“Sort of.”
“Tell me, would you like to have dinner with me while you’re here? You could keep me up to date on your progress.”
She looked over at the pictures of his children.
“I’m divorced,” he said.
Two propositions in one day, Ava thought, and unless she was wrong, Jeff was a potential third. For reasons she didn’t understand, gweilos found her attractive. In Hong Kong she could stand on a street corner holding a sign reading PLEASE TAKE ME OUT TO DINNER and not get this much action.
“I wouldn’t mind having dinner with you, but in keeping with our honesty policy I have to tell you I’m gay.”
“I did say dinner; I wasn’t assuming anything else,” he said, but the flush that crept up his cheeks told her differently.
“How about I keep in touch with you? Can I get your cell number?”
He handed her a business card. His title read ASSISTANT TRADE COMMISSIONER.
“I’ll let you know how it goes with Captain Robbins.”
(21)
Jeff was standing at the entrance of the PHoenix wearing slacks and a Polo golf shirt. He looked happy to see her, and she knew she was going to end up saying no to him as well.
“I have your SIM card,” he said.
“How much do I owe you?” she said as she took it.
“Twenty.”
She gave him thirty.
“Will you need me today? I have to make a run to the airport around one. After that I’m free.”
“I’m not sure. Call me when you get back.”
The room was way hotter than when she had left. The maid had turned off the air conditioning. She turned it back on and for good measure jacked it way down.
She undressed; her clothes were damp even though it was no more than a three-minute walk from the High Commission. She put on her running gear. It was really too hot to run but she needed to think, and running freed her mind. Before leaving the hotel she checked her emails at the business centre. Nothing from Seto. That was no surprise.
From the literature in the room she knew there was a walkway along the seawall. The path was grass, and running on grass was easy on her legs. Add the sea breeze to that and she thought maybe it wouldn’t be too tough, despite the heat.
The Georgetown seawall had been built during the nineteenth century by the Dutch, the original colonists, before the British ousted them. Georgetown, and in fact most of the northern coastline, was below sea level. The Dutch were experts at keeping the sea at bay, and they had constructed an impressive bulwark of stone about two metres wide and a metre high.
Ava began jogging towards the Atlantic. It was close to low tide, and between the wall and the ocean was a large expanse of sandy beach. On her right was Seawall Road, which was lined with embassies and consulates. There was hardly any traffic on the road and virtually no one on the path. Ava could see maybe two or three kilometres ahead. A woman was on the beach tossing sticks to a dog, and farther down she could see two figures sitting on the seawall.
She had run about a kilometre before the seated figures became distinct. They were two East Indian men, sitting maybe twenty metres apart. As she drew near she noticed she had attracted their attention. She thought about stopping and turning back, then told herself she was being silly. It was the middle of the day, and they were in a wide open area.
When she was five metres from the first man she saw him stiffen, and her senses prickled. She sped up to get past him. Just as she did, the second man jumped off the wall onto the path. She was trapped between them.
One of the men was about five foot ten and had to weigh at least two hundred pounds. He wore ragged blue shorts and a T-shirt that read DRINK COORS. The other, who was a bit taller and not much thinner, was wearing soiled jeans and a singlet that exposed his chest and armpits. Ava noticed he had only one eye. It was fixed on her, and it wasn’t conveying kind intent.
She stopped and turned so that she was facing the wall and had a clear view of the two of them.
“This can be easy or hard — your choice,” the one to her left said, a knife now visible in his right hand.
Ava saw no reason to respond; the outcome would be the same. The other man didn’t seem to be armed, so she decided to take on the one with the knife first.
They inched towards her, trying to maintain equal distance. Ava moved left to bring her closer to the one with the knife. He waved it in the air until he was about half a metre from her. Then he reached down to grab her hair with his left hand, the knife held back, poised to strike.
She retreated backwards about half a step. When he tried to close the distance, she stepped forward. Her right arm rocketed towards him with the force of a piston. The extended knuckle of her index finger crashed into the bridge of his nose. She wasn’t sure which she noticed first, the crack of cartilage or the gush of blood. He sagged to the ground, dropping the knife as both hands moved to cradle his nose. She picked up the weapon and threw it over the wall.
The other man hadn’t moved as she put his friend out of action. Now he edged towards her, his fists balled. He didn’t move very well; his hips seemed to propel his legs. She knew she could avoid his swings but she wasn’t about to give him the chance. When he was within striking range, her right arm shot out again. This time she used the base of her palm to strike at the centre of his forehead. He reeled back and she leapt after him, her left fist driving into his Adam’s apple. He collapsed, his eyes rolled back, and his hands clutched his throat as he gasped for air. She had known people to die from that blow.
The whole incident had taken no more than thirty seconds. She looked around. There was no one in view, no cars on the road. She turned and began to jog back to the hotel, past the woman throwing sticks to her dog.
(22)
“How was your run?” the doorman asked when Ava arrived back at the Phoenix.
“Okay,” she said.
She had bought two bottles of water to take to her room. She didn’t recognize the brand and then saw it had been bottled in Georgetown. She added a water purification pill to each of them. When the pills had done their work, she sat in the rattan chair and looked out at the ocean. She was ready to phone Captain Robbins. She didn’t expect him to take her call, but she did expect him to return it. That was when she would be challenged to capture his interest and get him to meet with her, or at the very least to send someone who had his trust.
She punched in the number and waited. Just when she thought it was going to flip into voicemail, a woman’s rich, cultured voice said, “The office.”
“I would like to speak to Captain Robbins, please,” she said.
There was a long pause, and Ava wondered if Lafontaine had given her the correct number.
“I’m afraid that Captain Robbins is not available.”
“Well, could you have him return my call, please? My name is Ava Lee and I’m affiliated with Havergal College. Do you need me to spell Havergal?”
“No, I know Havergal,” she said. “Is there anything I can help you with, or is there a specific message you would like me to pass to the Captain?”
“No, I need to speak to him directly.”
