He stopped and turned to face Mann.

‘I swore an allegiance to Chan, not CK. That ended in the waters off Cheung Chau. You saw to that. I have agreed to help in the search for CK’s child. I will do all in my power to find her. Then, I will consider my obligation to the Wo Shing Shing satisfied.’

‘Does CK see it that way?’

‘I can take care of myself. I know how to play the game, work the system, but you? You’re pissing people off on purpose. You want to watch it, Mann, you’re making yourself into a walking target. There are several people out there who will pay a great deal of money to see you dead.’

‘That’s the difference between us, Stevie. Being a target doesn’t bother me, but kidnapping schoolchildren and burning women alive does.’

25

‘Yes—keep in touch, okay, I’ll tell her…’

Mann closed his phone and smiled as he saw Becky coming, and got up to get her a glass of wine before coming back to sit opposite her in the Highbury Barn pub. She was wearing the same dark trousers as before, with a different fitted shirt this time, same style, different colour: this one was beige, large pockets on the breasts—girl on safari look—very wholesome with a hint of adventure.

She picked up the menu, and looked at Mann over the top of it.

‘I could have cooked for you again,’ she said, hiding a smile. ‘We didn’t have to eat in a pub.’ She pretended to peruse the lists of what was on offer. She glanced back up to check he was smiling and knew he was being teased.

‘As cosy as it was last time, I’d hate to turn entertaining me into drudgery for you.’

She grinned, embarrassed. ‘I’m sorry. It wasn’t the best of evenings.’

‘It was great—really…’

She put the menu down and looked across to the ‘specials board’ behind the bar. In profile her nose was cute as it turned up slightly. Her lashes looked very long—he realised she had makeup on.

‘You look very nice,’ he said as she turned back to him. He held her gaze and smiled.

‘Thank you, I’m hoping Alex will make it back in time to spend part of the evening with me—it’s our tenth anniversary.’ Her smile seemed strained as it disappeared fast.

‘Is he at home now? You don’t have to stay with me.’

‘No, I don’t expect him till late and he will be eating with clients—busy man. I’m happy to be here, honestly.’ She gave a slightly awkward smile.

Mann finished choosing from the menu and closed it.

‘Tell me about Alex.’

‘Why?’

‘I’m curious, that’s all. We are going to be working together. It’s called “getting to know your partner”, but if you’d rather not talk about it, that’s fine.’

‘Of course I don’t mind…What do you want to know?’

‘How you met, his background, that kind of thing? But wait a minute—I’ll go and order. Have you decided?’ Mann got up to go to the bar.

‘Lasagne and chips…with salad, please.’

Becky watched Mann walk to the bar. She had looked forward to seeing Johnny again this evening. She had thought about him a lot during the day. It was funny, they hardly knew each other, but she felt a real bond with him. If she was truthful the makeup wasn’t for Alex. She knew that Mann would notice it, and that made it worth doing.

He walked back over. ‘Okay, I’m all ears,’ he said.

‘Well…he was privately educated but got chucked out when he didn’t make the grades. Sporty rather than bright. He went to a comprehensive after that. The thing is, he has a real competitive streak in him that came out on the sports field. Ruthless, I think they said. He was a really good footballer. Anyway, in the end he got injured in a tackle, tore all his knee ligaments and that started all the other injuries off. It scuppered his hopes of turning professional as a footballer. He left school with a few GCSEs and went straight into the workplace. He had a brief spell of working as a salesman for pool equipment. He did well at it. That’s when I met him. We got married quite soon after we started living together. The thing is, he got made redundant and since then he’s tried loads of things. He’s the kind of man who will make a business out of anything. There, that enough? Now it’s your turn.’

He grinned at her. ‘I am an open book, Becky—surely you can see that?’

‘Yeah, right!’

‘Okay, ask away.’

Becky waited whilst the waiter brought their cutlery over and placed it on the table before she spoke.

‘I have to be honest—I followed the recent Butcher case you had in Hong Kong. You were involved personally, weren’t you? I am sorry.’

Becky watched as Mann took a few seconds to think about whether he was going to talk about it. She could see he did not do it lightly.

‘Her name was Helen Bateman. She was murdered by one of a syndicate of wealthy men who paid to have her killed in a snuff movie.’

‘The report said her killer is still at large. That must be very hard to deal with?’

Mann looked at her but his eyes were glazed and his thoughts were elsewhere. Becky could see that it wasn’t a nice place to be. His face had become solid and dark.

‘The report is wrong. Both men are dead. The man who organised it all was both an old friend and a bitter enemy. He drowned in the waters around Hong Kong and Helen’s killer died the night I recognised him.’ He refocused on Becky. ‘I saw the movie. I watched her die. He died of injuries very similar to those inflicted on Helen.’

Becky was shocked. His expression said it all—the stories about him were true. He did things his way. She could see he was capable of anything. He had an anger in him, a quest for justice that was un compromising.

‘You must have loved her very much. Were you together long?’ she asked softly.

‘Five years.’ He sat back and studied Becky to see her reaction to the news that he might have had something to do with the men’s death. He knew he had taken a risk. But he knew he was right to do it. She was on his wavelength. She understood. ‘In my own way I did love Helen very much. But she wanted things that I couldn’t give her—the whole kids and marriage thing—I didn’t think it was for me. She got tired of waiting and she called my bluff. Two years ago she packed her case and got in a cab and left. The problem is—that cab ride was the last she ever took.’

Mann had to turn his head away for a few minutes. The truth still sounded strange and terrible to his ears, and the remorse never lessened.

Becky broke the silence. ‘How do you deal with that, Mann? Do you keep asking yourself why?’

‘No, I know why: wrong place, wrong time, right maniac. But I ask myself “what if?”’

‘Can you see yourself with someone else?’

Mann looked hard at Becky. He wasn’t used to so many questions about his personal life, but something made him trust her, made him want to be square with her.

‘There was someone, an English woman named Georgina. She brought me back to life, briefly. I think maybe I could see myself with her, but…’

‘But…?’

‘I’m not ready. Not sure if I ever will be.’

‘A commitment-phobe?’

‘I suppose I am. I don’t ever want someone to die again, just because they know me. I would rather live alone. I am not sure I can take the responsibility of looking after someone else.’

‘Is it all about responsibility for you, about protecting the people you love?’

‘Maybe…I can’t answer that.’ Mann was feeling decidedly uncomfortable by this point. The day that Mann witnessed his father’s execution had changed him forever. Whatever hopes and ambitions he had once held were shattered at that moment, as a chasm appeared beneath Mann’s feet where he had thought there was solid ground. Now, although Mann talked to others and lived and worked with others, inside he existed alone. He was irrevocably damaged. Helen had seen it. She had known there was nothing she could do to change it.