She took a taxi, her imagination working overtime as the cab dragged its way through heavy traffic. The Mid-levels was on the Hong Kong side of Victoria Harbour. The streets to that area ran from the harbour through Central and up the mountain towards Victoria Peak, or “the Peak,” as it was commonly referred to. The higher the real estate, the greater the cost. The Mid-levels, as the name implied, was halfway between the harbour and the Peak. The neighbourhood was mainly residential, nearly entirely apartment buildings, and home to the comfortably retired, senior managers, and a younger crowd that aspired to eventually buy higher.
Ava had no idea what to expect when she reached the apartment, other than that she was sure it somehow involved Lok and Wu.
They lived in an older apartment building, only twenty storeys high, with red-brick walls and small windows, but still posh enough to have a doorman. She told him who she was there to see. “They called down,” he said as he opened the door for her.
Their unit was on the eighteenth floor. As Ava stood in the elevator her anger turned into anxiety. If those guys are going to keep doing stupid things they’ll have to do it on their own, she thought.
When Amanda opened the door, her face streaked with black where the mascara had run, her eyes puffy, her nose running. She threw herself at Ava, wrapping her arms around her neck.
“What’s going on?” Ava asked.
“He’s in the bedroom,” she sobbed.
“Then let’s go to the bedroom,” Ava said, untangling herself from Amanda’s embrace.
Amanda grabbed her hand and pulled her across the room, which was furnished in black leather with large glass tables. The walls were bare and the tables had nothing on them. A man’s apartment, Ava thought.
Michael lay on the bed. He was wearing the same slacks and shirt she’d seen the day before, except now the pants were grimy and torn at one knee and the shirt was stained with blood. He was holding an ice pack to his face, and when he heard them enter the bedroom, he removed it. His lip was cut in two places. One ear was red and mangled. There was dried blood under his nose.
“They’ve got Simon,” he said.
Ava sat on the bed so she could have a better look at the damage they’d done. It was mainly superficial, except for a cigarette burn on the back of his hand that would leave a permanent scar. Nothing was broken. She opened his shirt to look for bruising but didn’t see any, which calmed her concerns about injuries to his internal organs. Overall it was the kind of abuse that sent a message, meant to scare more than to hurt.
Michael seemed to be in a state of shock, his body twitching of its own accord. She knew his reaction was out of proportion to the physical beating he had taken, but he was someone who had probably never encountered physical violence and didn’t have the psychological means to put it into perspective.
“I think it would be better if you moved around a bit, assuming you can,” she said.
He sat up.
“I’d like Amanda to take you to the bathroom. Have a warm shower and change into some clean clothes. Then we’ll sit and talk, okay?”
He nodded.
“And, Amanda, wash your face too. He’s going to be all right. It looks worse than it is.”
Ava sat at their kitchen table and waited. The refrigerator door was plastered with photos fixed with magnets. Michael and Amanda at Tokyo Disneyland. Michael and Amanda at the Happy Valley Racetrack. A picture of Michael with three other young men, perhaps his brothers — her brothers. She moved closer to have a good look and the family resemblance almost blew her away.
When Michael emerged from the bathroom, he had already regained some of his natural colour. Amanda had washed, and without makeup she was actually prettier than with it, Ava thought.
“Do you have coffee?” Ava asked.
“I brewed some an hour ago,” Amanda said.
“Perfect.”
“I’ll have one too,” Michael said.
As Amanda fussed with the cups, Ava reached out to Michael, her hand caressing his cheek. He flinched and she knew he still felt unsteady.
“How did this happen?” she asked.
He drew a deep breath. “We were so fucking stupid.”
“That’s obvious, but it isn’t helpful. You need to tell me what happened.”
“He phoned me last night around seven o’clock.”
“Lok?”
“Yes, Lok. He phoned me to say that he and Wu had been