“I did.”
“That’s amazing.”
She smiled. “Well, that’s the easy part.”
“Do you want a drink?”
“White wine would be fine.”
“I’ll have to go to the bar to get it. There’s no table service here.”
He returned with her wine and another beer for himself. “They have a restaurant on the second floor. It’s Georgetown’s version of fine dining. I’ve eaten there three or four times and not gotten ill. The only thing is, they normally have only a quarter of the menu available, so I ask them what they do have rather than wait to be told they don’t have something.”
“Sounds good. I just want to tell the front desk where I am before we go upstairs, in case the Captain’s man comes asking for me.”
The restaurant was empty except for them. A sign by the entrance said PLEASE WAIT TO BE SEATED. Ava wondered who had thought that was necessary.
They were taken to a seat by a window. The lights from the part of Georgetown that had electricity sparkled in the night. “It looks almost attractive,” he said.
She told him about meeting the Englishman Tom Benson that morning, and about his daily trek to the power company. Lafontaine laughed and told her that Benson’s attitude was the only way to deal with Guyana and still stay sane. If you expected things to change, you were a fool.
She talked about Asia and about how North Americans in particular often went with preconceived notions of how hard life must be there, only to find themselves in Hong Kong or Singapore or Bangkok or Shanghai. The lifestyle in those places was more refined and luxurious than what they would find in just about any city in North America.
The waiter appeared with menus. “Just tell us what you have,” Lafontaine said.
They had a choice of grilled snapper, broiled chicken, baked pork chops, and roast beef. There was only the one fish, and Ava chose it. Lafontaine ordered the chicken.
She asked him about his children in Ottawa. As Lafontaine began to talk about them, he suddenly caught himself. “There’s something I really need to talk to you about,” he said. “I hope you won’t think I’m being rude.”
“What is it about?”
“This morning when you told me that you were gay, you were being serious, yes? Not just keeping me at arm’s length?”
“Marc, I could not have been more serious.”
“I believe you,” he said. “The thing is, homosexuality is illegal in Guyana. In fact, it’s punishable by life imprisonment. Now, I haven’t heard about anyone being prosecuted, but the law is on the books. And they really frown on any display of affection between two people of the same sex.” He stopped, clearly uncomfortable. “I’m not trying to pry into your life or anything, but you need to be careful here, circumspect.”
“I wasn’t planning on going to gay bars,” she said.
“That’s good, because there aren’t any.”
“Thanks. Enough said.”
Ava directed the conversation back towards his children. They were all teenagers and drifting away from him. She listened to him lament the fact and realized he knew absolutely nothing about girls. She was about to give him some suggestions when her Guyanese phone rang.
“Hi, Jeff,” she said.
“He left the house about an hour and a half ago and went out to eat — guess where — and then went to drink and party — guess where.”
“Same as last night.”
“He’s a creature of habit.”
“Good. Pack it in. There’s no reason to hang around there anymore tonight.”
“What are you up to?” he asked, his voice cracking ever so slightly.
“I’m having dinner with a friend from the Canadian High Commission, and then I have a meeting with a Guyanese government official. I’ll see you tomorrow and settle our accounts.”
Out of the corner of her eye she saw the restaurant host hovering. The moment she ended her phone call he walked to the table. “There are some people downstairs waiting to see you,” he said.
“Call downstairs and tell them I’ll be right there,” she said. “And bring me the bill.”
“I’m paying,” Lafontaine said.
“No, you’re not,” she said. “You’ve done quite enough for me today as it is.”
While they waited for the bill to arrive, Lafontaine said, “People? I thought you were meeting one person.”
“Me too.”
“Would you mind if I walk down with you?”
“Not at all.”
There were three people sitting in the lounge: two large black men who looked as if they had come directly from the gym to an Esquire photo shoot, and a very pale, rotund man with a sly smile and a glint in his deep blue eyes.
“Christ, that’s Robbins,” Lafontaine said.
The three stood as Ava and Lafontaine approached, and she was shocked by how physically imposing Robbins was. His men were both over six feet tall, but Robbins was a shaved head taller. His belly mounded under a black satin shirt draped over black jeans; his face was round and jowly. His heaviness made him look, if anything, more dangerous. And then there was his skin — it was the colour of paper. In a country where everyone was some variation of brown, he was a ghost.
His eyes found her and didn’t let go.
“Ah, Sergeant Lafontaine,” Robbins said, his eyes still on Ava. “So it was you who gave Ms. Lee my phone number.”
“Captain.”
“What shall I say to you for unleashing this young woman on us?”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“And why would you? Look at her — a Havergal graduate, tiny, well-mannered, a Chinese doll. And then… Ah, I’m not being polite. This is Patrick and this is Robert,” he said, motioning to his men. “I thought you should meet them,” he said to Ava, “and truthfully, they wanted to meet you.
“My plan, Mr. Lafontaine, was to send Patrick to meet with Ms. Lee, but after what happened today I couldn’t resist the opportunity to meet her myself. Robert, why don’t you explain?”
“I was called by the police today after they picked up two men at the seawall,” Robert said.
Robbins interrupted. “It seems that a young Chinese woman was jogging there when she encountered these men. They are known to us, and not as particularly good citizens. Some minor theft charges, some more serious rape allegations, though never proven… Still, they told an interesting story. They claim they were sitting on the seawall, minding their own business, when this young woman ran by. They do admit they ogled her, and maybe made some inappropriate comments, but certainly did nothing to warrant the attack that ensued. One of them had his nose destroyed. The other had his windpipe crushed and is lucky to be alive. These are not small men, Mr. Lafontaine. I daresay even you or I would have found it a challenge to take on the two of them at the same time. You do jog, don’t you, Ms. Lee?”
“Once in a while.”
“The victims, or villains — call them what you will — said the woman in question came from this hotel. And as far as we can ascertain, Ms. Lee is the only Chinese woman in residence.” Robbins stared at her, his expression not the least unkind. “So tell me, how do you explain the damage you inflicted on these men?”
“I restrained myself,” Ava said.
Robbins exploded with laughter. Patrick and Robert followed suit. Marc Lafontaine looked as if he had wandered into the wrong wedding reception.
“Marc, I have business to discuss with Captain Robbins, and I don’t think you should be here,” she said
