by Lee Weeks
The slight Irish jockey stood with his head bowed. The elfin-faced hostess appeared to escort Mann to his table in the restaurant.
As he entered the last of the customers was being escorted out. The place was being cleared. Three of the customers were glued to the window, their hands over their mouths in horror. Mann saw why. The restaurant overlooked the racetrack. The young Irish jockey in black and gold had fallen from CK’s balcony. His body was being transported away at the same time as the horse.
‘Sorry to keep you,’ CK said as he entered the now empty restaurant and took up a seat opposite Mann at the window table. ‘The death of a horse must be investigated. Everyone involved in the event must take some responsibility.’
‘I see the jockey took it hard.’
‘Ah, yes.’ CK glanced out of the window and realized that Mann must have had a good view of the events. ‘I tried to console him but he was very distraught. He was dedicated. He lived for that horse.’
CK waited as the waiter placed his napkin across his lap.
‘This is not the best restaurant in Hong Kong of course. But I like the traditional decor, the views; I like its atmosphere. I like the silence.’ Now there was just the sound of twenty waiters with nothing to do but cater to two men’s needs as they walked softly over the stone floor and wound their way between the heavy rosewood furniture.
The waitress was a pretty girl from the mainland, traditional beauty: slight in figure, delicate, child-like, dressed in a chic coolie outfit. She spoke to them in Mandarin. CK kept his eyes on her as she waited to take their order. Mann ordered his usual – large Zubrowka vodka, ice, twist of lime. CK ordered a bourbon straight. The waitress didn’t need to take a food order. The chef was ordered to prepare everything on the menu. They would never eat it all but in Hong Kong waste equalled wealth. Duck heads arrived for them to pick at. CK watched the waitress walk away before he turned back to Mann. Mann smiled. He was oddly amused by CK’s lechery. It was the first time he had seen a weakness for the flesh in CK.
CK studied Mann. ‘I am pleased that you reconsidered your position and accepted my invitation, Inspector.’
‘My father has left me no choice. There are some things that I will have to deal with. There are decisions that will have to be made whether I like it or not. I think there are some companies with which I can be involved and not harm my integrity.’ As Mann said the words he had rehearsed in his head they sounded strangely true and he felt oddly calmer for having said them. Now he was really worried.
‘I am glad that you have finally begun to see reason. There is no escaping one’s destiny.’
CK paused and waited until the young waitress was out of earshot. He stopped picking at the duck eyes and replaced his chopsticks on their holder. ‘I can help you. I will make you an offer that I believe will be perfect for us both. You get to keep your integrity, I get the rewards I feel I deserve. After all, I have been looking after a portion of your father’s assets for years. This is a deal for your ears only.’ CK paused.
They were interrupted by the owner of the restaurant who came over and whispered something in CK’s ear. The waiter hastily laid another place beside CK. CK nodded his agreement and picked the napkin from his lap as he prepared to stand.
‘We have a guest.’
Mann looked behind him to see a Chinese woman walking towards them. She was taller than average, more athletic looking. She had curves. She was elegant, in her mid-thirties, perfectly groomed, sharp features, with her hair pinned high on her head, her fringe short, blunt. She was twinset and pearls, pencil skirt, box jacket, conservative. But then Mann took a look at her shoes, patent leather, black, five-inch heels. He heard the rustle beneath the skirt. Mann didn’t need an introduction, he knew her. She was CK’s daughter and the widow of his one-time best friend, Chan, now one more drifting set of bones in the South China Sea. She was CK’s only legitimate child; his other was a younger daughter, borne by a concubine and still at school in England.
When Mann was tracking Chan he had made a study of Victoria. He knew what size dresses she wore, which perfume she liked, where she played tennis, which lunch venue she preferred when she was entertaining her friends. Mann also knew that Victoria Chan married beneath her. She was privately educated in England. She had gone to Oxford and studied English. This was a woman who had juggled Chinese and Western cultures, had tried to catch the balls and then realized she hadn’t been passed any. This was the woman who had done what her father ordered, but along the way she had compromised herself. He stood as she approached. She looked from CK to Mann, where her eyes stayed as she walked towards them.
Mann knew what she must be thinking: Let’s get a good look at the man who killed my husband.
Chapter 19
Mann waited whilst Victoria was seated. She declined food but ordered tea. He looked across at her. She was difficult to read. Surely she could not want anything from Mann? They had every reason in the world to mistrust one another. Yet they had things in common. They were both educated in boarding school in England. They both had a Triad for a father. But Mann didn’t intend to follow in his father’s footsteps. She obviously did. He waited for her tea to be poured and for the waiter to step away from the table. Mann wondered what she was really like beneath the cool exterior.
‘My daughter has a business proposal she wishes to put to you.’
Victoria studied Mann as if he were on the menu. After she seemed satisfied about which bit of him she would eat first, she gave a slight curl of her perfectly defined vampire-red mouth. When she spoke she had the merest hint of a lisp. The tiniest gap between her front teeth. ‘Good evening, Inspector. I trust you have enjoyed the evening’s events so far. Did you win?’
‘No. My horse had a better offer right at the end.’ Mann sat back, sipped his vodka and studied her in turn. ‘Tell me, Victoria, what is it with you? I just don’t get it. Well-educated, independent woman of the new order. You could be anything you want. Why choose the life of a Triad?’ Mann’s eyes flicked towards CK. He wouldn’t interfere. He was studying them both as if he were the proud coach of two prize fighters indulging in pre-match banter.
‘I am proud to be working for the Leung Corporation.’ She smiled, her eyes lowered and she inclined her head in a deferential bow towards her father. CK inclined his head back to her. His eyes lit up with menace as he listened with pride to his daughter.
Mann put down his drink, leaned forwards and smiled at Victoria. The ice maiden had nerves of steel. Mann wondered how long it would be before CK had to watch his back; when the pupil became the master. ‘You can use your money, pretty it up to make it look respectable but we all know where it comes from in the beginning. It never crosses your mind that it’s made from selling children into brothels, killing teenagers with drugs. It never for one tiny second crosses that mind of yours to feel a sense of disgust at the way you make your money?’
‘All money comes down to a dirty beginning. I merely accept it once it comes into my hands and I use it to the best of my ability. We have donated large sums of money to local children’s projects in Hong Kong. We are happy to reinvest in Hong Kong’s future.’
‘Schools?’
‘Yes, part of our investment is in schools.’
‘You’re happy to recruit from the kindergarten, you mean?’ Victoria Chan went to answer. He didn’t give her the chance. ‘Which schools? Schools on the immigrant, no hope, wrong side of the track?’
‘If you mean the disadvantaged, then, yes. We aim to provide a better level of education for those struggling in this present system. A voice for the ordinary man who won’t get heard.’
‘That sounds almost democratic. If I hadn’t seen the result of your policies myself I might have gone part way to believing you. A young girl was murdered at one of your initiation ceremonies. I found her body dumped in a box and being eaten by rats. You didn’t give her a voice, did you? You and your underprivileged school kids are murdering one another on Hong
Kong’s streets.’
Victoria Chan eyeballed Mann. She was as cool as a cucumber; he had to give her that.
‘The young girl’s death had nothing to do with me. As a goodwill gesture, as I believe the name of the Wo Shing Shing was somehow implicated, I intend to offer compensation to her family, when you establish her identity. Believe me, I was horrified. It is not my vision of the future, to take a young woman’s life who had so much to offer Hong Kong.’
‘Don’t make me laugh. Admit it; you don’t give a shit about girls like her, they’re ten-a-penny, plenty more where she came from. You’ve created a monster that you don’t have the experience or the knowledge to deal with, it’s out of control.’
CK went to intervene. Victoria’s flick of the eyes, the tiny lift of her perfectly manicured hand told him, No, let me handle it.
‘You have no evidence against me, Inspector; otherwise you would have arrested me already. I sincerely hope that you get whoever killed that poor girl.’ Victoria reached down and opened her briefcase and extracted a slim clear folder. ‘I thought you might be interested in seeing how I intend to help people like that girl’s family and many more. Since my father asked me to take over his business concerns, I have found many things. It seems that your family and mine are linked.’
She smiled politely but remained as cold as steel. Mann looked across at CK. He was enjoying every minute of it.
‘It seems our allegiance goes back even before my father took over the running of the company.’ She pulled out a paper from the file and handed it over to Mann using two hands and with a small bow of the head. It was quaint how they still managed to keep to Chinese etiquette whilst selling souls.
Mann picked it up and glanced at it. It was a photocopy of a handwritten document of the kind rarely seen nowadays. He recognized his father’s signature at the bottom. He recognized the wax seal, red stamp of his father’s Triad organization, the Golden Orchid. Mann had seen it many times in the last few months. His lounge floor was covered in papers with the same seal. But he hadn’t seen this one. He placed it back on the table and pushed it across to Victoria.
‘Let me summarize it for you.’ She was unperturbed, perfectly controlled. ‘It’s a copy of a document that I believe you hold. It is an old legal document that states that your father and the Leung Corporation were two of the original owners of the Mansions and together we hold the majority share. As you are aware, there have been many moves in the past to knock down the Mansions and build a luxury development. It is the best site in Hong Kong for redevelopment, right on the peninsula, right in the heart of the business district.’
Mann shook his head in disbelief. ‘You’re mad.’
She cocked her head to one side and her eyes narrowed to a feline stare as her mouth froze into a mirthless smile. ‘On the contrary, Inspector. For years no one knew who owned the majority share. That’s why no development of it was possible. But I have the evidence here…’ she glanced down at the old piece of paper, ‘…your father was the missing major shareholder.’
‘It’s full of immigrant workers and refugees with nowhere else to go. Where is your community spirit now? Don’t you care?’
‘Oh, I care, Inspector. It’s a fire trap. It’s only a matter of time before it burns down.’ Her eyes settled on Mann’s face, they were shining in the candle light, their colour changing, churning up the riverbed, exposing the weeds. She picked up her tea and sipped it, hardly wetting her lips as she did so.
‘Don’t even think it.’ The place fell silent with the atmosphere. The waiters slunk away to the other side of the restaurant.
‘You misunderstand me, Inspector.’ She smiled demurely, her red lips curling at their edges into a smile. ‘I am only stating the obvious. I am not insinuating that it is in my control. What I propose is that we turn it into the luxury development it was always meant to be but maintain some guesthouses, a restaurant or two.’
‘Keep a flavour, you mean?’
‘Exactly.’
‘And exactly how stupid do you think I am? Got any other propositions? That one stinks.’ He pushed the paper back across the table. He looked at her. She had a smirk on her mouth that said she had picked the ace from the pack and her magic trick had hit its mark. It had shocked one, thrilled the other. Mann’s heart began to slow; the blood in his veins started to freeze. He felt the anger rise inside him. Mann sat back in his chair and looked hard at Victoria. All those years married to Chan must have been her incubation period. Now she had hatched into a black widow spider and Mann was on the menu.
Victoria Chan didn’t flinch. She had learnt to suppress her emotions. Outwardly serene, but like a beautiful snake with exquisite markings, she lured and then waited to strike. She picked up the deed and closed the file shut, then she looked across at her father and bowed. ‘Excuse me, Father, I have many things to attend to.’
CK inclined his head slowly in a gesture of compliance.
‘It was nice to finally meet you, Inspector. Thank you for sparing me your precious time.’ She stood and bowed ceremoniously: low and slow. ‘Don’t discount future dealings between us. Some things have a habit of forcing themselves on you whether you like it or not. Now that you know about your father’s businesses, they can no longer stay hidden. Think about it and let me know.’ She handed him a business card two handed, she bowed, looked up at him from beneath her perfectly arched eyebrow. Her eyes emerald, her mouth smiling.
He took the card from her and studied it. It was elegant, embossed, sharp edged, a lot like her. He turned it over in his hands; it was written in five other languages. Maybe Tammy was right – she did intend to conquer the world.
‘We are not allies, Victoria. If you have taken over from your husband then you and I will be enemies, make no mistake. I don’t care how much stuff you dig up about my father’s sordid dealings; I don’t care if it ends up we are twins, you will never make a friend of me.’ A knowing smile crept across her beautiful mouth. Victoria’s eyes flicked towards her father then flicked back to Mann. CK was enjoying the spectacle. He was intrigued to watch it. Mann was beginning to feel caught in a web with two predatory spiders.
‘I can wait.’ Victoria kept her eyes fixed on Mann’s. ‘I have only begun to look into the ways our paths cross and I am making it my business to find out all about your father: his partners, his investments, his legacy, your legacy. Whether you like it or not our paths have joined, and…’ she inclined her head in a respectful bow, ‘…I believe we have a bright future together. It’s just that you don’t see the light yet, but you will.’
Chapter 20
It was late by the time Mann got back to the office. Shrimp and Ng were out. That left just him, a massive file mountain that he was too wired to tackle and a few sickly looking spider plants on his windowsill. He sat at his desk and closed his eyes for a few seconds. The evening had given him a lot to think about. His personal life seemed to be meeting his professional one head on.
‘Mann?’
A hint of rose banged on the bridge of his nose like smelling salts. Mann didn’t need to turn around to know who it was. ‘Hello, Boss.’ He swivelled his chair around to face her; his head still resting on the backrest. Mia Chou stood in the doorway.
‘How did it go?’
‘Interesting. I met Victoria Chan.’
Mia raised an eyebrow. ‘What was she like?’
‘Ruthless, serpent-like, ice cold like her father, just like he was in the old days, greedy for power and wealth. She has taken over Chan’s job of advisor – Paper Fan.’
‘CK seems on board?’
‘Yes. I’d say he’s grooming her to take over one day. But this is her proving time. She has to get this right.’
‘Why is she interfering with recruitment?’
‘He’s letting her make decisions on all levels. He is letting her prove herself. She doesn’t have to work her way up the ranks. She’s jumping straight in at the deep end.’
‘It’s a brave
choice for both of them. CK must have a lot of faith in his daughter,’ said Mia.
‘Or maybe he’s setting her up to fail?’ said Mann. ‘Either way, we’ll see, but she’s not to be underestimated. It feels to me like she has waited, bided her time and now she is ready to strike. She has been using her time wisely over the years with Chan. I get the feeling she knows a lot about what her late husband was really up to, more than you’d expect a trophy wife to. I think she made it her business to know, and she’s been playing a game. She’s not even making pretence at playing the grieving widow – she’s reborn.’
‘All those years she’s been planning this?’
‘I think so. But there is something about her – she has many faces. She can be many things. She played the dutiful wife, she plays the dutiful daughter. I think she was just waiting for her time to come and now it has. Marriage to Chan must have been a living hell. He was a lowlife. I did her a favour when I made him swim for the shore.’
‘You left him in the middle of the ocean knowing he couldn’t swim and had a phobia about the water, that’s not quite the same.’
‘I don’t feel bad. The sharks would have finished him before he drowned. That was nothing to the agony and suffering he caused to countless others…’ Mann’s voice trailed off. Helen’s face came into his head. But it wasn’t the face he wanted to remember, it was the face of her dying, stretched plastic across it. He shook his head. ‘I did the world a favour. She wouldn’t disagree. I liberated her. But perhaps I swapped one enemy for a worse one. She has already done a good job of setting me up. It’s going to get really tough convincing anyone I’m in it for the right reasons soon, Mia. I’m not sure I’m ready to offer myself as the sacrificial lamb to the slaughter. I am not sure there’ll be enough of me left to go round.’
Mann smiled at Mia. He opened a drawer and pulled out a bottle of vodka. ‘For emergencies.’ He got out two glasses. ‘It’s been too long since we had a drink together.’