by Lee Week
He wasn’t ready to know about Helen yet. He still had a chance of finding Georgina alive – that’s what he must concentrate on.
‘Huh?’
‘You liked Georgina. She liked you. She wasn’t in that prison at your house. She wasn’t one of the photos on the wall. But someone had been there recently, hadn’t they, Max? Who was that? Where is she now?’
‘I don’t know where she is.’ Max stood almost involuntarily. He wanted so desperately to escape.
‘You want to leave, Max? I bet those women wanted to leave too? They didn’t get the chance either.’
Mann pulled Max’s chair out from beneath him and picked him up by the collar. He drove him backwards to the wall, knocking the table over in the process. He pinned him there – gripping him by the throat. Max hung from his hand like a rag doll. His eyes bulged and his face turned blue.
‘You ready to talk, Max?’
Max looked straight into Mann’s eyes, as if he willed him to end it for him. Mann waited an extra second until Max’s eyes grew distant, then he dropped him.
‘Do you think I would make it that easy for you, Max? Oh no! You and your brother have lots to come. Of course, I have the power to make things slightly more comfortable – better treatment, maybe even get permission to allow you to stay together if you cooperate. Tell me where Bernadette and Georgina are right now. Are they alive?’
Max wheezed and coughed and shook his head fiercely from side to side. He was still fighting for breath. His arms flailed as he banged his hands on the stone floor, trying to force the air past his squashed throat.
Mann walked away, picked up the table and chairs and sat down again.
Ng picked Max up roughly and sat him back in the chair opposite Mann. Max shrank into the seat and began fiddling with his fingers, while sweat poured down his face and arms.
‘I don’t know where she is. I’m not saying any more.’
Mann turned to Ng. ‘I’m leaving.’ He’d achieve more by leaving Max to ponder his fate for twenty minutes. Meanwhile, he’d go back downstairs and check on the idiot.
‘Let me know when he wants to talk. I’m going to find some pliers – there are some teeth that need pulling.’
82
‘How is it going, Georgina?’
She stood before him. She had lost weight. Her collarbones jutted above her neckline. Her skin was sallow and papery and her dark eyes were lightless. ‘Come and sit here.’ He patted the chair beside him. She wavered for a moment, then gave in and sighed heavily as she sat beside him.
‘How long will I have to stay?’ she said, with such weariness and sadness that, if he had been capable of feelings, it would have moved him.
‘Why? Are you in such a hurry to leave me? You know, I have become very fond of you, Georgina.’ He laid his hand on her thigh. She felt the heat of his hand through the fabric of her dress, the warm heaviness of it, and she wilted. The faintest smile appeared on her sad face and she shivered.
‘You are cold. Come here.’ He sat her on his lap. She was heavy and limp, like a child.
Georgina lost track of time as the days fused, and she stopped counting them. She stopped fighting and rolled up her sleeve. She felt them tap her vein and tighten the tourniquet. She felt the rush that started in her abdomen and spread warm relief throughout her body. Hours passed like days as she lay on her bed staring through pupils the size of pinheads – days came and went like years. She was sure she would die there. She would die and no one would ever find her. She knew in her heart that Ka Lei was dead. She felt it and she saw it sometimes. She lay on her bed and slipped into a dream zone and she saw Ka Lei walk around the room in no man’s land, waiting for her Georgina. She saw her own life in celluloid snippets. Hours and lives played out in slow motion. She heard others talk about her. She heard her own heartbeat in her ear. She saw her hands move and wondered who they belonged to. The earth turned and the earth’s core roared beneath her. She listened to it. She heard the women talk Cantonese in the Golden Dragon restaurant. She looked out, with a child’s eye, from within the folds of her mother’s skirt. And she stared deep into her mother’s eyes and relived the last minutes before Feng Ying’s death – listening to the life departing and to the breath that says: I am not the last, not quite, not yet … here I am. She turned her body inside out and sent her blood to the perimeters of the room, in a loop, opening and closing valves, each squirt of blood pumping its way to the room’s corners, smashing into the walls and splintering into a million red droplets, then reforming, back to beat loudly inside her eardrum.
I am a fox … Boom Boom … caught in a snare… Boom Boom … and the hunt is coming … Boom Boom …The hunt is coming …
83
Man Po was sitting cross-legged on the floor, his big stomach spread out in front of him. He was crying, convulsing, not with remorse but with anger and fear.
‘Just deliver meat,’ he said as Mann approached. ‘Just feed pigs. Did nothing wrong.’ Then Man Po crawled forward on his hands and knees and shouted obscenities at Mann.
‘You want to see your father again?’
Man Po stopped shouting and nodded, his face covered in tears and snot. Saliva drenched his shirt front.
‘You just have to tell me what happened to the women in the photos.’ Mann showed him the pictures, one by one.
Man Po shook his head. ‘Poor, pretty women – just died.’
‘How did they die?’
‘Don’t know. Just dead.’
‘You killed them, Man Po, didn’t you?’
‘No. No. NO.’
‘What about this one?’ Mann showed him the photo of Beverly Mathews taken at her cousin’s wedding. Man Po stared at it, and his face crumbled. He started to cry.
‘Didn’t mean to kill her.’ He shook his head miserably.
‘But you did, didn’t you? You killed her. What about the others? Your brother kidnapped them for you, didn’t he? You and your brother held them captive in the old surgery. Did you kill them there?’
Man Po sat down on the floor and covered his face with his hands.
‘You took their bodies to your workplace and cut them up. You kept some of the bodies there a long time, didn’t you? You kept them in the freezers at work. But then you had to get rid of them because you were going to lose your job, weren’t you, Man Po? It is all going to change.’
Man Po looked at Mann, wide-eyed, and nodded. His shoulders started heaving again as the crying resumed. His nose was running. He sniffed loudly and forgot to suck the saliva back up through the lazy side of his mouth.
‘What about your last victim?’ Mann dreaded the answer. ‘What about Georgina? What have you done with her? Where is she now?’
Man Po looked at Mann with a blank expression.
‘Miss Geor-gi-na?’
‘Yes. Georgina, staying at Lucy’s flat. The Eurasian girl. Where is she?’
Man Po shook his head and cried louder, then he started to bang his head against the cell wall. ‘Just delivery man – that’s all.’
Li appeared beside Mann. ‘There are photos of twenty-two different women up on the walls,’ he whispered.
‘What about the jars? What’s in them?’
‘Human organs: ovaries, breasts, that kinda thing. Oh yeah … and there’s a jar full of fingers and toes.’
‘Did they search the rest of the place?’
‘They’re doing it right now. So far they’ve found nothing.’
‘What about the Ho Young Dim Sum Manufacturers?’
‘Yeah, they’re out there – the SOCOs. I’ve heard nothing back from them yet.’
‘I want a list of pig farms that supply them with meat. I want all of them searched and all their meat production halted till we get a look at them.’
‘Okay. What about him?’ Li pointed at Man Po.
‘He’s starting to talk. How is Max doing upstairs?’
‘Smoking one cigarette after another and pacing about the room.’
‘No, but he looks like he wants to.’
‘Okay. I’ll be back up in a minute.’
Mann went back to talk to Man Po, who was still banging his head rhythmically against the wall. ‘You can see your brother, Man Po. But you have to tell me how you killed the women first.’
Man Po stopped crying and wiped his face with his hand. He looked up at Mann.
‘She was so pretty. She liked me. I didn’t mean to hurt her. Never hurt them – just like them when they are dead. Never hurt them. I’m just a delivery man.’ He repeated the last sentence over and over and sank back to his corner of the cell, sobbing.
84
Lucy was packing. It was a slow job. She just hadn’t the energy to do it fast. The funeral had drained away her last gram of strength. She had not been able to take Ka Lei’s ashes. She’d never realised that there was so much left after cremation. She had opted to have the ashes made into diamonds, and Frank had bought her a necklace with a locket attached. When the stone arrived she’d have it set into a golden heart.
It shouldn’t be taking so long. She only had a few items that she really valued, and anyway, Frank had offered to buy her anything she needed when they reached the States. It should have been an easy job, then, but whole lives had to be condensed and crammed into one suitcase. Sorting Ka Lei’s belongings was the most difficult. It was so hard to know what to leave behind, what to shut the door on and say goodbye to, and what to take with her to her new life.
The weather didn’t help, it was sticky and hot. It didn’t occur to Lucy to put the air-conditioning on – years of frugal living had taught her to live without it. So, a job she knew that she must hurry had taken her all day so far.
She pushed aside the half-sorted piles of belongings and slumped into misery, sighing more and more until that became her mode of breathing – big, deep, regretful sighs. Occasionally she stopped and wept. It was not often Lucy wept. The noise wrenched from her – an alien sound. It filled the flat, the noise of her sorrow. Then, gradually, it subsided.
She stared out of the window. The glass was dirty from all the mucky rain that seemed to have fallen non-stop that summer and was hanging on longer than it should. The room had taken on a foggy quality, as if she were sitting in a dream, or in a cloudy memory. Just for a few seconds Lucy allowed her eyes to fill with tears again, let her breath fall on a sob before she caught it midair and snatched it back. Snap out of it, she scolded herself. She had gone through it all a million times and nothing would bring Ka Lei back. She must pack her bags, pack up her life and move on. But her eyes were magnetically drawn towards the flat door and to the balcony on the landing beyond, daring her to retrace her sister’s steps on that evening.
She got up and started towards the apartment door, but didn’t dare open it or stand on the balcony, gripping the railing, and look over. She didn’t want to see the last image her sister had seen that night. She didn’t want to know what her sister had thought of last as she prepared to tip herself over the edge. What was it? Georgina came into her mind like a lightning strike. Like a migraine flash. It distorted her vision and tugged as a tic at the corner of her eye – Georgina. Then Chan came into her thoughts. He was to blame for all of it. She could not fool herself. And Lucy had played a major part in it, and she would carry her guilt forever.
She stood abruptly and brushed the creases out of her skirt. Enough! She had had enough of guilt and pain. She was so tired of recriminations. She was full of life. She wanted to live. She wanted to start again with Frank. She wanted this chance to be happy. She deserved it as much as anyone.
She smiled when she thought of Frank. He was waiting for her at the Hilton. He would be so excited right now. He was doing some last-minute shopping – ‘secrets’, he told her – things she would find out about in time! Lucy was to spend just two more nights in Hong Kong, then they would leave for the airport and catch the evening flight to Miami, and she would be gone, starting their life together in Florida. Frank said they would pick up a car and drive to the Captiva house on the beach. They would make that stilt-house shake! He would take her out on his Harley (once he’d learned to ride it) and she could have as many leather outfits as she wanted.
Frank was becoming more attractive to her every minute. She loved his new image – especially his hair extensions – he looked like a movie star!
But where was her lovely Ka Lei? Where was her baby sister? Lucy dabbed her eyes carefully with a tissue. She could do without the red-eyed look. She needed to look at her most attractive for Frank and she couldn’t risk any upsets now. Feeling slightly better, she continued her packing. She would soon be out of the flat and away forever. She would carry her sister in her heart (and around her neck), but she had her own life to live. For the first time in her life she was having a lucky break.
She went into the bathroom and retouched her make-up. She was going to Club Mercedes for the last time. She had some things to sell and the foreign girls were the only ones who would buy any of Georgina’s belongings. The Chinese would never wear secondhand and, anyway, the clothes were too big for the local girls. She had no need to call Max because she would hail a taxi from the corner of Johnson Road, just as easy. Anyway, there was something strange going on with Max these days. He seemed not to be looking after himself and he was acting oddly. Lucy finished dressing and left the flat, promising herself that she would tackle the rest of the packing when she got back.
Club Mercedes looked the same as it always did. It was in its usual bubble, existing in its own time and space. Although it was early there were a lot of punters in. The Dressing Room was packed with hostesses, all in various stages of readiness.
There were a lot of new faces that Lucy didn’t know. There were some missing, though: Candy had finished funding her boyfriend’s deli and left, and Bernadette had still not been found. There were a bunch of new Europeans, a couple of English girls among them, doing the rounds of the Orient. Lucy didn’t feel too inclined to be friendly but she wanted to sell her things. She went over to introduce herself and make small talk. She was just about to produce her wares when Mamasan Linda came to find her.
85
‘Good girl, Lucy. There are plenty of men for you tonight. Your face looks like it healed well.’
‘Sorry, Mamasan,’ Lucy laughed. ‘I can’t work any more. I am engaged.’ She flashed the huge diamond Frank had given her. Mamasan Linda grabbed her hand and held it closer to get a better look.
‘Very nice. Good diamond. Good girl. Very clever, Lucy. Who are you marrying?’
‘You remember the big American – Flank?’
‘Aye! Big Flank! Such a good man, lucky you! But it’s not so good for me. I lose you.’
‘Sorry, Mamasan, but here is a gift from Flank to you.’ As was the custom with hostesses who made a good catch, Lucy handed her mamasan an envelope containing a generous amount of cash, to ease the blow of losing a good earner. Mamasan Linda took it graciously and inclined her head respectfully.
‘I wish you much happiness, Lucy.’
‘Thank you, Mamasan.’
‘And Lucy, so sorry to hear about your sister, very sad.’
Before Lucy had a chance to respond, Mamasan Linda’s name came over the tannoy.
‘Aye! be back in a minute …’ She was called to the floor, leaving Lucy to sell her things to the Gwaipohs. In the end she managed to sell Georgina’s CD player, nearly all of her clothes and some of her jewellery that Lucy didn’t want for herself. She’d made a few dollars out of it, enough to buy herself some new lingerie. She estimated she wouldn’t need much more than that in Florida.
She was chatting to some of the hostesses when Mamasan Linda re-entered the Dressing Room.
‘Lucy, I need you, come, juz for one minute.’
‘What for?’ Lucy felt her pulse quicken.
‘There’s an important guest asking for you. I told him: Lucy’s getting married, no more boyfriend
s. But he said he just had to see you for a few minutes … Come on, I’ll take you there!’
Lucy’s heart raced. She knew who it must be. She could try and run for it. But how far would she get? He was bound to have his men in the club somewhere. She would be caught before she got as far as the elevator. She had no choice. She had to face him. She had to do just enough to be able to get on that plane and get out.
She finished up in the Dressing Room and reluctantly followed Mamasan Linda.
Chan was alone in one of the small VIP rooms at the back of the club. He was very tired – worn out by his whistlestop tour of the frozen North, where he’d been sent on a menial business trip by CK. But Chan knew it wasn’t wise to push CK too hard. Not even he could expect to get away with it. He still had to do what he was told, for now.
‘Ah, Lucy! How nice to see you. Please, sit down!’
He motioned for her to come closer. Lucy was about to choose the chair furthest away from him, until he pulled the nearest one towards him and patted it.
‘I was just leaving when Mamasan Linda told me your news. How lucky that I happened to come in today, and that you happened to be here?’
Lucy smiled, tight-lipped. Mamasan Linda deemed it best to leave; she made some excuse about being needed somewhere else and promptly disappeared.
As soon as they were alone, Chan leaned back in his chair and stared hard at Lucy, his large, dark eyes focused with anger.
‘When were you going to tell me about Ka Lei? Was I supposed to find out from your mamasan that she is dead?’
Lucy looked around her – the room seemed uncomfortably small. ‘Nothing to say for yourself? You were supposed to be looking after her; that’s what I paid you for.’
She looked towards the door. She wanted to run.
‘That was the deal, wasn’t it? All you had to do was devote yourself to looking after my new concubine. All you had to do was stay at home, look after Ka Lei. Too much, was it, Lucy? Couldn’t resist the temptation to go out and earn some extra, huh?’