London before, and although she didn’t know the hotel, she did know the area. On the north side of High Street was Kensington Gardens, and contiguous to the gardens on the east was Hyde Park. The south side was filled with trendy restaurants and upscale boutiques that extended to Knightsbridge and the famed department store Harrods. Ava’s hotel, the Fletcher, was on the south side of the street, directly across from Kensington Gardens. She could see the entrance from the station, its sign lit up red and wrapped around a curved glass overhang.
She checked in and found her way to the eighth floor. Her room was furnished with a king-size bed with a massive wooden headboard built into the wall. There was plenty of space for the fully equipped workstation, settee, easy chair, coffee table, armoire, and flat-screen television attached to the wall facing the bed.
Ava unpacked. She felt like a shower, for more reasons than one, but she had been out of touch for close to fifteen hours and felt the need to reconnect. It was one o’clock in the morning in Hong Kong, normally too late to call Uncle, but she knew he was probably waiting up to hear from her.
“I met the girl,” Ava said after the familiar “ Wei.”
“How did it go?”
“I don’t know yet.”
“So she did not sign,” Uncle said.
“No, she told me she needed some time to think about it. Actually, what I think she needs is talk it over with someone.”
“Who?”
“Her father.”
“You have not mentioned him before.”
“It’s his money that financed The River.”
“Then why is it not his signature that we need?”
“It’s complicated, Uncle. He’s a politician, and his business assets, of which this is one, are in a blind trust. He’s supposed to have nothing to do with how they’re managed.”
“Except?”
“She is his only child and quite devoted to him, and from what I’ve seen she’s also afraid of him. She keeps him updated on everything.”
“And does nothing without his approval?”
“Yes.”
“And do you think he will approve?”
“I don’t know that either.”
“You thought you had some compelling arguments to make.”
“Most of those had no effect.”
“So, what makes you think there is any chance she will sign?”
“I finally found an argument that did impress her.”
Uncle paused. “When do you talk to her next?”
“Tomorrow,” Ava said, relieved that he hadn’t asked about her leverage.
“That is reasonable.”
“I thought so.”
“What is your feeling?”
“I don’t know with any certainty. I think she might sign. It’s too much in her best interest for her to do anything else. But I’ve been wrong before.”
“If she does not sign, I do not know how much longer I want us to pursue this. Your last telephone conversation with Ordonez upset him.”
“He caught me by surprise by calling from an unidentified number.”
“He thinks you were being deliberately rude to him, and certainly not as cooperative as he expects. Of course, he thinks we should all be kowtowing to him. Now he feels he has earned the right to berate me. The sooner we are finished with him, the better.”
“I wasn’t rude,” Ava said, upset that Ordonez had been disrespectful to Uncle.
“I did not say that you were.”
“I’m sorry, Uncle, I wasn’t implying that you did.”
“The man is ignorant and arrogant, and that is a terrible combination.”
“I should have things settled one way or another by tomorrow.”
Uncle went quiet, and she wondered if Tommy Ordonez had said more. “There have also been some developments in Hong Kong today.”
“Jackie Leung?”
“Yes. Sonny met with Sammy Wing and they have agreed to pursue him together.”
“But they haven’t found him yet?”
“Not yet, but soon. I talked to Guangzhou tonight. They still will not cancel the contract. The two men who have been tracking you will not back off until we eliminate Leung.”
“Tracking?”
“They have been using your credit card transactions to locate you. They went to Las Vegas but they thought you were at Wynn’s.”
“Where are they now?”
“Guangzhou did not know.”
“Do I need to worry?”
“No, no. We will get Leung.”
Ava had booked her flight to London using one of her credit cards. She tried to remember if she had seen any suspicious-looking Chinese men at the airport, on the plane, at Gatwick, on the train, in the tube. It was all a blank. “Then I won’t worry,” she said.
“That is best. Just focus on the woman. Call me as soon as you hear from her.”
Ava closed her phone. She still felt a lingering disquiet from the way her meeting with Simmons had ended. Now it was joined by an intense dislike of Tommy Ordonez and the looming threat of Jackie Leung. This job, she thought, is hard enough without all the side complications. However quickly Uncle wanted to end it, it wouldn’t be quick enough for her.
(37)
Ava got out of the shower and gently towelled off her damp body, which was still healing from the altercation in Las Vegas. She put on a clean black Giordano T-shirt and her Adidas track pants, then thought about dinner. The hotel was surrounded by restaurants, none of which she knew anything about. She called the concierge and asked for the best Italian restaurant in the area. He recommended Cibo, which was only a short walk from the hotel, in Russell Gardens.
When she got to the lobby, she saw that it was raining again. The concierge loaned her an umbrella and gave her directions to the restaurant. She crossed Kensington High Street, turned left, and walked north on Russell Road. About four hundred metres along she turned into the mews that was Russell Gardens.
Cibo was small and unassuming, its name simply written on a cloth awning that overhung a double window. When she stepped inside, she was quickly charmed by its intimate ambiance. The overwhelming aroma of garlic and olive oil washed over her and spiked her hunger.
She was led to a table near the back of the restaurant. The walls were covered with artwork, all of it original, the host said, and none of it traditional or stereotypically Italian. It looked to Ava as if the pieces had been chosen for their depth and wild colour. They were jarring and, it turned out, a suitable prelude to the meal.
She ordered fricco, wild mushrooms sauteed with potato and melted Asiago cheese, and a small plate of swordfish, tuna, and octopus marinated in thyme and olive oil. The waiter recommended Petrussa Pinot Bianco to accompany her food. She finished the first glass with the mushrooms and ordered a second with the fish. The food and wine were so good she thought a small plate of linguine aglio olio with one last glass of wine would be the perfect way to end her meal. But when she had finished the pasta, she noticed the man at the table next to hers
