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.”
