for our side. Will Ordonez have a problem with that?”
“I cannot see him objecting.”
“Well, let’s make sure of that. Before I go to the lawyer’s office I’d like something in writing from Manila that authorizes me to sign on behalf of the Ordonez Group, and that binds them to honour whatever I do sign with regard to this debt.”
“What is involved?”
“For starters, Roger Simmons wants me to say that I misinterpreted our conversation last night. That nothing was said that violated the terms of the blind trust. And that I invented the remarks he made about Asian businessmen.”
“And he never said Tommy Ordonez was a piece of shit that cannot be shined?”
“I guess I made that up too.”
“What do you want me to get from Manila?”
“You’d better make it a blanket authorization. Have them fax it to me here at the hotel. And then have someone on standby in Manila in case Simmons’s lawyer wants to call to confirm its authenticity.”
“I will call Chang. He will be pleased.”
“I’ll call you when everything’s wrapped up, Uncle.” Ava hung up the phone, then leaned back on the bed and closed her eyes. She was trying to calm herself by taking deep breaths and visualizing bak mai moves when her phone rang. An incoming call — mcintyre cullen appeared on the screen.
“Ava Lee.”
“This is Loretta Michaels, from McIntyre and Cullen. Is four thirty a suitable time for you to meet with Mr. McIntyre and Ms. Simmons?”
“Yes.”
“Our offices are just off Knightsbridge Road. The eighth floor, 88 Ford Street.”
“Tell them I’ll be there.”
Ava called her travel agent and asked her to book a seat on the eight-o’clock Air Canada flight from Heathrow to Pearson. One way or another, she had a feeling she was going to be on it.
(44)
At four fifteen Ava was downstairs with her luggage. As she was checking out, the concierge handed her a fax from Manila. She reviewed the document on the limo ride to Knightsbridge and then slipped it into her Chanel purse.
She arrived five minutes early and was debating waiting in the car when she saw Lily Simmons approach the front doors of 88 Ford Street. She was wearing a black wool suit and carried a small black leather briefcase. Her hair was tangled and her shoulders slumped. Ava waited a few minutes before following her in.
“Wait for me,” she said to the driver as she was getting out of the car. “I shouldn’t be long.”
The lobby of McIntyre and Cullen was expansive. The white marble floor was complemented by a six-metre- long Persian rug. The dark wood-panelled walls showcased the rich forest green of the leather couches and chairs.
“You must be Ms. Lee,” the receptionist said, not unkindly.
“I am.”
“They’re expecting you,” she said. “Let me take you in.”
The boardroom was massive, its size accentuated by a nine-metre-long table with twenty red leather chairs. Sitting alone at the far end was Lily Simmons. She looked up at Ava. “They should be along in a minute,” she said.
“Is your father coming?” Ava asked, taking a seat halfway between Simmons and the door.
“No. Why would he?”
Ava could see black shadows under her eyes, and her lips were chapped, or bitten. Her hands were on the table, the thumb of the right hand rubbing the palm of the left. “I’m sorry if this is uncomfortable for you,” Ava said.
Simmons shrugged. “I just want to get this over with.”
“Me too.”
There was an awkward silence. Ava took a copy of the transfer request from her Chanel bag, and then, for good measure, a copy of Douglas and Ashton’s confession and the paperwork from Jack Maynard and Felix Hunter. They’re going to get their money back too, she thought as they came to mind for the first time since she had last talked to Maynard. How long ago had that been? Three days? A week? It felt like a month. It felt like another world away.
Simmons was leafing through her own papers. A convenient distraction, Ava thought. Suddenly the woman raised her head and said, “There is something I’d like to say to you before the others arrive.”
Ava twisted in her chair so she could face Simmons. “Go ahead.”
“I listened to the message you left on my phone this morning.”
“Yes.”
“I have to say I found it completely perverted and twisted.”
“I’m sorry if you think that.”
“No, you’re not. You’re not sorry about anything. First you try to drive a wedge between me and my fiance, and then you attempt to discredit my father and damage our relationship by suggesting he would do something so venal.”
“Do you seriously think I was making it up?”
“You’ve proven yourself capable of doing absolutely anything to get your way.”
“Not to that extent.”
“I don’t believe a word you say.”
“You shouldn’t be so naive about the men in your life.”
Simmons slammed her palm on the table. “You thought I’d sign that damn transfer if you could convince me that my father didn’t care whether or not you released those tapes. Well, here we are, and I’m going to sign it, all right, but only because he wants me to.”
And for what reason? Ava wanted to ask, but bit back the question. Nothing positive could come from telling Lily Simmons something she didn’t want to hear.
The boardroom door opened and a middle-aged man walked in with a young woman. He was tall and slim, and his silver mane contrasted nicely with his classic navy-blue pinstriped suit. The woman wore a soft cream suit that enhanced her dark skin and fashionably cut hair. “My name is McIntyre, and this is my associate Monique Hutton,” he said.
Ava stood and shook hands with them. Simmons stayed seated. The lawyers sat next to Ava, McIntyre to her immediate left and Hutton next him. He took two files from his assistant and then said, “Lily, could you come closer, please.”
Simmons sat stone-faced, grinding her teeth. Then she picked up the papers in front of her, and seated herself next to Hutton.
McIntyre opened the first file. “I hope this is what you’re expecting to see, Ms. Lee,” he said. “We prepared it under the direction of Ms. Simmons, and she thinks it fairly reflects a discussion you had with Andrew Hawkins earlier today.” He passed her a three-page document. “Do you need some time alone with this?”
“No,” Ava said, scanning the page.
“And Ms. Simmons said that you see no need to employ legal counsel from your side.”
“That’s correct.”
“And that you have the authority to bind the Ordonez Group.”
“I do,” Ava said, opening her purse and taking out the fax she had received from Manila. “Here — this should be satisfactory. If you need to speak to a representative of the law firm in Manila, I have them on standby.”
He scanned the fax. “No, this seems perfectly straightforward and clear. Have them courier the original for my records, if you don’t mind.”
