The Diamond Queen of Singapore

by Ian Hamilton

  She looked at the screen and saw a Singapore number. “This is Ava,” she said, coming to a stop.

  “This is Jasmine. What have you done?” she said angrily.

  “I assume you’re referring to my meeting with Patrick Cunningham this morning.”

  “What else? Essie just called her mother and went on a rant about me betraying the family by telling lies about Patrick.”

  “I thought I asked you not to have your phones on.”

  “My aunt doesn’t always listen to me, and it was her daughter who was calling, not Muir.”

  “Did you talk to Essie?”

  “She kept insisting that my aunt put me on the phone. I refused, because I didn’t know what to say to her,” Jasmine said. “You promised to keep me out of this, and now you’ve thrown me into the middle of it.”

  “Essie was probably calling to confirm what you told me. I said I would shield you, but there’s no way I could disguise the fact that you’re a key player in what’s been going on,” Ava said. “And I swear, the only time I mentioned Essie was to tell Cunningham she called you to ask if you could help Muir launder some money. Besides, we’re going to resolve this entire matter today. One way or another it will be over, and I will make sure that you and everyone else who helped me is protected.”

  “How can you do that?”

  “Cunningham knows we used triads to shut down the distribution warehouse in Chengdu. Su Na told him over the phone, and she emphasized that she was terrified of the men we used. So he and the others know I have connections with people who don’t always play nice. I will threaten to unleash those same people on them if they try to harm you.”

  “Okay . . . I guess.”

  “Listen, Jasmine, this thing with Essie will blow over.”

  Jasmine paused. “Is Essie in trouble?”

  “No, but Cunningham could be. We’ll know soon enough. He and his colleagues have a big decision to make. This will be resolved today,” Ava repeated.

  “You’re sure of that?’

  “Absolutely.”

  “Can you let me know which way it goes?”

  “Sure.”

  “Thanks. I hope you get what you want.”

  “Me too,” Ava said, and ended the call.

  Cunningham hadn’t wasted any time contacting his wife, and she had been just as quick to reach out to Singapore. It appeared that he was trying to confirm what Ava actually knew and how she had come to know it.

  Ava climbed the final steps to the museum, paid her admission fee, and was quickly immersed in the delicate world of ceramics. She spent over an hour in the Japanese and Chinese sections. As someone who could barely draw stick people, Ava was awed by the artistic ability and craftsmanship on display. After the Asian galleries, she made her way to a special exhibit called Savour: Food Culture in the Age of Enlightenment. As she was slowly taking it in, she checked the time and saw that the day was drifting by. She had left her phone on vibrate, and as she was leaving the exhibit, it buzzed.

  “This is Todd. How soon can you get back to my office?” he said.

  “What’s happened?”

  “I just got a phone call from the chapel’s lawyer. He wants to meet.”

  “That was fast.”

  “Hugh Campbell, the lead lawyer, has been in communication with the pastor. He said something uncomplimentary to me about your deadline and added that rushed law makes for bad law.”

  “Will the pastor be at the meeting?”

  “No, it will just be the lawyers — Campbell and two of his associates. Your attendance was specifically requested. I have to let Campbell know when you can get here.”

  “I’m two minutes from the Museum subway station. I can be in your office in about twenty minutes.”

  “Ava, I have to tell you that Campbell is quite formidable. He’s a top-notch lawyer, smart and tough,” Howell said. “If he has a weakness, it’s that he likes to lecture.”

  “I’m good at listening to lectures.”

  “Just don’t overreact if he starts to run on.”

  “I’ll behave,” she said. “See you in about twenty.”

  She called Derek while she was walking to the subway station. “Hey,” he answered.

  “The chapel lawyers want to meet. I’m heading to Howell’s office.”

  “Shit, I can’t leave the house right now. Mimi went out to run a few errands and I’m alone with Amber.”

  “Well, come when you can. We’ll probably start without you, but I’ll try to stall so you don’t miss too much.”

  “I’ll head downtown as soon as Mimi gets here.”

  “See you soon.”

  (46)

  Eddie Ng was waiting for her at reception when she arrived at Howell, Barker, and Mason. “Todd will be here in a minute, but he wants to know if you want me to cover the whiteboards again,” he said.

  “Leave them as they are, and make sure we have three sets of the documents to hand out,” she said.

  “Everything is set.”

  She and Eddie went into the boardroom and took the same seats they’d used that morning.

  “Hey,” Howell said from the doorway.

  Ava saw that he’d changed into a crisp white shirt. “You’ve dressed for the occasion,” she said.

  “Campbell is always immaculately dressed. He thinks it gives him a psychological advantage,” Howell said, joining them at the table.

  “I looked up Campbell on the way here,” Ava said. “I wouldn’t have thought someone that senior would be involved in day-to-day operations. Is there a reason why he’s handling this personally?”

  “Money,” Howell said.

  There was a knock at the door and the office assistant said, “Your visitors are here, Mr. Howell.”

  “Show them in,” he said.

  Both Howell and Eddie Ng stood up. Ava did the same.

  The tall, thin man who led the trio of visitors into the boardroom had a striking appearance. Campbell was six feet two inches tall, Ava guessed, with thinning ginger hair tinged with grey and a neatly trimmed beard. Bright blue eyes were set over a long, narrow nose. He wore a charcoal-grey suit that looked tailored, a white shirt, and a tartan tie of blue and green squares with thin lines of red and white.

  “Thanks for seeing us on such short notice, Todd,” he said in a plummy voice. “These are my associates, Greg Berry and Lisa Tran.”

  Howell extended his hand. “It’s my pleasure, Hugh. And these are my associates, Eddie Ng and Ava Lee.”

  “Hi, Lisa,” Eddie said. “Good to see you again.”

  “Same here, Eddie,” she said, and looked at Campbell. “Eddie and I graduated in the same class.”

  Campbell shook Howell’s hand and then turned to Ava. “I’ve been looking forward to meeting you,” he said.

  “I can’t imagine why,” Ava said, her eyes on his tie. “Is that the Campbell tartan?”

  “This is Campbell of Cawdor,” he said. “There are four official Campbell tartans. This is the most colourful; it brightens up what I’m told is a somewhat dour personality.”

  “Let’s sit,” Howell said. “Does anyone want coffee or tea before we start?”

  “I think we should get right down to business,” Campbell said. “But before we start, Todd, do you have any objections if this meeting is off the record? This is complicated subject matter, and I think candour from both sides would be beneficial.”

  “I have no problem with that,” Howell said.

  “Do you speak for Ms. Lee as well?”

  “On that subject he does,” Ava said.

  “Excellent,” Campbell said. He sat across from them, with Tran and Berry on either side. Berry looked to be in his thirties. His hair was dishevelled, his face was haggard, and he seemed tired. Lisa Tran was petite and wore a black pantsuit an
d no makeup, which made her look pale; her silky black hair was tied back like Ava’s. She and Berry had notepads in front of them and pens in hand.

  “I would like to start, if you have no objections,” Campbell said. Before Howell could answer he nodded at Ava. “I would like to know more about you, young lady. You appear out of nowhere, reinvigorate my friend Howell and that tiresome Harvest Investment Fund situation he chased so unsuccessfully, and then you put the fear of God into Patrick Cunningham. So tell me, who are you? What’s your stake in this?”

  “Hugh, I don’t think this is —” Howell began.

  “No, Todd, I don’t mind answering those questions,” Ava interrupted. “I am a Toronto resident, Mr. Campbell. I’m a trained forensic accountant with degrees from York University and Babson College in Wellesley, Massachusetts. I worked for more than ten years with a partner in Hong Kong in the debt-collection business.”

  “You’re a debt collector?” Campbell said, managing to combine surprise and disappointment.

  “I was a debt collector, but we didn’t work for Visa or American Express. The debts we pursued were in the millions. Tommy Ordonez, the wealthiest man in the Philippines, was twice a client and is now a friend, and so was Changxing Wong, one of the wealthiest men in China. But not all our clients were situated in Asia. We represented, for example, a group of Canadian citizens of Vietnamese origin who lost more than thirty million dollars in a bank scam. We recovered it all,” she said, and noticed Lisa Tran glance at Eddie.

  “When my partner died, I closed the agency and started an investment company with two friends. We are majority shareholders in various companies in Asia.”

  “What kind of companies?”

  “Logistics, warehousing, a furniture manufacturer, and a trading company. And we control PÖ, a fashion house in Shanghai that sells worldwide.”

  “Have you heard of PÖ?” Campbell asked Lisa Tran.

  “I have. It’s a very trendy brand,” she said.

  “That’s enough about your personal affairs, I think,” Campbell said. “Now, why are you involved in this business?”

  “My best friend’s family was torn apart when her father committed suicide in a shed in the family’s garden. He had lost his entire life’s savings to the crooked Harvest Investment Fund. My friend reached out for help getting the money back, and I said I would try. That’s when I met Todd. He shared what he had with me, and I took it from there.”

  “To where?” Campbell asked.

  “Todd had traced the money to Amsterdam. I tracked it from there to Antwerp, then to Guangzhou, and then to Chengdu, where it’s being used to purchase synthetic drugs that are distributed in Canada.” Ava pointed to the whiteboards. “If you wish, I’ll take you through what happened in detail. And we can provide you with a paper trail of bank documents, emails, company registrations, purchase orders for drugs, and customer orders for the same. I gave a copy of those papers to Patrick Cunningham, but I doubt he had time to share them with you. We also have some photos if you want to see them.”

  “I am interested in your presentation, and we will also examine the paperwork, but to put it all in a proper context, perhaps you could tell me what kind of result you’re expecting after all this effort.”

  “I’m expecting that by midnight today the people responsible for this scam will agree to put thirty-five million dollars into this firm’s bank account and then conclude the transaction within a few days.”

  “Mr. Cunningham explained that to us. I was hoping he hadn’t heard correctly,” Campbell said. “He also mentioned various actions you threatened to undertake if your financial demands aren’t met. I have to tell you, Ms. Lee, threats like those carry absolutely no weight with me.”

  “I hope Cunningham also explained Harvest Table’s involvement in the drug business I mentioned a moment ago.”

  Campbell smiled. “Mr. Cunningham told us what information you claim to have, but I want to hear your reiteration. Given the time constraints, could you stick to the main points? ”

  “Certainly,” Ava said. She spoke for more than thirty minutes, using the whiteboards to cover the major points and tying them neatly together. No one else said a word, but Campbell’s attention never left her, and Berry and Tran made copious notes. When she had finished, she pointed to the document packages in front of Todd Howell. “As I said earlier, we also have a paper trail. Eddie, could you pass everyone a documentation package?”

  Eddie walked to the other side of the table and put a file in front of each of the Campbell lawyers. “Why don’t we give you an hour to review the documents, and then we can reconvene,” Ava said.

  “You seem inordinately fond of setting deadlines, Ms. Lee,” Campbell said with a slight smile. “We’ll advise you when we’re done.”

  Ava stood up. “We’ll leave you to it then.” She left the boardroom, with Eddie and Howell trailing behind.

  “We’ll go to my office,” Howell said.

  When they got there, Howell held the door open for Ava and Eddie and then closed it behind them. He sat down behind his desk, shook his head, and said, “Your presentation was terrific. I kept waiting for Campbell to interrupt you with questions or comments, but you had him transfixed.”

  “I wanted him to realize that we’re dealing in facts.”

  “I have no doubt he got that message, and it will be hammered home even more forcibly when he sees that the paperwork supports everything you said.”

  “I hope you’re right,” Ava said, looking past Howell at the view out his window. “Now we’re back to waiting. I think I’ll go downstairs and get some fresh air.”

  “Don’t wander too far,” said Howell.

  Ava took the elevator to the ground floor and walked out onto King Street. The building had benches set along its front wall, and she sat down on one that was in the shade.

  Her phone rang and she leapt at it, thinking it might be Howell telling her to come back to the office.

  “Is this Ava Lee I’m talking to?” a man asked with faintly Southern twang.

  “It is. And who is this?”

  “I’m Randy Simmons. I believe you know of me.”

  “I do. I assume you’re calling me because Su Na asked you to.”

  “She did.”

  “Good.”

  “That doesn’t make this any better in my eyes.”

  “It is a complicated situation.”

  “Not from where I sit,” Simmons said. “What I’ve got is a woman I don’t know closing my business for no reason I can understand. I’m not taking kindly to it.”

  “Have you spoken to Sammy Rogers yet?”

  “My business has nothing to do with Sammy Rogers.”

  “Unfortunately it does, since he’s using your facility in Chengdu to distribute his drugs,” Ava said.

  “He pays us for a service, that’s all. Su Na says she made a commitment to you not to fill any more Canadian orders. You can leave some of your men there to make sure she keeps her word.”

  “It’s more complex than that. I think of you and Sammy Rogers as partners — maybe not in a formal way, but your businesses are certainly intertwined. You market your products the same way. You have the same supplier. You share the same warehouse. You use the same distribution method. I know you even bank at the same places, and Rogers’s websites bear an uncanny resemblance to yours.”

  Simmons paused, and Ava knew he was evaluating what he’d just heard. “I repeat, we are paid for providing a service. We will cancel the service. We will sever all ties with the Harvest Table organization until whatever problem you have with them is resolved. I don’t know why that wouldn’t satisfy you.”

  “I’m sorry, but I’m keeping the warehouse closed until the issues with Rogers are resolved.”

  “What issues? I have no idea what this is about. Su Na said it was something to d
o with money. If it is, it has nothing to do with me. Sammy operates independently from us.”

  “Sammy and his partners stole a substantial amount of money from the people I’m representing. He used that money to fund the drug business. My intention is to get that money back.”

  “You want me to pressure him to pay you? Is that what this is about?” Simmons said.

  “It is,” Ava said.

  “Well, that makes things clear. But even if I agreed, why would Sammy listen to me? He’s his own man.”

  “That’s for you to figure out. You know him better than I do. Pressure him, persuade him, or threaten him — whatever you think will work — but find a way to convince him he has to settle with us. As long as he doesn’t, the warehouse in Chengdu will stay closed.”

  Simmons became quiet and then said harshly, “What you’re doing is breaking the law.”

  “Coming from someone who’s illegally selling painkillers, I find that comment more than a little hypocritical.”

  “We’re providing relief to people whose lives would otherwise be full of suffering,” he said.

  “Whatever you choose to believe.”

  “I can’t tell you how much I hate this conversation and how distasteful I find you,” Simmons said. “This sticks in my craw, and every fibre in my body wants to tell you to go fuck yourself.”

  “This situation calls for you to be logical, not emotional.”

  Simmons became quiet, and Ava wondered if she had lost him.

  “I’ll call Sammy and I’ll give it my best shot, but only because I have to,” he said finally. “But what if I can’t get him to come to your party? Is there any room for us to work out something else?”

  “We need to see results. The distribution centre will stay closed until Rogers pays us.”

  “You are a real bitch,” he said.

  “I’ve been called worse.”

  The line went dead. That didn’t go so badly, Ava thought. She hadn’t set out to make Simmons angry, but given that she had, her hope was that his anger would be transferred to Rogers.