Trophy Taker

by Lee Weeks

  ‘That was forensics, boss. You asked whether Roxanne Berger had bitten her tongue. She had.’

  ‘Did you work out why?’

  He looked at his scribbled notes. ‘Electrocuted during the torture?’

  ‘Correct. Anything else?’

  ‘Gosia too. A biopsy of her nipple showed that she had tissue damage from an electrode. No nipple damage for Roxanne, though.’

  ‘He probably used a cattle prod. What about the fly larvae?’

  ‘Two sets – unhatched – one set before they were frozen, second set got in the bag.’

  ‘Means they were frozen within twenty-four hours.’

  ‘Except Beverly, she had pupae, not far from hatching, the pathologist said.’

  ‘So, she was different. It was at least a week before she got frozen, or disposed of.’

  ‘Why’s she different?’

  ‘Because she was the first.’

  56

  Mann was headed to the bars in Tsim Sha Tsui east. On the way he passed the Albert. It wouldn’t hurt to call in – see if Mandy had any information for him. He might even catch a glimpse of Georgina.

  He joined the noisy groups of office workers desperate for that first drink – that first slug of ice-cold Chardonnay, or gulp of San Miguel – all filing into the Albert ready to start their evening. He man oeuvred his way past them to the front of the bar.

  Georgina was polishing glasses and listening politely to a couple of old colonials – Foxy and Badger. He could see that she wasn’t really listening. She was smiling when required, but her thoughts were elsewhere.

  She looked up from her glass-polishing and beamed as she saw him approach. She looked pleased to see him, thought Mann, even if her eyes had a distance in them.

  ‘Hello, Miss Johnson. How’s it going? Everything all right?’

  ‘Hello, Inspector. Not bad, thanks.’

  ‘Call me Johnny or Mann, I don’t mind, anything so long as it’s not rude. Settled in?’ He nodded in the direction of the old colonials – who grunted a greeting and looked decidedly uncomfortable in his presence.

  ‘Really well. Thanks for getting me this job. I love it here.’

  That bit was true, Mann could see. Her face brightened. She didn’t hesitate.

  ‘And we love having her here.’ Mandy came up behind her, put a protective arm around her shoulders and gave them a squeeze. ‘All right, Johnny?’ she said as she walked on past on her way to the middle bar to take the first meal orders of the evening.

  ‘Yes thanks, Mandy,’ he called after her. ‘Thought I’d see how Georgina was getting on. See if she wanted to file any complaints against the management, lecherous locals, that sort of thing.’

  Mandy was almost out of sight. She turned and winked at him and waved a reassuring hand to Foxy and Badger to say that Mann wasn’t meaning them – when he obviously was.

  ‘She gets Tuesday off, by the way,’ she shouted back over her shoulder, before disappearing into the next bar.

  Mann grinned at Georgina and nodded in the direction of Mandy. ‘She’s an old friend; she knows me too well.’ His phone buzzed just then. He checked the screen – there was a message from Li. ‘I have to go. But I’ll call back to see you soon. Then I’ll take you on a sightseeing tour – as soon as things calm down.’

  ‘Sounds great.’

  He paused. ‘Is there anything worrying you? Anything I can help with?’

  She hesitated, then shook her head. ‘I’m fine – really. Come and find me when you’ve caught the Butcher. I’d love to come out with you, when you have time.’

  ‘Look forward to it then.’

  As he walked towards the door he saw a man he recognised. It was the surgeon from Oliver’s Bar. Mandy was serving a customer. Mann nodded to her and she came over.

  ‘What’s up?’

  ‘That man over there – the silver-haired one?’

  ‘Peter Farringdon. He’s a surgeon. Really nice man. Comes in here about once a week.’

  ‘Does he ever come in with a woman?’

  ‘Hmmm.’ She thought for a moment. ‘No, I’ve never seen him with one. Although, I have heard that he buys the odd service. Girls talk, you know.’

  ‘What type of girl?’

  She looked at him incredulously. ‘Never had you down for naive, Mann. The kind who sells it.’

  ‘I mean, what nationality?’

  ‘Foreign. Always Gwaipoh.’

  Mann got outside, checked his messages and rang Shrimp. ‘What’s up? You left me a message?’

  ‘The lab report has just come back. We’ve got a new link between these women.’

  ‘Go on …’

  ‘They all have soil debris on them that’s contamin ated with pig blood. There are even pig hairs in the residue from Beverly Mathews’ hair. Plus, the abrasions on the back of victim four’s legs – where she was dragged – clogged with pig hairs.’

  ‘So, they have all been dismembered in a place that’s been used to slaughter pigs. Good work, Shrimp. Get Ng on to it. I want him out looking at all the slaughter houses in the New Territories, all the farms. Tell him he can close the lot down if he needs to. Anything else?’

  ‘You’re going to like this. The knife he uses has a nick in it. It leaves a distinctive shape in the cut.’

  ‘Shit! Well done, Shrimp! Good lad. Anything else?’

  ‘There are sixty-eight cigarette burns on Gosia’s chest.’

  57

  Ng and Johnny Mann took the ferry across the harbour to Kowloon. The evening rush was just beginning to slow down. It gave them time to talk and a change of scenery to do it in.

  ‘I get this niggle in my head about the Butcher, Ng. The inconsistencies in his profile just don’t add up. No clear idea of age … only that he has to be over forty. In some ways he seems very organised. He plans these girls’ abductions very well. He waits for his chosen victim. That would indicate someone of a high level of intelligence. Someone sociable and probably well-liked. He might even have a family. He could easily be a prominent member of society. But then he is disposing of the bodies in a hurry. In a careless and disorganised manner. That would indicate a loner, a man of low intelligence. Why take all that care to kill them and then leave their remains around for us to find?’

  ‘Nothing is clear. This butcher has one knife, but many sides to his blade.’

  They disembarked and headed up Nathan Road, before turning left onto Peking Road. The road opened out to an area swarming with gap-year kids and young locals. Along the street was an Irish pub, two Aussie bars, a Kiwi place and a steak house, all within spitting distance of each other and all nestled between traditional Chinese girly bars. In front of them was the largest and most notorious of Hong Kong’s backpacker hostels. It was an area where young kids were constantly hassled to part with their money. After a few drinks they could buy a fake watch, sign up for a trip to China and get laid – all by the same person.

  Shrimp was waiting for them. He looked like an extra from Miami Vice today. Mann sent Ng on to O’Reilly’s to get what he could from the local Irish expats about Bernadette. They would meet again in forty minutes and work their way up the street in tandem.

  Mann and Shrimp crossed the street and pushed through the swing doors of The Western – a saloonthemed pub with sawdust on the floor, dead animals on the walls and an impressive collection of spurs.

  A rotund middle-aged Filipina named Annie was in the process of collecting glasses as they swung through the doors.

  ‘Watcha, Johnny,’ she drawled, and nodded in the direction of Shrimp.

  ‘How you doing, Annie? Meet my colleague – Li.’

  Her eyes lit up and she gave a wet-lipped smile. ‘Hello, handsome.’

  Li stood rigid, panic-stricken, gave his girly giggle and looked to Mann for help. Mann grinned and wagged his finger at her.

  ‘The older you get, the worse you become, Annie.’

  She laughed like a full-strength smoker who can never quite
clear her throat, pushed her Stetson to the back of her head and pulled down her fringed waistcoat. Then, swinging her hips into action, she shimmied over. ‘Always had a big appetite for life – you know me, Johnny, can’t seem to grow out of it …’

  Mann watched her and marvelled how she still had it. She’d been wearing the same cowgirl suit for at least twenty years. When she’d first put it on the gun belt had hung at a lazy slant from her nubile hips; now it was wedged around her midriff. But she moved those hips like a belly dancer. She was still a very sexy woman.

  ‘You got a licence for those?’ He leaned forward to kiss her cheek and pointed to the two antique guns she had in the belt. She gave a deep-throated giggle and reached up to kiss him. She loved the same old joke, and Mann always obliged her.

  She put her hands up in the surrender position. ‘You just gonna have to take me in, Johnny. You’ll need cuffs, though,’ she purred. ‘I should warn you – I aint’ goin’ quietly.’ She reached out and ran her finger down the buttons of Li’s pink shirt. ‘I might promise to behave for your friend, though – just keep it to a whimper and it’ll be his choice – with or without the cuffs.’

  Li blushed scarlet. Annie laughed and coughed at the same time.

  ‘Same old Annie. The only way you know how to behave is badly. Get me a drink and I’ll think about it. He could do with educating.’ Mann winked at Li, who hadn’t understood all the patter, but he’d seen the exchange of looks and it was enough to petrify him.

  Annie winked back as she went behind the bar to pour their drinks – two vodka tonics. She turned back from the optics, set their drinks down, and leaned over the bar, squeezing her breasts into an impressive cleavage.

  ‘You’re looking good, Annie.’

  ‘Thank you, Johnny,’ she said, keeping her eyes on Li and rocking from one cowboy boot to the other.

  ‘How’s it all been going?’ Mann asked.

  ‘Dandy. Just dandy. Never better.’

  ‘Yes, and really?’

  ‘Crap.’ She turned back to Mann and the smile dis appeared.

  ‘Don’t worry, it’ll pick up now. The high season is on its way. It already feels cooler out there. People will be pouring in here soon.’

  ‘I hope so. I hope so. Ain’t gonna afford bullets for these here guns else …’ She patted her holster and gave a wry smile. ‘But … as much as I love to see the bestlookin’ cop in Hong Kong – you’re here on business, aren’t ya? What is it you want to know?’

  ‘I wanted to ask you something about the old days.’

  She looked perplexed. ‘What old days?’

  ‘Before you took this bar on.’

  ‘Huh! You must be jokin’, Johnny. I can’t remember that far back.’

  ‘I mean when you were a working girl, Annie.’

  ‘Ahhhhh. I see! Okay, what do you wanna know, apart from the fact I was the best there was.’ She ran her tongue around her lips and grinned at Li, who shuffled nervously over to study the spurs collection.

  ‘Anyone that was around then, who’s still around? Anyone who was a regular of yours?’

  ‘A couple. Of course, I don’t know whether they’re still into the same action. But then it’s a hard habit to break – so I should think they are. Let me see … I haven’t seen him in a while, but there’s James Dudley-Smythe. He was a really good customer of mine. Liked his booze a bit too much, and most of the time he needed help to get anything going. You had to know how to handle him, though – give him half a chance and he could get nasty. He had quite a collection of mean-lookin’ whips in that cupboard of his. But … if you knew how … he was easy. Some of the girls used to get him drunk first. I used to insist that he wore the handcuffs.’

  ‘Anyone else?’

  ‘I had several clients who came regularly from abroad. I still see them around town. They look older now, of course. I remember their faces, and certain other things about them, but not their names.’

  ‘Any more locals?’

  She shook her head. ‘Can’t think of any.’

  ‘Any word on the street about someone getting nasty? Really nasty?’

  She shook her head. ‘No one’s spoken to me about it. If one of the girls had been hurt I would have been told. Hang on a minute! There was some talk recently. I heard these young lads talkin’ in here. They’d been buyin’ films off a stall on Nathan Road. One of them got taken round the back and shown weird stuff. Apparently there are some dodgy films going around.’

  ‘What kind of films?’

  ‘Not your usual. This young lad was shaken up. He’d only seen a clip. He said it looked like a snuff movie.’

  58

  Mann, Ng and Li were stood in room 210, telling David White about the film Annie had mentioned. The Superintendent looked seriously in need of sleep. His eyes were rubbed sore, his face was ashen and he was irritable as hell.

  ‘It was probably some twenty-year-old spotty-faced virgin who mistook a blow job for death by suffocation. Whatever it was, you didn’t find evidence of it, did you? You didn’t find evidence of any snuff movies for sale? I don’t think we’ll find that these films have anything to do with the death of our women. Now, let’s get back to what we know. Any leads on Bernadette?’

  ‘She went to the area, mainly to O’Reilly’s, about once a fortnight – on her night off. She picked up men sometimes. I was given the names of a few people that she used to talk to. I’ve already contacted a couple on the list. I’m waiting to hear back from the others,’ said Ng.

  ‘Good. Okay.’

  The Superintendent sat back in his chair and rubbed his head. ‘How many pig farms have been located?’

  Li flicked through his notes.

  ‘There are two hundred and sixty-five pig farms, sir. Mainly concentrated in the northern New Territories. They are small, family-run concerns.’

  ‘The government’s trying to phase them out. Apparently they’re unhygienic and they are taking up land that could be used for residential development,’ added Ng.

  ‘The samples from the victims? Does it narrow it down at all?’

  ‘We checked the rope analysis and the bags that the victims were found in. Both are common to ninety per cent of the farms,’ said Ng.

  Superintendent White laid the photos of the victims out on his desk. ‘Tell me about the torture. Is it always the same?’

  ‘No, it isn’t. Two were electrocuted. One was burnt with cigarettes. One was branded. Excessive bruising, small cuts,’ said Mann. ‘It varies a lot. He’s not sticking to the rules here – most serial killers have their trademark way of torturing – it’s part of their fantasy. He doesn’t.’

  ‘And the way they died?’

  ‘Asphyxiation by various means. Some with the aid of a ligature, some not.’

  ‘Other similarities?’

  ‘He gave heroin to at least two of the victims. Maybe to numb the pain? But why would he care?’ mused Ng.

  ‘Maybe because he could do worse things to them if they couldn’t feel it – make it last,’ answered the Superintendent. ‘Or maybe just to keep them quiet while he held them hostage. Some showed signs of substantial weight loss, didn’t they? He obviously kept some of them hidden for a long time.’

  ‘Yes, and I think he needed help to do that. I think we’re looking for a double act.’

  Mann paused as an officer knocked and stepped inside. ‘What is it?’

  ‘We’ve found some more, sir.’

  59

  ‘Let’s go. Shrimp … Ng? Let’s move. The helicopter’s waiting. The SOCOs are on the way, they will be there before us.’

  The helicopter circled over Headquarters before heading north. It would take them thirty minutes to fly, two hours to drive. Mann had an anxious feeling deep in his stomach. He didn’t mind helicopters. It was the thought of what they’d find at the other end. He sat back and let the rush of cool air clear his head, watching the scenery unfolding beneath him.

  They crossed the harbour. Large fr
eight ships and small fishing vessels dotted the water below – gleaming in the sunshine. They passed over Tsim Sha Tsui and the banks and multinational corporations. Past the commercial districts and over the housing estates and market streets of Kowloon and Mong Kok. As they flew over the New Territories, villages, walled cities and patchwork rice fields embroidered the ground beneath them. From the ultimate in modern design in the business district they came to oxen tilling the rice fields. It wasn’t long before they were flying over a country park and a vast area of water came into view. It was Plover Cove. Not actually a cove, but a reservoir, manmade with water brought from China.

  The place was quiet – as you’d expect on a weekday – no families, no kids – tranquil. The water sat idyllic and inviting below. The area was green and lush. The pilot pointed out some activity to Mann. It was on the edge of a wooded area to the right, below them. Mann could see the SOCOs at work. Two police vans and a squad car were there. About ten policemen were standing around outside the cordoned area; just three white-suited SOCOs inside. The less people who walked over the actual crime scene, the better.

  Mann indicated to the pilot where he wanted to set the helicopter down. They landed twenty metres outside the exclusion zone. Mann, Ng and Li stepped out onto a flat grassed area outside the wooded thicket that stretched between the reservoir and the road. They made their way across to the police vans and were met by Sergeant Lok. Mann knew Lok by reputation, although he’d never met him before. He held the honor of the most corrupt policeman ever to get away with it in the New Territories.

  ‘Did this couple find the bag?’

  Mann pointed to a stupefied-looking couple in their early thirties. Wearing matching tracksuits, they sat huddled together on the grass, next to their matching bicycles.

  Lok nodded, Mann introduced himself to them. ‘You were looking for a picnic spot?’