The Diamond Queen of Singapore

by Ian Hamilton

  “We did. I used a very good private investigator.”

  “Did the investigator uncover any girlfriends or mistresses?”

  “No. You’ve already found something that we missed, haven’t you,” Howell said, his voice rising.

  “Maybe, but I’m not ready to talk about it.”

  “Okay, but am I wrong to think that you’ve decided to go after Muir?”

  “Before I commit to that,” she said, ignoring his question, “I need a clear and binding agreement in place.”

  “What kind of agreement?”

  “I’ll send you a copy of the contract my partner and I had our clients sign. It gave us full authority to go after funds on behalf of our clients. We deducted a thirty percent collection fee for everything we reclaimed before remitting the balance,” Ava said. “We looked after all our expenses whether we were successful or not. All that is identical to the agreement we had with Eddie Ng’s Vietnamese friends. Do you have the authority to sign on behalf of your clients?”

  “Yes, I still do.”

  “Then your firm’s agreement will suffice. I’ll scan and email a copy of the contract to you in the next half hour.”

  “Okay, but tell me, who is this Jasmine Yip you mentioned earlier?”

  “I’m not sure who she is, but her name came up in association with Muir,” Ava said.

  “How?”

  “I don’t want to get into it.”

  “Please. You can’t just throw a name at me and then stonewall.”

  “Okay, I’ll tell you two things,” she conceded. “Beyond that I won’t elaborate, so please don’t ask me any questions.”

  “I promise there will be no questions.”

  “First, I know where the money went when it left the Dutch bank. Second, Muir apparently wasn’t working alone. Jasmine Yip was involved, but in what capacity I don’t know.”

  “How in hell did you manage to learn that so fast?”

  “That’s a question,” Ava said.

  “So it is.” Howell laughed. “I apologize.”

  “I have other things to attend to today, so I’m going to get started on them,” said Ava. “Email me the contract after you’ve signed it.”

  “You can count on that,” Howell said.

  Have I done the right thing? Ava wondered as she ended the call, and then just as quickly answered her own question. Howell was correct that if she was going to try to recover money for June Gregory, she had to go after Malcolm Muir — and now, presumably, Jasmine Yip. And if she was going to do that, she knew from experience that it would take almost the same amount of effort to chase thirty million as for three million.

  Ava checked the time and figured it wasn’t too late to call Brenda Burgess in Hong Kong. Brenda was a partner in the law firm Burgess and Bowlby with her husband, Richard Bowlby, and had helped Three Sisters manage several challenging issues. Ava had faith in her judgement.

  The phone was answered by Richard with a cheery “Hello.”

  “Richard, this is Ava Lee. I apologize for calling you at home.”

  “That’s not necessary. We’re always glad to hear from you — or maybe I should say that it’s always interesting when we hear from you,” he said. “Is it me you want to talk to, or am I right in thinking it’s Brenda?”

  “You’re right, it is Brenda. Although that’s not a reflection of my opinion of your legal skills,” she said.

  “You didn’t have to say that, but it is appreciated,” he said. “And I do understand that you two have developed your own relationship. Here she is.”

  “Hi, Ava. It’s nice to hear from you, though I hope you aren’t calling because you’re in some kind of terrible trouble,” Brenda said seconds later.

  “I’m not in any trouble, but I need a plan if trouble arises.”

  “What kind of trouble?”

  “It might take me a while to explain. How’s your time?”

  “You have all the time you need.”

  “Well, it started when I was in Beijing with Suki Chan to finalize purchase of the logistics company . . .” Ava began. Ten minutes later she had finished discussing the concerns both Fai and Chen had raised about the risks associated with financing Lau Lau’s film Tiananmen Square. “We need to find a way to do it without being exposed. I’m hoping you might have some ideas,” she said.

  “Goodness me, Ava, I hardly know where to start,” Brenda said. “What you’ve described is not exactly your run-of-the-mill legal problem. But before we talk about that, can I back up a bit?”

  “Of course.”

  “Okay. For starters, do you fully understand how sensitive a subject the Tiananmen Square massacre is with the Chinese government?”

  “That’s been explained to me over and over again.”

  “Yet you still want to finance a film about it?”

  “As I said, I made a commitment to Lau Lau. He’s written a beautiful and compelling script, and maybe it’s time the world understood what happened there,” Ava said.

  “You mean it’s time the world saw Lau Lau’s view of what happened there.”

  “From what I’ve read about the massacre, nothing he alludes to distorts the facts. What he does is take a period of political, cultural, and social turmoil in China and distill it down to its most basic human level — a mother searching for her lost son.”

  “But the backdrop is still the Chinese government sending tanks into Tiananmen Square to disperse a protest, and in the process killing many of its own citizens.”

  “That’s the fact of it.”

  “Except it’s a fact the Chinese government totally rejects. Tiananmen is the most sensitive and widely censored topic in China. There is no official record of it. In the government’s eyes, it never happened.”

  “Brenda, rather than debating the wisdom of shining a light on that piece of history, I would like to send you the script,” Ava said. “After you’ve read it we can resume the debate, if you think that’s necessary. For now, what I need you to tell me is whether or not you can help me create a solid wall between the money needed to finance the film and my own involvement.”

  Brenda went quiet. Ava waited patiently, knowing that the woman was as thoughtful as she was intelligent.

  “Using someone else’s money would be ideal. Could you arrange something like that?”

  “Maybe.”

  “Because my strong advice is not to use your own.”

  “I hear you. But I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it, and I won’t do anything without discussing it with you first.” Ava said. “But in the meantime, what kind of structure can we put together?”

  “Would I be correct to say that films are usually financed by a production company?”

  “That’s what I’ve been told.”

  “Okay, then we could set up a production company owned by a numbered, or even several numbered, entities, in a jurisdiction where you and your partners have no presence,” Brenda said. “The U.K. comes to mind. Richard has some very good legal contacts there.”

  “Would there be names attached to the numbered companies?”

  “We could use a lawyer’s name. It could be done by proxy, and that would be protected by lawyer-client privilege,” Brenda said. “In fact, it might be possible to put two or more law firms between the money and its source. I know that may sound a bit excessive, but we would want to create as many roadblocks as possible between you and the film.”

  “Assuming Chen still wants to be the producer, would he be able to access the money he needs without any bother?”

  “We can make that as easy as you want. Do you want to retain some control?”

  “No. Once the money is in the bank, I don’t want anything to do with it. Chen can give me an accounting sometime down the road, but I’m going to trust him to spend the money as it wa
s intended.”

  “How much will he need?”

  “I don’t have a budget yet, but I can’t imagine the film costing much more than seven or eight million.”

  “How soon will he need the money?”

  “It isn’t immediate, but I’d like to start building the groundwork. Could you please incorporate a company the way you suggested? I like the idea of the U.K. And when that’s done, could you open a bank account for it?”

  “I’ll do both, and Richard can arrange for one of the U.K. firms to pay for the incorporation out of its own accounts.”

  “Thanks so much for this, Brenda. Who knows, none of it may be necessary, but I agree that we’re far better off being safe than sorry.”

  “If the film is any good, I can almost guarantee that, given the subject matter, it will not go unnoticed in China,” Brenda said. “And by the way, do send me the script. It would be irresponsible of me as your lawyer not to know what’s motivating you to do this.”

  “It’s in Chinese.”

  “We use a top-notch translation service. How long is the script?”

  “A hundred and twenty pages.”

  “That won’t take long. Please send it to me.”

  “Okay, I will. Have you seen any of Lau Lau’s early films?”

  “No, I’m woefully ignorant when it comes to Chinese cinema.”

  “Watch one or two with Fai in them. Lau Lau was amazing in his ability to dissect lives and capture emotion. I truly believe that he wasn’t just China’s greatest film director; he’s one of the best the world has seen. Maybe with a little help he can reclaim that reputation,” Ava said. “As for my motivation, when I think of him, I always remember the pleasure and inspiration I got from his films. This is my attempt to repay him for what he gave to me, and to so many others.”

  (12)

  Ava sat quietly in the kitchen, staring out the window towards Avenue Road, for almost half an hour after speaking to Brenda Burgess. The lawyer’s concerns — when added to those of Fai and Chen — had her wondering if she was being foolish in her determination to finance Lau Lau’s film. Thoughts about the money brought one of Brenda’s questions to mind, a question Ava hadn’t been able to answer. She picked up the phone again and this time called Beijing.

  “I’m talking to you more often than to any of my clients,” Chen said after he answered.

  “Sorry to be a nuisance, but I’ve been thinking about the money you’ll need to make Lau Lau’s film. Have you given any thought yet to the budget?”

  “Actually I have. If we can restrict the bulk of the shooting to Beijing, and if Fai and Lau Lau work cheaply, then we should be able to bring it in for five or six million U.S.”

  “What might prevent you from shooting in Beijing?”

  “We would need permits from the China Movie Syndicate and the city,” Chen said. “We won’t get them with the script as it reads now, so we would have to change it to get past them and then go back to the original script when we shoot. That’s how we used to do it in the old days.”

  “But what if you can’t get permits?”

  “We could shoot some general exteriors in Beijing and then move the rest of the production to someplace like Taipei. It would cost a bit more, but we wouldn’t be hassled.”

  “That sounds simpler, and the extra cost shouldn’t be an issue,” Ava said. “I would also want Lau Lau and Fai to be paid properly. I don’t think a discounted rate is fair to them.”

  “That’s good of you. I’ll build those numbers into a budget over the next week or so and send it to you,” Chen said. “Another decision that has to be made is who will talk to Lau Lau about the script and when will they do it. I’m sure he’s anxious to hear our reactions. And the first question out of his mouth will be when he can start filming.”

  “Take me through the timing,” Ava said. “Assuming there are no major impediments, when would we have a finished film?”

  “Well, we have a script, a director, and a star, which is a great start. If we shoot in Taipei we’ll have to do some location scouting, but that wouldn’t be onerous,” Chen said. “So, all in all, I think we could begin filming in four or five months. Lau Lau works quickly, but I’d still give him three months to finish. Then we have post-production and editing to complete. In total, I would expect to have the final product in about a year. Of course, we’d still have to figure out the marketing and publicity, and we’d have to be smart about planning the release.”

  “Okay. So if we hold off for a week or two before talking to Lau Lau, that won’t be a big problem?”

  “Not in terms of making the film, but he’ll be getting more frantic with each passing day.”

  “I don’t doubt that’s true, but I have some very complicated issues to work through, and I need some time to do it. In fact, you probably won’t hear much from me over the next week or so.”

  “How about I call him tomorrow,” Chen said. “I’ll start with an apology. I’ll tell him I’ve been up to my armpits in problems and haven’t had a chance to read the script yet. I’ll promise to read it over the weekend and to forward it to Fai. That should appease him and buy you some time.”

  “Thanks for that, Chen,” Ava said. Then she saw she had an incoming call with the country code 31. “I’m sorry, I have to hang up now. There’s a call I need to take.”

  She switched lines. “Jacob, did you have any success?”

  “I did,” he said. “This has turned out to be one of those days that happen all too infrequently. You must be my good-luck charm.”

  “It’s more likely that you’re mine,” she said. “What happened?”

  “I managed to contact Mr. Jaswa, the diamond trader I dealt with before. He remembered me, and when I explained the reason for my call, he agreed to help. I gave him the name of the company that Jasmine Yip wired money to. He knows the owner very well and is going to arrange for me to visit.”

  “That sounds almost too easy.”

  “Truthfully, he was a bit reluctant to become involved in another company’s business affairs, but when I told him about the size of the scam and Phillip Gregory’s suicide, he came over to our side,” Smits said. “He also made it clear that, while he will open the doors for me, it’s up to me to convince the trader to share his information.”

  “Do you expect to hear back from him today?”

  “I hope so.”

  “And if the result is positive?”

  “I’ll head to Antwerp tomorrow.”

  “Maybe I’ll join you,” Ava said suddenly. “KLM flies direct from Toronto to Amsterdam. Let me check the flight schedule.”

  Without waiting for his reply, she opened her computer, typed in “KLM Toronto Amsterdam,” and within seconds saw there was a flight that evening at 5:15 that would get her into Amsterdam at 6:30 the next morning. She checked the availability in business class and saw that it was open. “I can be in Amsterdam first thing tomorrow morning,” she told Smits.

  “I didn’t expect that,” he said.

  “Apologies. It just suddenly seemed the right thing to do. I don’t know why I didn’t think of it before.”

  “It isn’t a problem. I’d like to have you with me, but what if I don’t hear back from Mr. Jaswa today?”

  “I don’t mind spending a day or two in Amsterdam while we wait.”

  Smits laughed. “I’d forgotten how quickly you like to act.”

  “Holding these fraudsters to account has become increasingly important to me. Plus, I’m very curious about this Jasmine Yip. Talking with someone who did business with her might give me a better sense of who we’re dealing with.”

  “Well, hopefully there’ll be no need to wait in Amsterdam,” Smits said. “Do you want me to meet you at the airport?”

  “Have you finally bought a car?”

  “No, I’m still riding my
bicycle, but I can get a taxi.”

  “That’s way too much trouble, and besides, I arrive at six-thirty,” Ava said. “I’ll book a room at the Dylan Hotel, where I stayed on my last trip. That will give me a chance to freshen up.”

  “I’ll make every effort to get back to you before your flight,” said Jacob.

  Ava ended the call and, to her surprise, felt a surge of excitement. Despite all the negative things she’d said to Mimi and others about the debt-collection business, it had often provided a rush of adrenalin and an almost unbridled sense of satisfaction when she and Uncle were successful. Her conversation with Jacob had rekindled that feeling. I guess I haven’t completely lost my appetite for the hunt, she thought. I just hope I haven’t lost my talent for it.

  She picked up the phone again and in rapid succession booked an airport limo; called her mother and left a message that Fai had gone to Taiwan for work and that she’d be out of town for a few days; and, after debating whether to phone or text, sent a text to Derek saying she was headed to Europe and would contact him when she could. She checked the time and thought that Fai might be sleeping, so Ava texted her to say she was heading to Amsterdam to pursue the money stolen from Mr. Gregory and that she’d contact her when she arrived. When she had finished, she went into the bedroom.

  Many of the jobs she and Uncle had taken on had involved extensive and sometimes rapid travel. In fact, it hadn’t been unusual for her to be in a different city or country every day for three or more successive days. Over the course of the first few years she had figured out how to pack to accommodate the sudden changes in her schedule. She had a Louis Vuitton bag that could hold her small laptop, a Moleskine notebook, and her passport, wallet, and phone. Her Shanghai Tang Double Happiness bag was large enough to hold one pair each of pumps and flat shoes, a pencil skirt, two pairs of slacks, three shirts, underwear, T-shirts, and a small toilet kit. If she didn’t have an immediate appointment at her arrival destination, she often travelled in a T-shirt, running shoes, training pants, and an Adidas jacket. Given how early she’d be arriving in Amsterdam, she decided to go casual. She laid the clothes and shoes on the bed and headed for the bathroom to shower.