The warm evening breeze wafted inland off the now-quiet Victoria Harbor.  The lights dotting the waterfront glistened and sparkled across the dark waters like so many stars in the night sky.  Laszlo certainly was familiar with Hong Kong - from Ap Lei Chau to the Kowloon Penninsula, but tonight the mysteries of the "Fragrant Harbor" seemed as murky and as unsettling as ever.

He walked along Connaught Road and the smells and sounds coming from the many food stalls that lined the road reminded him of how far from his home in Brazil he was.  He stood head and shoulders above the sea of natives that streamed through the streets both day and night.  His stature, combined with his handsome dark features, made him an imposing figure indeed.

As he rounded the corner onto the dimly lit Queen Victoria Street he began to feel unease in his surroundings.  He stood in the open doorway of house number 82 and tried to focus on what he saw inside.  The tell-tale fumes of opium told him all he needed to know.  With the paper lantern above the door washing everything in a red glow, Laszlo made out the shadows of someone quickly moving from one room to the next down the long hallway in front of him.  

Just then the first door on his left swung open and he saw a group of lavishly costumed elderly Chinese women gathered around a small table.  He heard the dull, familiar sound of Mahjong tiles being shuffled as a phonograph in the corner of the room played a scratchy Cantonese opera.  As Laszlo stepped inside the small room, the women fell silent and without a word spoken began to deal out tiles for him to play.   

Made of Bakelite, these Vintage Mahjong Tiles date from the 1940's and are in excellent condition.