Kiss and Die

by Lee Weeks

  Mahmud shook his head. ‘She says different things to different people. She hooked in the Outcasts to do her dirty work. I don’t know if there were orders to kill the officer. I was just in the wrong place and was passed the knife, nothing more. I can tell you nothing else.’

  ‘I need something more to work with if I’m going to get you out of here. I need a name. Was it your brother? Was he ordered to target the officer?’

  Mahmud lifted his eyes slowly and looked at Shrimp incredulously as he shook his head and then stood to leave. ‘You do not understand anything. Soon it will all be too late to help any of us. I have nothing more to say. If you love Nina then save her.’

  Chapter 62

  ‘It’s not your fault, Genghis.’ The office was subdued. The news of Tammy’s death sat heavily on the whole of Headquarters. Questions were on everyone’s lips as to why she was put at such risk. Mann was staring into space and seeing nothing but his thoughts when Ng came back into the office and found him.

  Mann shook his head angrily. ‘I should never have put her into a mission like that. I pitched her against the skills of Victoria Chan. Why didn’t Tammy get out when I told her?’

  ‘It was always just going to be a matter of time before we put a female agent in there and before it went wrong. It just means she was unlucky – it happens. There’s nothing you could have done; it wasn’t just your decision. We’re a team, remember?’

  Mann shook his head. ‘No, Ng. I was her operator. The buck stops with me. No matter what you say, it doesn’t help. Maybe others have lost agents, maybe it happens, but it hasn’t happened to me before and it was my duty to protect her.’

  ‘She knew the risks. Every undercover cop knows them. It’s a dangerous world to go into but, even with the rewards and promotion, it isn’t always worth it. I was eighteen months undercover in the end. I got so used to it, I hardly knew where I belonged any more. Every undercover cop crosses the line. Otherwise it wouldn’t work. When you come out it’s really hard to go back to your ordinary life. I was used to leading the life of a highly paid Triad. I drove fast cars, snorted cocaine, slept with beautiful hookers. I had so much money. You’re told to use it, to exploit your talents, to gain trust. You are told it will be worth it for your career. But you are never the same again. I had looked deep inside myself and seen something that could be harnessed and used for evil. I have spent the rest of my life telling myself I did a good job but knowing that it came easy. It takes a stronger man than me to come out untarnished with your soul intact.’

  ‘You never took the promotion,’ Mann reminded him.

  ‘No.’

  ‘Tom Sheng did.’

  ‘Tom Sheng liked what he saw when he walked on the dark side. I turned into someone I didn’t like; he respected the man he saw in the mirror, I hated him. Sometimes our paths crossed, Tom and me. We were both undercover at the same time. Both as members of the Wo Shing Shing. We were in different branches, responsible for different things. I was part of the team in charge of getting the drugs into Hong Kong. He was part of the one responsible for getting it distributed. We liaised as Triads, never as policemen.’ Ng paused. ‘I didn’t take the promotion because I wasn’t sure what I did was right. I wasn’t sure it made me a better cop. I want to save lives not help distribute the drugs that end them, even if the overall goal was a good one. I have been a Buddhist ever since. Your father was a Buddhist; he tried to do good in the end. He just ran out of time.’

  ‘My father still has a hold on this world. His legacy lives on and now I have to wonder whether even Tammy has paid the price for it. Was I too distracted with my father’s business that I wasn’t thinking straight? Did I fuck up?’

  Mann read Ng’s eyes. There was a sadness in them that he understood. The sky above was faultless, the sun bounced off the rooftops. Mann looked for the eagles. He saw one watching him as it hovered by the window. Mann turned back to Ng.

  ‘I wish I had the one answer to it all, Ng.’

  ‘You do have, in your heart. Your eyes are on the horizon again, Genghis. Remember the way is in your heart, not in the sky.’

  There were no stars that evening, just cloud. Mann had been to see Tammy’s mother. Ng had offered but Mann wanted to. He wanted to feel the full weight of it. She thanked Mann, comforted by his concern. It was all Tammy had ever wanted – to be a police officer. She died doing something she loved. She died making a difference.

  It was bullshit. Mann had to look away when she said it. He felt like he had personally sent Tammy to her death. He felt like his was the hand that held the knife. His mood was beyond just getting drunk. It was still steeped in anger. Five hours later Mann had bypassed any comfort he might have hoped to get from the alcohol he consumed that evening. It didn’t seem to matter how much he drank; he just got more sober. He headed for a side of town he hadn’t been to in a while – old Wanchai; a small remnant from the Suzie Wong era. In his pocket he had the piece of bondage tape used to tie Max Kosmos’s legs.

  Halfway through the evening he headed down the steps to one of his old haunts, the Bond bar in Wanchai. He hadn’t been in the Bond bar for a while. It used to have a Bond Girl theme, not anymore. He’d heard it had been revamped. A big muscled doorman stood at the entrance. He was dressed like a gladiator. He looked Mann over as if trying to find a reason not to let him in. He grunted something and stood back to allow Mann to pass. As Mann walked through to the bar he could see that the place still specialized in sleaze; the bar was darker than ever. Each girl was sat in the middle of a raised podium bar, her body very close, and at eye level with her customers who sat around.

  Mann went to sit at one of the far podiums. Four other men were sat around on black leather stools. The Bond bar had changed into the Bondage bar. The main attraction hadn’t changed: it was still half-naked girls, mainly foreign.

  The blond girl in front of him was wearing a collar around her neck, a tight black PVC bodice around her middle that ended just below her large bare breasts, and a strap with a big buckle that went between her legs.

  ‘Hello, Johnny.’ She spun around on her revolving podium and picked up a glass to mix him a drink.

  ‘Hello, Lola. How’s business?’

  Lola was a British woman in her early forties but looked younger with the help of a bit of Botox.

  ‘Ouch – this fucking thing pinches.’ Lola adjusted the strap that went beneath her crotch. She handed Mann his drink. ‘Business is booming, thanks, Johnny.’

  Around the podium were four businessmen. Lola leaned forward in a pretend whisper, hoping that the other punters around her station would feel obliged to eavesdrop. ‘I pick up some really good clients in here. I’ve invested in some new equipment.’ She winked at Mann. ‘Medical, ethereal, you insert a wire down the man’s urethra and this machine gives off sound waves – boy does it produce some great results. You should try it. You might even like it.’ Her eyes settled on his face. ‘Actually, forget it; you look like you need bed rest for a month. You’re looking dead beat, Johnny.’ She turned away briefly as one of the men opposite needed a refill. She turned back and adjusted her strap again.

  Mann shook his head. ‘I’m all right, Lola. I’m not getting much sleep, that’s all. There’s a lot on at work.’ Mann looked around at the other seven girls, who were wearing various dominatrix outfits. ‘All these girls work as mistresses in their spare time like you?’

  ‘Some. But none of them compare with me, hon.’

  She passed Mann a card. It was a photo of Lola dressed in a PVC cat-suit-type outfit, a mask on her face, a whip in her hand.

  ‘Thanks.’ He took it from her and studied it. ‘Nice card. I’ll let you know; meanwhile…do you know anyone who might specialize in a double act in a hotel room? Two girls, boy-girl even, bondage, rough stuff?’

  ‘Plenty, why?’

  Mann produced the piece of bondage tape from his pocket. ‘Is this stuff standard issue, Lola?’ He handed it to her.

  She took it
from him and rubbed it between her fingers. ‘Yes and no. It’s definitely bondage tape but it’s thicker than usual.’

  ‘Where would I be able to buy this?’

  Lola shrugged. ‘Web sites.’

  ‘What about from you? I heard that you had supplied this place with all the outfits. You must have a good source for anything you need.’

  Lola looked taken aback for a second and then she turned to top up the other customers’ drinks. She made small talk. She turned back after a few minutes.

  ‘I have some, it’s true. I bought up some old stock but it’s just for emergencies. It’s difficult to tear with your teeth. It needs a knife to cut it.’

  ‘Did you sell any on?’ She shook her head. ‘Where did you buy the stock from?’

  ‘It was a stall in the Mansions. It was only there for a few weeks. A woman was selling off her stuff.’

  ‘What kind of woman?’

  ‘Might have been Indian. I can’t remember. She wasn’t Chinese, anyway.’ She looked at the piece in her hand again. ‘Where did you get this piece from?’

  ‘It was wrapped around a dead man’s foot. Whoever did it tied him up with this before they tortured him. Have any of your businessmen clients been talking about an experience that wasn’t pleasant?’

  It was hard to know what she was thinking. Lola only had one expression left that wasn’t Botoxed out or filled in. ‘You got to remember, Johnny, some men really like it mean. Some of them really want to be hurt. All the other women I know who make a living from being mistresses are as sweet natured as they come, just like me.’

  She batted her eyelashes at Mann.

  ‘Yeah, right,’ he smiled.

  ‘We do it because it’s an easy way to make money without fucking. But, I will ask around for you.’

  ‘This wasn’t just hurt; his flesh was stripped. His balls virtually cut off.’

  She looked momentarily shocked which was registered on her face by her eyes opening up wide. ‘Shit, that’s seriously nasty.’ She shook her head. ‘That doesn’t sound like an S amp; M game to me.’

  ‘Yeah, I agree.’ Mann finished his drink. ‘She went to a lot of trouble to make sure he felt the pain. He took a long time to die. You give me a ring if you remember anything else, Lola.’

  Mann left Lola. He walked back out onto the street. He got a call from CK.

  ‘I wanted to express my sympathy at the death of your officer and to ask you to join me this evening.’

  ‘Tonight’s not the night.’

  ‘Tonight is exactly the night, Inspector.’

  Chapter 63

  On the roof red papers twirled in the air and were sucked up and spun in the wind. The sound of whistles filled the air – three beeps and one long tone. The roof of the Mansions was bathed in the black of late night. A storm was coming. The belly of the cloud was lit with neon from the city below. Gusts of wind whipped up the waves in the harbour.

  Hafiz caught Lilly by the arm and turned her sharply round. ‘My brother is in prison because of you.’

  ‘Let go.’ She wrenched her arm free. ‘That’s bullshit. You know it is. I never asked him to be there. He messed it all up. It was all under control. She wasn’t supposed to get killed. She was only supposed to be taught a lesson. ‘Just rough her up a bit, I was told. You want someone to blame, you look to your own family. Mahmud should have kept well away.’ Lilly shook her head sadly. ‘Look I’m sorry about Mahmud, believe me. But think about it, Hafiz. They can’t charge him if he didn’t do it. They will have to let him go in the end.’

  They turned to see the roof around them filling with members of the Outcasts, skinny kids with light jeans, big shoes and gelled hair. They were just like millions of others – nondescript, except that in their hands they carried weapons and the red invitations that had summoned them to a meeting. ‘If you see him tell him I’m sorry.’

  More members of the Outcasts began to appear. They came from all over the city to the Mansions. Nathan Road down below was crawling with teenage feet answering the call of their mistress. Thirty minutes passed and the assembled children cheered as the announcement went up that ‘she’ had arrived. They waited nervously for her to address them. She moved amongst them as she made her way across the rooftop. The wind was blowing. The distant sound of a storm charged the air with an eerie light.

  Victoria stood in front of the gathered crowd. Her hair was loose, it whipped around her face. Her leather cat suit was sleek, moulded to her figure.

  Hafiz and Lilly gathered round her with the others. The roof was moving with black figures, small shadows.

  From the distance a rumble of thunder grew louder.

  Victoria lifted up her arms as if to embrace them all. She stood on the top of an air conditioning vent. ‘You are all my children, my Outcasts, and I love you just like a mother would. I promise each one of you that I will change your life. I promise you money, power. You can be whoever you want to. You stick with me and I can take you right up to the sky.’

  Above her the lightning lit up the belly of the cloud. The children gasped.

  Victoria tossed her head on the air triumphant. ‘All I need from you is everything. I want everything now. Go into those Mansions and cause trouble. Run wild. Run free. You can be whatever you want. As long as you’re prepared to fight for it. Are you?’

  The children held their knives in the air as the night sky was filled with their howling.

  Chapter 64

  The Piccadilly Club was a private members’ club. It was British gentry style: polished brass, cracked leather chairs, Dunhill fixtures. It only accepted the wealthiest of clients but that didn’t stop there being a waiting list to join.

  Mann was frisked at the entrance by two of CK’s bodyguards, then he was escorted up to the top floor. Eighty floors in the speed elevator later he was met by a portly English butler dressed in a plaid waistcoat and black trousers.

  ‘Follow me please, sir. You are expected.’

  He led the way to the Red Salon. It was a lounge and private dining area. Its theme was deep, rich, cherry-red wood and brilliant gold. Around its walls was a library of classics shelved on a mahogany bookcase and there was a mahogany writing desk.

  CK was sitting in the centre of a rectangular seating area. He was surrounded by his lieutenants, Red Poles. On their laps were Eastern Bloc hostesses: tall and sharp featured. They were young, beautiful; or they had been, once, when they had first been trafficked over. Long-sleeved dresses barely hid the needle marks in their arms.

  CK watched him approach and so did the Red Poles.

  ‘Good evening, Inspector. Join us. Let me introduce you to my officers.’

  Sitting next to CK was the pretty waitress from the restaurant at the race course, dressed in a straight-backed cheongsam. She sat bolt upright. She had a black collar around her neck and a chain attached. CK held the end. She had been transformed from an elfin-faced young beauty into a rouged doll. Her face was as white as a sheet and her eyes were as dead as a fish lying on ice in the fishmongers. Mann could see that she had sold her soul to the devil sat next to her. Two monkeys were being handed around and being fed rice wine. They were trying to perform acrobatic tricks but they kept losing their balance and crash landing onto the floor and the table. The fruit bowl turned and flew off the side of the table. The monkeys rolled on their backs, screeching.

  Mann looked around at the assembled officers. ‘Don’t bother. I know as much as I need to know about them. I haven’t met the monkeys before, I take it these are the brains behind this outfit?’

  CK lifted his hand to prevent any thoughts of retaliation and then he waved his lieutenants away.

  One by one they got up and filed past Mann, the hostesses, half carried, half dragged as they tottered on their heels. Each Red Pole stopped to eyeball Mann as they passed him. Mann was used to the game. They didn’t go far. The dining area was around the corner to the right. Mann could still hear them talking, low, the girls were giggling,
screeching.

  The waiter arrived with Mann’s drink. He took it and felt the strong liquor burn his lips, the ice cool his throat and stomach. The Chinese girl did not leave. She stared ahead of her as if she saw her dreams. She was caught in the world of heroin. She existed only in her own mind. One of the monkeys had run off with the Russian hostesses. The other now stared at the Chinese girl, watching her face. It mimicked her expression. It jumped onto her lap and reached its baby-like hand up to touch her cheek. It grinned, worried, frightened. Her eyes turned slowly towards it. It screeched and jumped down onto the floor where it gobbled the spilled fruit and chattered away to itself.

  ‘What do you know about the death of my officer?’

  CK smiled. He looked across at the Chinese girl as he addressed Mann. ‘Beautiful, isn’t she? She is my new pet. She is not permitted to talk. She is not permitted to move unless I tell her she may. If she pleases me she gets her reward. It is important to understand one another’s weaknesses as well as their strengths, isn’t it, Inspector?’

  ‘Was her weakness always for heroin?’

  A waiter appeared, bowed low and took the monkey away.

  ‘No, her weakness was for wealth. I merely pushed her to see what she would do for it. It was her own flawed character that let her down, not my cunning. Before you let people in close to you, you must know their Achilles heel. Everyone has one. Your officer died because someone you know well has such a weakness. You have an enemy within. It is someone you have known many years. But, I have known him for even longer. I have something he wants.’ CK looked across at the girl. She looked as if she were crying. ‘Come, we will eat. Then we will talk more.’