20070331/遭遇黑帮勒索,加拿大商人上海惊魂记

这篇文章很向N年前学的课文,尤其对人物的刻画和场景的描述极为生动。上海,这座冒险家的乐园,留给今日的加拿大人竟是这样的印象!

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SHANGHAI SHAKEDOWN
MARK SISSONS

Special to The Globe and Mail

‘Body of Canadian businessman found hacked to pieces in Shanghai alley.”

Not exactly the way I want my 15 column inches of fame to read. But as the gangster’s fingers approach my ankles, it wasn’t looking good.

Three hours after arriving in Shanghai, I’m in a taxi weaving through the neon labyrinth of China’s largest city. The driver has promised to deliver me to a pub near my hotel where I can take the edge off my jetlag. Instead, he deposits me in the middle of a dark alley.

“Beer here,” he says, jabbing his finger to a shabby doorway. I ask him to wait while I check it out. I find a deserted room with a bar, a shabby couch, and a plastic coffee table. A lone fluorescent bulb dangles overhead. I’m about to leave when a weedy little bald man appears. The barman. He smiles as I walk out the door. No more taxi. I’m lost in Shanghai.

I return and ask the barman to call me a cab. He nods while he pours me a pint of brackish ale. Just then, in walks a Shanghainese homeboy, all blinged out, a cigarette dangling from a cocky sneer. He’s accompanied by a sumo-sized posse of three. Now I’m lost in Shanghai with the triads.

“You want nice girl?”

“No thanks. Just leaving,” I say, draining my pint.

Too late. A sallow teenager in a cheap cocktail dress wearing too much makeup appears, looking terminally bored. The barman pours me another pint, mixes the girl a fruity little “lady drink,” and then produces a plate of stale nuts. Ten minutes later, I ask for the bill. It’s 500 American dollars.

“There must be some mistake,” I stutter, pointing to the tally. My pulse is already racing.

“No mistake,” hisses Homeboy, exhaling a cloud of smoke in my face. “You pay for drinks, food and girl’s time. $500.”

As the gravity of my predicament sinks in, I accept a cigarette from Homeboy, figuring it might be my last. Fifteen hours ago I was sipping a latte in Vancouver Airport’s international departures terminal. Now, I’m all alone on the far side of the planet getting shaken down by Chinese gangsters.

“I haven’t got it,” I reply, my voice cracking. I show him the contents of my wallet — about $40.

“Credit card? We go to bank machine. You take out money.”

As a caution, I had locked my credit card in the hotel safe, along with my ticket and passport.

“Stand up,” he barks, growing agitated. I comply, and he pads me down like a movie detective while his gang watches. I’m clean. This fleece is evidently not golden. Relief washes over me. Surely, now they’ll be satisfied to take my $40 and let me go.

“Take off shoes,” he growls. Relief turns to panic. Before I left the hotel, I stuffed a wad of bills into my sock and wedged it beneath the arch of my foot. Emergency funds, in case I got mugged. It’s a safe assumption that when Homeboy finds it he’s going to be very disappointed in me for lying to him.

I’m visibly shaking now as I remove my shoes and step up onto the coffee table. Homeboy’s fingers run over my ankles, and across the top of my stocking feet, brushing within a millimetre of my cash stash. Nothing.

Homeboy barks an order at one of his goons, who goes outside (to fetch the choppers, I reckon). Then, inexplicably, Homeboy starts laughing and smiling at me. “Okay, you go now. No problem.”

I’m dumbfounded. One minute I’m mentally composing my obituary. The next, I’m tying my laces as fast as I can. We head outside together to wait for the cab they’ve called for me. In a moment, it pulls up. Handshakes all around. Grins and more laughter, like they’re seeing an old comrade off. As I climb in (and lock the door), he sticks his face up to the window and grins. “Have good time in Shanghai!”

I plan on doing just that after I stop hyperventilating.

http://www.theglobeandmail.com/servlet/story/LAC.20070331.BLOG31/TPStory/

1 Comment

  1. jackjia (Post author)

    加拿大商人上海惊魂记

    【星星生活-星网讯】 酒保又给我倒了一杯啤酒,同时给她到了一杯水果味道的“女士饮料”,继而又端出一盘发霉的果仁。十分钟后,我的帐单来了,上面赫然写着五百美元。我结结巴巴地说:“一定搞错了吧。”……

    (星星生活特稿/唯一编译报道)徜徉在上海高楼大厦与灯红酒绿之间,你会体会到上海独有的海派风格。从昔日的冒险家乐园,到今日的金融商业龙头地位,上海已俨然成为一座举世闻名的国际大都市。

    但是,繁荣的背后依然隐藏着种种社会问题,甚至于街头黑帮的明目张胆的敲诈勒索。近日,加拿大《环球邮报》刊载一位加国商人马克-西森斯(MARK SISSONS)在上海的旅行记事,流畅诙谐的文字背后是一场惊心动魄的历险记。

    “加拿大商人陈尸上海”──这样的新闻报道可不是我所希望的出名方式。不过当一伙黑帮用手搜查我的脚腕的时刻,我以为我很快就会成为报上长约十五行的新闻。

    那天,在我的飞机降落上海机场三个小时之后,我乘坐着一辆出租车穿梭于这座中国最大城市的迷宫里。出租司机保证说会送我到一家离我下榻的旅馆很近的酒吧,在那里我可以喝几杯,忘却倒时差的痛苦。但是,车开到一个阴暗的小巷子里,司机让我下车。

    “这里有啤酒。”他指了指路边一个破烂的小店。我要他等着我,我先去进去看一下。那是一间没有人气的小店,里面有个吧台,破烂的座椅和一张塑料小桌,屋顶上有一盏孤零零的日光灯。正当我要离开的时候,里面走出来一个瘦瘦的秃顶男人,也许就是酒保了。他笑嘻嘻地看着我走出店门。门外哪里还有出租车的影子,只有迷失在上海小巷里的我。

    我只好回到店里,请酒保帮我叫辆出租车。他一边点头一边给我倒了一杯啤酒。这时,门外走进了一个上海本地男孩,一身闪闪发亮的装束,嘴角边除了冷笑还挂着一只香烟。他身边走着三条日本相扑斗士般的大汉。现在,我不仅迷了路,还遇上了黑帮。

    “想不想找个好姑娘陪你?”对方问。

    “谢谢啦。我正准备离开。”我一边说一边喝干杯里的酒。

    太迟了。又进来一个面色苍白的女孩,穿着件廉价的鸡尾酒服,脸上浓妆艳抹,表情非常地不耐烦。酒保又给我倒了一杯啤酒,同时给她到了一杯水果味道的“女士饮料”,继而又端出一盘发霉的果仁。十分钟后,我的帐单来了,上面赫然写着五百美元。

    我结结巴巴地说:“一定搞错了吧。”此时我的脉搏跳得飞快。

    “没错。”那个黑帮男孩说,对着我的脸喷出一口烟。“你得付酒钱,果仁,还有小姐的陪酒时间。五百美元!”

    我在困境里越陷越深,我接过他递过来的一根香烟,认定这大概我此生最后一根了。十五个小时前我在温哥华国际机场喝咖啡,现在我在世界的另一个角落被上海黑帮讹诈。

    “我身上没这么多钱啊”我的声音都发抖了。我让他看我的钱包,里面只有四十元。

    “你有信用卡么?我们可以去找个银行取款机,你取钱就是了。”

    好在我事先做了准备,将信用卡,机票和护照都存放在旅馆的保险箱里。

    “站起来!”他大吼一声。我老老实实地从命。他又把我按回座位上,好像电影里的侦探那样,他的同伙在一边看着。我的衣服也不值钱。我放心了一些,也许他们会收了那四十元放我走人吧。

    “脱鞋!”他又咆哮一声。我吓坏了,离开旅馆前,我在袜子里塞了一点钱,作为应急款。如果他发现了这笔钱肯定觉得我一直在骗他。

    我脱鞋的时候人已经开始发抖了。他的手摸到我的脚腕,脚面,在离我藏钱的地方一毫米之处停住了。他什么也没找到。

    他对几个手下人喊了几句,那几个家伙走出店门,我心想他们不会是去找斧头了吧。这时,莫名其妙地,那家伙向我露出了笑容:“好吧,你可以走了。”

    我麻木了。前一分钟我在脑子里写自己的死亡报告,后一分钟我在飞快地系鞋带。我们一起走出了小店,门外停着他们叫来的出租车。下一步是大家跟我握手告别,欢声笑语,好像我是他们的老朋友。我钻进车(赶紧锁上门),那家伙脸贴在窗户上笑着对我说“祝你在上海玩的愉快!”

    我肯定会玩得愉快,等我喘匀了气。

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