Kiss and Die

Chapter 52

Mann watched one of PJ’s customers dip naan bread into the bright red tandoori sauce and wipe it around the metal bowl. His stomach knotted. Tammy’s blood was ingrained in his fingertips. It had been a terrible night and it showed. Mann was ashen faced and his eyes were smudged and dark with tiredness. Mann had helped the paramedics for forty minutes. They had stabilized Tammy before leaving the market but she was barely alive. He waited for PJ to finish wiping his hands on the white starched napkin that hung over his arm, traditional waiter style, then he called him over.

‘Is everything all right, Inspector?’ PJ smiled, but his eyes showed concern as he looked at Mann’s face. Mann gave a small nod and half a smile by way of answer and thanks for the concern. He took a sip of water and wiped his mouth on the cloth napkin – a nice touch, cloth napkins in a place where all you could eat came for less than a coffee in a plush hotel.

‘Please sit down at a table, eat.’

Mann kept one eye on Hafiz as he talked. He kept glancing over. He worked hard to serve all of the tables; the place had a hundred customers all crammed into what was only ever meant to be someone’s front room.

Mann raised his hand and shook his head. ‘No time, thanks, PJ.’

He looked across at Hafiz who was waiting on the tables. Mann watched him work the tables. Hafiz passed them on the way to the kitchen. Mann grabbed his arm, held on to it tightly. ‘You all right?’

Hafiz was sweating heavily. He looked at Mann’s hand on his arm and then he turned to answer the shouts for service that went up from a table behind them. He nodded. Mann released his arm.

‘Walk me to the hall, PJ. I have some questions.’ Mann got up to leave.

PJ did as he was told and they stood in the airless landing outside the restaurant. PJ stood eye to eye with Mann. The two men: tall, broad-shouldered Mann, PJ with the weight of fifteen more years around his girth and too many poppadoms.

‘Tonight there was trouble in Yau Ma Tei. The Outcasts were involved. Several were wounded. Many were arrested. A young police officer was badly hurt.’ Behind them, through the glass door, Mann could see Hafiz watching them.

‘I am so sorry, Inspector. It is a terrible thing. When people risk their lives in public service.’

‘The thing is, PJ, some Indian youths were amongst those arrested.’ A look of confusion crossed PJ’s face. Mann continued. ‘And your son Mahmud was one of them.’

PJ gasped as he clutched his apron. ‘No, he can’t be.’ PJ shook his head and then instinctively swung round to look through the glass door at Hafiz who was staring back at his father. ‘I do not understand how this has happened. My cleverest son. He will be a doctor, a lawyer. He is the one who has gone bad?’ PJ turned back to Mann. ‘It must be a misunderstanding. It cannot be true…’

‘It’s serious, PJ. We’re still holding him. He’s not talking to us. He won’t tell us why he joined up and he won’t tell us who recruited him. I can’t help him unless he helps me. He was caught with a knife in his hand.’

The colour drained from PJ’s face.

‘Is this the first you’ve heard of Mahmud running with the Outcasts?’

‘Yes. It’s the first I’ve heard of that.’ He shook his head, dazed, in shock. ‘If Mahmud got caught there then it was an accident. You couldn’t get a smarter boy than him. There’s no way it was what it looks like. Mahmud is too smart for that. What is the charge?’ His voice came out loud but shaky.

‘Attempted murder of a police officer.’