Read Online Night Heron by Adam Brookes - Free Book Online Page B

front of his face. Peanut brought the hairdryer down again, deliberately catching the ends of the fingers, which brought a screech of pain. Then again, to the head, a swinging,arching blow just above the forehead that put the man on his knees. Two, three more, fast, this time around the face. The nose went with a sound like a ripe fruit shattering and the metallic surface of the hairdryer took on a bloody sheen. Peanut carried on working, breathing hard. The scalp had split and blood was pouring freely down the man’s face. The meat cleaver kid was yelling about getting the others. Then he was gone, scampering out of the front of the salon.
    Sunglasses was on the floor, still conscious, but barely. Blood was coming from his mouth. He held an arm half-raised.
    Peanut stood up, nearly losing his footing on the bloody floor, grabbed a fistful of Sunglasses’ hair and dragged him to the door and out on to the newly clean steps. Meat cleaver kid and two others were running up the street towards the Blue Diamond, but stopped when they saw Peanut holding their comrade, and then not holding him any more, so he fell limply down the steps and lay on the road.
    Peanut faced them. “Who’s in charge?”
    They pointed to Sunglasses, who lay unmoving.
    “Tell him you don’t touch this business any more. Others, do what you must, but not this one. Tell him, if he comes again I will break his back.”
    They nodded dumbly. The meat cleaver kid tried to get Sunglasses to his feet. The man lolled and retched.
    Peanut swept up broken glass and mopped up the blood. He had put on his stained green trousers, but was still shirtless. The inhabitants of the Blue Diamond sat and studied his smooth bulk. Eventually the barrel-shaped woman—they called her Dandan Mama—cleared her throat.
    “I’m not sure if we should be grateful or fearful, frankly.”
    Peanut leaned against the door jamb and lit a cigarette. Shaky again, but he didn’t let them see it.
    “How long had you been paying them off?”
    “A couple of months.” She paused. “Are we going to have to pay you off now?”
    Peanut shook his head and exhaled. “No payment. I could stay around if you want, though.”
    Silence.
    “Give me somewhere to sleep and I’ll work for food and tips. Look after the place for a few weeks. Make sure they don’t come back again.”
    They emptied a storeroom at the back of the building and laid a mattress on the floor. Out of fear? Or am I useful? he wondered. He tipped the contents of the carrier bag into a small basket. Beautiful Peony brought him a flask of hot water, and a mug, and a packet of green tea.
    “My name’s Yin,” she said.

5
    Beijing
    So began his next incarnation, as assistant to the Blue Diamond Beauty Salon. In his mind it was cover and an operational base. He went into the street little, and spoke to no one beyond the salon and the restaurant.
    The rhythm of his days took shape quickly. In the mornings he cleaned, and changed the stained sheets in the dim little back rooms. Dandan Mama found her sinks had a new shine and peeling paintwork had been smoothed and retouched.
    He took to making the girls an early lunch, always the same, a big bowl of rice topped with vegetables in a spicy cumin broth, which they liked, and teased him about. So
exotic!
Where did you learn to cook with cumin? Where?
    The afternoons were his own, before trade began picking up as the dark came down, and the migrant workers stumbled into the salon with beer and sorghum liquor on their breath. At night he sat on a stool next to the beaded curtain and smoked, and the girls felt safer, and the clients, their hands gritty from the building sites, were better behaved.
    A week after his return to the capital Peanut took a bus that lumbered into the city. He got off at Jianguomenwai, close to the diplomatic compound, and waited near its north gate.
    He struck up conversations with some of the women coming in and out, many of whom cooked and cleaned for