then saw her computer back staring at her. She did a quick visual search of the room for a computer link and saw none. Even if one was available it wasn’t worth the risk, at least not yet. On the side and near the bottom of the Tang bag was a zipper. She opened it and reached inside. It was still there: a Hong Kong passport in her name. If the Captain was right about Thomas it wasn’t going to do her much good if she wanted to leave the island by air. Not that she was ready to leave anyway. Do the banking; just get the banking done, she told herself.
She picked up the notebook and pen and opened the door. Robbins hadn’t moved from the couch. Ava went to Seto’s bedroom and poked her head in. He was still tucked in bed, his head visible above the covers, looking almost happy.
She closed Seto’s door and turned. “There’s a balcony just outside the kitchen,” she said to Robbins. “I’m going to take a bottle of wine, my notebook, and my pen, and I’m going to sit out there and get ready for tomorrow.”
Robbins pulled himself semi-erect, his belly hanging over his knees. His face was pinched; he started to say something and then stopped.
Ava took that as “I don’t care” and walked to the fridge. She took out the wine, found a glass in the cupboard above the sink, and slid open the balcony door.
It wasn’t a large space: there was room enough for two canvas chairs and a small plastic table between them. She plopped into a chair and stretched her legs towards the railing. It was a beautiful evening. A light breeze was blowing in from the harbour, carrying a mixture of sea air and flowers. The balcony overlooked the water, and there was enough light from the boats and the surrounding buildings for her to see that the harbour was packed with sea craft of every size. Ava knew nothing nautical, couldn’t tell a catamaran from a yacht or a skiff from a sailboat, and was equally lost in terms of the lengths and values of boats. But she was impressed with Road Harbour anyway, because it seemed to have something of everything bobbing on the water. It was soothing, watching the boats, and as she became calmer the reality of her situation began to settle in, moving past shock towards acceptance and from there to dealing with circumstances by priority. The number one priority was Jeremy Bates and Barrett’s Bank. Without success there, Robbins’s threats were irrelevant and Andrew Tam was toast. She needed to focus on the bank.
Ava poured herself a glass of wine and opened her notebook. For ten minutes she reviewed the strategy she intended to use, again looking for weaknesses and antici-pating questions. It wasn’t perfect and couldn’t be, given Seto’s state, but the basic approach she had outlined did make sense, regardless of Robbins’s intrusion. She needed to get the bank to transfer the money, and that was all in her hands, under her control. What would happened afterwards, where and how the money would change hands… well, that was open for evaluation, and that was what she began to think about.
Since landing at Beef Island she’d been in a state of suspended disbelief, going through the motions, trying to keep the surprise of it all at bay. Robbins had done a good job springing it on her, and she had to acknowledge that she was in a bit of a jam. No Derek. No passport. No phone. Jack Robbins parked on the sofa. But how much danger was she really in? Nothing had changed in terms of Seto and the bank except that Robbins wanted a cut of the money. If that was all he wanted, then it was manageable. And she had to assume that was all he wanted. The only question was how to handle it.
She could, of course, do exactly what she had told Robbins she would do. But there were certain problems attached to that, not least of which was whether she could trust Robbins to be satisfied with $2.2 million. What if, once he knew she had moved the money to Hong Kong, he got even greedier? What if he continued to hold her passport over her head and demanded even more money?
And then there was the ethical issue surrounding Andrew Tam. It was his money. He was entitled to all of it. From a practical viewpoint, she and Uncle had never guaranteed any return, let alone full return, but Ava couldn’t lie to herself about the fact that the money was intact and within reach, and that with a little ingenuity she might be able to get it all. Why give Robbins anything if she could find a way around it?
How cooperative, how gullible would Robbins be once he knew she had successfully engineered the wire transfer to Hong Kong? Assuming he was going to be satisfied with the $2.2 million, was he prepared to instruct Thomas to give back her passport and let her leave the country once he had proof that the wire had been sent to his Cayman account, rather than wait until the money actually reached it? He had been willing enough to do that in Guyana. But that was there, and those were much smaller stakes. How much did he actually trust her?
So there would be a Plan A and a Plan B, she decided, and then caught herself before going too far down that road. Let’s focus on tomorrow, she thought, reopening her notebook. In the back she had taped Seto’s Washington state driver’s licence. She took it out and placed it at the bottom of an empty page; then, starting at the top, she filled the rest of the page with Seto’s signature. By the bottom of the page it was beginning to look authentic.
Ava finished her glass of wine and poured another. Below she saw a knot of ten people on the dock walking towards a boat that looked like a small floating hotel. They looked like couples, old friends, arms entwined or thrown loosely around necks. They weaved as they walked, their voices rising towards her, the happy voices of happy people who had probably just finished a gourmet meal and six bottles of wine. Well, I have my wine, she thought, and a nice evening and a great view. Things could always be worse. If only she hadn’t googled Tommy Ordonez.
(34)
Ava crawled into bed fully dressed, her mind jumping back and forth between Jeremy Bates and Robbins. She began taking long, slow breaths and tried to focus on her bak mei exercises. It was difficult to maintain that kind of concentration; it took her half an hour, maybe longer, to finally fall asleep. When she did, her father came to her in a dream. They were in a hotel, ready to leave for an airport. He said he was going to check out and asked her to collect their bags from their room. Except she couldn’t find the room. She wandered from floor to floor, her frustration and panic increasing. She was ready to run to the lobby to get his help when someone else entered her dream.
Ava didn’t dream that often, and when she did, her father was always in it. The locations, the situations, the other people changed from dream to dream. None of that mattered. It always came down to her and her father and one of countless variations of him leaving and her trying to catch him or imploring him to stay. She never caught him. He never stayed.
Ava sensed a presence, a subtle change in the light triggering her response. She was on her back, arms by her sides, head resting on two pillows. She opened her eyes and saw him standing in the doorway, the light from the living room glowing around him like an aura. She thought she could hear him breathing. Her own breathing had stopped. She lay perfectly still, her eyes unblinking, locked on the doorway. Ava’s arms were outside the covers but her legs weren’t. She calculated the distance between the door and her bed, and knew that she had the time she needed to react if he decided to come into the room, even if he came charging into the room.
She thought about saying something, and then thought, No, let him think I’m still asleep. Let him try to do whatever it is he has chosen to do, and then I’ll do what I choose to do. How badly would she hurt him? There was no limit in her mind. Money or no money, she wouldn’t let him get close enough to even think he had a chance. Then the Captain could decide which he valued more, his brother or a payday.
Minutes passed, or maybe it was just a few seconds — Ava had no real sense of time. Robbins stood immobile in the doorway, his massive backlit head stretched towards the bed. She couldn’t see his eyes and wondered if he could see hers, wondered if he knew she was awake.
Then he moved, turning, one hand reaching for the doorknob. Ava’s legs twitched; her body coiled, her mind cleared. He took a step back. Then she heard a deep breath and was plunged back into darkness as the door closed.
Now she could not sleep. She had no idea what time it was and didn’t care. She forced herself to think of something other than the man in the next room. Jeremy Bates and Barrett’s Bank were her choices. She conjured question after question and threw back answer after answer until the sun slipped between the slats of the blinds that covered her window. The room gradually filled with sunlight and just as gradually dulled her nighttime fears. Ava looked towards the door. That hadn’t been a dream.
She slid out of bed, the tiles cold on her feet, increasing her urge to pee. She took out her toiletry bag,
