towelled herself off. It was too early to get dressed for the trip so she put on her Adidas track pants and a Giordano T-shirt. She’d save her business suit for the journey.
She sat on the bed and dialled Marc Lafontaine’s number.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“I’m getting ready to leave. I’m flying out tonight.”
“Did you get what you wanted?”
“Some of it. I’ll know better tomorrow.”
“The odds?”
“Fifty-fifty. But the Chinese always say fifty-fifty.”
“What do you mean?”
“When my mother buys a lottery ticket, I ask her what she thinks her chances are. She always says the same thing: fifty-fifty — I either win or I lose.”
“True enough.”
“Only if you have no faith in mathematics.”
“So what are your true odds?”
“Ninety to ten, in my favour.”
“Good. I’m glad I was able to help.”
“Without you I wouldn’t have gotten close. Thank you.”
“How did you find the Captain?”
She became cautious. “This is off the record?”
“It isn’t going anywhere.”
“He’s a very complicated man, but at the root he is probably completely corrupt and amoral. His only concern is for himself, and that, I think, is the beginning and end of his story.”
“Could you be less subtle?”
“If he ever invites you for coffee and doughnuts at Donald’s, don’t go. And if you do go, keep your mouth shut. They record every meeting there.”
“I’ve been to Donald’s. So has the High Commissioner. He thought it was quaint.”
“They record every meeting,” she repeated.
“Jesus,” he said.
“And there you are,” she said. “The last thing he is, is quaint. He’s a dangerous man.”
“So how did you manage — ”
“I paid him a lot of money for something he didn’t care about in the first place.”
“Jesus.”
“He does have some weaknesses. You could exploit them if you decide you ever need to.”
“Meaning?”
“He banks with Royal York and has an offshore account in the Cayman Islands. Lean on the bank and they’ll lean on him. If you need an account number, I have it.”
“Why are you telling me this?”
“I appreciate the assistance I received from the head of security at the Canadian High Commission in Georgetown. In fact, when I get home, I’m going to write to Foreign Affairs in Ottawa to tell them just how good he was.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
“You didn’t have to help me the way you did.”
“It’s my job.”
“I haven’t met many Canadian diplomats who think that way. Most of them treat you as a nuisance, someone who’s trying to disrupt their day.”
It was nearly lunchtime and she thought about inviting him to join her. Then she thought better of it; using him just to kill time wasn’t polite, and Ava had been raised to be polite. “I have to go now, Marc. I have some work to do in the business centre. Great meeting you.”
Ava hung up, grabbed her notebook, and went downstairs. As usual, the business centre was empty. And also as usual, it took her four attempts to get online.
She accessed Seto’s email account. Jeremy Bates had replied to the message she had sent the night before. He said he would be quite happy to meet with Mr. Seto and Ms. Lee in the bank’s offices. Bless you, she thought, and replied that they would be there tomorrow morning around ten.
Next Ava checked her own email account. She had twenty-five new messages, most of which were unimportant. Mimi was wondering when she would be back in the city. There was one from Marian complaining about their mother; she read half before deleting it. She started writing an email to Mimi, Marian, and her mother saying she would see them in a few days, and then she stopped and hit the delete button. She wasn’t going to jinx herself again by anticipating. One thing at a time.
She checked Seto’s inbox again. Bates had responded to her message, confirming the 10 a.m. meeting. He doesn’t get many people dropping in, she thought.
Ava knew little about the British Virgin Islands, only that the territory was a haven for offshore accounts. She did a quick Web search. A group of small islands close to Puerto Rico, the largest of which was Tortola, and it was only twenty kilometres long and five kilometres wide. The capital, Road Town, had a total population of twenty thousand, and it seemed that at any given time there were as many tourists as residents there. It didn’t sound to her like a place where someone could stay inconspicuous for very long. She could meld into most backgrounds, almost disappearing into herself, but Derek was another matter. He walked, talked, and looked like someone who just had to be someone.
It was almost noon and she realized she hadn’t heard from Patrick. She called his cellphone.
“Hey, I’m at the house,” he said.
“Is everything okay?”
“Fine. We changed shifts this morning and I wanted to make sure the new guys knew the rules.”
“Seto?”
“Quiet.”
“The woman?”
“She’s standing next to me, making us lunch.”
“Let me talk to her.”
“Hello.”
“Are you all right, Anna?”
“Better, anyway.”
“Things will be back to normal soon. Now, did you pack Seto’s suitcase?”
“I did.”
“Good. Let me talk to Patrick again.”
“Hi,” said Patrick.
“When are you leaving there?” she asked.
“After lunch. I have things to do at the office.”
“You’re getting me at six?”
“Those are the orders.”
“I’ll be at the front entrance.”
“See you then.”
She had one last thing to do online. She went to the American Airlines website. Derek’s flight had left Toronto on schedule. So far, so good.
(31)
At a quarter to six Ava was in the lobby with her bags. Patrick had arrived early; he was sitting in the lounge with a bottle of Carib and a bowl of peanuts.
