by Lee Week
‘Inside the old surgery.’
‘And when you found her, what did you do?’
‘I asked my father. He said he knew someone who could help. Someone in the family who owed us a favour. He would tell us what to do with her.’ Max shook his head. His shoulders heaved as he sighed heavily. ‘We went to Chan. He was a young man then – ambitious, mean. He’d just joined the Wo Shing Shing. We asked him for help.’
‘He was your cousin, after all?’
‘Yes, he was – and my father paid for him to go to school in England. He owed us.’ Max looked at Mann, his eyes sharp, shining in the gloom of the cell, eager to share the injustice of the situation. ‘He was supposed to help us dispose of it. Hide the evidence. He was supposed to do all that to repay his debt to my family. He was supposed to help.’
‘What did he do?’
‘He told Man Po to take the body to work, cut it up and feed it to the pigs when he went to the farms. He said he’d go to Stanley, to the place where it happened, and make sure there was no evidence there to convict Man Po.’
‘And then?’
Max got off the bunk and started pacing agitatedly around the cell.
‘For ten years, nothing – then it started. He came to me and said he wanted me to kidnap a girl he knew from a club. He said he would get her drunk, put her in my cab, and I was to do the rest. I had to keep her in the old surgery for a few days, then he would call me, tell me where I was to take her.’
‘Why did you go along with it?’
Max’s arms flapped in the air. ‘Huh? He said he had evidence. He said one word from him and Man Po and I would be arrested. I had no choice.’
‘So, you did what you were told. Then what?’
‘He called me. I had to give her a sedative, get her in the cab again … drive out into the New Territories. I had to take her to him late at night. He had a different club then, not Sixty-Eight – small, just beginning. We met in a car park. I gave him the girl. I thought it was all finished. Then, after a month, he called me again – told me to get Man Po to pick up her body and dispose of it the way he had the other one. Man Po didn’t want to. We had no choice. Chan made us do it. He used us. We had no choice.’
‘You had a choice.’
‘No … no … no!’ Max dissolved into a heap in front of Mann and clung to the bars as he slid down to his knees. ‘He said we owed him a lot. It was never enough – one girl, ten, twenty, never enough. I had to keep bringing them to him. I had to keep them in my house, in the old surgery, make them nice, make them scared.’
‘How did you choose the girls, Max?’
‘Huh? Sometimes Chan told me to pick someone up. Sometimes I got to know them myself.’
‘How?’
‘Through Lucy – the girls who stayed in her flat. They rode in my taxi to work. I got to know if they had family. Chan always asked me. “Any new ones?” I had to keep looking for them for him, more and more. He always wanted more.’
‘Why didn’t you tell him you’d had enough?’
‘Huh? I tried. He threatened to put all the blame on me and Man Po – for all of them. He threatened to kill my father. He said that Man Po had been hiding the bodies, not doing as he was told, and it would be easy for it all to be pinned on us.’
‘He was right about that, wasn’t he? The trophies?’
‘Yes – the trophies. Chan told Man Po to cut the bodies up and feed them to the pigs on the farms, but Man Po didn’t do it, not every time. He cut them up and hid them in freezers at his work. It wasn’t always easy to get to the farms every time. He had to wait sometimes, so he had to store them in the freezer. Then they had to defrost somewhere so that he could give them to the pigs easily, cut up small, no trace. It’s not always easy, huh?’
‘He liked the dead girls.’
‘Yes. He liked them a lot.’ Max shrank away from Mann. He edged back towards his bunk. ‘Sometimes he just kept a part. Small parts that he put into jars. Big parts in freezers. Until there were too many in the freezers. Then we heard that the company was changing hands, selling up, and soon Man Po would have no job. So he started emptying the freezers at work. He panicked.’
‘Got careless.’
‘Yes! He left the bags all over the place! So stupid.’ Max sat on the bunk, shoulders hunched, swinging his head monkey fashion. ‘So stupid.’ He turned sharply towards Mann. His eyes were burning in the gloom of the cell. ‘See! We’re not so bad. We didn’t kill them, except that girl. And that was an accident. Man Po is just a delivery man. He cuts up the carcasses and disposes of the meat. That’s his job. Nothing more. Just a delivery man.’
‘But it isn’t meat, is it, Max? It’s people. And you don’t always get them through Lucy, do you, Max?’
Max looked up and waited. He knew that Mann would come to it. Mann had saved the question until last. He had steeled himself for it. But Mann knew, whatever Helen had suffered he must suffer it now too.
‘That day you picked up my girlfriend from my flat.’
Max started writhing. He didn’t want to look at Mann. He didn’t want to answer this question.
‘That day, Max. Was she a random choice? Or were you ordered to pick her up?’
Mann’s heart was breaking. He felt near to collapse. He was tired, sick. He was trembling with grief and anger.
‘I am sorry. I did not want to … I did not know her.’ Max stood up again and came back to stand at the bars, but not too close – not close enough so that Mann could reach him.
‘Answer me, Max! Were you ordered or was it something that just happened?’
Mann’s anger made Max flustered. He was squirming. ‘He showed me a photo of her. He told me where you lived. I was ordered to watch her. I was told to wait for my chance.’ Max wrung his hands, looked everywhere but at Mann. ‘I was ordered to pick her up. I didn’t know her. He did.’ Max glanced at Mann. ‘For six months I watched and waited. That day – she called a cab. My controller told me the address. I knew it was my chance. She came out with her suitcase. I saw you come. You drove up. I thought you had come to stop me. I wanted you to stop me. But you let us go.’
Mann fought an overwhelming urge to reach between the bars and drag Max through them like they were a cheese-grater. At the same time he thought he would throw up.
‘I will regret that day forever, Max – till the day I die. But my death is some way off. Yours is almost here. You deserve to die, Max. And, when they kill you, please let the last image you see be of Helen. A life for a life, Max – you are truly damned. But, if it’s any consolation, I’m damned if you’re the only one.’
101
‘I’ve never seen the like of it, sir – kids as young as five.’
Li was speaking to the Superintendent as Mann walked in. Mann needed to get the meeting over with as fast as possible if he had any chance of catching up with Chan. Time was slipping out of his hands.
He stood next to Li, waiting impatiently for him to finish his account of Sixty-Eight. He could see he wasn’t the only one agitated. Mann looked at David White. The Superintendent had been listening to the account of Club Sixty-Eight without interrupting, but Mann could see that he was distracted. The late-morning sun was irritating his eyes. He looked ashen-faced and exhausted. His restless hands continually smoothed back the ghost of his hair.
‘Mann – summary, please?’
‘These men will have paid big money. They are going to be some of the richest men, not just in Hong Kong but across Asia. Maybe even worldwide. They will have paid millions to fulfil these warped fantasies of theirs, and Chan is the man who made it all possible. This is what we’ve been waiting for, David – now we finally have him!’
White sat back in his chair and looked towards the window. His eyes lingered there and he sighed heavily. The room went silent except for the whoosh of the ancient ceiling fan and the sound of voices in the corridor outside. The atmosphere in the room bristled with tired irritation and raw emotion. Shrimp looked at
the Superintendent and then at Mann, and he waited. He had no idea what for – he just knew something was about to kick off.
‘Thank you for your help, Officer Li. It’s the Inspector I need to talk to.’
The two were left alone.
‘Sit, Mann.’
‘I’d rather stand.’
‘Mann, please sit down before you fall down. We’re all exhausted – none of us has slept for days. I know this is the last thing you want to hear, but sit down and let’s get this thing done.’
‘I’m standing, David, until I hear what I want to hear, then I’m walking out of this office and getting on with my job.’
‘We’ve been told to leave Chan to his own – let the Wo Shing Shing deal with him “inhouse”.’
Mann took one of his deep breaths, which sometimes helped to calm him. This time the fuse was already lit and the breath merely gave fuel to the explosion.
‘I don’t want to fucking hear it!’ Mann’s voice leapt up several decibels. ‘Don’t even come close to fucking saying it!’ He stood rigid with anger. ‘No … fucking … way.’
Superintendent White held up his hands to silence him – he wanted his turn.
‘You’re right about these men. I am sure some of them will turn out to be among the wealthiest in Asia. They are all triad-connected – if not actually belonging to a society they will be affiliated somehow along the back-scratching, favour for favour route. They will certainly be under the protection of the Wo Shing Shing. CK will know most of them personally and his reputation will be at stake here. He won’t want to lose face. Chan got these men into this mess. CK will have to get them out of it.’
Mann leaned in over the big oak desk, past the grand-children’s photos, past the rugby trophy and cigar-box.
‘We can’t allow it to happen, David. Just to save CK from loss of face we have to let Chan escape? No fucking way! Loss of face is the least of his problems. Chan is involved in the deaths of all these women – he must come to justice. What about Helen? Is no one to stand trial for her murder? No one?’ Mann took a step backwards, stood tall. He looked David White straight in the eyes. ‘Let’s not waste any more time here. He’s already got a head start. He’ll make his way to the Philippines. There’s a big triad network out there on Negros. He will be protected there. If we don’t get him before he reaches Manila we’ve lost him for good.’
‘Mann, you are not listening to me – CK will have every expensive lawyer on the planet working on this case. I’ve already had one of them on the phone. He says he can prove that these girls went willingly to Sixty-Eight. That their deaths were accidents as a result of sexual games that they entered into willingly. Their histories as hostesses, prostitutes, will come into it. The films will be discredited in court. The identity of the men is unproven.’
‘Unproven? I can tell you who some of these men are. We just need to look through the Who’s Who of the world’s richest perverts – we’ll soon identify them.’
‘And what jury will convict them, Mann? Who’s going to stand up in court and condemn their whole family to certain death by convicting a highly connected triad? No one – that’s who.’ The Superintendent shook his head wearily as he slumped in his chair and sighed. ‘It wouldn’t get to court anyway. It would be thrown out by a judge, who’s probably in one of the bloody films. We have to swallow this, Mann. We have – no – choice.’
‘And Georgina, is she supposed to swallow it too?’
‘I am sorry, Mann. If she’s not dead already then she soon will be.’
Mann paused and shook his head slowly and sadly. He never thought that he’d see the day when the man he had looked up to all his life would sell out.
‘I never thought I’d hear you talk like this, David. I thought you had more balls and more integrity than this. Now that you’re about to retire, none of it means a damn to you any more.’
Superintendent White leapt up from his chair. It rolled back and crashed into the window frame. ‘Don’t ever talk to me like that. Not ever. Do you understand?’
‘Then tell me it’s not true, David. Tell me there’s not about to be one almighty cover-up, a trade-off, a pay-off?’
White went to stand by the window. He pulled angrily at the louvre blind, shutting its slats with a snap before turning back into the room.
‘Do you think I like it, Mann? Don’t you think I feel the same as you? I am disgusted with it all. I have given my life to upholding justice here in the region, never compromising, always putting my own life second. My reputation and credibility comes first for me – it’s paramount. You know that, Mann. But now integrity counts for nothing. Scum like CK are in charge – not us.’ He sat down heavily in his chair. ‘I had a call from someone very high up, Mann. There are to be no charges brought against any other individuals concerning the deaths at Club Sixty-Eight. Only the brothers will stand trial. The women went to the club willingly, consenting adults and all that bullshit.’
‘They consented to what? To being tortured to death? And the brothers are to take the rap for all the murders?’
Superintendent White nodded.
‘And I suppose they’re wanted in China on similar charges?’
He nodded again.
‘So, we have our two fall guys nicely stitched-up and facing a firing squad, while the money men walk free.’
‘That’s about the strength of it, yes. There will be no charges brought against Chan. CK will be responsible for keeping tabs on him from this moment on. Chan will stay in hiding until it all blows over. Then, when he returns, he will take a background role in the Wo Shing Shing from now on.’
‘Yeah, right! This whole thing might even work in his favour. CK takes the rap. CK has to watch his step – Chan escapes to start building a new life in the Philippines. Nice work! Well, David, you and the rest of the so-called justice system may have made a deal with the devil, but I haven’t. You may have sold your souls, but you didn’t sell mine. I am going to find Chan and make him pay, one way or another. I’m going to get Georgina back, safely. Then I am going to track down each one of those women’s murderers and bring them to justice. Whoever they are and whatever form justice takes.’
David White glared at Mann.
‘Don’t be stupid, Mann. You can’t win this one. You know what it’s like here. Money rules. Money is God. Money can buy anything, even justice.’
Mann had heard enough. He thumped his fist down on David White’s desk, upsetting the family photos and sending the rugby trophy flying.
‘Money might buy your type of justice, David. It’s never going to buy mine.’
102
If he was to secure a smooth path in his search for Chan and Georgina, Mann had to try and stay alive long enough to find them. Not an easy task when he was without police protection and surrounded by Wo Shing Shing. He knew it was time to up the stakes.
Two minutes after it opened, he joined the throng of people pushing through the revolving glass doors of the Leung Corporation building. He went through with the first rush of appointments and slipped into the stream of pencil-skirted, clicky-heeled secretaries tottering across the Italian marble floor, preparing for another day of money laundering. The whole building was dedicated to legit ways of using illegitimate triad funds.
Mann flashed his badge and slipped through security. He was hoping to make it up to the penthouse, where CK Leung had his office, without being stopped. It worked until he tried stepping out of the elevator on the top floor and was ejected straight back in. CK’s PA was flanked by half a dozen Wo Shing Shing gorillas, all flexing their muscles for a chance to hit someone so early in their working day.
‘Take it easy. I just want to have a chat with CK.’ He held up his hands for peace.
‘Mr Leung is a very busy man. You need to make an appointment,’ the PA – a slight, thin-faced, effeminate man – said before stepping back behind the gorillas.
‘This …’Mann flashed his police badge, ‘usually makes up for t
he lack of invitation. Tell him I want to see him.’
The gorillas started grunting. The PA put his small hand up for silence. He ushered Mann forward, and Mann grinned at them. ‘All right, boys? Nice suits. I didn’t know they made them in kids’ sizes. Cute!’
‘Follow me, Inspector. I will see if Mr Leung is free.’
They padded along on the thickest pile carpet Mann had ever trodden on. His leather soles sunk into it as he walked and he felt as if he were floating. It was over-the-top plush, with eye-popping décor that left you feeling slightly woozy with its purples and reds – like being inside a womb.
‘Please wait here.’
The PA left him sitting in the lounge area outside CK’s office for ten minutes, then he returned. ‘CK will see you now, Inspector. Follow me.’
As Mann entered, CK was standing by the window, looking out at his panoramic harbour view. He was in his customary Prince Charles pose – his hands clasped behind his back, his body leaning slightly forward, shoulders stiff. He was a slight man, elegantly dressed in a traditional Mandarin-collared dark suit. His luxuriant silver-grey hair was perfectly groomed and just touched the edge of his collar. There was an aura of calm menace about him, simmering just below the surface. Mann could feel it in the way he stood, the practised position of the all-powerful.
CK turned to acknowledge Mann – no smile, just a flicker of curiosity in his eyes. His face looked pale, thought Mann – tired. No, not exactly tired. More like white with anger.
‘Please, make yourself comfortable, Detective Inspector. Do you require some refreshment?’
‘No, I’m fine, thank you.’
CK nodded to his PA, who backed deferentially out of the room.
‘What is it, Inspector? How may I help you?’ He was frosty, curt, as he came back from the window to sit behind his desk, which was empty except for an antique jade dragon placed at his left side and a black phone console on his right.
‘Sorry. I know you’re a busy man, lots of arse-licking to do.’
CK looked up at Mann, shocked for a second, then he smiled – thin-lipped and mirthless.
