White Devil - A Beatrix Rose Thriller: Hong Kong Stories Volume 1 (Beatrix Rose's Hong Kong Stories)
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THERE WAS a place to park the van at the back of the brothel. Chau got out, pulled back the sliding door and collected his bag. He suspected that he would need to make more than one trip, but the large leather satchel contained the things that he knew that he would always need. He made his way across the uneven ground to the alley that ran between the buildings, opening out onto Portland Street at its other end. There were entrances to the buildings on either side, and he opened the door to the Kimberly and climbed the stairs to the top floor.
A woman in a tight leather skirt was waiting there. The mamasan pointed down the corridor. Chau followed her directions.
He rapped quietly on the last door.
It opened, and Beatrix Rose let him inside.
Donnie Qi was on the floor. He was naked save for the plastic bag that had been tied around his head.
“Are you…?”
“I’m fine.”
“And…?”
She pointed at the body. “What do you think? It’s done.”
“And?”
“Relax, Chau. It was easy.”
He came inside and shut the door. He had promised Ying that he would make a good job of this. Donnie would disappear. This was a very good start.
“He was alone?”
“There was a girl with him.”
“Where is she now?”
“The mamasan took her away.”
“Did she see what happened?”
“No.”
“We should be sure—”
“No,” she interrupted. “She was asleep. Doped to the eyeballs. She won’t remember anything.”
“I said no witnesses—”
“No, Chau. She didn’t see anything. You’ll have to trust me. Nothing happens to her. Non-negotiable.”
He could see that there was no point in arguing with her. And he was relieved that she was so firm. He really had no wish to hurt anyone else. “Fine.”
Chau opened the leather satchel, took out the folded plastic sheet and spread it over the floorboards. He took out his butchery tools: a meat saw, a bone saw, and two heavy cleavers. He had bought two large rucksacks from a trader he knew back at Chungking Mansions. They were in the van. They just needed to get Donnie into the bags, and then he could be taken out of the brothel, back to the van and then disposed of. Chau had a contact at the Goodbye Dear Pets Cremation Centre in Yeun Long San Tin. For a thousand dollars, he could have the body parts incinerated at the same time as the remains of a dog or cat.
He took out his disposable plastic coverall and started to put it on. “You can go,” he said to her.
She took off her jacket and dropped it in the corner of the room. “We’ve got to be quick, right?”
“I said we would be.”
“Then I’ll stay and help. You got another of those?”
“Yes.”
She went into the satchel, took the suit out and unfolded it.
“You don’t have to help me, Beatrix.”
She put the suit on, pulling the hood over her head. She took one of the cleavers. “Ready?”
CHAPTER TWELVE
JACKIE CHAU parked his van in front of his warehouse on Kai Hing Road, got out and looked around. Caution was habitual now. He had been careful before, but the experience of the last few weeks and the attention from Donnie Qi and his men had made him even more aware of his surroundings and the threats that could be hidden within them.
He undid the padlock, pulled back the hasp and gave a firm upwards yank, sending the roller door up toward the ceiling. He went back to the van and drove inside.
He heard the sound of a motorbike as soon as he killed the engine and stepped out of the cab. He went back to the open doorway and looked out into the street. It was a Triumph Bonneville T100, a beautiful big-throated 865cc classic and, as he watched, it peeled off the road, negotiated the short driveway and rolled inside the warehouse, pulling up next to the van. The bike was all in black. Black-rimmed spoke wheels, a black-cased engine with machined fin highlights, black bars and mirrors. The rider was slender, dressed in a black leather bomber jacket and black leather trousers. The helmet, too, was black, with a smoked visor that made it impossible to see the face inside.
He knew that it was her.
The rider switched off the engine, removed the helmet and shook out her hair.
“Chau.”
“Hello, Beatrix.”
He guessed that she must have been watching him. He had thought that he had been careful. But he had quickly come to learn that if she didn’t want to be seen, then she would make herself quite invisible. He knew what she was capable of, too, those expressions of controlled violence, and the thought of her hiding in the shadows was not one that was likely to make a man sleep easily at night. It was the reason that he had instantly dismissed the notion of welching on their deal. Thirty thousand was a lot, but there was no amount of money that would have made him comfortable with the prospect of her as his enemy. It would take every last cent that he had, but he was prepared to pay it.
Besides, he had a proposal to put to her.
She rested the bike on its kickstand, put her left foot on the floor and swung her right leg over the seat.
“Have you got it?”
“Yes,” he said. “In the office.”
She followed him to the iron stairs. Chau went up first, unlocked the office and held the door open for her. She went inside and he went in after her. The money was in a counterfeit Hello Kitty rucksack that he had bought in Chungking Mansions. It appealed to his sense of humour, thirty thousand US stuffed into a counterfeit bag that he had bought for ten Hong Kong dollars.
“Seriously?”
“I have another bag if you would prefer.”
She took it from him. “You’re a funny guy, Chau, anyone ever tell you that?”
“All the time.”
She slung the bag over her shoulder.
“You do not want to count it?”
“I trust you, Chau. You know it would be stupid to short-change me.”
That was the truth.
“I have spoken to Mr. Ying,” he said.
“I hope he was pleased.”
“He was very pleased. And impressed.”
“Well, that makes me very happy,” she said sardonically. “And Donnie?”
“Gone.”
“What are people saying?”
“Many things. That he has been killed, of course. Or that he has been chased away. Some have even suggested that he is working with the police. Much speculation.”
“None of which can be traced back to you.”
“No. Ying knows, of course, but it is not in his interests to reveal his hand in it.”
“Then it’s done.”
She turned to the door again, about to go. Chau needed to broach the subject now or he would lose his chance. If she left without him speaking to her about what he had in mind, there would be no second chances. She would be gone forever; he knew that for a fact. He would never see her again.
“He said something to me that I thought you might like to hear.”
“That’s probably unlikely, Chau.”
“Will you hear me out?”
She rubbed her palm against her cheek, and, exhaling, leant back against the wall. “One minute. Go.”
“Good,” he said. “Good. A cup of coffee? Something stronger? I have a bottle of sake.”
“No,” she said, shaking her head. “Fifty seconds. Get on with it.”
He nodded and spoke quickly. “As I said, I have spoken to Mr. Ying. I will be working for him from now on, as you know. There is a lot to do. A man like Mr. Ying, the organisation he works for, well, you understand business is brisk.”
“Depressing, Chau. Twenty seconds. Get to the point.”
He flapped his hands. “Yes, yes, of course. Mr. Ying explained that, most times, the people that are in the way of the triad’s business are easy to reach. But, other times, people can be more diffic
ult. They are cautious, they take precautions. Perhaps they have guards, or they rarely move away from places that can be defended. He said Donnie Qi was easy—”
“Then he should have done it himself.”
“—and that others would be more of a challenge. They need someone who would not be suspected.”
She folded her arms across her chest. “He have anyone in mind for this?”
“You have made an impression on him, Beatrix. The men in the bar. The men in your hotel room. And then Donnie Qi. He wants me to introduce you.”
“That’s not going to happen.”
“No. I said you would not be prepared to do that. But you still need money, yes?”
She shrugged, declining to answer, but Chau could tell that she did need more.
“Then perhaps I have a proposal. I will work with Mr. Ying. Front man. He will supply me with the name of the person he is interested in, and I will supply it to you. We can consider each person on their merits. If they are acceptable, then it can be as it was for Donnie Qi. You can do what needs to be done and I will make them disappear.”
He stopped, watching her face. She was inscrutable.
“The Chinese have an expression, Beatrix. ‘Life is meat.’ Life is temporary. Life comes and goes, it is brutal and it is hard. The men and women who have crossed Ying know that this is a consequence that might come to them. Life is meat. There are no innocents.”
She was silent.
“Beatrix?”
She pushed herself off the wall and stooped to collect the bag of money. “I’ll think about it.”
“We will be able to ask for more,” he said. “Thirty thousand is low for something so professional.”
“I said that I’d think about it.”
She left the office and started down the stairs.
Chau followed.
“Do you want to know what he called you?”
“Not particularly.”
“He called you gweilo. You know this word?”
She stopped and scowled. “Foreigner. It’s not a compliment.”
“Yes, that is right. But it also means something else. It means white devil. It is as I say, Beatrix. You have made an impression on him, and he is not a man to easily impress.”
She continued on without answering, but he saw the flicker of something across her face. Interest? Curiosity?
Maybe.
“Mr. Ying will want an answer,” he called down after her.
“I’m sure he will.” She reached the Triumph, took the helmet from the seat and settled it over her head.
“How will I know?” he said.
She turned to him, the visor hiding her face.
“How will I find you?”
She slid it up, her blue eyes flashing beneath it.
“You won’t,” she said. “I’ll find you.”
BEATRIX ROSE returns in the second Hong Kong Story
NINE DRAGONS
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