Ava bought a bottle of white wine at the hotel bar and carried it in an ice bucket to her room. The air conditioning had been turned off again. She swore as she restarted it. Then she poured herself a glass and settled into the rattan chair. “Time to think,” she said to herself.
It took her an hour to create a scenario that just might work. She called Patrick. “Where are you?”
“At Seto’s house.”
“Could you come and get me?”
Ava was quiet in the truck. She could tell that Patrick was anxious to ask her questions. But there was nothing to be said until she had a firmer grasp on the plan, and when she did it would be the Captain she would speak to first.
Seto was sitting in the kitchen, still handcuffed and taped to the chair. She thought he was sleeping until he raised his head at the sound of feet crossing the tiled floor. She touched him on the arm and said in Cantonese, “I need your email password.”
“Waterrat.”
The man has no imagination, she thought. She had the Barrett’s Bank file in her hand. She opened it and looked at some of the most recent correspondence. Several names and email addresses were involved.
“Who is your primary contact at Barrett’s?”
“Jeremy Bates.”
“Is he the manager?”
“Yeah. It’s a small staff. Jeremy handles most of the clients.”
She climbed the stairs to his office. One of the cops sat on the floor outside the master bedroom. “Everything okay?” she asked.
“The woman started wailing a while ago. I had to shut her up.”
Ava didn’t ask how.
The computer was still online. She accessed Seto’s email account and brought up his address book. There was a Jeremy Bates listed. She checked it against the email address she had in the Barrett’s file. They matched. She then hit messages sent, typed in bates, and requested a search. There were close to twenty emails that had gone back and forth. She took notice of Seto’s style. His tone was more formal than she had thought it would be. Also more candid — Seto hadn’t been reluctant to discuss his financial affairs.
She began composing an email to Jeremy Bates. Hi, Mr. Bates, I’m coming to Road Town on February 26 or 27. I will be making a wire transfer to Hong Kong in the amount of $7,000,000. I would appreciate it if you could have the paperwork organized for me. I will be bringing a Ms. Ava Lee with me to the office. She is the accountant for the firm in Hong Kong that we are doing business with. Ms. Lee is there to confirm the wire transfer in the amount specified. You have my permission to share any and all information regarding the S amp;A account with her. Once our travel arrangements have been confirmed I will contact you to set a date and time for us to meet at your office. Yours sincerely,
Jackson Seto.
She clicked the save draft icon.
It was lunchtime in Hong Kong. She phoned Uncle. “I’m still in Guyana and I’m still working on getting this project finished,” she said quickly. “It’s going to be two days more, maybe three, maybe four. I’m getting there, but progress is slower than expected.”
“Any specific reason for the delay?”
“I have to go to the BVI.”
She could almost feel his grip tightening on the phone. “That wasn’t the plan,” he said.
“The plan had to be changed. The outcome will be the same.”
“Are you going alone?”
“No,” she said. “Seto is coming with me, and I’m going to bring Derek down to help.”
“Is it that complicated?”
“I just need an extra pair of capable hands,” she said. Uncle would be even more nervous now, knowing she had to bring Derek Liang into the picture. He had worked with her on five other occasions, and every one of them had been problematic or worse.
“If you think it is necessary,” he said quietly, after a pause.
At the very outset of their relationship, Ava had been present at a meeting between Uncle and a Macau businessman who wanted to hire them. Despite his need for their assistance, he played his cards close to his chest, giving them the absolute minimum amount of information. Uncle had grown impatient with the man’s vagueness and began asking questions that became more and more pointed. Finally the man threw up his hands and said, “Believe me, you have enough information. Trust me, trust me — you have everything you need.”
Uncle had refused the assignment. As they rode the hydrofoil back to Hong Kong he said to Ava, “Whenever someone says, ‘Believe me,’ or ‘Trust me,’ and can’t give you a reason to do so that you can wrap your arms around, run the other way. For me they are the most dangerous words anyone can utter; they are the refuge of the weak.”
In all the years since, those words had never crossed her lips. The day she had to ask for his trust would be the day she was no longer working with him. And she liked to believe that the same was true in reverse. Even if Uncle was full of reservations, he would never express them. His confidence in her was complete, and even if things went horribly bad — which they sometimes did — he never second-guessed her.
“Yes, I do think it is necessary.”
“Is there anything else?
“Do you remember the time I used Fong Accounting as a cover?”
“Yes.”
“I need to do it again.”
“Do you still have the business card?”
“I do.”
“What are the circumstances?”
“When I get to the BVI, I’ll be calling on Seto’s bank, Barrett’s, and I’m going as an accountant. The bank may call Fong to confirm my identity. It’s a long shot that they will, but it’s better to play it safe.”
“What name is on the card?”
“Ava Lee.”
“Okay, I’ll talk to Mr. Fong and we’ll set it up. Is there anything you’d like the office to tell any callers?”
“I’m travelling in the Caribbean — on business, mind you. And you could tell them to offer to provide my cellphone number if the caller wants to reach me.”
“Is that all?”
“No. We’ll need to send more money to our friends in Guyana.”
He didn’t react right away. She could only imagine the questions that were raging through his head. They were already out of pocket more than $100,000 and now she was asking him to send more. Bringing Derek in would cost at least $10,000. If she didn’t collect from Seto, how big a loss would they be looking at?
She cut him off before he could speak. “Uncle, I’ve found more money than Tam is owed — a lot more. We’ll get our full commission plus a bonus on top of that.”
“What is the amount we need to send?”
“I don’t know; I’m still negotiating,” she said. “All I know is that Tam’s money isn’t going to be recovered anytime soon unless we make the investment.”
“When will you know?”
“Tomorrow. No later than tomorrow.”
“I’ll expect your call,” he said.
“Uncle, I’m sorry about this. I know you’re anxious to get started with Tommy Ordonez.”
“He’ll have to wait. You look after yourself. You be careful.”
Ava next dialled Derek Liang’s cellphone number. She didn’t reach him until the third attempt. When she did, she could hardly hear him speak over the music that was booming in the background. He was a karaoke junkie and fancied himself as Jackie Cheung, Hong Kong’s biggest Cantonese pop star. She yelled at him to go outside.
She had known Derek for six years. They had been introduced by their bak mei instructor, who thought that his only two students should get acquainted. Derek joked that their teacher had visions of them mating and producing the ultimate fighting machine. Even if her sexuality wouldn’t get in the way of that happening, Derek would be close to her last choice as a partner. He was the only son of a wealthy Shanghai trader and had been sent to Toronto to get a university education. He had dropped out during his second year and devoted himself to martial arts, customized sports cars, karaoke, and women. She didn’t think she had seen him twice with either the same woman or the same car.
But Derek was smart and he was tough — very tough. Over six feet tall, lean and chiselled, well-spoken in English and three Chinese dialects, and a tasteful, conservative dresser when he chose, he made a hell of an impression. He and Ava had posed as a couple several times. Hand in hand, they drew stares everywhere they went. Now they were about to do it again.
“I need you to go to the British Virgin Islands,” she said.
“When?”
“Tomorrow, if possible.”
“I’ll be meeting you there?”
“Yes, but I’m not sure when I’ll arrive. Could be a day or two later.”
“I’m sure I can find something to amuse me.”
“We’ll need a suite — a big one, as big as you can get. Someone else will be travelling with us. Can you look after getting the suite?”
“Of course.”
“Email me when you’ve made the arrangements.”
Ava paid Derek two thousand dollars a day plus expenses. The first time they worked together he had tried to refuse the money. He said he didn’t need it, which was true enough. Ava had ranted at him in Cantonese, which is close to the perfect language for hurling abuse, with its harsh consonants and piercing tone. He took the money and never questioned the arrangement again. For her it was strictly business. If he worked for no money, she would be indebted to him. If she paid, he was indebted to her.
She opened the email she had drafted to Jeremy Bates and read it over. Ava decided it didn’t sound authentic and tried again. Dear Mr. Bates, I am arriving in the BVI in the next day or two. I am bringing with me a Ms. Ava Lee, who I am introducing to you via this email. She is the accountant for a firm in Hong Kong that we are going to partner with. I am going to be doing a wire transfer in the amount of $7,000,000 to the firm. Ms. Lee will be with me to confirm the transaction, and I would appreciate it if the bank would treat her as my associate. She has complete access to all of our banking records, and by way of this correspondence I am authorizing the bank to provide her with any and all additional information she needs. As soon as our travel arrangements are finalized, I will contact you to set up a time for us to come to your offices. Sincerely, Jackson Seto
That’s better, she thought, and hit send.
It was almost midnight. Ava wasn’t tired, so she headed downstairs to find Patrick. He was on the couch, watching television.
“Could you call the Captain for me, please?” she asked.
“Now?” he said, looking at his watch, a Panerai that would have cost about five thousand dollars if it were real.
“Yes, tell him I’m ready to chat. I don’t want to wait until morning.”
“I’m not sure this is a good idea.”
“Give me his number and I’ll call him myself.”
Patrick lifted himself off the couch with a grunt. “Wait here,” he said.
He went outside to phone the Captain. She wondered what they could be discussing that they didn’t want her to hear. He was back inside in less than a minute, holding out the phone to her. “He wants to talk to you.”
She took the phone. “Hello.”
“Go somewhere we can speak in private,” the Captain said.
Ava climbed the stairs to Seto’s office, closing the door behind her. “I’m alone,” she said.
“I didn’t expect to hear from you quite so quickly.”
“It’s mid-morning in Hong Kong. If we’re going to wire more money it could be done in the next few hours. Why waste an entire day?”
“So you have concocted a plan?”
“I know how to get back what is owed.”
“You are a clever girl.”
She assumed he was being sarcastic. “It can be done, and with no fuss.”
“Would you like to share it?”
“I have to manage Seto; I have to keep him on ice,” she began, and then outlined her plan. “If this works — and I don’t know why it wouldn’t — it will come down to my ability to convince the bank manager to release the funds. And I think I’ve already created the framework for that to succeed.” When she finished detailing what she had done, she added, “I need you to understand that I’m not about to do anything that will put you at risk with any BVI officials or with Barrett’s Bank. It will be my name and my reputation on the line.”
“It sounds reasonable,” he said, “but it still requires a leap of faith.”
“Yes, I know, but I have thought this through. It is entirely doable.”
“Ms. Lee, I am inclined to believe you,” he said quiet-ly. “Maybe because it’s so late and my mind is not fully functional.”
Maybe because you stand to make at least another $100,000, she thought. Maybe because all this stuff about making sure I had a workable plan was just so you could strengthen your bargaining position. “Thank you, Captain, I really appreciate your support,” she said.
He ignored her posturing. “So now we need to talk about the details.”
“How do you propose getting us there?” she asked.
She had expected him to sidestep her question but he didn’t. “By private plane. Actually a government plane. Nothing fancy — a turboprop — but the airstrip on Beef Island can’t handle much more than that. It’s about two and a half hours from here. The best time to land would be evening. It’ll be quieter, and the fewer people who see you the better. Customs and Immigration will have to be notified of your arrival. We’ll look after that, of course. You’ll be waved through,” he said.
“Sounds good.”
“This doesn’t mean that anything goes, though. You do understand that?”
“Explain.”
“Well, we can’t have Seto taped up like a mummy. No handcuffs either. Our friends there expect us to be discreet… Can you keep Seto under control without those inhibitors? We can’t have him causing a ruckus.”
“Seto will be sleeping by the time we land,” she said. “A friend of mine will meet us at the airport. His name is Derek Liang. I need you to tell the BVI officials who he is and arrange permission for him to meet me at the plane when we land.”
The Captain laughed, a laugh that turned into a cough. “I really must give up these cigars,” he said.
“Bless you.”
“No, bless you, Ava Lee. You are indeed a clever girl. Does the presence of this Mr. Liang mean you won’t need our physical assistance on that end?”
“Not after I get Seto on the plane.”
“Can I ask just how you intend to get him to sleep?”
“I had coffee with Patrick at the doughnut shop a few days ago. Check the tape,” she said.
“I have,” he said.
“So you know.”
“I know.”
“Then why ask?”
“I wasn’t sure I believed it.”
“You can.”
“Evidently. Well, now that we have landed you safely and you have taken a very passive Seto past Immigration without any fuss or bother, that leaves us with the small matter of money. You can understand that the plane is expensive. And our friends in the Virgin Islands have a grossly superior standard of living. They won’t be satisfied with just a few dollars for turning a blind eye to what is essentially a kidnapping.”
She had thought of taking a different approach, of giving him a choice between a set fee and a percentage of what she would recover. If she was unsuccessful collecting the money, then giving a percentage would lower the hit she and Uncle would have to take. But that would make it necessary for her to tell him how much money was involved. And if she did, she would tell him the truth; she didn’t discount the idea that his BVI contacts were good enough to enable him to find out. And of course, if she was successful he would make even more than he could with a set fee. It would be found money, of course, but it was still coming out of their pockets. It all boiled down to how confident she felt about her chances at Barrett’s.
When she was leafing through Seto’s records, she had noted that Jeremy Bates seemed to be a recent arrival at the bank. His name didn’t crop up until the past year. Before that Seto had dealt with a Mark Jones. This meant that Bates hadn’t been involved in establishing the withdrawal procedures. He would know about them, for certain, but maybe he would find them as cumbersome and old-fashioned as she did. Maybe he’d take a more flexible attitude if she could establish the right framework. It felt right, she decided. It would work.
“Name your fee,” she said.
“We’ll need $200,000,” he said.
“Captain, you’re killing me,” she said.
“Ms. Lee, this time we are not negotiating with you. That’s the sum. Pay it or enjoy your vacation in Guyana with Mr. Seto, because I assure you he is not leaving this country under any other circumstances.”
She knew he meant it and she knew she was going to wire the money, but it wasn’t in her nature to capitulate so readily. She sighed. “I’ll have to talk to my people. I can’t agree to this without their permission. Can you give me ten minutes?”
“Take twenty if you need it.”
She switched to her own phone, but not before checking the previous calls made on Patrick’s. She wrote down in her notebook the number she presumed was the Captain’s direct line.
Uncle took her call on the first ring.
“We’ll need to send $200,000.”
“Same banking information?”
“Exactly.”
“It will get done in the next half-hour,” he said without hesitation.
“Have the wire confirmation scanned and emailed to me, please.”
“It will be done at the same time.”
She knew how hard this was for him. “Uncle, this will work,” she said.
“How much extra money do you think there will be?” he asked, simultaneously confirming his trust in her and letting her know that his decision to wire the $200,000 wasn’t based on a potential windfall profit.
“About two million.”
“Do you have any sense of the timing?”
“It will take Derek at least twenty-four hours to get to the Virgin Islands. I can’t do this without him, so there’s no point in my leaving here until the day after tomorrow. They want us to arrive in the evening, so the soonest I can get to the bank is probably three days from now.”
“Keep in touch.”
“Every day,” she said.
Ava checked her emails for the next half-hour, catching up with her family and friends. The weather was brutal in Toronto, and her mother was making her usual winter threat to move back to Hong Kong. As she was reading her sister’s plea for Mummy to stay put — why Marian took these threats seriously amazed Ava, as her mother had no friends there anymore, and besides, if she did show up their father would cut her off financially — an email arrived from Derek. He had booked a flight through San Juan that would get him into Tortola at six o’clock the next day, sooner than she had thought possible. He had struck out with hotel suites but had found a three-bedroom serviced apartment with a one-week minimum stay and had booked it.
An apartment is perfect, she thought. Maybe Derek was going to be her good luck charm. She figured he must have gone straight home from karaoke after her call. She seemed to be the only thing in his life he took seriously. Ava phoned him at home. He didn’t seem surprised to hear from her so quickly.
“The place sounds great,” she said.
“It wasn’t easy to find.”
“Derek, I may try to fly into the BVI tomorrow night as well. I would try to structure it so I’d land around ten. That would give you time to get organized.”
“What do you want done?”
“I’m coming in on a private plane. I’d like you to meet me on the tarmac with a wheelchair.”
“I’m sure I can find a wheelchair somewhere,” he said.
“They’ll have them at the airport.”
“But how do I get to the plane? You know what security is like these days.”
“That’s being arranged. BVI Customs and Immigration will have your name. They’ll let you come and meet me. I don’t have all the details yet, but I’ll get them and a contact name for you in case you have any problems.”
“Sounds simple.”
“Doesn’t it always — just before things get screwed up.”
“Ava, can we trust these people?”
“I’m paying them enough.”
“Still…”
“They also think I’m triad.”
“You mean you’re not?” he said jokingly. Even if she wasn’t, the idea that she might be connected to the triads was enough to give most people second thoughts about screwing around with her. More than once she and Derek had been faced with the threat of violence, only to have Ava short-circuit it with, “We’re the nice ones. You really don’t want to meet our friends.”
“Not that I know of,” she said. Then she asked him about his departure the next day and said she’d call him before he left to confirm her schedule and to give him the other information he needed.
Now it was time to call the Captain. She punched his number into her phone. No harm in letting him know she could contact him directly.
He didn’t answer until the fifth ring, and Ava wondered if he was playing with her. “Ms. Lee, I see you have my number. I’m assuming you also have some heart-warming information for me.”
“The money is in the process of being wired. I’ll have a copy of the transfer in a few hours. With any luck the money will be in your account tomorrow,” she said.
“Do you mean today? It’s already well past midnight.”
“Today. And I’d like to get out of here today as well. Do you think that’s possible?”
“I hadn’t counted on your being quite so efficient,” he said. “The plane is scheduled to be used by our minister of agriculture today for a quick trip to Port of Spain.”
“He can fly commercial. I can’t.”
“You know, I don’t have a reputation for being accommodating,” he said, “but for some reason I can’t seem to say no to you.”
Three hundred thousand dollars so far is a pretty good reason, she thought. “My people in Hong Kong appreciate your help. If you ever need their assistance, all you have to do is ask,” she said.
“I can’t think why I would ever need them,” he said.
“You never know.”
The line went quiet. In the background she heard the clink of ice hitting glass. He had been a bit friendlier than usual, jovial almost, and she figured it was the booze. “Captain, can I get out of here tonight?” she said.
“Why not?”
“Thank you.”
“Let’s talk in the morning, shall we? Call my office around ten and we’ll work out the details.”
She thought of Derek. “I would like to know the name of our contact in the British Virgin Islands, right now, if possible. My associate will be in transit by ten and we’ll be out of touch until I land. I don’t want to arrive at the airport and find myself alone with Seto.”
“There are two, actually. A chap called Morris Thomas will be at the airport. He is the senior Customs and Immigration officer. We will notify Morris of your schedule the moment it’s absolutely firm, and he will make himself available for you and your Mr. Liang. There shouldn’t be any difficulties, but if there are, phone Jack Robbins.”
She wrote down the number.
“And in case you’re wondering, Jack’s my younger brother. So you’re going to be in very good hands,” he said.
After hanging up, Ava sat quietly in Seto’s office staring at his screensaver: a photo of a busy seaport. Derek’s question about trusting these people resonated in her mind. The problem was that she was in too deep to extract herself without making things worse. There came a time in every case when she had to have faith in her own judgement. This was the time. It was all too easy to imagine everything that could go wrong — she simply wouldn’t let herself go there. Instead she said aloud, “The $300,000 is secure. The plane will be there. Seto and I will get to the British Virgin Islands. There will be no issues at the airport. Jeremy Bates will be cooperative. Andrew Tam will be a happy man.”
Then she called Derek and told him about Morris Thomas and Jack Robbins.
“See you tomorrow night,” he said brightly.
“Tomorrow,” she said.