“I guessed.”
“I need to think about it for a while.”
“I have good ears if you want to talk it through.”
She was about to dismiss the idea when she realized that she was going to need help no matter what she decided to do, so she might as well bring him on side sooner rather than later. “Let’s go into the living room,” she said.
They sat side by side on the leather couch, which smelled of cigarette smoke, and she told Patrick about her problem. The only thing she didn’t — and wouldn’t — tell him was the total amount of money involved.
“It sounds to me like you’re going to have to take him to the BVI if you want to get that money back,” he said. “Or spend the next few months transferring $25,000 a day, though I can’t even begin to imagine the things that could go wrong with that idea.”
“It has to be done quickly or chances are it won’t get done. Is there any other choice?”
“What do you think?”
“I think I’m screwed,” she said.
“How’s that?”
“As I said, the quicker you move, the better your chances are to succeed. In my business you strike when guys like Seto are vulnerable, scared, and within your control. The longer the process takes, the more they begin to think they can find a way out. But how do I get him to the BVI without getting their Customs or police involved? All he has to do is open his mouth and scream bloody murder. And believe me, it will occur to him — if I can get him there. He’ll talk himself into thinking he can get away with this. He’ll figure if he can lose me, he has enough money to hide somewhere we can’t find him. We always do find them in the end, but the problem is that the money is often gone by then.”
“And if you can get him there, how do you deal with the bank?”
“There’s no point worrying about the bank unless I can get him to the BVI.”
“You need to talk to the Captain,” Patrick said.
“What can the Captain do?”
“I’m going to call him,” he said. “Don’t go anywhere.”
She sat in the kitchen while she waited for Patrick to return. Seto kept rotating his head as if he had a stiff neck. She felt like snapping the fucking thing.
The front door opened and Patrick stepped back inside. “I have to go meet with the Captain. I’ll be back in a while.”
(27)
Patrick didn’t come back until after ten o’clock. Ava hated the thought of the two men discussing her business without her. The longer he was gone the more irritated she became, and by the time the door opened again she was really angry. Patrick walked in with the two men from outside Eckie’s, the cops who had taken Ng.
“You and I are going to see the Captain,” he said. “The boys will look after things here until we get back.” He saw the look on her face and said, “I tried to call. Your cellphone was off.”
She realized he was right about the phone, and bit back an irritable remark. Then she picked up the Barrett’s file and forced it into her kitbag. She wasn’t leaving anything behind for them to look through.
“What did he say?” she asked as she climbed into the Toyota truck.
“Who?”
“For God’s sake, Patrick, you know who.”
“He said he wanted to see you, that’s all. I explained the difficulty and he said he wanted to see you. Nothing more than that.”
“So this could be for nothing?”
“I can’t say for sure, but normally the Captain doesn’t waste his time on nothing.”
She felt a twinge of hope. “Where are we going?”
“The doughnut shop. It’s close by.”
The entire area was in utter darkness except for the odd flicker of a candle or flare from a flashlight. The shop, though, was lit up like Times Square. The massive figure of the Captain filled its window, a plate of doughnuts in front of him.
“I’ll wait here,” Patrick said as he parked the truck.
The Captain gave her a little wave when she walked in. “I ordered you coffee,” he said, pointing to a cup. “Patrick said you liked it.”
In the bright light he looked even whiter than she remembered. And in the small confines of the shop he looked even larger, a mountain of a man, and she was again taken aback by how startlingly blue his eyes were. If she had been meeting him for the first time, the impression would have been overwhelming.
She steadied herself and sat down. “We have to stop meeting like this,” she said.
His eyes twinkled, amused maybe, curious certainly, involved most definitely. “We have a problem, I hear.”
She noticed his use of we. This was, at the very least, going to cost her money. “We do,” she said.
“Unfortunate.”
“For no one more than me.”
“Seto was either rather clever or rather stupid. Patrick wasn’t sure which because he said you spoke to him in Chinese.”
“It was necessary for him to understand that I had been sent from Hong Kong.”
“And all that entails, implied or otherwise.”
“Implied.”
“But still effective.”
“Normally.”
“So you got what you wanted except for a minor twist?”
“If you want to call it minor.”
The Captain bit into a chocolate-coated doughnut. “I eat these every day and then rush home to take my cholesterol medication,” he said.
“Do you have a way to resolve this minor twist?”
“Yes, I probably do. But as I said to Patrick, what’s the point of exerting all that effort — and spending all that money — getting you and Seto there if the bank won’t cooperate?”
“I’ll handle the bank.”
“You sound so confident.”
“Just get me and Seto there and I’ll find a way to handle the bank.”
“You will find a way or you have a way? The difference is not inconsequential. I mean, you’re asking to us spend a considerable amount of capital — both financial and personal — assisting you to get to the British Virgin Islands. What if you fail? How do we get compensated?”
“How much do you want?” she asked.
“No, no, no,” he said, looking offended by the question. “You’re going about this in entirely the wrong way. This is not just about money. This is about making use of friends and contacts whom I don’t want to embarrass if things go awry. Friends and contacts whom I don’t want subjected to questions from their lords and masters. Friends and contacts I still want to have five years from now.”
“So this isn’t about money?”
“I said this is not just about money.”
“What do you want from me?” she asked.
“A plan. I want you to give me a plan for extracting the money from the bank. If I think the plan can work, then we can move on to the other details.”
It was, she thought, not an unreasonable request. It was even, she thought, a perfectly sensible request. He could have demanded more money, found a way to shuffle her and Seto to the BVI or somewhere close by, and then
