Kiss & Die - Lee Weeks [73]
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.’
Chapter 53
Mann went to the hospital and sat in the chair by Tammy’s bed. He watched the nurses come and go, checking on their patient. The machines breathed for her. The drips fed into her system. Pouches of blood hung from hooks. Mann looked at her and wondered what she was dreaming of. Mann’s dreams scared him. He was too frightened to fall asleep any more. He was frightened to be alone. He felt he belonged to the life of shadows more than ever. Nothing made him happy. Everything brought him a heavy burden. He hadn’t smiled in a long time. He hadn’t had a good sleep for weeks. Mann had so many snapshots of hell locked into his brain that he could barely contain them. When he slept, someone let them out. He longed to run on the top of a mountain range, to lift his head and feel the icy wind cut into his lungs. He longed to be free of the burden of knowing too much, feeling too much. He closed his eyes briefly. He listened to the comforting sound of the machines. He didn’t want to go home. Home was where his heart had been broken. Home was where he didn’t belong.
His body felt heavy. He listened to the sounds of voices in the corridor outside and was comforted by the noise, the odd shout, laugh, whispered concerns and the swish of a uniform, the rolling of trolley wheels. Now, in the quiet of the room, listening to the comforting electronic beep of Tammy’s heart, he felt safe enough to close his eyes and try to sleep. He tried to find that mental paradise – once it had been a white sand beach, listening to the gentle lapping of the waves, feeling the sun on his face and the breeze over his skin.