Kiss and Die

by Lee Weeks

  Chapter 13

  Lilly stood up and slow clapped Mann’s speech. She pushed the girl in front; the whole row collapsed amidst lots of giggling. Lilly looked across at Tammy and grinned. Tammy had felt the tension grow in the hall. Now Lilly’s eyes lingered on Tammy as if she knew. Tammy grinned back. Mann got down from the stage and called Lilly over. They were left alone in the hall.

  ‘Sit down.’

  Lilly sat and looked around the room as if she were bored.

  ‘Tell me, Lilly, what’s a bright girl like you doing coming out of a Triad initiation ceremony?’

  She turned and stared hard at him, tried to read his expression. Her eyes were the colour of caramel. She had freckles across her nose. Her skin was light. She was taller than most girls her age.

  ‘I saw you coming out of the building where the girl got murdered last night.’ Mann could see from the way her eyes had stopped seeing him that her thoughts were backtracking. For a second she looked worried and then she rolled her eyes and looked at her nails, chewed off a bit of loose skin, made her finger bleed, and smiled as she looked at him as she sucked the blood from her finger.

  ‘Not me, Officer. I was at home last night doing my homework. Now, if you don’t mind I have a lesson to go to. You know what it’s like for us mixed-race kids – we have to work hard. We don’t all have our dad’s money to fall back on.’ She went to stand.

  ‘Sit. You’ll go when I say.’

  She sat back down with a groan and looked at her watch.

  ‘Let me explain something to you. You’re in shit up to your neck. The girl who died last night was mutilated, her hands cut off before she had her throat severed.’

  Lilly snapped her head as she looked at him. ‘I wasn’t there.’

  ‘But you were in the area. What do you think happens when people play with Triads, Lilly?’ Mann watched her. ‘What do you think you are going to get from all this? They’re playing with you, Lilly. It could be you next week lying in your own blood. They’re just sitting back and waiting and watching and enjoying the spectacle of kids like you killing one another. You’re disposable.’

  A crack appeared in Lilly’s bravado. She looked towards the hall entrance, agitated, fidgety. She went to stand again.

  Mann pushed her back in her seat. ‘We can continue this at the police station if you like or we can do it here. What’s the big global message they’re selling you, Lilly? Somehow I don’t think a designer handbag is what you’re in this for. Tell me, Lilly. You want to belong, don’t you? You want to leave your mark on the world but this is not the way.’

  She blew an ‘I don’t give a fuck’ out of the corner of her mouth. But he could see her bravado starting to dissolve. She was just a scared little girl. From the corner of his eye, Mann saw the headmaster standing at the edge of the stage. He knew he’d gone far enough without taking her in. He knew there would be no point in doing that. She would say nothing; she’d be a lot more frightened of her Triad masters than she would be of the police.

  ‘All right, Lilly, you can go, but it won’t be the last we see of each other. I will be watching every move you make from now on.’

  Lilly got up from her seat in her own time and she pushed the chair back noisily, it grated across the floor, and then as she walked past Mann she stopped in front of him. She smiled up at him. ‘Go ahead. I like being watched.’

  Lilly left the hall and caught up with Tammy on the stairs.

  ‘Hey, what did you think of the talk?’ she shouted as the din of the girls hurrying on to their next class filled the stairwell.

  ‘Yeah…it was…’

  ‘Exactly – bullshit.’

  ‘Were you there?’

  Lilly nodded.

  ‘What was it like? Did you see the girl get killed?’

  Lilly shook her head. Tammy wasn’t sure whether she believed her or not.

  ‘Doesn’t it worry you, Lilly? Don’t you wonder if they might do that to you?’

  Lilly shrugged. They stepped out of the way as other kids passed them. ‘It won’t happen to me. She must have done something bad. We are told the rules. She must have broken them. It serves her right. There’s a code. Anyway, it’s worth it. You’ll see. It will be your time soon.’

  They were stood at the long window, overlooking the car park below. Tammy glanced down at Mann walking across to his old BMW. A part of her wished she could go with him, another knew she had a job to do and it would be worth it. Lilly followed her gaze.

  ‘He’s hot. It would be great to get him in bed.’ Lilly laughed at her expression. ‘Sure…I’ve had other policemen. In the evenings I see them in the bars. I can always spot them. They have this way of looking at everything. They don’t relax. But him…’ she watched Mann drive off, ‘…I see him out a lot, but never with a woman. He’s a loner.’

  ‘How did you know that about his father?’

  Lilly was proud of herself. She had put Mann on the spot. ‘Everyone in the Mansions knows about him. He’s the bent gweilo cop. He takes bribes.’

  Tammy had a hard job not showing what she felt. There was no way Mann took bribes. He was one of those cops that would cross the line when it meant bringing someone to justice but he would never cross it for his own gain.

  Lilly laughed at the look on Tammy’s face. ‘What? What, does he mean something to you? Do you fancy him?’

  Tammy shook her head in disgust.

  ‘He pretends to be a big moral man; really he’s as dirty as they come.’

  They stared out at the last of Mann’s tail lights as he drove out of the car park.

  Chapter 14

  Mann headed back to Headquarters. The Organized Crime and Triad Bureau was spread over two floors, he was on the upper level. He’d been in the bureau for four years on and off. The off was ten months banished to the hinterland of the New Territories because of his tendency to piss off anyone who mattered in the police hierarchy. But the truth was, they needed him. They didn’t want to but they did. No one was as devoted as Mann to catching Triads. No one hated the cancer in the Chinese society more than him. But then, no one else had his reasons.

  He fed his card into the slot, took the escalators that were surrounded by so much glass they seemed to be outside, fed his card into another slot and then took the lift up to the twenty-third floor.

  He negotiated the last security check, an enclosed glass turnstile affair that provided bombproof screens between the stairs and the department, and then he walked along the usual police corridors, the same anywhere in the world: abandoned file cabinets, fluorescent strip lights overhead and thin, stained carpets underfoot. A no frills environment, not softened with decoration, only the odd plant managed to survive on the ledge along the corridor.

  The floor was laid out with offices around the outside, interview rooms, identity parade suite in the centre.

  Ng and Shrimp were out of the office. Mann needed to clear his head. He picked up yesterday’s sandwich from his desk and took the elevator to the top floor, and then the fire escape up onto the roof. It’s where he always came to think. He needed head space now more than ever.

  From below the sound of traffic was building. His eyes searched the horizon and spotted what he was looking for. He took a deep breath of smog-free air and smiled as he watched an eagle ride the air currents and circle over the buildings nearby. It flew by his window sometimes. It looked at him. It pitied him. It was free, ruler of the skies. Mann would have given anything to be able to jump on its back and fly away. He saw its mate on the horizon. They paired for life. He did not envy them that. He never wanted to feel the heavy burden of being in love, of caring too much, ever again.

  He walked across the roof, past the massive tanks and noisy air conditioners that kept Headquarters’ heart beating and lungs breathing. He broke the sandwich in two and laid the pieces out on the parapet before turning his back to the sun and walking across to the dummy. He smiled when he saw it. Shrimp had obviously been using it. He had
dressed it in a seventies Hawaiian shirt and Bermuda shorts. It made for a good target. Mann walked away from the dummy, took off his jacket and left it hanging over a pipe. Across his chest he had the sets of shuriken. His throwing stars. Each set contained ten. Each one of the ten was different from the others. Different in size and in design. They were weighted to wound, maim or kill. The smaller shuriken were perfect for disabling an opponent. They could be fired several at a time and do serious damage to several opponents at once. The bigger the set the more deadly until the ultimate – the death star. There was just the one. He carried it in its own pouch but he did not carry it routinely. He had designed it himself; it was a thing of beauty and of precision. But he could only fire it once. It had to find its target. It was silent, deadly and able to arc in the air so that it could curve around the side of a wall. It could cut a man’s head off.

  Mann picked out the spikes from the sleeve on his arm, turned and ran towards the dummy; finding his mark he let fly the throwing spikes as he picked up pace. Three spikes embedded in its face, the other three across its chest. Mann turned at the sound of giant wings. The eagle kept one eye on him as it walked across the parapet. It picked up one half of the sandwich in its beak whilst grasping the other in its talons and it gave one last look at Mann before it dropped off the edge and turned and glided effortlessly away, the sun on the tips of its wings.

  ‘How big is that eagle’s wingspan?’ It was not a question. ‘Can I join you?’ Mia came to stand beside him. She knew where he’d be.

  ‘Sure.’ Mann picked up a discarded feather from the eagle’s tail. ‘It’s a black-eared kite eagle. Huge wingspan, weak legs, that’s why it spends most of the time soaring on the air currents. See the way it moves in the air? There’s no other bird like it for manoeuvrability. It’s all in the tail feathers, like a rudder but far more sophisticated. I could watch it for hours.’ He glanced across at her. ‘What is it, Mia? You didn’t come up here to talk about eagles.’

  ‘I know things are tough for you at the moment, Mann, but I have faith in you. I wanted to add something to what Sheng said. I know he’s not the best at putting stuff into words.’

  ‘That’s because he’s a twat.’

  Mia shrugged and looked away for a minute. ‘Yeah, you’re probably right. But even so he has a point. You are the best one for the job. It was a terrible thing finding out about your father but you can turn it to good. You want to make a difference, Mann. You could play with fire. You could step over to the dark side for a while.’

  Mann looked at her to see if she was serious. She was.

  ‘You have the connections. Use them. Jump into the lions’ den. This is your chance to put your connections to good use. Go and see CK.’

  Chapter 15

  CK Leung stood at the window, staring down at Hong Kong’s harbour. He was a slim, upright figure, narrow shouldered in a traditional black Chinese suit. His hair was silvered at the temples, neat, short at the neck before it touched the edge of his mandarin collar. He was watching the afternoon sun as it ignited the dark blue waters and blazed against the skyscraper walls. From the top floor of the Leung Corporation building he had a first-class view. A view like that didn’t come cheap but CK could afford it. He was one of the wealthiest men in a place where the term wealthy was pushed to new parameters. Hong Kong was long famed for having the most Bentleys per square mile and the most billionaires. Lots of it was Triad-connected money. Triads had been in Chinese society for centuries, originally they did some good and supported the people but after the Cultural Revolution they turned to crime. Now they were the Chinese mafia. They ran minibus companies, taxi firms and laundered their money through nightclubs and film companies. CK was the biggest Triad boss in Hong Kong, the Dragon Head of the Wo Shing Shing – the largest Triad society, not just in Hong Kong, but fast spreading to the rest of the world. CK was a great opportunist, always looking for new ways to make money, always ahead of the game. Right now the Wo Shing Shing was leading the world in pirate computer programs and child pornography.

  The PA gave a flustered protest as he stood in the doorway and attempted to stop Mann from getting through. He hadn’t a hope in hell of stopping him and he knew it. They had met on a few occasions and they weren’t pleasant memories for the PA. Now CK allowed him to save face. ‘Let him enter.’

  He shrieked as Mann’s shoulder caught him and knocked him back against the doorframe.

  ‘Sorry,’ Mann grinned, pulling him upright by his tie. ‘Didn’t see you there.’

  Mann stood in the entrance and looked across the dimly lit office: plush, chrome, cool black and dark mahogany, a mix of carved Chinese furniture and elegant Western style. Lamps lit the enclaves: calculated chic. The cold in the room hit Mann full frontal; it was like a fridge.

  Mann’s Armani soles made no sound as he walked across the black wood floor. The room was silent except for the low growl of the oxygen machine as it sucked in air, re-oxygenated it, and blew it out in an exasperated ‘Pah’.

  CK turned from the window just long enough to gesture that Mann should sit.

  Now, as he leant back in the cool folds of the black Italian chair and felt it cradle him like a baby, he was not sure he should have come. His jet black hair fell as a broken crow’s wing across his espresso pool eyes. In this chair, in this place, he found some comfort. Here he had something real and alive to hate, not a ghost, not a memory, not a nightmare. He had CK. Mann sat back in the chair and rocked gently. He turned his head towards the oxygen machine. He breathed in deeply as it breathed out. Pah.

  CK turned away from the window and came to sit opposite Mann. Like everything about the room, the polished black mahogany desk was uncluttered by personal touches: a writing block, a laptop, but no photos of family. CK began slowly nodding his head as if answering an unspoken question. His expression hardly ever changed, only his eyes betrayed his humour; they changed from bitter chocolate to churned-up riverbed green.

  Mann looked across at his enemy.

  ‘The Outcasts…ring a bell? The new branch of the Wo Shing Shing. You recruiting from the kindergarten now, CK? From the minorities? What’s going on? You running short of people to recruit?’

  CK gave a dismissive wave of the hand. ‘I do not want to talk about such petty aspects of business. I know nothing of street matters. I do not handle recruitment. I leave that to others. But there will always be those marginalized in society, those who need the help of their brothers. Society must look to itself for the rise of the Triads.’

  Mann sat back and surveyed CK. ‘A leader must still know where his armies are at all times. It will always be his job to approve changes. You must have approved the birth of the Outcasts. Who is in charge? The rumours have it that your daughter Victoria Chan is heading it.’

  ‘A man can only rise to be the head of an organization by delegating, by trusting those beneath him to do their jobs. The tiers beneath him must be made strong to take his weight. The Leung Corporation is changing, expanding. We are branching out into new worlds and my daughter is part of this new generation.’

  Mann pushed the fringe away from his eyes and stared back at CK. They had been enemies for as long as he could remember.

  CK looked at Mann, his face shaded as he sat back in his chair. ‘What really brings you here, Inspector? If that is all you are here to ask me then our conversation will be a short one. I was hoping for more from you. I have been waiting for this time for many years. You have found out much that has changed in your life. You have found out about your father?’

  ‘I found out that he had a double life. He had another family across the world in Amsterdam. His life was a lie. He was not the man I believed him to be. You could have told me that a long time ago.’

  CK leaned forwards, rested his elbows on the chair arms, and he pressed the ends of his fingers together. They interlocked in the air like long, thin, bony chopsticks. Without the sun the room had become dark, heavy, brooding.

  ‘I have w
atched and waited over the years, hoping that one day you would come to me with the knowledge of who you are and who you were destined to be. Yes. I could have told you but it is always better to allow a man to follow his own path.’

  ‘Yeah.’ Mann turned away and allowed his eyes the comfort of the darkened room. He spoke quietly. ‘Well, let me tell you. It’s not a path I ever wanted to travel. I was happier in ignorance. I wish I had never found out what kind of man he really was.’

  ‘And what kind do you think he was?’

  Mann shook his head and smiled ruefully. ‘If I said he was a personal friend of Mother Teresa, a defender of human rights and a generous benefactor of the poor, would that do?’

  ‘I could say yes but we’d both be lying.’

  Amusement came into CK’s eyes. CK rarely smiled. He was not a man to give in to pointless or telling gestures. In the Triad world showing emotions was considered a weakness. Every movement he made was calculated to give away as little as possible to his enemy. Mann understood and he played the same game. But CK had practised it for longer and Mann’s quick temper always let him down in the end. It was fast to flare. But at full flame, it turned ice cold, his body slowed, his pulse barely ticked over. It was then that he could kill calmly and methodically if he had to, and he had to sometimes. Justice came in many forms. Over the years he had come close to killing CK many times.

  ‘What he was…’ CK continued, ‘…was a clever man with a shrewd eye for business. But he was troubled. He was a man with his feet in two worlds. He was a man whose emotions overtook him sometimes and he made mistakes.’

  ‘He was a Triad: greedy, self-serving and worst of all he was naive. He was a fool who played with fire and got cremated.’

  ‘No, you are wrong. He was a genius. He was a clever entrepreneur. He saw the wisdom of belonging to a great organization.’