‘This is Hong Kong – it isn’t all black and white, Mann.’

‘No, it’s all the colour of money, isn’t it, David?’

‘If that were true we wouldn’t be standing here, would we? I know you are frustrated, Mann, I know you would like things done differently. But don’t lose sight of the goal. Things don’t always come right when they are supposed to, but eventually people get what they deserve. A few years down the line they have to account for their misdeeds – even if they end up punished for something different, they get it in the end.’

Mann laughed – hollow and cynical. ‘Now that bit I do believe. But sometimes you have to hurry the process of retribution. Sometimes it doesn’t come quick enough and you have to give it a hand.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Today, after I saw the way that girl suffered, I know that I won’t be able to watch these men walk free, David. I just can’t do it.’

‘Mann …’ White held up his hand to speak, but Mann wouldn’t let him.

‘Listen to me, David. I just won’t do it. I won’t let those killers off the hook. If the Hong Kong police force can’t get justice for them, I will do it – my way.’

92

Mann left Headquarters and headed along Hollywood Road. He needed some head space and he knew where he’d find it. Past the antique shops and curio stalls he found Man Mo temple – the oldest temple on the Island, green tiled roof, the colour of oxidised bronze, red calligraphy on the doors. It epitomized the heart of Hong Kong – no matter how many Westerners came and went it would always be Chinese. The place was still an everyday place of worship for Taoists and Buddhists alike.

Mann slipped through the doors as the last rays of the sun were just hitting the roof of the temple. Inside the air was blue with smoke and the smell of sandal-wood from the large incense coils that hung suspended from the ceiling. He walked up the stone steps to the altar and stood for a few moments before the statues of the gods – Man Cheung, the God of literature, dressed in green, and Kwan Yu, the God of war, dressed in red. A few worshippers were offering up their gifts of fruit and flowers and others were knelt in prayer. Mann lit an incense stick and placed it in a large brass urn before kneeling beside one of them.

‘Hedging your bets, Johnny?’ Stevie Ho finished his prayers and reached up to place his incense in the urn in front of the God of war.

‘I wouldn’t call it hedging, Stevie. Looking at life from every angle, that’s all.’

‘Why did you ring me? What is it you want from me, Johnny?’

‘My ex-girlfriend, Helen, turned up as one of the victims of the Butcher. Now another friend of mine has gone missing.’

‘I’m sorry to hear that. I ask again what do you want from me?’

‘We think the Butcher doesn’t only kill the women himself; he sells them to the highest bidder to be used in snuff movies.’

‘Why did you think I would know anything about this, Johnny?’

‘Because the Butcher has friends in very high places – triad friends. Your friends.’

‘It could be anyone. There are many powerful triads.’

‘That’s where you’re wrong. The Butcher is a very special type of man. A man who doesn’t mind breaking every rule in the book as long as he can make money from it. It’s all about money and power, Stevie, isn’t it?’

Stevie looked at him. ‘I don’t know anything, Johnny.’ He looked riled. He stood, bowed to the deities and turned to Mann. ‘I will give you this piece of advice, Johnny: stay away from Chan. He’s growing tired of your persecution.’

Mann stood up, picked out the stick of incense that Stevie had placed in the urn and turned it upside down in the sand.

‘Thanks for the advice, Stevie. Now let me give you some – try and remember what’s right and what’s wrong because when the day of reckoning comes no amount of incense is going to save you.’

Mann walked out of the temple, leaving Stevie at the altar. He started the steep descent down Ladder Street. He wasn’t ready to go back to the office yet. He was sick and tired but his heart raced with adrenalin and anger. Mann checked his phone. Five missed calls. Unknown caller. He put it back in his pocket – it could wait. He was still trying to make his brain function methodically. It was a mess – a jumble of loose cables sparking off one another.

His phone rang again. He put his hand in his pocket and pressed the busy button. At the other end of the phone Kim crouched beside her bed, out of sight, and cursed Mann for not answering his phone. She estimated she had just fifteen minutes before the guard realised his phone was missing. She’d already used up twelve of those minutes trying to make Mann pick up.

A moped nearly ran Mann over. He cursed it as he jumped out of the way. His phone rang again. Whoever it was they could wait five fucking minutes … He fumbled in his pocket. He couldn’t find the busy button – he’d have to switch it off properly. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and pressed the answer button by mistake. Then he heard her voice.

‘Johnny?’

He stopped dead and cupped his ear over the phone. ‘Kim? Where the fuck are you?’ He felt enormous relief at hearing her voice.

‘I am some place that I wish I wasn’t, that’s for fuckin’ sure.’

‘You all right?’ She sounded petrified.

‘No, not really, Johnny.’

‘So, where are you?’

‘I have no fuckin’ idea. I am in a club called Sixty-Eight, Chan owns it. He conned me into coming here. He said he had this club with foreign hostesses and he needed me to look after them, be their mamasan. But there’s such weird shit going on here, Johnny, they’re not telling me about most of it. He has us all prisoners here. There’s no way to get out, believe me – I’ve tried.’

‘How long did it take you to get there? Did you drive?’

‘We helicoptered in – took about forty minutes. It’s in the middle of fuckin’ nowhere, Johnny. I have no idea. All I know is that we’re in mainland China.’

‘Do you remember what you saw on the way?’

‘We flew north over Kowloon, small villages, reservoirs, country parks. Then we turned towards the west. We flew over old industrial sites, great big craters, no one workin’ in them. We could be anywhere.’

‘It’s all right, Kim. I’ll find you. Is it heavily guarded?’

‘Yes.’

‘How many men are there? Are they armed?’

‘There are two dozen security officers here – at least – and all carry guns. Plus, there are about ten of Chan’s personal bodyguards that come and go. The whole place is a fortress.’

‘Are there any other foreign women there at the moment?’

‘There’s an English girl here … Georgina …’

‘Is she okay?’

‘Yes and no. They won’t let me see her. I don’t know whether she’s still alive.’

‘What about an Irish girl – Bernadette –?’

‘She was here – I don’t know where she is right now. I have to go, Johnny. I can’t stay on the phone. I stole it from one of the guards. He’s going to miss it anytime now.’

‘You watch yourself now. You be careful. I will get there as fast as I can. I want to see you safe and sound, Kim, do you understand?’

‘You get here, Johnny. I’m gonna luv you forever. But be quick.’

93

‘Kim said she flew west over an old industrial site. She said there were craters. Find me some disused mines – about forty minutes’ helicopter ride from here. That’s where the girls are.’

Ng’s finger hovered above the page.

‘Here.’ Ng traced a line of pock marks on the map.

‘Kim says they have Bernadette and Georgina out there. That’s where our girls will have been going, for sure.’ He stopped in the doorway. ‘I’ve already told the Super. He’s organising transport. I’ll go and tell him we’re almost ready to leave. And Ng … guess what it’s called?’