ADA LEUNG
Open it. Quickly, please. Three more bags before lunch, and she goes for the zipper first. A fake bag takes her four seconds.
"Open it. Quickly, please." Ada Leung has three more bags to get through before lunch and yours is not special. She is small, brisk, sleeves rolled, and she does not stand behind the podium; she comes round it. Hong Kong runs a normal line, and Leung runs it at a pace the line does not usually see.
Her subject is handbags. Hong Kong sells everything, and most of it is real, and the rest is very convincing, and Leung is the person who decides which is which. She goes for the zipper first, then the stitching, then the weight of the chain. A fake bag from the Nothing to Declare bundle takes her about four seconds. She is not smug about it. She is already on the next one.
She has no interest in your sneakers or your watches or the graphics cards you bought cheap by the harbor, which is most of what leaves Hong Kong. She has some interest in why you are sweating.
Declare and she stamps it without looking up. Bluff and she finds it, or she does not, and either way you will be out of her hall in under a minute.