washed his hands of them both as he pocketed the funds. The only problem was that he was now becoming a partner, and the cost of business had just skyrocketed. It was a good thing Seto had that extra two million in his account.
“I’ll have something by tomorrow,” she said, having no idea how.
“Good. Tell Patrick when you’re ready to chat and I’ll make myself available.” He waved his arm at the shop. “We meet here more often than not — we own it. There’s a camera overhead and microphones dotted about here and there. I like to bring my political friends here. They think I’m slumming,” he said smoothly.
Ava wasn’t sure she believed him. If it was true and he thought sharing that confidence with her would earn trust, he was going to be disappointed. In her eyes the Captain was now more dangerous.
“I’d like to go back to the hotel; I don’t need the distractions at the house. Can you leave your men there overnight?”
“Consider it done.”
(28)
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
