“Two of the senior officials in the emperor’s court wanted to overthrow him, but they were afraid of the Shaolin monks, who were obviously loyal to the emperor. So they convinced the emperor that the Shaolin could be dangerous to him as revolutionaries. The emperor fell for it. He had the monastery burned, and all but five of the monks were killed. Those five are supposed to be the ‘Five Ancestors’ who created the first triad. They called the triad ‘ Hung ’-‘red’-because of a red light that appeared in the sky during their first ceremony. It was later called a ‘triad’ from their idea of the relationship between heaven, earth, and man. By adopting heaven as their father and earth as their mother, they were free to ignore the bonds of their real families and country and give their loyalty to each other as brothers and to the organization.
“The Chinese officials from the old Ming dynasty who were thrown out by the Ch’ings and even the poor classes joined into triads patterned after that first ‘red’ society. They used secret oaths and ceremonies and all the trappings. The whole purpose of the triad was patriotic-the overthrow of the Ch’ing dynasty.
“Then in 1912, Sun Yat-Sen’s revolution finally overthrew the Ch’ings and established the Republic of China. Most of the old triad leaders who weren’t absorbed into the new government stayed with the triads for the status and power. The problem was that there was no patriotic cause left. So they turned to organized criminal activity. The old triad values of patriotism, brotherhood, and righteousness of the last three centuries got warped into pure loyalty to the triad. And the triads became purely criminal organizations.
“After the communists took over in China, most of the triads moved to Hong Kong. There were about thirty of them there when the mainland took back Hong Kong, in spite of the fact that a Hong Kong statute makes it a crime to belong to a triad. They’re probably mostly still intact.”
We were passing the Museum of Science, heading in the direction of the once and former Boston Garden and North Station to come into Chinatown from the North End.
“Interesting, Harry. What does it have to do with the Dragon Lady’s brothel?”
“I’m getting to that. Listen to me. There are thirty-six oaths of loyalty that every new member swears on the night he’s inducted. Like, they promise not to disclose any of the secrets of the Hung family to anyone, parents, brothers and spouses included. If they do, they agree to be killed by many swords. They also swear that if a brother goes away or is arrested or killed, they will help his wife and children. They agree to be killed by thunderbolts if they don’t do this.
“They’re quite amazing. None of the thirty-six oaths ever mentions criminal activity. But when they pledge complete loyalty to the brethren, it pulls them away from all of the norms and values of the rest of society. There’s no room for other loyalties. Robbing, beating, killing-it’s all allowed if it serves the purpose of the organization. And if it’s done to someone outside the circle.”
The more he got into it, the more animated Harry became, and the less restricted he seemed in his motion.
“You’re telling me we’re dealing with fanatics here.”
He shook his head. I was glad to see that he could.
“Not in the sense of being crazies. Just in the sense of being totally dedicated to the cause-which is the business of the tong.”
“What’s the difference between a tong and a triad?”
“The tongs originated in the United States or Canada. In many cases they were formed as branches of a triad by people who left Hong Kong or Taiwan.”
I was surprised. “Are they big in Canada?”
“Enormous. It’s easier to do the smuggling into Canada first and then into the United States.”
“Smuggling what?”
“Aliens, drugs, whatever. They bring over girls for the prostitution houses. They recruit young men, usually already criminals over there, for the youth gangs that are affiliated with the tongs. These people are illegal aliens, so the tong has a good grip on them.”
“What else are they into?”
“Every type of crime that’s profitable in the Chinese community. Extortion is everywhere. Everyone pays lomo, ‘lucky money’-shopkeepers, restaurants, even famous entertainers who come over from China to play in the Chinese theatres here. They also pander to the vices that exist in the community. Gambling has always been a way to escape the present with a chance for a different future. Drugs, particularly opium, go back centuries. It’s certainly not a large percentage of the people. But it’s enough for the tong to turn a good profit.
“The greatest protection the tongs have is that as long as they don’t bother anyone outside of Chinatown, whatever police and politicians they haven’t bought don’t get too excited about law enforcement. Then, too, they have the Chinese community so frightened of reprisals from their muscle, the youth gangs, that they won’t go to the police. Anyway, it’s sort of inbred in the Chinese to deal with their problems in their own community. They’ve learned not to expect much from the white system.”
I maneuvered through the circle of traffic that leads, for those who survive it, to the new openings of the so-called Big Dig that replaced the old Southeast Expressway.
“What percentage of the people are involved in the tongs?”
“Minimal. I don’t now the exact numbers, but it’s like asking what percentage of the Italian people are in the Mafia. The percentage is tiny. Most Chinese are incredibly peaceful, hardworking. They send their children to the best schools they can. They lead good, moral lives. There are infinitely more Chinese victims than criminals.”
“Tell me about the youth gangs, Harry. Were those gang members that got you?”
He nodded slowly. “That’s another institution. The tongs need enforcers, primarily for two purposes. They need protection for the gambling dens, and they need muscle for their extortion rackets. They’re like the replacement for the old hatchetmen.
“The youth gangs are perfect for that. They take in young recruits beginning anywhere from thirteen years old, up. Most poor communities have juvenile delinquents. But what makes these gangs especially powerful and controllable is the mystique of the triad trappings. They’re recruited by the tongs with the old triad initiation ceremonies and oaths of loyalty. Everything has a triad twist to it. For example, when they demand ransom or extortion money, the amount is generally in some multiple of 36 for the 36 oaths, or 108 for the original 108 Shaolin monks. This ‘secret society’ mystique is effective. It not only instills fear in the community, but it forges these delinquents into a disciplined gang.
“The way it works, each tong usually has its own youth gang as an affiliate of the tong. For example, one tong in New York had the Ghost Shadows. Another tong had the Flying Dragons. You don’t want to mess with either one.”
I pulled into a parking lot close to the Washington Street end of Beach Street. I liked the park-and-lock policy. Just in case we came out of that brothel at a dead run, ten steps ahead of thirty-six teenagers with hatchets, I didn’t want to wait for an attendant to fetch the car from the bowels of some garage.
We sat in the car for a minute. I wanted to get the plan straight before we walked into the neighborhood.
“So how do we do it, Harry?”
He turned slightly toward me and realized he was still better off looking straight ahead.
“There are a lot of little low-stakes gambling dens in Chinatown. They’re like family businesses. But the tong always runs one major high-stakes gambling den. It’s a twenty-four-hour-a-day operation. It’s like a giant bank for very serious gambling, drug deals, whatever. There’s a lot of money floating around inside. That’s where the tong is most vulnerable. That’s why a major function of the youth gang is guarding the den. I think I know where it is.”
“How?”
“I read the signals. Young, tough kids around the building. There’s usually just one slip of paper somewhere on the outside with two Chinese characters meaning ‘in action.’ I think I saw it.”