by Ian Hamilton
“This is a larger operation than I expected,” Ava said.
“It’s the biggest in Chengdu, and maybe in China, for all I know,” Han said. “Is that a problem?”
“Of course not. In fact, it could be the opposite. If the guys I’m chasing were their biggest customer, then they might be more reluctant to be honest with me. From the size of this place, they must have a lot of customers.”
“Don’t worry about them being reluctant. If they are, it won’t last long,” Han said.
Ava glanced at him, saw his stony expression, and decided it was best to stay quiet.
When the car pulled up at the gate, Willie lowered his window and shouted at one of the armed guards who stood inside. “Mr. Han is here to see the Yang brothers.”
The guard ran over to the security hut and spoke to someone inside. Seconds later, the gate swung open. As the car drove through, a man wearing a uniform with fringed epaulettes stepped out of the hut and came over. “If you go to the right, you’ll see parking reserved for company executives. A space has been left vacant for you,” he said to Han’s driver.
As they drove into the courtyard and started around the building, Ava realized it was even larger than she’d initially thought. They drove for about a hundred metres before finding a row of luxury cars parked against the side of the building. One spot was vacant. When they had parked, a double glass door on the side of the building opened and a middle-aged woman wearing a powder-blue leisure suit stepped outside.
“You stay here,” Han said to Willie and the driver. He opened the car door and slid out. Ava did the same from her side.
The woman stepped towards them. “Mr. Han, I am Mrs. Pan. I’m so pleased to greet you. And this young woman is?”
“Ava Lee,” Ava said.
“I’m not sure we were expecting you, Ms. Lee.”
“She’s with me. Is that a problem?”
“Of course not,” the woman said hurriedly. “Mr. Yang and Mr. Yang are waiting for you inside.”
“Lead the way,” Han said.
They walked through the door into a lobby with white marble floors and walls covered with prints of traditional Chinese waterfall scenes. Mrs. Pan led them to an elevator and pressed a button; the door opened at once. She stood to one side as Ava and Han entered. The elevator moved slowly but steadily for about a minute. Ava figured they were headed to the top of the building.
“How many levels are there in this building?” Ava asked.
“Six. The labs, production areas, and shipping and receiving occupy the first five. The top floor is reserved for marketing, purchasing, accounting, and our executive offices.”
“You’ve been asked that question before,” Ava said.
“Yes. Visitors are often confused by the lack of exterior windows clearly delineating the floors.”
The elevator came to a halt. When the doors opened Ava saw a spacious reception area with a young man sitting behind a desk, flanked by security guards. As they approached the reception desk, the man looked questioningly at Mrs. Pan.
“These are special guests. They aren’t required to sign in,” she said to him.
They looped around the desk and came upon a double set of wooden doors. The woman turned an ornate brass handle on one of the doors and opened it. “There’s water, tea, and coffee on the credenza to the right. Please help yourselves and make yourselves comfortable while I get Mr. Yang and Mr. Yang.”
The boardroom was about thirty metres long and fifteen metres wide. A massive teak table sat in the centre, surrounded by thirty black leather chairs. The walls were covered in whiteboards and television screens. There were six credenzas; one held a pitcher of water, carafes, glasses, and cups and saucers, while the other five displayed an enormous number of jade sculptures and ceramic plates.
“Do you want something to drink?” Han asked.
“No thanks.”
“Me neither,” he said, taking a seat facing the door.
Ava sat next to him.
“The way we’ll do this is I’ll tell them you have questions you need them to answer,” Han said. “Then I’ll shut up and let you do your thing.”
“That’s fine,” Ava said, as the door opened.
Mrs. Pan entered the room first, followed by two men in white lab coats who already looked uncomfortable. They were short and middle-aged, and each had a full head of black hair streaked with grey. One had a plump face and a pot belly that pressed against the lab coat; the other wasn’t quite as rotund, and his face was pale. They wore white shirts and ties under their coats.
The Yang brothers crossed the floor with uncertain smiles on their faces and with hands extended. Han stood up. He towered over them, the men’s heads barely reaching the middle of his chest. “Thanks for seeing us,” he said.
“It has been a long time,” the thinner brother said, and then looked at Ava. “Our families have known each other for many years, but I don’t believe we’ve met you . . .”
“Ava is a special friend of a special friend of mine.”
“Ah,” the man said, offering her his hand. “My name is Jing, and my brother is Chao.”
“I’m Ava Lee. Pleased to meet you both,” she said, shaking their hands.
The brothers sat across the table from Ava and Han. Mrs. Pan sat several chairs away with a notebook open on the table in front of her.
“What’s the notebook for?” Han asked.
“We maintain records of all our meetings. It helps clear up any misunderstandings that might emerge later,” Jing said.
“Are you okay with that?” Han asked Ava.
“No.”
Han looked at Jing. “No notebook.”
Jing hesitated, then said, “Okay. But do you have any objections if our assistant stays?”
“She can stay,” Ava said.
Han nodded, then put his forearms on the table and leaned forward. “Thanks for seeing us. I asked for this meeting as a favour to the special friend I mentioned earlier. Now I’m going to turn things over to Ava. She has some questions and I’d like you to answer them.”
“We’ll certainly do the best we can,” Jing said.
“Tell me, do the names Jewellery Circle, Jasmine Yip, Malcolm Muir, or Patrick Cunningham mean anything to you?” Ava said.
Jing frowned then looked at his brother, who frowned in return. Chao looked at Han and said, “You have to understand that the business we’re in demands a large amount of trust. We may not take an oath of secrecy like in your organization, but we still feel obliged to protect certain information that comes our way as we conduct business.”
“I don’t know why you’re talking to me,” Han said. “Ava asked the question. Answer her.”
Chao turned his attention to Ava. “I’m sorry, we can’t answer that question. And I say that to you not because of the specific names you mentioned. You could have asked about a hundred different names and our answer would be the same.”
“You little weasel!” Han roared as he got to his feet. He raised his right hand and slapped it down so hard that Ava felt the table tremble. She looked up at him and saw that his face was contorted with rage. She started to say something but stopped when he reached across the table, grabbed Chao by the knot in his Burberry tie, and lifted him out of the chair. He held him aloft for a few seconds, which was long enough that Chao started gasping for air.
“You will answer all her questions!” Han shouted as he threw the man back into his chair. He remained standing, glaring at the brothers. The scar on his face had turned bright red and seemed to be pulsating.
Ava could see that Mrs. Pan was trying to hold back tears. Chao’s eyes were blinking madly, and his hands were shaking. His brother had beads of sweat on his forehead.
Ava was stunned. The brothers looked terrified, and she actually felt a tinge of sympathy for
them. “You know what, I think I will have a glass of water,” she said softly.
(28)
Yang Jing stumbled towards the credenza, poured water into a glass, and brought it back to Ava. “Thank you,” she said.
“We are not trying to be difficult,” he said to her, his eyes avoiding Han.
“I understand that you have a sense of loyalty to the people you do business with. I respect that, but at the same time you need to understand that not all of them may be doing business in an ethical manner.”
“How would we know that?”
“Exactly, how would you know? The company and the people I mentioned, for example, may have presented themselves to you as law-abiding businesspeople. The problem is that they’re not. I have every reason to believe that they stole millions of dollars from ordinary working-class citizens, and that ultimately they’ve been using that money to buy drugs from you.”
“We know nothing about stolen money.”
“I’m not accusing you of doing something improper,” Ava said, looking at each brother in turn. “Do you need me to repeat the names I mentioned earlier?”
“Please,” Chao said.
Ava knew he was simply pretending he didn’t remember but decided to go along with it. “Okay. Why don’t I give you the names one by one so there’s no confusion.”
“Sure,” Chao said.
“Let’s start with Jewellery Circle. Do you do business with that company?”
“They are a customer.”
“A good customer?”
“That depends on what you mean by good,” Chao said.
Ava felt Han stiffen and spoke quickly to forestall another eruption. “Don’t play word games with me, Mr. Yang. All you’ll do is annoy Mr. Han and postpone the inevitable,” she said. “But just so we’re clear, is Jewellery Circle a regular customer? I’ll define that as buying from you several times a year.”
“Yes.”
“And do their purchases involve the transfer of millions rather than thousands of dollars?”
“Yes.”
“What kind of products do they buy?”
“A wide variety. Fentanyl, carfentanil, some other synthetic opioids, and synthetic marijuana in various forms.”
“All of them legal?”
“All of them are legal for us to manufacture and sell here in Chengdu. After they leave our factory, we have no way of knowing where they go, who they are sold to, or how they are used,” Chao said.
“Of course you don’t,” Ava said. “Now, do you know Jasmine Yip — or Yip Liling, as she might be known here?”
“My brother can answer that,” Chao said, glancing at Jing.
Jing wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and then focused his attention on Ava. “We know the name. It’s attached to transfers Jewellery Circle makes to us from the Mercantile Bank. But we’ve never met her.”
“You were never curious about meeting the woman who transfers millions of dollars to you?” Ava said.
“We didn’t need to know anything about her,” Chao said. “She has nothing to do with the business except arrange for the transfer of money.”
“She never discussed pricing with you or provided orders for product?”
“No.”
“Who does negotiate prices and orders with you on behalf of Jewellery Circle?”
The brothers shuffled in their chairs, their discomfort painfully obvious. “Tell her,” Han said, his voice level but menacing all the same.
“Malcolm Muir,” Jing said.
“How did your relationship with Mr. Muir begin?”
“We were referred to him by another customer.”
“Which customer?”
“SCM.”
“What do the initials stand for?”
“I don’t know,” Jing said.
“Are you still doing business with them?”
“Yes. They have an office and warehouse here in Chengdu,” Jing said, and then stopped abruptly as if he had realized he’d said more than he intended.
“Who is your contact at SCM?”
“A woman, Su Na.”
“That makes some sense,” Ava said. “Did you know she’s a joint holder of the Jewellery Circle account at your bank?”
“No, I didn’t,” Jing said. “Her name was never attached to any transfers from that account.”
“What else do you know about her?”
“What do you mean?”
“Don’t start getting evasive with me again. We were just starting to get along,” Ava said. “Where is she from? How long have you known her? What’s the nature of your business relationship?”
“She’s from Chengdu. We went to university together. She graduated with a chemistry degree the same year I did,” Chao said, intervening on his brother’s behalf. “She moved to Shanghai after graduation to work as a sales rep for a pharmaceutical company, but she came back here six or seven years ago with SCM. It’s an American company. She told me she manages their Chinese operations.”
“And those operations are buying and distributing pharmaceuticals?”
“I don’t know what else they do, but that much I know for certain.”
“Does SCM pay you out of the same account as Jewellery Circle?”
“No, they pay us separately. The money comes either from their account at the Mercantile Bank or from an account in Vanuatu.”
“Which bank in Vanuatu?”
“Not a bank. The Evans Trust Company.”
Ava felt the circle starting to close but thought it was too soon to pull it tighter. “I’d like to return to Malcolm Muir for a few minutes,” she said. “When were you first contacted by him?”
“About five years ago. I don’t have an exact date.”
“How was the contact made?”
“Su Na phoned me. She said she had friends who wanted to do business with us. It was Muir and the other man you mentioned.”
“Patrick Cunningham?”
“Yes. They were in Chengdu. She asked if she could bring them to the factory for a tour. We said okay, and one thing led to another,” Chao said.
“The business started quite small,” Jing added. “The orders were almost sample size. I figured they were testing our products in their market. But gradually their business picked up, and the last three years have been strong and getting stronger.”
“And you had no idea where their market was?”
“We could guess but we never asked. Truthfully, we didn’t want to know,” Jing said.
“Everything we do is legal. We are in compliance with all the Chinese rules and regulations regarding the production and sale of our products,” Chao said. “If someone else breaks a law, then it’s on them, not on us.”
“Again, I don’t doubt the legality of your business, and I’m not here to cause you grief. My issue is with Malcolm Muir and Patrick Cunningham,” Ava said. “How often do you hear from them?”
“We never saw or heard from Cunningham again, but every couple of months or so there’s an order from Muir.”
“How does he communicate with you?”
“He always phones first. We discuss products, quantities, and prices. When he’s ready to order, he sends an email,” Jing said.
“Can I see the emails?”
“Yes, but they probably won’t make much sense to you. He uses a code when he orders.”
“Different names for the products?”
“No, he uses numbers, and he changes them every few orders.”
“How do you know the codes?”
“He tells them to me over the phone.”
“But when you get the emails, don’t you transpose the codes into actual product names?”
“Of course.”
“Then I want to see the emails, your transposi
tions, and the final shipping documents.”
Jing raised an eyebrow at Chao. “We’ll provide you with everything we have,” Chao said.
“Excellent. Now, how often has Muir come to Chengdu?”
“Since the first trip he’s been coming about once a year. In fact, he’s scheduled to visit next month.”
“Does he come just to see you?”
“No. He usually spends a morning with us reviewing new products and that kind of thing, and then later in his visit we’ll have dinner with him.”
“How long is his average visit?” Ava asked.
“A week or so.”
“What does he do for the rest of the time?”
“I believe he spends most of it with Su Na.”
“Why would he do that?”
“I thought I made it clear that Muir and SCM take possession of our product here in Chengdu,” Jing said. “We ship everything they order to the SCM warehouse. They have their own business relationship, which we’re not privy to.”
“Muir’s order is delivered to the SCM warehouse?”
“Yes.”
“I apologize for not picking up on that earlier,” Ava said. “This is a complicated affair.”
“Not for us,” Chao said, asserting himself ever so slightly. “We take orders, fill them, and run our business in a proper, legal manner.”
“Fuck your sarcasm,” Han said suddenly.
“It wasn’t intended,” Chao said, nervous again.
“And I’m not offended,” Ava said. “Have you ever been to the SCM warehouse?”
“No.”
“Where is it?”
“The address is in an industrial park on the eastern boundary of the city. I’ll get you the address when we’re done here.”
“While you’re at it, could you also provide me with all the contact information you have on Su Na?”
“We’ll give you everything we have.”
“Thank you. I appreciate the co-operation,” Ava said. She hesitated as she searched her mind for questions that still needed answering. “How large was Muir’s last order?”