Kiss & Die

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.’

Chapter 9

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.

Chapter 10

Mann took the MTR over to Central, Hong Kong Island. He walked up towards Soho (short for ‘south of Hollywood road’, an area of chic and not so chic wine bars, open fronted, pavement style, in cobbled streets and steep alleyways. Mann stepped outside of the noise and took out his phone.

‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to be sharp.’

He heard her sigh. ‘You have every right, son.’

‘No, I don’t. You did the right thing in keeping the truth from me for most of my life. It was great while it lasted.’

‘It would have lasted longer if she hadn’t got in touch.’

‘It wouldn’t have gone on much longer, I would have always found out in the end. His assets existed whether you wanted them to or not. Anyway…I’m glad she, Magda, did get in touch. I liked her, Mum, whatever Dad was or wasn’t he loved her and I was proud to know her in the end. It was difficult, it was uncomfortable but I found a brother I never knew I had. I hope you will agree to meet him one day.’

‘Perhaps, son.’

‘I’ll see you soon, Mum.’

The Cantina Bar was decorated with a mix of sci-fi memorabilia. It was a place he felt comfortable, cherished even, amongst the chirrups of R2D2 and the hyperdrive floor that seemed to collapse as you walked on it before it spun you off into a black hole. But, most of all, what attracted Mann to the Cantina was Miriam. She looked like an Italian sex siren from the fifties, with her cinched-in waist and ample chest and the outline of her voluptuous body beneath her tight dress. She was older, an English woman, a Japanese Yakuza widow: her husband had been a Yakuza member – the Japanese mafia. He had taken the fall for others. There was honour amongst those left behind. Now the Yakuza looked after her. They made sure the local Triads didn’t overstep their mark. The Japanese Yakuza were brothers to the Chinese Triad; big players in the Asian Triad market. When necessary, when business crossed borders then the two could be bed mates. In Miriam’s case the Triads left her alone to run her bar knowing that if they didn’t they would answer to the Yakuza. Miriam had large dark and sultry hooded eyes that oozed sexual promise. A Roman nose, broad mouth and glossy black hair tumbled down her back in waves; her lips were red to match her dress. Mann and Miriam had a thing going which went back a few years. They understood one another, or so he thought.

‘Where you been, Johnny?’ she said as she turned on her stool and watched him approach. He leant down to kiss her. She turned her face and he kissed her cheek. It was then that he realized he was in trouble. ‘You look wrecked.’

‘I’ve been to hell and back, Miriam. I could do with some intensive nursing.’

‘I left you a few messages.’ She tried not to smile.

‘I’m sorry, Miriam.’

The barman glanced over and batted his eyelashes. Mann smiled back. What was it with gays? They always fancied him. He brought him over a vodka on the rocks. Mann thanked him and took a large swig.

‘I was worried. I heard you got ill.’

‘I got malaria. I’m fine now. I just can’t sleep. I need a bedtime story and a glass of milk. Let me buy you dinner, I’ll tell you all about it.’ Mann realized he was getting drunker than he meant to. He needed to eat. But not in the Cantina – the food was a variation on tapas and Mann needed a proper meal. He kissed her hand and followed it as it went back to her lap. Beneath his palm he felt the slide of silk stocking. There was a smile creeping in, a curl of soft red lips. But it wasn’t yet the smile that she gave him which meant he wouldn’t be sleeping that night, not yet.

‘I was really worried, Johnny.’

He smiled, looked into her eyes. ‘I’ve missed you, Miriam. I’ve missed the way you laugh. I’ve missed the way you pretend to be angry at me. I’ve so missed feeling you fall asleep in my arms. But, work has had me running around like a headless chicken and, to be honest, I haven’t been good company.’

She stood and stepped closer to him. Mann could smell her perfume. He touched the curve of her waist, the smoothness of her dress as it rounded her hip. She was relenting. She was giving in. She brushed her breast against his arm and touched the side of his face with her soft hand. She smiled, her eyes full of mischief. ‘Let me pick up my nurse’s kit on the way.’

Back at his flat, Mann stood back to allow Miriam through. She was a few paces in the room when she turned.

‘It’s been a while since we did this.’

He pulled her close. ‘Too long.’ He kissed her neck. She drew back.

‘But you haven’t been lonely.’

He pulled back at looked in her eyes. They were searching his.

‘You’re the only woman who comes here, Miriam, honest.’

‘Really? Since when have you been wearing perfume?’

Mann turned his head and smelt the air. Miriam was right; there was a smell of perfume and it was one that he knew very well. The smell of Miss Dior was in the air; the scent of Helen.

Chapter 11

‘Gin and tonic, right, Steve?’

Ruby was working fast to put him at ease. She could see by his face as he looked around her room that he was wondering if he’d made the right decision. He was wondering why they hadn’t just gone to his hotel room or straight to the restaurant. You hungry, big man? You want some fun? Spend the evening with me? Now he wasn’t so sure.

‘Yes, Ruby. I thought we were going for something to eat? Is this where you live?’ He looked around the tiny apartment. ‘Jesus, what a shithole. Sorry – no offence. Is this it? Everything in this room: kitchen, bathroom? What’s in there?’ He pointed to the curtain.

‘That is my bedroom.’

He got up, pulled back the curtain and tried the handle. ‘You keep it locked?’

Ruby giggled. ‘Maybe I let you see my bedroom.’

He squinted at the shadows. ‘Plastic flowers…roses…and what are they? Dolls? Fuck, they’re everywhere.’ He laughed but at the same time he spun round and peered into the dark corners. Hundreds of pairs of eyes looked back. ‘Fuck…what is this place?’

‘Hey, big man,’ Ruby tried to distract him, ‘have a drink. Sit down. Make yourself comfortable.’ She handed him the glass.

He took a big slug of it. ‘Jesus, that’s strong.’ He wiped his burning mouth.

Ruby lifted her glass against his. She pressed him backwards. ‘Cheers. Sit. Sit.’

He sat on the sofa. ‘Drink. Drink…’ She drank her water down and poured him another gin.

She began to strip for him; he drank as he watched. He undid his shirt. Stripped to the waist, he eased back on the sofa, propped up on an elbow. She whirled around the room like a spinning top, laughing as she went. He laughed and tried to grab her as she danced around him. Ruby was down to her knickers. She straddled his lap and grabbed his hair. She ran her hands down over his arms. She looked at the tattoo he had on his upper arm.

MUM

She made a pouting face. ‘Ahhh. You a mummy’s boy?’

‘Of course.’ He grinned. ‘Safer than putting a girl’s name. It’s hard to rub off when it’s over.’

She stood and pulled his mouth to her sex. He drew away.

‘Hey, shouldn’t we use something? Ouch…go easy. You’re pulling my hair out.’ He laughed. He stood. ‘Come on then, you dirty girl, let’s go into your bedroom.’ He lurched sideways. ‘Jesus – I feel pissed.’

She eased him towards the locked bedroom door. She had the key ready in her hand.

‘You just need to relax. You need to lie down.’

‘Good idea.’ He grabbed her bottom and squeezed it hard. ‘Fucking hell!’ He lost his balance and crashed into the wall.

Ruby looped his arm around her shoulder as she unlocked the door and pushed it gently open. It was complete darkness inside. He stumbled forwards and hit his shoulder on the doorframe. ‘Where are we going? Through the secret door?’ He laughed.

‘You’ll see…’ She giggled and guided him inside, half dragging him now as his legs had started to buckle. ‘Time to lie down, big man.’

Ruby steered him forwards. ‘Lie down now. You’re okay, big man. Just lie back.’

He resisted for a second and then with a half laugh, half sigh, he gave in and lay back heavily on the mattress. Ruby ran her fingers through his hair, soothing him as he slipped further into unconsciousness and she moved around in the darkness tightening the restraints.

Chapter 12

In the morning Mann dropped Miriam back at the Cantina and he drove to Tammy’s school to give his talk.

The hall was darkened for the slide show projecting onto a screen behind him. He stood to one side. Three hundred children sat in front of him, in rows. A sea of white shirts and blue ties. They were hushed as the first ten images flashed up one after the other. Each image stayed up for three seconds unless he clicked to halt it: a girl dying with a needle in her arm, a boy whose face was badly disfigured from a chopping.

‘Triads deal in death,’ Mann continued. ‘In some form or another, it’s all about death. Whether its drugs, people trafficking, robbery, kidnapping. They aren’t fussy. They will make money any way they can. They don’t care who gets killed along the way. They use their members to fight battles just because they can. They don’t care how many get killed. Why should they?’

Mann stopped at the eleventh.

A young woman lay face down, a rope around her neck. Her hands were tied behind her back. ‘This is Zheng,’ Mann said. ‘She was on her way to study in England. She was looking forward to it. She was going to come back here and take her university entrance. When she arrived in London she was met by her contact but he didn’t take her to the school, as promised, he took her to this bedsit you see in the photo.’ Mann waited as all eyes studied the image of the girl lying face down. The room was in complete silence. ‘They cut off her little finger.’ Mann pointed to her left hand in the photo. ‘They sent that back to Hong Kong to her parents and they asked for ten million Hong Kong dollars.’ The hall gave a collective intake of breath. ‘Zheng’s parents couldn’t raise that kind of money so they raped and murdered her.’ The next photo to flash up was of a boy lying in a pool of blood, his chopped body twisted in death.

‘This is Zheng’s brother. He was an addict. He sold the Triads the information about his sister: which flight she’d be on, how much he thought his family would be able to find. They tricked him of course. They asked for ten times the amount his parents could pay and so, when they couldn’t pay, they killed him too. Nobody wins with the Triads. If you want to be somebody in Hong Kong society you have to stand out from the crowd, not just be another 49, another number.’ The lights went back on.

He looked along the rows. The front ten rows seemed to be solely occupied by girls, all looking up at him.

‘Any questions?’

About ten hands went up from the front. Mann pointed to the first hand. It was a girl from the fifth row back. She was mixed race. Part Chinese, part Filipino. She had come off well with the mix. She was striking looking, fair skinned. She had a touch of Spanish about her from the Filipino side, fair skinned, black haired. Mann realized he knew her, but he couldn’t place her.

‘Sir, do you give this talk to all the schools?’ she asked.

‘Pretty much.’

‘Even the schools where the parents have money and there aren’t any immigrants like there are here?’

The headmaster stepped forward to the mike to intervene; Mann waved him back.

‘What’s your name?’

‘Lilly.’

‘Lilly what?’

Lilly was a pretty girl with bags of attitude. ‘Mendoza.’

Her mother Michelle was a part-time hooker; Lilly must have slipped past the condom. The father looked like he must have been Chinese. Hong Kong was not a great ambassador for mixing the races. The Chinese liked to keep to their own kind. But something else was bugging him: he’d seen Lilly last night. She was one of the two girls who ran from the building just as he got there.