55

The next morning was one of the rare occasions that Mann, Ng and Li were in the office at the same time. The Superintendent joined them. Mann placed the autopsy photo of Beverly Mathews’ decapitated head next to the old one taken at her cousin’s wedding three weeks before her death.

‘He seems to have a thing for good-looking women,’ said the Superintendent, who was looking over Mann’s shoulder as he added the pictures of Gosia and Roxanne. ‘He has a clear type that he likes.’

‘Not precise …’ said Ng.

‘No, you’re right. Some serial killers narrow it down to the colour, length and centre parting of the victim’s hair. Not our man. He just likes a good-looking woman of a certain age and ethnicity,’ said the Super.

‘Which fits a lot of women in the entertainment industry here in Hong Kong,’ added Mann, ‘and since we asked for information we’ve had lots of new leads to follow. We have missing women being reported at the rate of one a day at the moment. Most of them turn up within forty-eight hours.’

‘I wish we knew more about him,’ said the Super.

‘All we are certain of is that he lives here in Hong Kong and has for the last eighteen years. He knows the terrain well. He has some medical or butchery skills. Because of his treatment of women – he bites – it would indicate an infancy problem. The profilers say that he has missed out on a whole section of maternal, feminine nurturing. All that shit. So, they’re saying he has no mother, either she left or she died, and that unhinged him,’ said Mann.

‘Do they think he lives alone or with someone who knows what he is doing?’ asked the Superintendent.

‘They suspect someone within his family knows about the bodies. The way he holds on to them – he has to keep them somewhere. Someone else has to know. He might have an accomplice.’

‘He must be wealthy enough to have his own transport, unless it comes with his work. Wealthy enough to be able to get close to the girls – they’re not likely to follow some tramp back home. These girls cost big money,’ said the Superintendent. ‘And, these women stick out like sore thumbs. It wouldn’t be easy to kidnap them off the streets – possible, but not easy in these crowds.’

‘Yes. You’d have a hard job persuading one to go quietly without attracting too much attention. He must have a clever way of gaining their trust, or he must have mega bucks,’ said Mann.

‘Where is he storing them? It must take up a lot of room, keeping these bodies on ice? He has to have a lot of freezer space,’ said the Superintendent.

‘He doesn’t have to own the freezers – maybe he has them at work,’ answered Mann.

‘But why get rid of them now?’

‘He is being disturbed in some way,’ said Ng.

‘We are not ruling out triad involvement,’ Mann added.

The Superintendent looked at him curiously. ‘Can’t see what the angle would be. They make their money from drugs, prostitution, gambling and people trafficking. I don’t think it is a triad – too messy, too careless. Not their kind of thing. They invest in mainstream entertainment, restaurants, clubs, taxi firms, legit businesses. Anyway, keep me informed.’

The Superintendent left. Two minutes later Li got a phone call. He listened intently and scribbled notes onto a pad on his desk. He turned to Mann as the call ended.

‘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.’