by Nick James
It was a brightly lit place and very well kept. I could see what looked like Miss Li’s parents manning the front of house. I watched the place for a couple of hours. It had a steady trade and the people seemed to be happy. I climbed out of my car, slammed the door and walked towards the takeaway.
Bing bong the door chimed, making the pair look up. ‘Good evening, sir. What you like?’ asked Mr Li with a toothy grin.
The place was decorated in red and gold with the typical waving cat on the counter. I noticed a picture of them both in police uniforms of the Hong Kong Constabulary. ‘Good evening, Mr and Mrs Li, my name is Albert Kettering,’ I said with what I hoped was a curious tone, as I’ve been told I can be a bit brusque. ‘I hope you don’t mind, but I need some information for our files.’ I instantly saw their smiles drop. They were both the same size as their daughter, but the look they wore showed that they had worked the streets as cops.
‘What you want, what files?’ Mrs Li barked in her accented voice, stepping closer. ‘Who you think you are? You police?’
‘Oh, pardon my manners. It’s for your daughter’s partner’s job. We need to do some security checks,’ I explained while doing my best to keep a level tone. But they didn’t budge, not even a nerve flickered in their faces. ‘What are your first names, please?’ At this, the air stilled and their faces became even harder than before. Who are these bloody people? I thought.
They looked at each other and started to converse in Chinese before turning back to me. ‘Why you ask? They not married,’ said the wife, staring daggers at me. ‘Sam a good man. Why all these checks?’
‘Yes, he is a good man. But, Mrs Li, we just need a few more details?’ I asked, rubbing my hand over my bald head, wondering why I had driven all this way, hundreds of miles, for this.
‘You ask Sam already. What about Bunny?’ Mr Li demanded, making a vein bulge in his neck. Even though he was a small man, he had a strong look about him.
As I nodded furiously, the sounds of knives being slid out of blocks rang out. Well, that’s what my mind was telling me, but in my gut I knew I had to do this. Everyone else had answered the questions, so why not them? ‘Yes, I asked them your names and what you did in Hong Kong, but I got nothing back.’ It was like talking to rocks, no emotion at all, no wonder Goddard hated their daughter.
Bing bong the door chimed again.
A man walked in who was almost completely round. ‘Hiya, Mum and Dad,’ he said with a big smile. He seemed to sweat from just talking.
There was an instant change to the husband and wife team. ‘Freddy, your order is ready,’ Mr Li said happily. He then took a bag out of the warmer and handed it to the walking heart attack.
‘Bye, Dad.’ He chuckled and went to walk out. ‘Make sure you treat Mum well.’ Bing bong as the door released the man who walked off into the night and his upcoming death.
As the man disappeared, so did the smiles on the Lis’ faces. ‘I understand Sam nearly got murdered by a colleague of yours. Our Bunny saved him,’ Mrs Li stated angrily in almost perfect English. I nodded. ‘You think our names would have stopped this?’ she added.
Blood was now pounding in my head. These fucking people had no emotions. Every word was cold. ‘I…just…need…your…first…names,’ I said, trying to rein in my temper. This was why I had to leave my old job.
That’s when Mrs Li leaned across and looked at me directly with a steely gaze. ‘You can call us Mum and Dad,’ she said slowly as her husband was handed a large cleaver through a shutter to the kitchen.
I held up my hands trying to placate them, but I tried to push one more time. ‘We do these checks on all our employees. I just—’
Then suddenly the father slammed his fist on the counter, causing the waving cat to jump. His fingers gripped the cleaver, the wooden handle creaking under the strain. ‘I not like this. You fuck off now,’ Mr Li spat angrily.
I shook my head. ‘I don’t know what’s wrong with you people. Maybe I should just sack him,’ I shot back as my temper once again got the better of me. I then realised saying that was a mistake.
The little woman walked around the counter and looked up at me with hate in her eyes. ‘Sam is good boy. Threaten my family, and we will come for you,’ she said, lapsing into her broken English. Then, with a speed that belied her age, she punched me in my groin, making me double over.
As I hit the white tiled floor, I heard the kitchen door open. Men young and old came flooding in and dragged me outside into the dark Birmingham night.
My eyes fluttered, but I saw Mrs Li kneeling by my head.
‘We know you now. Hurt Sam or Bunny, we find you…Mr Kettering,’ she hissed and stood up. ‘We have friends, too.’
That was the first and only time I saw a size four Croc shoe flying at my head and then pushing me into the realms of darkness. At least when I regained consciousness, I was in my car with all my money and some egg fried rice. I thought about going back in there, but luckily common sense won the day. London here I come.
I was about halfway into the journey south, the rhythmic sound of the motorway was singing me a sweet lullaby, the side window down to allow in some revitalising fresh air. I drew it into my lungs and onto my shiny head. Clearly, I was astounded at how the evening had gone. I had worked for the MI6 and the Home Office for years, yet what defeats me is an elderly couple in a bloody Chinese takeaway.
I managed to connect with some of my old colleagues, but even they were warned off or just came back with the names Mum and Dad Li. Plots and plans ran through my mind until I found myself pulling into the cul-de-sac and then my driveway. The house was glowing with all the lights on behind the curtained window. Thankfully, that meant my darling wife of twenty-odd years was waiting for me.
I walked into our nicely warmed house. ‘Dawny, I’m home,’ I called out and threw my wallet and keys into the idiot bowl by the door. My thought was that if they want to nick your car let them, don’t allow them to run around your house looking for the keys.
‘Hey, Alby, how did it go?’ she called from the kitchen where I could hear the kettle boiling. The cup of tea I’m sure she had made me called like a meringue to a diabetic.
I opened the door and saw her smiling at me. ‘It was shit. They didn’t budge at all.’ I sighed and checked out my wife. Dawn was wearing her normal flannel ankle-length robe and looked fine. She was a small, curvy woman with short salt-and-pepper hair, but her smile could light up the planet at times.
‘Well, don’t worry about it, Alby. Get some PI back in Hong Kong to dig out that Bunny’s birth certificate, or their marriage one. It’s sometimes the simplest course of action that’s the right one,’ Dawn said. She then giggled as I hugged her.
We kissed. The passion was still there after all these years of marriage. As the want and need of each other built up, our cat Binky Senior left us to our lovemaking. I guessed he was pissed off again as he was once pushed off the kitchen table, but it wasn’t for the consuming of food this time.
Chapter 12
Sam Blades
Finally, the weekend. ‘Woohoo, motherfuckers!’ I cried out as I woke up and rolled over to take my woman, which is my right. Well, until that same woman grabbed hold of my favourite childhood toy and squeezed. ‘Too early,’ I muttered.
She answered with a quick twist, ‘Yes, sleep or die.’
And with her encouragement I decided to enjoy a throbbing lie in, until the sun shone through our curtains. I should really think before I pounce. Damn you, James Bond, for giving me all those ideas. It was just like Christmas all over again. My darling Bunny just isn’t a morning person.
I tried to roll out of bed about 10am, but not once did she relax her grip on my boys. I knew she was sleeping by her breathing, but her claws stayed dug in. She missed her calling as a dominatrix, but she always claimed being paid to hurt someone spoilt her fun. That was one conversation I never wanted to have again, as it ended with her coming out in her play gear, including the cape
. Unfortunately, I don’t bruise easily, so she had to work hard to leave her mark. In all my time with her, I was never offered the use of a safe word. Make of that what you wish.
Bunny did claim on a drunken night of play that my lack of bruising was one of the main things that made her love me. Personally, I think it’s my looks and sense of humour, but the world needs all types of people to make it turn – and that’s why we do not want to download our dreams.
Over the weekend we visited the place where I scattered my brother’s ashes. I had held on to them for way too long. We went to the woods by our childhood home; he was always happier in the woods playing than at school. The wood itself was always full of pheasants and deer, which he loved to watch. He just hated school, and in the end the school agreed with his surmise.
Bunny’s parents phoned and told us about a man called Kettering who was rude and demanded answers. My girlfriend was laughing on the other end of the phone as her father described how her mother punched him in the groin, then kicked him wearing her Crocs and was now sporting a broken toe. And because he laughed, her father had a broken finger and a black eye. Never laugh at the Li women. I’m still trying to learn that lesson.
I looked on in shock as she recounted the story of that night. The Li’s had a very physical sense of humour. The phone call from my mum had a different theme. Not sure where she was this time, but by the sounds of it they used coconuts as phones. She sent her love, but mainly to Bunny. She spoke to me for five minutes and Bunny for fifteen, making sure I was treating my girlfriend okay, but I’m pretty sure she knows – I am her son.
Sunday came around and it was time for Mark and Kate’s BBQ. They had just moved to a place in West Ham.
‘Okay, remember, no fights,’ I said, looking at my girlfriend, who just rolled her eyes as we settled in a cab.
‘Listen, Kate and I have agreed that they were just silly little disagreements. It will be fine,’ she said grumpily, waving away my concerns.
Although, I did notice that she was wearing jeans and a top: good fighting clothes. We did try to invite our copper friends along as Sharon and I had bonded over some film nights. Mainly zombie ones. She even said that her taser was left at home now. I think she loves me, or at least tolerates me. I hope Bunny doesn’t find out. Anyway, unfortunately they had to work. Shame, I could use the protection.
We arrived at the nice little terraced house, which was their first home together. By the sounds of it they were happy; Mark had confided in me that they were planning a wedding for next year. We both hoped that the girls had turned a corner in their relationship, but there were some lingering doubts if we were honest with ourselves.
Bunny and I hugged and kissed the hosts, just like they do on TV. Mark enjoyed it way too much for my liking. I may be paranoid, but I think he nibbled my earlobe as we hugged. I hoped I was wrong and that he was my mate and just batshit crazy.
They introduced us to their friends. We were a hit. Who knew that nearly being murdered and actually killing someone with a sword made you so popular? We were the king and queen of the party. Okay, maybe Bunny was the queen and I was just some bloke who ranted on about a useless clownfish. The party was nice though, and the spread was to die for. The amount of drinks the crowd were consuming meant a death was possible. As I looked at all the food, I almost salivated onto my shoes. There was Moroccan leg of lamb straight off the bone, burgers, chicken and finally kebabs on skewers. And, of course, somebody snuck in a salad – there’s always one.
We were paraded around like show ponies for the guests. There were bankers, models and a scattering of unemployed actors and actresses, which meant a few restaurants would be short-staffed that day. I got talking to a model who was no bigger than my leg. She was telling me about all the things she was going to do in her life after modelling: singing, then be an actress on TV and then star in a movie. But all I could think of was an old TV programme where the character wanted to write and star in a show and also write and sing the theme tune. It didn’t help when I started to chuckle about it while she was describing how her pug, Justin, had been run over by a taxi.
But, if truth be told, I was having a nice time. As I saw my darling girlfriend laughing and drinking with Kate and her way too tall friends, I thought this might be a perfect day. The wind did pick up, though, which concerned me because some of the models could blow away. Now I know why they always hold their phones in their hands: to weigh themselves down.
I can’t help it really; I just like to people-watch. But this is where I blame myself. I should have been watching the amount of drinks Bunny and Kate were consuming. Also, all the things that could be used as weapons.
Mark and I chatted about our new accounts at work as well as Kettering visiting Bunny’s mum. He agreed it was well out of order, and then took my hand (WTF) and said, ‘Just don’t go all Goddard over him. He is a director, after all.’
I felt hurt. ‘I don’t know what you mean – but just in case I do, I’ll play nicey-nicey with Gonad Head Kettering,’ I said happily, noticing Bunny and Kate chatting away happily like best friends. ‘But he has to back off from Bunny’s parents. They’re scary when they get pissed off.’ I visibly shivered.
‘I thought they had let that go,’ said Mark.
I nodded whilst taking a drink. ‘Me, too, but hopefully being beaten up by the smallest and angriest woman in the world, apart from Bunny, should do it,’ I said, making us both laugh.
We then chatted about the mystery man on the forbidden top floor, but we had nothing, and that’s when we heard the first comment as the party stilled.
‘Can you people eat lamb?’ Kate asked Bunny.
Mark and I groaned. With the beauty of hindsight, we should have started to move. But we are men. And, quite honestly, we were drunk men.
Bunny frowned. ‘Er… What do you mean by…you people?’
Kate swayed and giggled with her friends. ‘Well, you know, Chinkies. Can you eat lamb?’ she asked as Mark and I battled towards them. I’m pretty sure he pushed over a toddler, or a dwarf.
I heard my girlfriend’s tone go cold. ‘You know I am from Hong Kong…right? We talked about this’ she answered, looking up with a twisted smile. ‘And, yes, my people can eat lamb.’
Kate pulled her into a drunken hug. ‘Oh calm down, little one. You’re with grown-ups now.’ As Kate and her friends laughed, Bunny pushed her away and caught my eye. I could’ve sworn she winked at me before picking up the lovely leg of lamb and wrapping it around Kate’s head, dropping her instantly.
We were still trying to reach them, but it was already too late. The air seemed to turn to porridge, slowing our progress.
That’s when it all kicked off. Some bloke whose collar was pointing to the heavens called Tarquin, I think, and whose Daddy owns half of Scotland tried to grab Bunny, but he only managed to see my forehead crushing his nose. My Hong Kong rose was now punching a runway model/singer in the throat. Bye bye album deal that she was sleeping towards.
It got really messy after that and I don’t remember much. I know Sharon and Bethany were called. They whisked Bunny away before the local cops turned up. Then Mark and I took ourselves to A & E. As we tried to part our beloveds, we both were skewered, myself in the shoulder and Mark in the thigh.
As we chatted and bled, we decided it could’ve been a lot worse. After all, no one died – that we found out about. According to the texts from our drunken partners, they were sorry, and it was our fault they drank too much. Love – you can’t beat it.
I spoke to Sharon and Bethany and luckily no one decided to press charges, so we could enjoy the rest of the weekend to heal, and make Bunny feel bad. But who was I kidding? She didn’t give a shit about killing someone, so causing GBH with a Moroccan leg of lamb wouldn’t even touch her.
Chapter 13
Mai Lee
Limping Dragon
‘Thank you for coming, Miss Lee,’ said Ming-Hua Chow, sitting in the lounge above the casino. He was the
leader of the London-based Chinese organised crime family.
I bowed. ‘It is my pleasure, sir. You were lucky to catch me. I was about to head back to Hong Kong tonight before heading home,’ I explained, crossing my long legs as we both settled down.
The small man smiled and dipped his head. ‘Indeed, but the leadership has agreed to lend us your talents,’ he explained before sliding a file over to me. ‘We want you to look into this man. He is supposedly the financial backer for the company your friend works for.’ A faint smile appeared on both our faces. He was your typical psychotic businessman; no friends and surrounding himself with women whose ages matched their IQs.
I flicked through the paperwork. ‘How deep am I looking? Just information or is he to be checked out for a hit?’ I asked, brushing some lint off my leather catsuit. Mikey did like me in it; he would be over the moon that I was staying for longer.
The old man, who resembled an ancient monk, put some thought into this. This wasn’t because he didn’t know. You should always take your time to answer any question in order to put on the front of being wise. ‘We have had a few run-ins with the man and he is becoming troublesome, so do a full check on him. Make sure you research all avenues, just in case,’ he said in his ancient magical tones.
I stood up and bowed. ‘It shall be done, sir.’ I then went to walk out.
‘Oh, Miss Lee, pass our thanks on to your friend. His services have brought us some good income,’ he said with a smile.
‘Thank you, I shall let him know.’ I departed and headed downstairs where I saw the saucy temptress. ‘Suzie Q, a word?’
The perverted coat checker tottered over in her four-inch heels. ‘Yes, you stay and play with Tiger and I tonight?’ she asked.
‘I’ll ask Mikey, though he was limping this morning.’ I laughed as we had played rock paper scissors to see who would be the man that night. He lost…badly. ‘He’ll be surprised because I was meant to be leaving, but I have another job.’
