Lee Weeks - Trafficked

‘Can’t they afford doors?’

Mann didn’t much care for the new premises—he loved the oak and brass of the old headquarters. They walked around to the far side and into one of the screened spaces—loosely termed an office. Inside were twelve workstations and PCs back to back, all occupied. He didn’t recognise any of the people there, then he saw someone he did know as the slight frame of Detective Li, aka Shrimp, walked in. An expert in computers and martial arts, the young man was also an experimental dresser. Today, a purple silk shirt was tucked neatly into drainpipe trousers. He beamed up from a face that looked as if it had been scrubbed with a wire brush. He shook Mann’s hand with an extra-firm grip that he’d been practising since the last time Mann had caught him out and nearly crushed his hand.

‘How’s it going, Shrimp?’

‘Awesome, boss.’

‘Huh!’ Ng rolled his eyes. ‘He’s lucky to still be here. He’s in trouble for letting you lead him astray.’

‘Is that true, Shrimp?’ Mann said as the three moved to the far end of the office so that they would not be overheard.

Shrimp shrugged and shook his head as he excused himself for a minute and walked away to fetch something.

Ng made sure no one was listening. ‘You nearly got him suspended after he was asked what he was doing on Cheung Chau when the man under investigation mysteriously disappeared.’

‘It was a tragic accident. He couldn’t swim—we weren’t to know that.’ A smile flickered up the side of Mann’s face.

Ng chuckled. ‘Yeah, justice comes in many forms.’

Shrimp reappeared and handed Mann a stack of mail.

‘You missed David White’s leaving do,’ said Ng.

‘Any good?’ Mann said as he scanned the mail then threw it all into a waste basket.

‘We had a great time…he didn’t show.’

‘Where is he now?’

‘He’s gone to the UK. He left a message for you.’ Ng pulled out a note from his jacket pocket.

Mann smiled to himself as he read it—just like David White to do a runner before his own party. He never did do what people expected.

JM

I won’t be around to bail you out so try and keep out of trouble and don’t get yourself killed. Remember what I said—if you cross the line too often you can’t come back from the other side. Have given the cat to your mother. Watch who you trust, Mann. Hope to see you in London one day. Got to go—got to buy some slippers, apparently there’s a rush on.

DW

Ng came over and patted Mann on the back. He had that look on his face that Mann recognised: there was an in-joke going around and he was the butt of it.

‘You better not keep the new Super waiting.’ He grinned and glanced towards the neighbouring office. ‘We took bets in the department on how long before you get transferred again. That’s why we haven’t allocated you a desk.’

‘Thanks for the vote of confidence.’ Mann put on his jacket and slipped his phone into the pocket.

‘He asked to see you the minute you got here,’ said Shrimp.

‘And there he is!’ Mann gestured towards a small figure in uniform, sitting behind a large desk. ‘All right, I’m gone.’

‘Let us know which intersection you get,’ Ng called after him. ‘We’ll come and wave at you.’

Mann gave Ng the finger and walked out.

‘You wanted to see me, sir?’

The newly appointed Superintendent was young for the post—in his mid-forties. He was ten years older than Mann but he looked a lot more. Mann doubted whether he had ever looked healthy. He was an exam-taker—a pen-pusher. He had spent too many hours swotting in bad light.

Wong was a slight man with a round face that was dominated by square chrome-rimmed glasses. His hair was pressed flat with the straightest side parting and a touch of psoriasis. He tugged at his cuffs now to hide the eczema around his wrists where the shirt-sleeves rubbed. His desk was super neat, just a desk-tidy full of sharpened pencils and highlighters and a photo of his wife and two kids in a dark wood frame. They all looked just like him. It was a lucky promotion for him. Mann could see he was still savouring it. When Wong finally spoke he didn’t look at Mann, but carried on filling in the form in front of him.

‘Don’t think for one minute I want you here, Inspector Mann,’ he said, finally closing the file and pushing it to one side. ‘You’re a trouble-maker, a rule-breaker. In the end you make it hard for all of us. If I had a choice I wouldn’t have men like you in the force at all.’

He replaced his pen back in the desk-tidy, sat back in his chair and stared hard at Mann. Mann could out-stare most men—a thing he’d learned to perfect when dealing with triads.

‘But…it seems I have no choice.’ Wong was forced to blink, but made up for it by smiling sarcastically. ‘You have made yourself some influential friends. Your assistance has been especially requested. That is why I had you recalled from vacation. You are to help in a kidnap case.’

‘Find someone else. I’m investigating a new trafficking ring. I can’t afford to take time out.’ Wong was going to drive Mann mad. He paused more than he spoke. Mann hadn’t the time for it. He took a deep breath to let his temper subside. He would play ball, then he would get out and do his own thing—like he always did.

‘As I said, you have been especially requested. Your friend— CK Leung—has insisted that you help in the investigation into his daughter’s kidnap.’

Mann felt the hair bristle on the back of his neck. ‘He’s no friend of mine.’

‘Whatever you think of him, Inspector Mann, he is one of Hong Kong’s wealthiest citizens.’

‘Wealthiest triads, you mean. They look after their own. Let them sort it out between themselves.’

‘He happens to be the Dragon Head of the Wo Shing Shing triad society, yes, but he deserves our help like anyone else. Anyway, we have no choice in the matter. It is not a situation any of us like.’

‘The only daughter of his that I know is Victoria Chan, and she’s a grown woman.’

‘Amy Tang is his daughter by a girlfriend. She has been kidnapped—snatched from a boarding school in England. A ransom was paid two weeks ago but she hasn’t been returned. She’s the third wealthy Chinese kid to be kidnapped in the last two months in the UK.’

‘The others were returned unharmed?’

‘Yes.’

‘Did they take her in daylight? Were there any witnesses?’

‘It was during the day. Some children saw her with a man—but their descriptions aren’t good.’

‘He doesn’t know that. People saw him. That’s the point. He doesn’t intend to free her. This is not to do with money—not with this child. They’re making a statement. It’s to do with teaching CK a lesson. It’s triad business. Like I said—let them sort it out amongst themselves.’

‘We don’t have that option. You are from England, isn’t that right?’

Mann could see he’d been building up to this.

‘I’m from Hong Kong. But my mother is British. I was educated in the UK.’

‘Well, we are sending you home.’ Wong laughed like a mountain goat falling off a cliff. Mann repressed a shudder. ‘The Metropolitan police have undercover agents in Chinatown but haven’t come up with anything so far. You are to go to London and help with the investigation.’

‘Send someone else.’

‘It has to be you.’

Mann kept his eyes fixed on Wong whilst he dug furtively into his pocket. He found what he was looking for, flicked open his phone and pressed the ‘record’ button.

‘In real terms I have nothing to lose by refusing. You intend to have me transferred anyway, it’s already common knowledge. I want some reassurance if I agree to go. So, here’s the deal…I go to London for you and, in return, I get to stay in the OCTB…for at least the next two years.’