by Ian Hamilton
“I beg your pardon?” Visser said.
“Meijer is selling off our furniture and pocketing the money and the money is going God knows where. Isn’t there some way you can force them to transfer the funds to you in trust, to hold until all these issues are resolved?”
His head rolled back, his chin pointing straight at her like the tip of a spear. “Ms. Lee, please don’t make me go over all this again.”
“We have taken legal action —”
“In Sabah, not in the Netherlands,” he said. “And even if you had taken legal action here, I doubt it would interfere with Meijer’s rights as a secured creditor. Please understand, I am not being capricious or nasty, but we have not a scintilla of evidence that anything the least bit underhanded is connected to this bankruptcy file. All I have are your assertions, and they are so far unsupported by any documentation.”
“Read the papers I’ve given you.”
“I will, I promise you I will. But tell me, what is in them that materially supports your claims? Show me now, if you can.”
“There is a pattern. We need to get to the bottom of it,” Ava said.
“That’s terribly weak, wouldn’t you agree?”
“Yes, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t or can’t be true.”
“Well, when you find something substantive, come back and talk to me. For now, and for good reason, I’m treating this as a normal bankruptcy and I’m giving Meijer the benefit of their status as a secured creditor with millions at risk. I will, as my responsibility entails, monitor their progress as they dispose of assets with a view to eventually aiding some of the unsecured creditors.”
“Mr. Visser —”
He stood. “If there’s anything in that file I’ve given you that you specifically want to discuss, then I will stay. Otherwise, I intend to see you to the front door and then go back to my office to register the bankruptcy as officially filed, with no actionable objections from any of the creditors.”
“I have objections.”
“They are noted, and I will make your lawsuit an addendum to the official file, but that is all I am prepared to do. If you do uncover information that you think could change or reverse my decision, I will be pleased to look at it.”
“That might be too late. Our money could have disappeared by then.”
“Technically, Ms. Lee, it isn’t your money.”
He looked down at her from what seemed an impossible height. She stared into his eyes. He didn’t blink or turn away. She couldn’t find a shred of doubt or cynicism in them.
“I’ll be in touch,” she said.
“I sincerely hope you have a valid reason for doing so. Now I need to get back to work.”
He walked Ava to the front door, both of them silent. He opened it for her and then, as he had before, stood aside to let her pass. She took her umbrella from the stand by the door and stepped into the dreary morning. The rain smashed into her before she could get the umbrella open. When she finally did, she turned back towards Visser, but he had already closed the door.
She peered from under the umbrella at the sky. It was like looking up at a concrete ceiling. She checked her watch; it was just past ten thirty. I’ve had enough of Amsterdam and its rain and its bankruptcy trustees, she thought. She had an entire day in front of her; more than enough time to catch a flight to somewhere else.
( 14 )
It had been that awkward period between the end of summer and the beginning of fall when Ava left Toronto five months before. Now the weather wasn’t in any doubt. As the plane approached Pearson International Airport, Ava looked down on ribbons of illuminated black highway surrounded by white. The pilot announced that it was minus eighteen degrees Celsius and snow flurries were in the forecast. Ava had never thought she’d miss the cold and the snow, so she was surprised to find the prospect of winter weather almost comforting. I’m home, she thought.
After her meeting with Patrick Visser she had returned to the Dylan Hotel to figure out where she wanted to go. Uncle had just arrived in Shanghai and was going to be there for at least a few more days, so there was no compelling reason for her to be in Hong Kong. The business in Sabah was in Amanda’s care, and Ava’s appearance there would make it look as if didn’t trust her sister-in-law. She felt no need for a holiday, but she did feel the need for some love, and the best place for that in her world was Toronto.
She booked a business-class seat on the afternoon Air Canada flight, let May Ling know the meeting with Timmerman hadn’t changed anything and that she was headed to Toronto for a few days, and then emailed her flight schedule to her girlfriend, Maria. Seven hours later, just before local dinnertime, Ava walked through Immigration and Customs and into the cavernous Terminal 1 arrivals hall. She looked out into the sea of faces. Maria hadn’t said she’d be there, but since their first meeting — in that same hall — she had always met Ava at the airport.
Ava actually saw the sweater before she saw Maria. It was a Jóhanna av Steinum creation, a hand-knit combination of wild colours and shapes that was in direct contrast to the perpetually damp and gloomy Faroe Islands, where Ava had bought the sweater. She had also bought one for herself, and to her dismay Maria was holding that second sweater above her head. Ava loved it, and it was certainly cold enough to wear it, but she had always been appalled by the tendency of some couples — lesbian or straight — to dress almost identically.
The two women hugged. Maria was five inches taller, and Ava’s head fit snugly into the nook of her neck. Maria thrust the sweater at her.
“Do we have a limo?” Ava asked, knowing that Maria left her car in the garage at even the hint of a little snow.
Maria nodded, “It’s parked just outside.”
“Then I won’t need the sweater,” Ava said, stroking her arm.
Maria stared at the garment in her hand but said nothing.
It was only about twenty steps from the terminal to the idling limo, but the biting north wind cut through Ava’s Adidas jacket and made her catch her breath. She shuddered from the cold as she scampered into the back seat.
The limo driver told them there had been an accident on Highway 427 and asked if they minded if he took the longer route down the Don Valley Parkway southbound and then along the Gardiner Expressway to the city centre, where Ava lived.
“Whatever is quickest,” Ava said.
The two women sat silently for the first ten minutes of the drive, not so much lost in their own thoughts as confused about where to start a conversation about the events of the past week. Finally Maria asked how many people had attended the wedding.
Ava said, “More than you could count.” And then her words flowed. She talked about the morning preparations, the church service, the dinner, and Elizabeth Lee’s dramatic gesture. Ava’s voice caught a little when she explained how they met on the ballroom floor and hugged. When she glanced at Maria, she saw that her eyes were moist.
“How did the night end?” Maria asked.
Ava turned away to look at Lake Ontario, its white-capped winter water crashing against the rocks that lined the shore near Gzowski Park. “At the hospital with Uncle, actually,” Ava said, and then proceeded to describe Sonny’s arrival at the Grand Hyatt and her time at the Queen Elizabeth.
“None of your emails mentioned that.”
“I didn’t want to alarm you. As it happens, he’s all right — at least, as all right as he can be — and now he’s in Shanghai with Sonny for a few days. That’s why I felt I could go to Amsterdam on business and come home to see you.”
“I’ve missed you.”
“I know you have. And I’ve missed you too.”
“I feel guilty sometimes when I wish you were here with me instead of with Uncle.”
“It’s a very . . . complicated time,” Ava said slowly.
Maria squeezed her hand. “Tell me more about the
wedding,” she said.
Ava started to talk about the music and the dancing as the limo left the Gardiner Expressway and worked its way north on University Avenue towards Yorkville. She was describing the young lawyer’s dinner invitations when they turned right onto Cumberland Avenue and stopped in front of her condo.
“Perfect timing,” she said.
Her body was still working on Hong Kong time. Ava slept fitfully and finally pulled herself out of bed at six a.m. Gently closing the bedroom door behind her so as not to wake Maria, she went to the bathroom to brush her teeth and hair and splash cold water on her face.
Maria had her own small house about six kilometres east of Ava’s condo, but when they stayed together, it was nearly always at Ava’s. It was a matter of convenience, Ava said. Everything they needed in terms of shops, grocery stores, and restaurants was within walking distance. Maria didn’t argue, even though her house was only one block north of shop-laden Danforth Avenue; while her neighbourhood wasn’t as upscale as Yorkville, it was equally well provisioned. They each had keys for the other’s home, but Maria was the only one who used both. She had let herself in after receiving Ava’s email about her arrival from Amsterdam. The sinks and the toilet were freshly cleaned, the fridge was full, and a supply of Starbuck’s VIA instant coffee sat next to the hot-water Thermos in the kitchen.
Did she remember to restart delivery of the Globe and Mail? Ava wondered as she opened the condo’s front door. The paper lay at her feet.
She sat in the kitchen at a round table pressed against the window. She closed her eyes, lowered her head, and said a small prayer to Saint Jude to thank him for her safe arrival. When she opened her eyes, she looked out onto Cumberland Avenue and then west to Avenue Road. More snow had fallen during the night, and the snowploughs hadn’t caught up to it. There were few cars on the roads that early in the morning. Ava thought about her Audi A6 in the garage downstairs. The car would remain sheltered until the ploughs and sanders and salters had done their work.
She made herself a coffee and opened the newspaper. It was her morning ritual regardless of where she was, but this time it was different. This wasn’t the South China Morning Post or the International Herald Tribune she was reading; she wasn’t looking out onto Victoria Harbour; and the next person she would see was not Uncle, sitting at the rear of the Kowloon restaurant where she met him for congee, but Maria, emerging from the bedroom. My life is back to normal, she thought, and just as quickly wondered for how long. Read the paper, she told herself. You’re home for now.
Ava made slow work of the newspaper, and it was past eight o’clock when she finally pushed it aside and turned on her computer and cellphone. Nothing from Uncle. There was an email from May Ling saying she was back in Wuhan and that she hoped Ava’s flight had been fine. She asked Ava to call when she could.
Ava called May’s cell number, which rang five times before going to voicemail. “I’m in Toronto and everything is fine. The Amsterdam trustee thinks we’re screwed. He barely looked at the lawsuit. The thing is, he came across as honest and professional, and I think if he had a reason to move against Janssen and Meijer, he would. On the other hand, he isn’t going to bend the rules, even in the slightest. So either we’re going to need that detective I hired or your lawsuit will have to generate some heat. I’m going to spend probably one or two days here before going back to Hong Kong. Call me whenever,” Ava said.
It was probably too early to call her mother in Richmond Hill, but Mimi should be up with her baby by now. She was beginning to call her friend when she heard Maria’s voice. Ava turned and saw her framed in the doorway, slipping her arms into the sleeves of a red silk blouse.
“I have to go to work,” Maria said. “I’ve been lying in bed trying to figure out how to avoid it, but the day is full of meetings, so I can’t.”
Maria was assistant trade commissioner at the Colombian consulate in Toronto. It was usually a job that wasn’t inflexible when it came to getting out of the office.
“There’s no way you can meet me for lunch?” Ava asked.
“We have a delegation from Bogotá that includes the deputy minister of trade and economic development. We’re scheduled from morning to late afternoon. Besides, I need to make a good impression.”
“Well, I would like to see Mimi, and my mother will be upset if I don’t see her as well. If it all works out I can have lunch with one of them and perhaps see the other in the afternoon. Then you and I can have dinner together. By tonight I should know if I can stay another day.”
“Oh, I hope you can,” Maria said, then turned and went back into the bedroom.
Ava picked up the phone and this time completed dialling Mimi’s number. Her phone also went to voicemail, but the greeting was different from the last time Ava had encountered it. “You have reached Mimi, Derek, and Amber. We can’t come to the phone right now. If you leave a message we’ll get back to you as soon possible.”
Ava smiled. Mimi and Derek were only recently married, and the baby had arrived three months after the wedding. Derek was Chinese, a bak mei expert like her, and she had used him as backup on some particularly dangerous jobs. Mimi was German Canadian, a tall blonde with a terrific sense of humour. They were both her friends but hadn’t known each other until Ava quite accidently brought them together about a year ago. Ava hadn’t been happy at first. She didn’t think the relationship would work and had worried about the fallout. She had also been annoyed initially that she had lost the use of Derek’s martial arts skills, since there was no way she could ask him to assist her — and put himself at risk — now that he and Mimi were married and parents. The annoyance had passed quickly, and now her only concern was for their happiness and for her godchild’s health.
“This is Ava. I’m in Toronto for a few days. I’d love to see all three of you. Call me when you can.”
She hung up and contemplated the phone. In all likelihood her mother would have been up late playing mah-jong. What the hell, Ava thought. If she’s really tired she probably won’t even hear the phone.
“Wei,” the familiar voice said.
“Mummy, it’s Ava.”
“Where are you?”
“I’m in Toronto. I flew in last night.”
“What a nice surprise,” she said.
“I’m just as surprised — that you answered the phone so early in the morning.”
“I was in bed by ten. I have a mah-jong game with Auntie Kimmie and Auntie Grace that begins late this afternoon. I needed my rest.”
Ava knew the aunties well, and knew that any game with them would be for large stakes and had the potential to run all night. “Does that mean you’re free for dim sum?”
“I am.”
“Lucky Season at twelve?”
“Perfect,” Jennie Lee said, and then paused. “Ava, forgive me, I should have asked . . . Are you home because something has happened to Uncle?”
“Nothing new to report on that front, Mummy. How about we get caught up at lunch?”
“Okay, see you then.”
Maria walked into the kitchen as Ava put down the phone. She was now fully dressed and made up, and Ava’s heart skipped a beat when she looked at her. Maria was five foot eight and slim, with a generous bust and a way of walking that made it seem her feet weren’t actually touching the ground.
“You look glorious,” Ava said.
Maria smiled. “Is your day set?”
“I had no luck getting Mimi, but I have my mother for dim sum.”
Maria came to her side and wrapped her arms around Ava’s shoulders. “That should leave you some time to relax.”
“That’s all I’ve been doing for months.”
“Go for a run.”
Ava waved at the window. “Have you looked outside?”
“It’s stopped snowing.”
Ava looked out onto the st
reet. The weather did seem to have improved, and she could see people walking about with open coats. But the sidewalks were still covered in pools of slush, and she knew that underneath would be patches of ice. “Maybe I’ll go see Grandmaster Tang.”
“Say hello for me,” Maria said. She had met him only once but, like Ava’s mother, she regarded every associate and friend of Ava’s as her own.
“Call me when you know when you’re coming home,” Ava said.
“I will,” Maria said and then bent over to kiss her, her tongue flirting with Ava’s.
“Don’t go too far or I’ll drag you back to bed,” Ava said.
Maria laughed and pulled back. “Don’t worry, I’m going. Now wish me good luck. If I do well today, chances are very good that my appointment will be extended.”
Ava watched her leave, made herself another coffee, and then headed for the bathroom to shower and change. The thought of seeing her bak mai instructor had come to her unexpectedly. Now that it had, it seemed almost perfect.
Ava had started training in martial arts when she was a girl and had progressed very quickly. She had speed, flexibility, imagination, a desire to learn, and the willingness to practise hard. After several years at a school in Richmond Hill, her instructor asked if she had ever heard of bak mei. She hadn’t. He explained that it was one of the oldest martial arts, almost a secret form, and that it was always taught one-on-one, father to son, mentor to student. He told her she was the only one of his students he thought capable of learning it and asked if she was willing to try. She said she was and asked when they could start. He had smiled. “I can’t teach you. You would have to go downtown to see Grandmaster Tang. I’ve already spoken to him about you, and he’s prepared to take you on as a student if you pass the assessment test.”
Grandmaster Tang worked from a small two-storey brick house on a side street that ran west from Avenue Road, no more than a ten-minute walk from where Ava now lived. There were no notices or signs on the house. The Grandmaster didn’t need to advertise and he didn’t take walk-in business. If you were serious about martial arts in Toronto, you knew where to find him.