‘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 freight 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?’

‘Yes.’ The man answered for them both. ‘We parked our bikes and were looking for somewhere to sit. We smelt it first. Then the noise – a droning. We went to investigate and saw the bag resting at the bottom of the tree. It was partially hidden by twigs and debris and covered in flies. As we approached we saw the arm hanging out.’

The woman began to cry.

Mann turned back to Lok. ‘How far away is the road from here?’ He looked behind them away from the thickest part of the wood.

‘Three hundred metres.’

‘Does the road afford good access?’

‘Yes.’

‘So how close could someone get to this spot before dumping the body?’

‘I would say twenty metres.’

‘It’s still quite a way to carry it. Look for signs of dragging, Shrimp. Look for tyre marks.’

‘Yes, boss.’

Mann looked over towards where the white-suited SOCOs were photographing the remains and searching in a grid system.

‘Is Daniel Lu in charge?’ he asked. For a minute, Mann couldn’t see the man he was looking for. Then he came into view. Daniel Lu stood up, paused in his searching, and acknowledged Mann. Mann had worked with him on many occasions. He was a brilliant Crime Scene Investigator. He was scrupulous and meticulous and found clues when others gave up.

Mann inched closer to the red and white exclusion tape. His eyes focused on the bag and all else in his vision fell away.

‘Do you want to get a little nearer?’

By the time the question was asked, Mann had already done so. He had crossed the exclusion zone. He was contaminating the crime scene. He walked straight across to the bag.

Ng shouted to him.

Daniel Lu looked up as Mann approached.

‘Mann … what the fuck! Get the hell away! Get back!’

Mann didn’t hear him – he just kept walking. His eyes were focused on the bag – nothing else mattered. Like walking into a huge mirror and having it shatter around him, piece by piece his world disintegrated – until all that was left was the arm hanging from the bag. The arm that was wearing Helen’s bracelet.

60

‘You shouldn’t be here, Genghis. You need to get away – anywhere but here.’

Ng and Li stood beside Mann in the mortuary. Mann didn’t answer Ng. He hadn’t said anything for hours, all through the agonising time it had taken for the SOCOs to give the okay for her to be moved. All that time Mann had stood apart, watching and waiting, never taking his eyes from her.