“What the hell was that noise?” she said, cutting him off.
“You handled it, right?”
“If he had had any suspicions at all — ”
“But he didn’t, or it sure didn’t sound like he did. Dinner at seven, huh?”
“I had no choice.”
“We’ll drive you and we’ll wait outside. And don’t give me any story about having to go back to his place for a drink.”
“There’s no chance of that,” Ava said. “It’s dinner and out. I just want to get this thing finished and get myself on a plane back home.”
(37)
They left the apartment at quarter to seven. Ava had spent the rest of the afternoon and early evening going back and forth between the balcony, bedroom, and kitchen, her restlessness even getting on her own nerves.
Davey knew the restaurant and drove her to within a hundred metres of it. Ava looked up and down the street, not wanting Bates to see her getting out of the car. When there was no sign of him, she got out and moved away from the door. Robbins rolled down his backseat window. “We’ll be right here,” he said.
She got to the restaurant door at seven on the dot. There was no sign of Bates at the entrance. She stuck her head inside. It was a small place, only about fifteen tables, and unless he was in the washroom he hadn’t shown up yet. A short, round, cheery-looking woman with a menu cradled in one arm glanced at Ava, waved, and then walked towards her. “Ms. Lee?”
“Yes.”
“Mr. Bates called for you. He wants you to phone him at this number.”
Ava’s paranoia kicked in. This can’t be good.
“I’ll have to use your phone. I left mine at the apartment.”
“Certainly,” the woman said, pointing to a phone on the hostess stand.
Bates’s phone rang six times, and Ava was ready to give up when he answered.
“It’s Ava,” she said.
“Sorry, I didn’t recognize the number. I should have known you’d call from the restaurant.”
“Is there some kind of problem?”
“Ava, apologies. Actually there is.”
There was only one obvious question, and she wasn’t going to ask it because she didn’t want to hear the answer.
“A very important customer from New York dropped in unexpectedly with a long list of things he wants done, right away, of course,” he said. “He’s insisted I join him for dinner at his hotel at eight. And I’m not in a position to refuse.”
Ava could feel her tension melting. “That really is too bad.”
“You know, you can join us if you wish. I’m sure he won’t mind, since we’ve concluded most of our business already.”
“I can’t leave Jackson alone that long.”
“I understand,” he said slowly.
She paused. “Jeremy, did my wires get transmitted in the midst of this other activity?”
“Of course. They went out late this afternoon.”
“Wonderful. Thank you.”
“My pleasure.”
“And the copies for our records?”
“They’re right here in front of me. You’re only a couple of minutes from the bank. Would you care to walk over?”
“Sure.”
“There’s a night bell in the lobby. Ring it when you get here. I’ll have to come down and let you in.”
She left the restaurant and retraced her steps to the Crown Victoria. Robbins stood outside, leaning against the car. “What’s going on? You get stood up?”
“He can’t make it — some other business — but the wire has been sent and I’m going over to the bank to get a copy of the confirmation.”
“We’ll drive you.”
“I’ll walk. You know where I’m going. Follow me if you want.”
She took her time, enjoying the fresh evening air, the breeze from the Caribbean drifting inland. In a different time, under different circumstances, I might actually enjoy this place, she thought.
The Crown Victoria passed her on Fyfe Street, drove past the bank, and parked about twenty metres past the double doors to Simon House. Robbins stared at her through the rear window.
Ava walked into the lobby; the corridors to the left and right were closed off, sealed by what looked like fire doors. She pressed the night bell next to the elevator, stood back, and waited. It took Bates a couple of minutes to reach her. She had half expected him to bring the documents with him, but he was empty-handed except for the plastic card that activated the elevator during off-hours. “Let’s go upstairs and we’ll get things sorted,” he said.
Sorted? She wasn’t crazy about his word choice. Neither was she comforted by his body language, which seemed stiffer, more awkward. Something’s happened, she thought. She just couldn’t think what.
Bates led her past the Barrett's reception desk and into his office. The bank was deserted.
They sat in the same chairs they had occupied that morning. It seemed to her like a very long time ago. There was a brown envelope on the table. Bates placed a hand on it.
“Ava, there is something I need to discuss with you,” he said, his eyes averted. “I wouldn’t do this normally, but I think we have struck up a good enough relationship that I feel I can share some information that has come to my attention.”
She saw that he was tense, his lips tightly drawn. She fought back a sense of foreboding, flashing an encouraging smile in his direction. “Please, Jeremy, feel free.”
“I received a phone call from a bank in Dallas late this afternoon, just after we sent your wires. It’s the bank that recently sent us electronically two very large transfers from Jackson Seto. The call was in confidence — a courtesy, one bank colleague to another — and I have to ask you to honour the spirit in which it was made.”
“Of course. You can be assured of my discretion,” Ava said.
“The bank… the banker advised me that they were contacted by an investigator from the U.S. Treasury Department about a week ago with regard to Mr. Seto. The Treasury official said that Mr. Seto was being investigated on suspicion of money laundering.”
“Good God, I can’t imagine — ” she began.
“Ava, how long have you known Jackson Seto?” Bates asked. His eyes were full of concern.
“A few months, no more than that, and only because Dynamic introduced us and wanted us to help with the financial side of this transaction.”
“I think it’s only fair to tell you that I ran some checks on Dynamic and your accounting firm after that phone call.”
“That’s understandable.”
“Both companies, of course, reported well — long-standing, excellent reputations — so I’m not suggesting even for a second that either would be involved in some illegal operation.”
“I should think not,” Ava said.
“Seto is another matter,” Bates said. She noted that the honorific had disappeared. “His account has been a minor concern for some time, and I say minor because until recently there wasn’t that much money going through it. I went through some of the bank’s files. We’ve had calls from lawyers and the like before, asking questions about him and his account. There were claims that he misappropriated funds. There was no proof, of course, and the chap who was here before me let the matter slide. Even if he hadn’t, of course, the bank would hardly be able to just
