering hurriedly to Chin. ‘I am sorry, I did not hear the last,’ he said.

Tung said, ‘Tollie Fong has offered to make compensation for the insult to the Tsu Fi.’

Cohen finally nodded. He took another sip of tea before whispering his retort to Chin.

‘Then I accept your apology,’ Chin repeated.

‘Mm goi,’ Tung said with a nod of his head. ‘And what compensation does the Tsu Fi feel is proper?’

Cohen took a sip of tea, his eyes still locked with Fong’s. Then he whispered slowly to Chin. Chin looked surprised, but only for a moment. He stood tip and said, ‘As tribute, you must set aside this feud with the mei gwok Hatcher.’

The men on both sides of the room were startled by the demand. The judges, Chin and Tung, stared at each other. The demand, they knew, would cause trouble. Anger boiled up in Fong. Hate dilated the pupils in his eyes. By the san wong’s orders, he must grant the demand, but he had to protest to save face.

He shook his head but still remained yen dui yen with Cohen. ‘I cannot do that,’ he whispered to Tung in a voice thick with hatred and loud enough for Cohen to hear. ‘The mei gwok yahn murdered my father.’

‘It is my understanding that the mei gwok killed in self-defense,’ Cohen whispered in a voice just as loud, not waiting for Tung’s translation.

‘He dishonored the House of Fong, just as Lung dishonored your house,’ Fong answered crisply, still yen dui yen, but now speaking directly to Cohen.

‘Then it is an even trade,’ Cohen quickly answered.

The response disarmed Fong for a moment. Fong was a killer, not a negotiator. ‘No! Not until Hatcher joins Lung in hell is it an even trade. What you ask is unreasonable.’

Cohen held his hands out in a gesture of futility. ‘Nevertheless it is the price you must pay for Lung’s dishonor.’

Fong slowly shook his head, his eyes still locked with Cohen’s, growing more angry with each word.

‘I made a blood promise, the oath of ch’u-tiao,’ Fong said slowly.

‘Honor is honor,’ said Cohen. ‘I say the feud is over.’

‘And I say this thing between Hatcher and me is not your business,’ Fong said, leaning toward Cohen.