Ah Biu’s syndicate started trafficking heroin in the Fruit Market area in March 1975. Heroin peddling were carried out around Canton Road and Waterloo Road, and the neighbouring Tai Fat Store and the first floor of the Tai Loy Restaurant were used for meetings, dispensing bribes, and as a general command centre. The rear lanes surrounding the area and alleys inside the Fruit Market were the preferred drug transaction points. Occasionally the syndicate would hide small packets of “white powder” in the counter on the first floor of the Tai Loy to be picked up by the “field mines” - drug carriers who solicited business in the streets.
Rarely were heroin transactions handled “in person”. To avoid being caught red-handed, the traffickers would usually hide the drugs - in cracks in the wall, underneath staircases, below timber planks, inside wooden packing cases, etc - for customers to collect by themselves. Retired ICAC Principal Investigator Louis Cheung who had taken part in the Fruit Market investigations recalled: “The Yau Ma Tei Fruit Market was an ideal venue for running a drug trafficking business. It covered a vast area lined with numerous fruit stalls and stands that offered a huge number of heroin “mining (hiding) points”. Most people entering the market were familiar faces, so strangers were easily spotted. The Fruit Market was a warren of narrow lanes with countless cross-sections and passes, making it almost impossible for law enforcement officers to catch people on the run. There were also a lot of drug addicts in the area. Demand for drugs was huge, and the Fruit Market naturally became the drug addicts’ version of a watering hole.”
With law enforcement officers on the payroll and looking the other way, Ah Biu’s illicit enterprise began to boom. According to subsequent witness statements, business turnover for the drug syndicate was modest to begin with - about $1,000 a day. This included $100 or $200 earmarked for bribes, or “grease money.” In January 1976, the syndicate got an unexpected boost when Police anti-drug operations wiped out some major drug suppliers in Kowloon City. As a result, drug addicts from that part of the town crowded into Yau Ma Tei for their heroin fixes, boosting Ah Biu’s daily sales to tens of thousands of dollars. Prosecutors in the drug case later estimated Ah Biu’s syndicate at a certain period made between $30,000 and $70,000 a day, or a monthly average of almost $2 million.
Dealers and the corrupt officials who protected them went to elaborate lengths to conceal their collusion. Addicts were occasionally “caught” buying or carrying drugs. But these staged arrests were conspiracies between the syndicate and corrupt officers to present a picture to senior officers of vigorous law enforcement at the street level.
The Fruit Market was accessible from practically all sides and directions. Despite its accessibility, outsiders seldom entered the area because they would easily be recognised. Most were familiar faces. The place was a nightmare for law enforcement officers since the 'lookouts' of the syndicate would alert addicts to flee as soon as they spotted a suspicious car coming near. The place was a haven for the underworld and a 'watering hole' for the drug addicts.
Note:All names and nicknames given to the defendants and suspects in the story are fictitious. The restaurant and corner store referred to closed long ago.
The Yau Ma Tei Fruit Market case was a typical example of syndicated corruption.
Ah Biu said in his witness statement: “By offering ‘squeezes’ (bribes) we were assured of protection. I would pay whoever came to collect as long as he could prove he was a law enforcement officer or his representative. I’d never let them down.” Often Ah Biu didn’t wait for corrupt officers or their minions to come calling. He would take the initiative to befriend and enlist anyone with the power to protect his business.
To reduce the risk of collusion, police officers would usually be rotated to different duties, posts, squads every six months or so. Ah Biu and his accomplices later described to ICAC investigators how police sergeants would sometimes notify them of their transfers, and even introduce them to their successors who would “inherit” the privilege of the receiving the “squeezes”.
Tony Lui, a key member of the investigation team then and now an ICAC Principal Investigator, explained: “To offer ‘squeeze’ means to offer bribes - which are also called ‘grease money’ or ‘black money’ in Chinese. The Yau Ma Tei Fruit Market case was special for so many parties were involved in collecting bribes. Some sergeants collected bribes directly from Ah Hung, the ‘squeeze paymaster’ while some other groups would designate a collector to ‘open an account’ with Ah Hung, with the intention of collecting regular and fixed amount of bribe at agreed times. Each bribe ranged from less than HK$100 to much higher amounts each week, depending on the bargaining power of each corruption syndicate. Those of higher ranking and greater authority naturally demanded for a larger sum, but Ah Biu had the final say on the amounts while Ah Hung took care of the actual payments.”
Tony continued: “Corruption was rampant in the 60s and 70s. Accepting and offering bribes was a way of life for the corrupt. With the ICAC still in its nascent years, the notion that corrupt officers would be put behind bars for graft did not naturally come to their minds.”
On 10 August 1976, the Police Narcotics Bureau raided 23 locations in Kowloon and the New Territories, arresting seven men and one woman, including Ah Biu at the Tai Loy Restaurant and Ah Hung near the Tai Fat Store. About $20,000 worth of heroin was also seized, along with five accounts books detailing the drug racket’s transactions for the past three months. Other accomplices were netted one after another and charged with drug trafficking.
Ah Biu had thought bribes could buy him immunity from the law - and for some time he appeared to be right. But the raids and arrests began to unravel his corrupt world. Realising the helplessness of his situation, Ah Biu decided after careful consideration to reveal the shocking extent of law enforcement corruption and asked for a meeting with ICAC officers.
All names and nicknames given to the defendants and suspects in the story are fictitious. The restaurant and corner store referred to in the story were closed long ago.