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By Christopher Ip and Farah Master

MACAU, Dec 1 (Reuters) – Notorious Macau gangster Wan

“Broken Tooth” Kuok-koi emerged from jail on Saturday morning

into a very different gambling haven than the one he bullied in

the late-1990s.

Imprisoned for close to 15 years inside the enclave’s high

security prison, the former triad leader was escorted out by two

police officers before being whisked into a white Lexus driven

by two men dressed in black. Wearing trousers and a long-sleeved

white shirt, Wan ignored requests for comment from a crowd of

more than 50 journalists who had gathered outside.

Wan’s release comes just after China appointed a new

leadership body at a Chinese Communist Party Congress this month

where corruption was a dominant theme. Beijing has in recent

months sent strong signals to Macau authorities to tighten

regulation and promote responsible gaming in the world’s casino

capital.

It’s a far cry from more than a decade ago when Wan, who is

in his late 50s, and other triad gangsters ran amok during the

final days of Portuguese rule of this southern Chinese outcrop.

The bloody gangland turf wars are a thing of the past, but

Macau, transformed into a booming, glitzy strip of casinos,

malls and hotels – many owned by U.S. tycoons such as Sheldon

Adelson and Steve Wynn – retains a murky underbelly where

dubious money transfers are commonplace and the shadow of triad

gangs still hangs.

Triads, or Chinese organised crime societies, remain a vital

cog in the gambling industry, as intermediaries and junket

operators – recruiting and transporting high-rollers and

offering credit and recovering debts around the highly lucrative

VIP gaming rooms.

The leading junkets make billions of dollars from Macau’s

gambling industry, bringing in over 70 percent of total gambling

revenue – which has soared to $33.5 billion, five times that of

Las Vegas, from just $1.7 billion in Wan’s heyday. As the money

has rolled in, the junket operators have diversified into

movies, property and stockbroking.

The once monopolistic casino empire of gambling tycoon

Stanley Ho has opened up to the Las Vegas big-hitters, but Wan’s

14K triad, its branches and rival gangs are still active in

Macau, say people close to the industry.

“The triads retain some kind of influence in the majority of

the VIP rooms,” said a security executive at one of Macau’s

leading casinos, who was not authorised to speak to the media.

“We know there’s influence because we see them around the casino

floor, inside the VIP rooms. It’s not an offence. Unless the

police can prove money laundering, they can stay there.”

TAKING NO CHANCES

It’s not known whether Wan – who was jailed for more than 14

years for attempted murder, loan sharking and money laundering –

will return to the business.

Wan’s swift exit from the hilltop prison, nestled on a small

island a short drive from the neon casino lights, is a marked

difference to his heyday when he courted media attention and

helped produce a movie called “Casino” about a self-styled triad

boss waging violent street battles for control of Macau’s

casinos.

Wan’s family members, lawyers and former associates declined

to comment on his plans, though his brother Kuok-hung – himself

jailed for five years in 1999 – has carved out a career in the

VIP junket business. Wan was visited in jail by his brother and

mother earlier this week.

While few predict Wan’s release will spark a return to

Macau’s darker days, the authorities are taking no chances.

Last weekend, a number of Wan’s former associates were

arrested in a sting operation on suspicion of planning to commit

murder. One of those picked up was former police officer Artur

Chiang Calderon, who was first arrested in 1998 with Wan over a

string of bomb attacks and bloody gang wars.

“We are well equipped to handle all situations,” a

spokeswoman for Macau’s judiciary police said, amid local media

reports of tightened security and vigilance at casinos.

“This is Beijing. They want to send a strong message by

doing this,” said a senior casino executive.

Kenny Leong, chief executive of Nasdaq-listed Asia

Entertainment and Resources Ltd and one of Macau’s

leading VIP gambling room promoters, did not expect much impact

from Wan’s freedom. “Things are completely different now.

Everything is more professionally managed,” he said.

“It’s a different era from before. Right now, the time is

not hitting and killing.”

Wan, a stocky man with often garish sartorial taste, is said

to be unable to straighten the middle two fingers of one hand

after being mangled by meat cleavers in a street fight. Locals

say he was a common sight, driving around Macau in a mauve

Ferrari.

“He was very, very influential in his time,” said a former

head of criminal intelligence in the Hong Kong police force, who

specialised in anti-triad enforcement. “He was influential

because of fear. He was extremely violent and took over a lot of

businesses in a violent manner.”

Earlier this week, a new, white Toyota Vellfire spacewagon

pulled out of a gated compound and wound its way up to the

heavily-fortified hilltop prison, where a stylish lady with long

hair and dark glasses stepped out with a shy-looking,

bespectacled teenage son wearing sneakers.

After an hour-long visit, Wan’s wife and son declined

comment when asked by Reuters how they felt about being reunited

as a family. “I have nothing to say,” said Wan’s wife.