39

Georgina turned, looked at him, and hesitated, as if she felt it too and was waiting for him to say something – take charge of her destiny. But, even if he wanted to, Mann couldn’t do that. He had far too much on his plate right then. He felt something more than just his job when he looked at her. He saw someone who needed him.

He stopped at the flat door. ‘You know, I was hoping not to find you still working at the club, Miss Johnson. Bernadette’s missing and we don’t know who killed Roxanne Berger. We have found other bodies. I’m not allowed to say too much, but I want you to understand the gravity of the situation. This person killed a woman eighteen years ago, and he killed one just a few days ago. He’s a very dangerous man who has managed to elude detection and capture for many years. That makes him more than lucky: it makes him clever. He picks his victims. They tend to have no family, be in their twenties, may or may not have some connection to the nightclub world … Does that sound familiar? I’m not saying this just to scare you. But he hand-picks these women and he watches them. You should change jobs straight away. We think he strikes either very early in the morning or late at night. If you do nothing else, then at least vary your routines. Don’t let him see a pattern to your movements.’ He stopped abruptly. ‘I am sorry I’ve scared you, but I’d hate to get a call about you.’

‘No, don’t be sorry. It’s kind of you. I will start looking for something else straight away.’ She stepped nearer to him and her eyes stayed on his face as if he were her salvation.

Mann could smell her perfume, feel the heat of her body. He stepped back.

‘I could ask some people I know. I’m sure we could find you something else. What kind of work would interest you? Can you type?’ he said, drumming his fingers in the air.

‘Yes, not bad. I’ll try anything, I don’t mind.’

‘Give in your notice and I’ll ring you as soon as I hear anything.’

The drive back to the Polaris Centre was a quiet one. He knew she must be frightened. She was out of her depth and treading water but he could only do so much. He would throw her a life raft but it was up to her to paddle it to shore. She wanted something from him that he couldn’t give. She wanted to be rescued. She wanted a hero. He wasn’t it. He didn’t want to be it for anyone.

He pulled over to let her out. She thanked him, and the smile that lit up her face returned, albeit briefly. He watched as she turned reluctantly into the centre and back towards work. She glanced back at him, her eyes still focused on him. She looked like a rabbit caught in headlights. He would have a new job for her within days. He would get the life raft inflated, sea worthy, and there his responsibility ended. Anywhere she worked would be better than Club Mercedes.

As he watched her walk away from him and back into the Polaris Centre, he felt a small sense of relief that she had listened. Then he felt uncomfortably anxious. Helen came into his head. The day she’d left would haunt him forever. He had watched her pack her suitcases. Was there nothing he could have done? He had asked himself that question hundreds of times, but the answer was always the same. Yes, probably. But, she had chosen to go, and that was something he had to live with. And he had chosen not to stop her.

He watched Georgina until she was swallowed up by the crowd. Maybe he just needed to get laid. It had been a while since that had happened. He would give Kim a call. It was early. She wouldn’t be starting work yet. She’d have time to see him for a couple of hours. After all, she might have some new information for him, and undercover work was vital to the investigation.

But first there was someone else he needed to speak to.

40

The Albert was a lively pub in Central, established in the sixties. It was somewhat of an antique by Hong Kong terms. It was laid out in three bars of differing sizes and functions. The pub appealed to all ages of expats, but the younger ones stayed mainly in the middle bar, which was big, open and noisy, and difficult to get served in on a weekend. The staff were mainly British, as was the forty-year-old manageress, Mandy. Mann signalled to her as he walked in. She was right in the middle of the dinner trade. She put down her tray of accoutrements: Colman’s mustard, HP sauce and Lea & Perrins.

‘Hi, Mandy, how’s it going? Got time for a chat?’

‘A chat? Doesn’t sound like you, Johnny? What’s up?’

Mann smiled. He liked Mandy: she was tough, but fair. He admired her strong character. She had been dumped by a banker boyfriend ten years previously and, rather than run home, she’d made a good life for herself in the region.

‘Need to talk to you for a few minutes.’

‘Sure, follow me.’

She led him through the bar to the kitchen beyond and out to the staff smoking room, which doubled as the back alley. There were two stools and a pile of cigar ette butts.

‘Sit down, make yourself at home,’ she said, pulling her stool nearer so she could hear him over the noise of the extractors. ‘But, before you start, Johnny, I want to know why you haven’t been in here for ages, and, even now, you turn up without a woman?’

She was grinning but he saw her eyes searching his, knowing that it was a sensitive subject and wondering if she had gone too far.

He smiled reassuringly and shook his head. ‘You know me, Mandy, career comes first.’

‘Rubbish!’ she snorted. ‘Just because she hurt you, Mann, doesn’t mean they all will.’

Mann was beginning to feel uncomfortable. Any mention of his ex always made him feel like someone had just pushed him off a cliff.

‘I need to find myself someone like you, Mandy.’ He grinned.

‘Huh!’ She laughed. ‘I’m too old.’

‘You can’t be much more than fifty.’

‘Cheeky bastard! Anyway, I’m far too bolshy for you. We wouldn’t last five minutes – one of us would be jumping off the sixtieth floor. But thanks for the offer anyway. I’m serious, though, Johnny. It’s been more than two years now – about time you moved on. Did you ever hear from her?’

‘I watched her go, Mandy.’ He shrugged sadly. ‘She definitely wanted out. Anyway, can I please get back to the reason I came here?’

‘Okay. Go on.’

‘We found some bodies – five altogether – dumped out in the New Territories.’

‘Is that all? Christ! I wouldn’t be surprised if there weren’t dozens of them out there. Triads killing other triads. Hopefully that’ll get rid of a few more.’

‘This is different, Mandy. All the victims were women, women like you.’

‘What do you mean … Gwaipohs?’

‘Yes. All foreign women. We think they were mainly workers in the entertainment industry, nightclubs, but we are only just beginning to put names to faces here, Mandy. And, we have no idea how many victims there are, how many more will turn up. This man’s been around a long time, we’re sure of that. His psychological profile is all over the place. We have to assume he could be anybody … He could be a regular of yours, sitting at your bar every night. He could be Foxy, Toad … whatever their stupid names are. Have a think.’

‘All right, Johnny. I’ll be careful and I’ll be vigilant … I promise.’

‘Another thing. Have you got any jobs going here at the moment? I need to get this young Englishwoman out of a club. She’s a nice girl. You’ll like her.’

Mandy raised an inquisitive eyebrow. ‘And?’

‘There’s no and. Just wanted to help her, that’s all.’

‘Help get her horizontal and naked, you mean?’

‘Maybe, but preferably not on a mortuary slab.’

‘Tell her to ring me. I have an Aussie guy returning home next week. She can take his place. She’ll have to work various shifts, some evenings, some days, but I’ll keep her on earlies.’