Kiss & Die (3 page)

It was 8 a.m. when Mann stood with ten other officers in the incident room. Next to him were the two men he shared an office with: Detective Sergeant Ng and Detective Constable Li – a.k.a Shrimp.

‘Okay, this is how I see it.’ Tom Sheng addressed the new team.

The incident room was on the twentieth floor of the police headquarters building. It was split into three sections. The first section at the entrance was where the Senior Investigating Officer set up base. The SIO was the person in charge of the enquiry and decided which line it would take. A screen separated that from the largest part of the room, the central section that had the bulk of the PCs, filing cabinets, and a large desk with four interfacing PCs. Along the back of the room was one long desk and a further five PCs and a phone between each. The third section was a staff room and a general ‘spilling over’ room for impromptu meetings. Each section was separated by screens. Each screen a multi-purpose white board.

‘We work together on this. We need to move fast.’ Tom
Sheng paused and looked around the room. ‘Collaboration is the key word here. I want no fucking egos taking over on this one. Chief Inspector Mia Chou and I will be allocating jobs to those best qualified, not those in a certain department.’

Mann looked over at Mia. She was perched on the edge of the central table with her arms crossed over her chest. She was immaculate as ever, just a small strand of hair had worked its way loose from the knot at the back of her head. She flicked it away irritably. She never wore lipstick. She played her looks down, looks distracted from the seriousness of her career. She was a good cop, conscientious, steady. That’s why she’d been promoted over him. There were very few other female officers of her rank. She’d worked hard for it. Mia did everything by the book. Mann did everything by his own rules. They were chalk and cheese but somewhere in the middle they both wanted the same things.

‘There will be no favouritism,’ Tom Sheng continued. ‘First of all, let’s be clear about events. What happened last night, Mann?’

Mann stepped up to the white board. He began pinning up photos. They were images of Rajini’s body squashed into the box; her arms were sticks in front of her face, held up to the camera. Her hands and the rooster were thrown into the box with her. There were shots from the autopsy. Mann didn’t need to look; he had it all stored in his brain whether he wanted it or not.

‘We got an anonymous call through to the hotline at 9 p.m. saying that there would be an initiation ceremony taking place that evening in Mong Kok.’

‘Any trace on it? Any chance of voice recognition?’ asked Sheng.

‘No. I’ve played it back. It’s someone being paid to read the details. It’s been sent via a third party. I left with Officers Li and Ng and we split into three teams, each covering a different section of Mong Kok.’ Mann put up a map of the area. ‘There were thirty officers altogether.’

‘So, you didn’t have enough manpower?’ Tom Sheng interrupted.

‘It wouldn’t have mattered if we’d had a fucking hundred times that amount,’ Mann snapped back. ‘It’s the most densely populated area in Hong Kong. Every doorway leads to a dozen more. In the end, it was all bullshit. It was in Yau Ma Tei, not in Mong Kok. It was off the night market here…’ Mann pointed to it on the map. ‘We were set a false trail. We were never meant to arrive on time, just meant to arrive.’

‘Why would someone want to run the risk of you finding it?’ Tom Sheng asked.

‘Because it was a special night. They knew we wouldn’t find it but they wanted to make sure it was acknowledged. Not only was the girl sacrificed but a new society was born. It is a branch of the Wo Shing Shing. I found their emblem amongst the burnt oaths. And I found this…’ Mann pinned up a photo of a lone wolf howling inside a circle. ‘Someone wants their birth announced.’

‘What’s the purpose of these new societies? Why change the format? Why start recruiting girls and ethnic minorities? What is the need for it?’ asked Sheng.

‘The Triads have always targeted the teenage underdog. The young Indian population feel abandoned. They feel
marginalized. They can no longer compete. The Indians and the other minorities used to be on a level playing ground, now someone’s dug up the goal posts and moved them. School places are allocated by a points system and the higher up the social scale you are the more points you seem to have. Plus you have to read and write Mandarin.’

‘What do we know about the victim?’

‘We don’t have a name for her yet. The autopsy showed she died due to asphyxiation when her throat was cut. We know she was of Indian descent, approximately fourteen years of age.’

‘What’s the latest on Operation Schoolyard?’ asked Sheng.

Mia answered, ‘We have one operative in the school. She’s twenty but looks much younger. It’s been hard to infiltrate; hard to get someone convincing enough. She joined a month ago as a student in the senior school. Her aim is to infiltrate into the new gangs. It’s a tricky area, new to us, dealing with girls, and immigrants.’

‘This initiation was brutal,’ said Mann. ‘She’s young to handle this.’

‘She’s twenty,’ said Mia. ‘There are people in this room who went undercover at that age. The difference is, she’s a woman. But that isn’t a problem. We need to play the same game and keep up.’

‘All right.’ Tom Sheng looked around the room. ‘There’s one thing we haven’t covered. Operation Schoolyard is all about infiltrating the ranks of the new Triads. What we need now is someone to give us an insider’s view on what is really going on at the top. We need to know who’s making all the decisions that filter down to these kids. Who’s
pulling the strings? We need an insider.’ Tom Sheng looked at Mann, He had a hard job keeping the smug look off his face. ‘I think that’s your job, Mann, don’t you?’

Mann was grateful to get out of the building. He left Headquarters and walked through the small lush garden that fronted it. The palms were being watered with a fine mist. It clung to his skin and cooled quickly as he took the steps up to the elevated walkways slung between Hong Kong’s buildings like Tarzan ropes, allowing the city’s seven million residents to escape the pavements and move from building to building all in the name of commerce. Money was king, queen and country.

Mann stood six foot two and weighed a hundred and eighty pounds. It was less than his usual weight. But he had been ill. He’d caught malaria in the jungles of Burma. He’d nearly died rescuing his eighteen-year-old half-brother who was supposed to be building a school for refugees and ended up getting kidnapped. Mann had had no choice but to go.

He checked his watch; he was early. He had time to phone. He stood on the walkway and took out his phone.

‘Mum?’

She was pleased to hear his voice, he could tell. ‘Are you better? I haven’t seen you properly since you came back
from Burma.’ Her accent was old school English: loosened a little by modern times but still tight, taut.

‘I’m all right, Mum. I’ve been busy.’

Mann allowed the pause that followed. He was used to pauses when he talked to his mother. They had so many things to say and yet they said very little. They loved one another but they were too alike. If one closed emotionally then so did the other.

‘Have you time to come over soon?’

‘I’ll see. I have so many things to sort out at home.’

‘Your father’s affairs?’ A frosty, hurt voice.

‘Yes.’

Mann rubbed his face with his hand. He was irritable now. Talking to her agitated him at the moment, he couldn’t help it. He took a deep breath.

‘Look Mum, I have to go. I’ll call you later.’

Mann closed the phone and slipped it back in his pocket. Now he really felt like shit. He knew what she’d be doing. She’d be staring out of the French windows, listening to the carriage clock tick. Her grey eyes would be filled with the colour of the sky. Her prim, upright figure would be stiff shouldered. She would be feeling like shit. Just like Mann.

Now his father’s secrets were out, Pandora’s Box was open. His father hadn’t just had another family in Amsterdam; he had supplied most of Europe with heroin. His father wasn’t just any Triad, he was a very good one. The chatter of the birds greeted him as he walked up into the botanical gardens off Albany Road at the top of Central district. Apart from that it was quiet; it was too early for the tourists. The place had the smell of the tropics, freshly
washed, birds squawked. Fountains filled the air with their fresh cool sound. Across the square he saw a small figure sat on a bench, her head down, her feet scuffling at the seeds and fallen leaves that had yet to be brushed up by the park attendant. Mann thought how young she looked, a skinny little slip of a girl. She might be twenty but she looked twelve. That’s why they’d been able to use her. He sat beside her but made sure they didn’t look as though they were together. He turned his head from her. Neither acknowledged the other. He rested his arm on the back of the seat. The sparrows gathered around their feet.

‘How’s it going? Aren’t you supposed to be in school?’ Mann asked.

‘Yeah, but I’m building up my rep as a wild child.’ Tammy sipped her can of Coke. ‘I’ll go in a minute. I’m just missing maths.’

‘Did you hear about last night?’

‘I heard about it. I heard that someone got killed.’

‘Yes. A young Indian girl. We are still waiting for formal identification. Do you have any idea who she is?’

‘They say she was someone from the Mansions. Her family lives there, they have a tailors on the first floor.’

‘Why was she killed, Tammy?’

‘I don’t know. There are a lot of rumours. They say she was an informer from another society, that she had told someone outside about the ceremony, that she had accepted money in exchange for information. I don’t know. I think maybe she was just picked as a show of strength. Now everyone is really scared. A lot of the girls are really shaken up by it. I have seen them huddled together, whispering, crying. It’s finally hit home that it’s not a game.’

‘Maybe now they will want out.’

Tammy didn’t answer at first. ‘I don’t think so, Boss. They are tough kids, scary tough. They don’t care about anything but money, MP3 players, watches. If anything, I think this death will bond them, strengthen their loyalty. These are just kids but kids see the cruelty of the world differently than we do. They frighten me. I think they will increase their members by this. It becomes more real, more exciting. They have no concept of death, of dying or being killed. They have no concept of the rest of their lives either. They feel no hope.’

‘Who’s doing most of the recruiting?’

‘Older girls. Sometimes from outside school. They wait for the kids when they come out. The one who is recruiting me is called Lilly Mendoza. She is in my year. She’s mixed race. Her mother is a singer in the hotels. They live in the Mansions.’

‘I know her mother – Michelle. I’ve known her since before Lilly was born. Try and find out more about who’s further up the ladder. We know they’re a breakaway branch of the Wo Shing Shing, we need to know a lot more. We need to know what their specific aims are, who their high-ranking officers are. Keep pushing, Tammy. The faster we find out what’s going on, the faster we can get you out.’

‘Yes, Boss.’ Tammy paused. ‘Boss…how much longer do you think I will have to stay undercover? I miss the real world. I miss seeing my boyfriend, seeing my parents.’

‘I hope it won’t be for much longer, Tammy. This was only meant as a short operation. I know it’s a hard one. You’re doing a good job. Not many officers would have
had a hope in hell of infiltrating this group. You’ll be guaranteed a place in the Bureau after this. It will be great to work with you when you get out of this operation.’

‘If I get a place in the OCTB it will be worth it, sir.’ Tammy stood and picked up her bag. ‘I gotta go, Boss. Got my school uniform to change into. See you later.’

‘And Boss, I have a name for you for the new society: the Outcasts.’

It was early evening when Ruby slipped in with the crowds and walked out onto Nathan Road. It was heaving. A new dump of rain had brought a sparkle to the air. The bamboo scaffolding was still dripping from the summer downpour. Ruby stepped out of the way of the drips and wove in and out of the crowds. She had heels on; she didn’t want to get her feet wet. She headed towards the harbour. She took a right and walked up the steep narrow road to the first of her destinations: the Walkabout, the Australian theme pub. Sometimes it was full of youngsters: young and rowdy with no wedding rings on their fingers. But at this time of the evening it offered a good deal for lonely businessmen who didn’t want to eat alone. They could watch the sport and eat a steak. The perfect place for her to start hunting.

Ruby walked in. She kept her head down as she walked to the far end of the bar and ordered a Coke from the young blond surfer type, his head a mass of springy curls. She took her drink and went to sit at a table in the corner. A cricket match was on. She made eye contact with a few of the older men. They were distracted by the match. Ruby
drank her Coke and left. She didn’t have time to waste. Ruby was always in a hurry.

She walked back up the road and took a detour to check out The Western, a saloon-themed pub. Ruby peered through the window; Annie the patron was swinging her gun-toting hips down the empty bar. She moved on. She knew what she was looking for. Hong Kong had lonely businessmen arriving by the hundreds every few minutes. Ruby could afford to be fussy. Plenty of fish in the sea.

Ruby continued on Nathan Road to a four-star hotel right in the heart of Tsim Tsat Tsui. Vacation Villas was in a great location, right next to the metro in the heart of the business hub, Kowloon side, and it was always busy. Businessmen stayed from all over the world. It had seventeen floors, a business centre on top, a rooftop pool and a good gym. But the main reason the businessmen liked it was because it had a twenty-four-hour cocktail bar.

Ruby came into the hotel by the Nathan Road entrance, past the few shops there and walked straight to the lifts. It was just one floor to the cocktail bar. The bar itself was not one of the stark new types, it was dark enough so that you could be lost in the shadows, just part of the wood panelling and the heavy brocade curtains. It was a bar to be anonymous in. It was noisy, busy enough so there was never silence, with singers to stare at to occupy a frazzled mind. It suited lonely businessmen and cops.

Ruby looked around the bar. Here there were lots of opportunities for her. It was early but the place was already full of lonely businessmen sitting by themselves. Ruby didn’t risk going to the bar. The light was sharp at the bar, clear. It left her open to being recognized. She chose one
of the tables at the edge of the bar. They were raised, two tall stools, perfect for showing off Ruby’s legs in her short skirt.

Her eyes focused on a sweet-looking man. She liked his blond curls. He had wire-rimmed glasses, an open-necked shirt. His broad forearms rested on the bar as he turned his phone over in his hands. He looked restless. Ruby turned in her seat so she could be sure he’d get a good look at her legs.

She stared hard. It took him a few minutes. Others looked at her but she ignored them. Her focus was on him. The thought of it sent a thrill through her stomach. It sent a pulse to her sex. It had a heartbeat of its own. It tightened in anticipation and felt warm and wet and plump with desire.

Fifteen minutes in she had done enough. He stood and walked over.

‘May I?’ He gestured to the stool next to her.

‘Please do.’

‘The name’s Steven.’

‘Hello Mr Steven.’

He laughed. ‘Steven’s my first name. Littlewood’s my family name. Friends call me Steve.’

Ruby lowered her eyes and smiled up through batting lashes. She glanced over his body. He was tall but not strong looking. She guessed he wasn’t a gym user. That was good. She guessed he weighed about one hundred-eighty pounds.

‘Hello Steve. We can be friends. My name is Ruby.’ Ruby turned to face him and looked up into his eyes, cocked her head to one side and said, ‘You have beautiful eyes – blue like the sea.’

He grinned stupidly as he leant forward and peered at her through his glasses. ‘They like what they see.’ He was slurring, embarrassed like a schoolboy at a village dance. He coughed to clear his throat and his head.

Ruby giggled as she smiled and slipped off the stool. ‘You hungry? I take you for something to eat and then we have fun. I have all night.’

He shrugged and nodded. He was starving. He hated eating on his own. ‘Yeah, sure.’

His phone vibrated in his pocket. He took it out to see who had messaged him. It was his wife. He switched it off.

‘You ready?’ She smiled beguilingly at him.

‘Oh yes.’ He grinned inanely back at her.

‘Do you like Indian food?’ she asked as she led him through the lounge, down in the lift and out into Nathan Road.

‘Love it.’

‘I know the best Indian restaurant in Hong Kong. Very cheap too.’

He closed his eyes and put his hand on his heart. ‘I’d die for a good Indian right now.’

Ruby giggled. She put her hand over her mouth to try and hide it. He saw her and laughed with her.

She led him through the side entrance of the Mansions. She hurried him past the Indian supermarkets, porn sellers, Visa shops. She took his hand and led him up the stairs.

‘Christ, where are we going?’ He stopped and looked around him as they walked along a landing on the third floor that faced into the middle of the five tower blocks. ‘It looks like a prison.’ The opposite landing was so near you could almost have reached over and touched it.

‘This is the centre of the Mansions. This is the most famous place for Indian food. You will see.’

Wafting up from the vents was the smell of curry. They walked up a further two sets of stairs.

‘Christ, how many more? It better be worth it.’

‘Nearly there, big man.’

He wasn’t unduly worried. He was used to Asia. He was used to strange smells and dirty alleyways and heat and grime and he was used to places not feeling quite right. The small buzz of fear that he had felt when he first found himself alone as a foreigner on a faraway street had long since left him. Once every few months he made the same trip to Asia. He had lost his wonderment, his adrenalin rush at the fear of the unknown. He didn’t care for Chinese food any more. Now he longed for curry and a cold pint of beer. Now he just sat in cocktail lounges that could have been anywhere in the world. Ruby understood it. She knew he was used to being out of his comfort zone and he would not back out now. He had come this far. He would have it all now.

They reached her apartment door.

‘This isn’t a restaurant.’ He looked around, still smiling, a little less relaxed, a little less tipsy.

‘This is where I live, big man. Come in and I will ring the restaurant and get us the best table. While we wait I will get you a drink, make you happy…’ She smiled teasingly and brushed her hand over his crotch, softly, lingeringly. ‘I like you a lot. I am going to give you a real good time.’

‘Sounds good to me.’ He pulled her to him, held her by the bottom and thrust his hips at hers. She quickly opened the door and led him inside.

He stood just inside. ‘Are you boiling gammon? I haven’t smelt that since I was young. My grandmother always boiled gammon.’

Ruby didn’t answer; she led him past the kitchen where steam rose from boiling bones, now stripped of their flesh and rattling in the scummy water. The bones belonged to a man named Matt Simpson. His glasses were still on the side of the sink. His head was feeding the lobsters. His photo was sitting in the arms of a boy doll dressed in a blue bonnet and blue booties.

Ruby took his hand and steered him into her room, she closed the door behind him.

Five men had entered her room, stepped into her secret world. Five men had entered, none had left. He was the sixth.