Jill crossed Victoria Avenue at the traffic lights and walked into the Old Shanghai restaurant. Adam’s father, Guang Lee, owned the restaurant. Jill figured if she had to speak to Adam Lee she might as well order some food from the take-away menu.
‘Can I order braised chicken with cashews to take-away?’
Jill looked at the gold money cat next to the cash register. The cat’s left paw was raised. Jenny Choi had told her the right paw invites money and good fortune while the left invites customers. Judging by the number of people in the restaurant tonight, the cat wasn’t doing its job.
The woman handed Jill her change and passed the order through the open servery to the chef.
‘Is Adam about?’ Jill flashed her ID at the woman behind the counter.
Jill saw the concerned look on the woman’s face. ‘I don’t want trouble.
He’s out the back.’ She jerked her chin to the left. ‘Through the kitchen, first door on right.’
The soles of Jill’s shoes stuck to the floor when she walked into the tiny kitchen. Jill nodded at the chef and stopped to watch as he ladled sauce into a large wok. He gave her a sideward glance and, as if on cue, the wok sizzled and burst into flame. Aniseed, cinnamon, garlic. The aromatic spices reminded Jill of how hungry she was.
At the end of a narrow passage Jill walked past a fire exit and turned to the right. The door looked brand new. And cheap, maybe a Bunning’s stock item. Jill knocked and wondered what sort of reception she would get from Adam Lee now that he was on his home turf.
No answer. Jill waited, knocked again.
‘Piss off, Fin. I don’t want to talk to you,’ came Adam Lee’s voice through the door.
‘It’s Detective Brennan from Chatswood Police.’ Jill turned the door handle and stepped into the room. She stopped dead in her tracks. She hadn’t expected Adam to be on all fours wiping the floor with his t-shirt. His upper torso, bare, a very interesting tattoo on display.
Adam looked up at her. ‘It’s you? I thought it was someone else,’ Adam said. ‘What are you doing here?’ Adam got to his feet and grabbed a t-shirt from the grubby sofa. He turned his back on Jill and struggled to get the t-shirt over his head.
Jill hoped the surprise wouldn’t show in her voice. ‘I was hungry, thought I’d order some Chinese take-away. Knew you lived here so…what were you doing just know? It smells like a brewery in here.’
‘Had an accident, spilt me beer, didn’t I.’
Adam grabbed another can of beer from the bar fridge. He pointed the can in her direction. ‘Want one?’ He popped the top.
Jill shook her head. ‘How’s the chest?’
‘Still hurts but it’s better than it was.’
‘Miss? Your order is ready.’
Jill turned around. The woman who had taken her order handed Jill a bag with her take-away inside.
‘I added prawn chips, no charge for you.’
Jill was shaken but hoped it didn’t show. She took the bag from the woman and thanked her. She turned back to Adam. ‘I’d better go. Glad to see you’re looking so well, Adam.’ She took a step towards the door, stopped, and turned around. ‘You thought I was Fin just now. Fin’s an unusual name.’ Jill grabbed the door handle.
Adam ignored the comment, instead saying, ‘Enjoy your take-away.’
Jill walked in through the front doors of Chatswood Police Station.
‘What are you doing here? You’re not rostered on tonight.’ The station officer leant over the counter. ‘But I see you’ve brought me my dinner. Smells, good.’
‘Yeah, in your dreams.’ Jill looked towards the stairs. ‘Listen, something’s come up; I have to talk to the boss. Is he in his office?’
‘No and you won’t find anybody else upstairs either. We’re operating on a skeleton staff. Everyone’s been called out to a house in Mowbray Road. There’s been a brawl between two teenage gangs. Five teenagers were taken to North Shore Hospital.’
Jill hesitated, mulling over whether to log in from home to submit the report on Adam Lee or go up to her desk. In the end the food was the decider. Better to eat it hot at her desk than re-heat it at home. ‘I need to log a report. And I’ll eat my take-away while I’m at it.’ Jill held the plastic bag up for the station officer to smell.
The station officer shook his head.
Jill walked up the stairs to the detectives’ room. She sat down at her desk and opened the plastic bag, crunched on a prawn chip and pulled out a fork and the container of food. She took a mouthful of chicken and logged onto her computer. Her visit to the restaurant had been a lucky break. She’d been surprised to see the tattoo, the circle with the red Chinese characters on Adam Lee’s stomach. So, Adam Lee was a member of the Red Cave Gang. He hadn’t meant for her to see it. She knew what it meant and Adam Lee knew, she knew. And Fin? Adam Lee must be the boy Katrina Andrel had told her Robbie was worried about hanging around Fin. She thought about phoning Rimis to share her discovery with him but decided it could wait until tomorrow. He would have plenty on his plate at the moment. And besides she was wrecked. If she had an early night she’d be in a better position in the morning to face whatever the day threw at her.
She dumped the empty container in the bin and logged a report on Adam Lee. Fifteen minutes later, she shut down the computer and grabbed her shoulder bag. She pulled on her coat and prepared herself for the cold shock of the street after the warmth of the station. On her way out she said goodnight to the station officer.
When Jill arrived back at her car, light rain was falling. Would the rain ever stop? She started the car and headed home. The road sparkled with the glare of headlights, cars whooshed by and all she could think about was getting home.
Jill parked her car, locked it and ran through a line of puddles to the front door of her apartment block. The body corporate still hadn’t organised the security system they’d promised. She made a mental note to call her landlord tomorrow and talk to him about it.
Jill ran her hand through her damp hair and pressed the automatic light sensor before she climbed the stairs to her apartment. All was quiet in the stairwell with no television sets blaring or lights under the doors of her neighbours’ apartments. The timed lights in the stairwell went out. She didn’t bother to switch them on again. When she reached the second floor, she froze.
No…how could it be?
The door to her apartment was ajar. She pulled out her gun, released the safety, held it out in front of her and pushed the door open with the tip of her boot. She identified herself, scanned the room in front of her and crept around the apartment checking each room as she went. When she walked into her bedroom, she drew a breath. ‘Police! Freeze.’
Someone hit her from behind, grabbed her in a headlock. She twisted, tried to break free from the strong grip. The last thing Jill remembered was her attacker’s breath. It smelt of aniseed, cinnamon and garlic.