There was no room for advancement to Pre
University level. At 16, he was to
enter the world of working adults. He should count himself lucky. Many of his
childhood friends had been working in the kopitiams after PSLE. That was quite
a normal route of progress at a time when living was casual and natural. There
was no grief or pain for becoming a kopi kia and doing odd job as labourers.
Morgan already had his offer, as a bouncer in a bar in some
corners of Balestier Road.
He was big and strong enough for the job. There was no need for any application
to write. He was handpicked or head hunted by one of the triad boss that he met
while frequenting the bars.
Though Morgan’s highest standard passed was not even PSLE
but completed Secondary 4, he turned down the bouncer’s offer. He was to lead a
team of salesmen to distribute Van Houten and Nestle products. The father of
his brother in law happened to be one of the Three Oxes of Tanglin. The ward of
Tanglin was shared by these three seniors of the area. They were the bosses
that operated the underground trades, bars, gambling, prostitution, etc etc.
The job offered to Morgan was like godsend. How many who failed the Senior
Cambridge Examination could enjoy such good fortunes of landing two jobs on
their lap, without lifting a finger to write an application letter?
The supervisor job came with a decent income and a mini van
as his personal vehicle. Life was good for a 16 year old. And life began at
night, in the bars of Balestier, Jalan Besar and Geylang. Drinking and smoking
and merry making with his salesmen and new found friends every night was
Morgan’s routine. Daylight was spent in his office in a prewar house in Kuok Road
that served also as a warehouse for his sweets, chocolate and confectionary
goods.
Kuok Road
was a busy street especially during lunch hours. Traffic was heavy as it was a
favourite haunt for food in one of the lanes behind the old Orchard Wet Market,
the present Robinson Shopping Centre. Morgan’s first encounter with the power
of the triad bosses came when one of his salesmen reported his goods being
stolen from his van. The vans were normally parked along side the shophouses
for loading and unloading. Apparently someone found the unattended vans easy
target. It was a short distance from the warehouse. It would take a couple of
minutes for moving the goods in and out of the warehouse. This was good enough
to walk by to lift a few boxes of free chocolates or merchandise.
The matter was raise with his father in law. A stakeout was
arranged. The loading and unloading went on as usual. The thief struck but was
bundled into a waiting van by a few men in double quick time. He was never seen
or heard of again. With such powerful friends in the background, life was easy for
Morgan. He spent his free time inside the warehouse practising his nanchaku,
made famous by Bruce Lee.
Lunch time was noisy and busy in Kuok
Lane. One such routine afternoon was interrupted
by the shouting of Ah Siong’s voice. Ah Siong was a childhood friend of Morgan
and share the same academic achievements with flying colours. Morgan roped him
in as a salesman. Morgan went out to check the commotion. Ah Siong’s van was in
the middle of the road and a Datsun was in a parking lot he was attempting to back
into. Apparently the Datsun driver drove head on into the slot while Ah Siong
was attempting to reverse into it. Ah Siong was there first and he related the
incident to Morgan. ‘Get out’, Morgan pointed to the driver. This was ignored
and the driver walked off. He was stopped by Morgan who told him in a harsher
tone, ‘Get out or else…’
By then the driver too was getting agitated. He waved a card
at Morgan and shouted that he was a police officer. Morgan was not to be
intimidated and snatched at the card. The plain clothed police officer withdrew
his card swiftly. Morgan moved in at great speed, a skill he learnt while being
a national fencer. It was followed by a lightning punch that connected the
officer’s jaw. He spun around, dropped and hit the road. Before Morgan could
make further attacks, he heard the slamming of doors of another car behind him.
Out came several police officers in plain clothes.
The officers were there for lunch and were furious that
Morgan attacked one of them. One stretched out to grab Morgan, wanting to drag
him into their car. This was blocked by Morgan’s oversized arm and the officer
gave an ‘ouch’ cry as his arm was thrown off. While the officers kept
threatening Morgan to go with them, Morgan coolly swaggered into his office,
lighting a cigarette along the way. Then he warned the officers not to step
into his office. He told the officers to send a marked police car if they
wanted him to go to the station.
A moment of truce and silence took over from the noisy
shouting and threatening voices. The crowd gathered to watch the excitement. Ah
Siong and the other drivers also retreated into the warehouse. All of them were
shivering in their pants and wondering how the matter would turn into. It was a
serious matter to strike at a police officer. They were more frightened when
the police car came to whisk Morgan away. They could only think of the worst.
The police of the time were noted for being tough with the criminals and the
triad members. Entering a police station, in the hands of the law, getting
manhandled and rough up were the normal courtesy extended to their uninvited
visitors. In this instance, Morgan was likely to be given a good bashing for
his thoughtless attack on their comrade in arms. Beating a police officer was unheard
of in those days, or even today. Morgan
must have gone bonkers. It was senseless and reckless.
Morgan beating up a police officer was hot news. It went
‘viral’ and the whole underworld came to know about it. They laughed at the
stupidity of this new kid in the block and expected Morgan to be taught a good
lesson for it. At least, Morgan was famous in the wrong way, a notoriety in the
underworld of triads and hoodlums.
Morgan sat waiting at a table in the backroom of Tanglin
Police Station at the junction of Orchard Road
and Scots Road where Ion
now stood. Soon a tough and gangster looking officer came and plunged himself
on the table in front of Morgan. He stared down at Morgan, slammed his palm
onto the table. It was their way of shattering the light out of any wrong
doers. Short of lifting Morgan up in the air to shake him out, this was the
best he could do. At 18, Morgan was big and not an easy thing to lift even for
a well built man.
Morgan was not impressed or startled. It was a test of grit
and will. Seeing that his antics had no effect, the officer began unbutton his
shirt. The tattoos flashed out from his chest. Morgan also unbuttoned his
shirt, and there were tattoos as well. Morgan also had tattoos over his arms
and back. His favourite was a man leaning on a lamp post with his head bowed.
This was etched on his upper left arm. Four Chinese characters below the tattoo
read ‘chiat pah tan si’, or ‘eat full wait die’.
The confrontation between the officer and Morgan were more
verbal and posturing, with each trying to size up the other. Morgan was allowed
to make a call. (To be continued)
4 comments:
Fuck lah. Study hard. go to university. Join an investment bank or law firm. Lie, cheat, steal legally with the complete blessing of the government.
If you're going into crime as a career, because you are attracted by power, money and impunity -- join the finance industry. Forget the small time con jobs and warehouse burglaries.
RB, I think the road you referred of in your story is KOEK ROAD at the junction of Orchard Road, right? I can't find Kuok Road in the road directory, leh.
Anon, I remember it as Kuok, but it is the same road.
Matilah, in the 60s and 70s, bankers were more conservative and earned decent money in a more respectable manner than the crooks of today.
True, true. But civil servants were also honourable. They accepted modest salaries and lived in subsidized housing in places like Winstetd Road, Braddel and Pasir Panjang.
It's actually Koek Road. I should know. I'm a distant relative.
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