The Diamond Queen of Singapore

by Ian Hamilton

  (35)

  The Air China flight arrived in Beijing on time. Ava didn’t have to change terminals for her connection to Air Canada, and she arrived at the Air China business-class lounge with an hour to spare. It was packed with travellers, and Ava had to circle twice before she found a seat that provided some measure of privacy. She checked her phone for messages, saw none, and pulled up Johnny Yan’s cell number.

  “Ava Lee?” he answered almost immediately.

  “Hi, Johnny. Thanks for taking my call. I hope my timing isn’t inconvenient.”

  “I was just about to leave the house for work.”

  “Can you talk?”

  “Of course. But maybe the question should be not if I can talk to you, but if I should talk to you.”

  “I’m really sorry that last project caused you so much trouble,” Ava said.

  “I’m teasing you,” Johnny said. “I was on a slow track to nowhere at that bank, and you motivated me — intentionally or not — to get off my butt and look elsewhere. Now I’m in a job that I really love and I’m making almost double the money.”

  “That’s great to hear. But it also makes me hesitant to ask if you could do me another favour,” she said. “Just say no if you don’t want me to continue.”

  “I’ll listen, but that’s all I’ll promise,” he said.

  “That’s entirely enough,” she said, gathering her thoughts. “Have you heard of Harvest Table Bible Chapel?”

  “Is that the megachurch up around Aurora?”

  “That’s the one.”

  “What could you possibly be doing with them?”

  “I don’t believe I should get into a lot of detail with you. It’s best if I keep it simple,” Ava said. “I just promise you, Johnny, that I’m not doing anything illegal.”

  “Okay, keep it simple.”

  “To begin with, this doesn’t involve your bank. The chapel banks at Eastern Canadian Commerce. I’m hoping that you have some contacts there.”

  “And if I do?”

  “I need to know about some activity in the chapel’s account,” she said. “Specifically, over the past couple of years it’s been able to pay down its mortgage by sixty-four million dollars. That amount of money didn’t trickle its way into the account by way of the weekly collection plate. I suspect there have been several large deposits from another source. I’d really like to know what that source is.”

  “What do you suspect?”

  “I have a hunch the money is coming from an offshore account, possibly located in Vanuatu.”

  Johnny became quiet, and Ava wondered if her request went beyond what he thought he could deliver.

  “If you don’t have any contacts that can help, I understand,” she said.

  “I have a relatively senior contact, but she’s not Chinese. We’ve traded favours in the past, but I don’t want to owe her one on your behalf. I’d rather be able to offer her something concrete.”

  “I’ll pay her,” Ava said quickly.

  “She’d be insulted if I made that kind of offer,” Johnny said. “I’m thinking more along the lines of throwing some business her way. She’s trying to build a wealth management division at the bank, and I know it’s been a bit of a struggle. Would you consider putting some of your money under her management?”

  “Is she capable?”

  “Very. She’s also discreet, and she could be a useful contact for you.”

  “How much money would I have to put up?”

  “Twenty million would be a good start,” he said.

  “Fine. I’ll meet with her when I’m back in Toronto, and we’ll make some arrangements. In the meantime, I’d love to get my hands on that information.”

  “I’ll call her as soon we hang up.”

  “What’s her name?”

  “Susan Kennedy.”

  “Please stress to her that there’s some urgency to this.”

  “To be clear, we’re talking about large deposits totalling sixty-four million dollars going into the Harvest Table Chapel account over the past couple of years?”

  “Yes. And to be clearer, I’d like to know the sizes of the deposits, when they were made, and, of course, where they originated,” Ava said. “And if she looks into the account and sees other transactions — in or out — that look odd, I’d like to hear about those as well. The sixty-four million might be only part of what’s been going on.”

  “I think it’s best that I act as an intermediary,” he said after a slight pause.

  “That’s fine by me. I’m going to be in transit for the next thirteen hours or so, but I’m flying on Air Canada, so I should have access to Wi-Fi for part of the flight.”

  “If I get something I’ll send it to you. Otherwise we can talk when you land,” Johnny said. “I’m dying to ask what all this is about, but experience tells me I’m better off not knowing.”

  “Then it’s better not to ask,” Ava said.

  She ended the call and walked over to the lounge bar to get a glass of Chardonnay. She took out her notebook and wrote Susan Kennedy’s name next to the entry for the Eastern Canadian Commerce Bank. Ava had a lot of balls in the air. Sipping the wine with gusto, she thought about the flight ahead of her. On the flight from Chengdu to Beijing she had gone through the emails, purchase orders, and other documents that Su Na and the Yang brothers had given her. She thought she had a firm grasp on what they contained and didn’t see any real value in reviewing them again. I should take this opportunity to relax, she thought. A few more glasses of wine on the plane and maybe the distraction offered by a good film might do the trick. As she finished her glass and was contemplating getting another, she heard the first boarding announcement for her flight. Ava liked to board early and get settled, so she got up and headed for the gate.

  Half of the Signature Class pods were occupied by the time Ava boarded. When she first started flying to Asia on a regular basis, business class had offered a wider, deeper seat, good wine and food, and not much else. Now with the pods there was a measure of privacy and, importantly, lie-flat beds. She had always been able to sleep during flights, but the bed was a definite plus.

  After the flight attendant served her a glass of Prosecco, Ava purchased the Wi-Fi service. She knew it didn’t work perfectly and that there would be blackouts en route, but it still gave her a feeling of being in control of what was happening on the ground.

  The Prosecco was replaced by champagne after takeoff. As Ava sipped she searched the entertainment system for a film to watch. There was nothing new that appealed to her, but under the classics she was drawn to Key Largo with Bogart and Bacall, and then in the foreign section she found In the Mood for Love. She had seen it at least three times before, and on every occasion it had been just after a romance ended. The film’s melancholy atmosphere and the sadness of the unrequited love story were like rubbing salt into an open wound; the extreme emotions it generated had helped Ava move on. How would the film affect her now that she was happily in love?

  Ava’s mother adored the female lead, Maggie Cheung, partly because she had been told countless times that she resembled her. There was some truth in the comparison, but Ava’s appreciation of Cheung emanated from her talent. She was a marvellous actress, definitely on a par with Gong Li and only — in Ava’s biased eyes — a bit short of matching Fai. The male lead was Tony Chiu-wai Leung, a versatile actor who starred in comedy, gangster, and drama films with equal success. Ava selected the film.

  Twenty minutes later she was so absorbed that she hardly heard the flight attendant asking what she wanted for dinner. She chose beef medallions and a Cabernet Sauvignon. She ate slowly, finished one glass of wine, and started another as the characters’ lives kept intersecting but never connecting. When they finally realized they had feelings for each other, they began a platonic relationship that led nowhere because their opportuni
ties to commit always ended up unfulfilled. It was this failure to commit that had gripped Ava when she saw the film previously, because that had been her role in the relationships that had ended. Now all she saw was the loneliness it left in its wake, and she felt a twinge of guilt for the way she had treated some of her lovers. She had thought from time to time about reaching out to them to see how they were doing, but she’d always decided it was best to let bygones be bygones.

  When the film ended Ava’s first thought was to email a love note to Fai. She tried to open the Wi-Fi, but without success. What the hell, she thought as she drained her second glass of Cabernet. She looked around the cabin for the flight attendant and saw that many of the cabin’s lights were dimmed. Almost reflexively she adjusted her seat to flat bed mode, covered herself with a blanket, and moments later, savouring memories of her and Fai naked and intertwined, fell asleep.

  She found herself sitting in an old-style business-class seat with Uncle next to her.

  I hope I am not being a nuisance, he said.

  I’m always happy when you visit me, though it’s never been in a plane before, she said. In fact, in all those years we worked together I can remember only a handful of times we flew together.

  One time was auspicious — when we flew to Wuhan to meet May Ling and Changxing. Who would have thought that would turn out the way it did.

  The only reason May and I are friends is because you forced me towards her. Without your counsel I’d still be thinking of her as an enemy, not one of my very best friends.

  May loves and she trusts you completely, he said. I noticed that again when you were speaking to her about financing the Tiananmen film. When you mentioned wanting to put off discussing financing because there might be other options, she did not ask you what those options might be. She trusts that you will tell her when you think the time is right.

  Except I don’t have any other options, Ava said. I was stalling.

  I have been thinking about it, and I believe there is a way that the money you need to finance the film can be captured and put in place without any of your businesses ever being associated with it.

  How?

  You are going to close this case, I know you are. Your fee will be ten million dollars. Do not collect it directly. Have the money deposited into Todd Howell’s bank account and have his law firm send it to the BB Productions account at Barclays Bank. You will be invisible.

  Howell would have to agree to that, she said, but she sensed immediately that Uncle had found the answer to her dilemma.

  He will do it, Uncle said.

  (36)

  Ava awoke to find herself in the pod without Uncle beside her. She was somewhere over the Pacific Ocean and had a desperate need to go to the bathroom. With their conversation still resonating in her head, she grabbed her toilet kit and hurried down the aisle. She had slept for more than six hours, which meant only four hours to go; they were already flying over Canadian territory.

  Ten minutes later she left the bathroom feeling refreshed. She asked a flight attendant for coffee, turned down the offer of breakfast, and opened her computer. Accessing the Wi-Fi, Ava smiled when she saw she was connected and went to her email. There were nine unanswered messages, but the one that captured her immediate interest was from Johnny Yan. “Please be good news,” she murmured as she opened it.

  She scanned it quickly then reached for her notebook and pen. Rereading the message, she was amazed once more by Johnny’s ability to get the information she needed. Canadian banks prided themselves on the security they provided their customers, but even if they’d built the most complicated security systems in the world, there was nothing to prevent someone who had authorized access sharing what they found with someone who didn’t. Johnny’s talent lay in winning the trust of many kindred spirits in the banking community who could help provide that access.

  She hit the Reply button and typed, I can’t thank you enough for this. Please tell Susan that I will most definitely put twenty million into the wealth management division. The only other question I have is: what can I do for you?

  Ava sat back in her seat and started calculating how the information could be put to the best use. “Ms. Lee, here is your coffee,” a voice interrupted.

  “Thank you,” Ava said, and quickly added, “I would appreciate a refill in a few minutes.”

  When the flight attendant had left, she wrote to Derek: I don’t know what you’ve found in the U.S., but I think I already have enough information to proceed against Harvest Table. I am on an Air Canada flight direct from Beijing to Toronto, and I obviously have access to email. I should be arriving in Toronto around 10 a.m. Can you meet me at the airport? I also think a meeting with Todd Howell is necessary. Are you available if I can set one up for this afternoon?

  The coffee was lukewarm. Ava drank it anyway, emptying her cup and pushing it to one side. She was about to start a message to Howell when she saw she had just received one from Jasmine Yip. She opened it and read: I thought you should know $3.2 million was put in the Chengdu account a few hours ago. Muir always calls with instructions soon after, so I expect to hear from him.

  Ava replied: Thanks for the update. Please let me know the moment he calls and what he has to say. Emailing is best. Under no circumstances do I want you to transfer the money from that account to Golden Emperor, or to anyone else, until I tell you it’s okay. If Muir insists that you do, find a way to put him off for about twenty-four hours. Tell him the bank is closed for a Chinese holiday or something like that.

  Three million dollars was a start, she thought, and given that she had the password, she could move it out of the account herself. But the timing wasn’t right. The last thing she wanted was to alert Muir that they were on his trail. Assuming that the people she’d threatened into secrecy kept their mouths closed, she still had the element of surprise. That surprise, properly leveraged, could be a powerful weapon.

  The flight attendant came down the aisle with a pot of coffee. “Do you still want a refill?” she asked, interrupting Ava’s thought process.

  “Sure,” Ava said, and was immediately distracted by an email arriving from Derek. She waited for the attendant to leave before opening it.

  He wrote: Good to hear from you, and even happier you’re arriving today. Sounds like you’re still making progress. I made a little headway. I found the website and talked a friend in New York into registering. The site sells a wide range of drugs. I have a list of the products, selling prices, and payment options if you need them. I bought some synthetic marijuana, and when I chose to pay by wire transfer I was directed to a bank in Charlotte, North Carolina. That’s where I dead-ended. I couldn’t get into the bank’s system or the website’s. I’ll keep trying if you want.

  I just checked your arrival time and the flight is on schedule. I’ll meet you at the airport. Do you want me to call Howell and ask him to be on standby for this afternoon? As for me going to a meeting, I’m available 24 hours a day until this thing is resolved.

  Ava replied: Too bad about the U.S. bank, but don’t sweat it. It was a long shot, and we don’t actually need that information to make our move in Canada. And yes, I think calling Howell is a good idea. When you reach him, tell him we’ll definitely be meeting and I expect him to put everything else aside. You should also say that I’m in the air but have access to email. I’d like to know what he’s managed to uncover. Does that sound too bossy?

  Seconds later, Derek wrote: No more bossy than usual. He’ll get used to it — like I did.

  Ava smiled. She had almost forgotten how humorous Derek could be, and he was often at his drollest when events were most dire. Even when they were about to take on armed men, he’d found a way to make it seem like a game that the poor suckers on the other side had no chance of winning.

  Sipping her coffee, which was fresher and hotter than before, she contemplated the options she had for deali
ng with Harvest Table. None of them were particularly brilliant, and one of the reasons she wanted to meet with Howell was her hope that he’d help refine them. She hadn’t misspoken when she told Derek that the U.S. information wasn’t necessary. Susan Kennedy’s information had almost closed the circle around the Canadian operation; all that was missing was the name of the bank where the money used to buy drugs in Canada was being sent. Maybe Howell’s people had been able to burrow deeper than Derek, she thought as she returned to her laptop.

  Good morning, Todd. I’m inbound to Toronto and will arrive this morning. I want us to meet this afternoon. Derek will be calling you to emphasize how important it is that we do. In the meantime, could you let me know what your tech team managed to uncover? Best regards, Ava.

  She opened her notebook, riffed through the pages, and stopped at the one where she had diagrammed the route the Harvest Investment Fund’s money had taken. There was a large question mark over Evans Trust. Who controlled the flow of money from Evans Trust to the Jewellery Circle bank account in Chengdu? That question was still unanswered. She could make an intelligent guess, but knowing for certain would help determine which strategy they chose. Was it Muir? Cunningham? Rogers? Some combination of the three? The Harvest Table account at Eastern Canadian Commerce listed Cunningham and Rogers as co-signees, but that was normal enough; it would have been a surprise if they weren’t.

  Ava checked again for new emails and realized she was getting impatient. She had a couple of hours before they would land, and there wasn’t much more she could do from the air. I need to relax, she told herself. She opened the entertainment centre, found the HBO series Gentleman Jack — about an early nineteenth-century English lesbian — and began to watch the first episode, glancing frequently at the laptop. An hour later she had just started the second episode when a message appeared.