The Two Sisters of Borneo

by Ian Hamilton

  “I’m in Hong Kong. I got your messages. Call me. If I don’t hear from you, I’ll see you in three or four hours,” Ava said.

  She leaned against a wall, out of the path of the early-morning airport crush. She decided to make her other calls from the quiet of Cathay Pacific’s Wing Lounge. It took twenty minutes to clear the customs and immigration checkpoint for in-transit passengers and to reach the entrance to the Wing, one of Cathay’s business-class lounges. She still had a one-hour wait before the Air Asia flight was scheduled to leave.

  She laid claim to a Balzac armchair and then went to the coffee bar and ordered a double espresso. She drank half of it on the way back to her seat.

  She called Uncle first. His phone rang three times; she was about to curse the fourth ring and the inevitable voicemail prompt when she heard the familiar “Wei.”

  “It’s Ava.”

  “Where are you?”

  “Hong Kong.”

  “So soon?”

  “Where are you?”

  “Still in Shanghai.”

  “How are you feeling?”

  “I am well enough. I think we will be here for one more day at least, maybe even two. You did not have to rush back.”

  “I didn’t come back for you,” she said, and then instantly felt a rush of shame when she realized how her words must have sounded. “Oh, but that’s not what I meant, not what I meant at all.”

  “I would never think any different, so do not be so concerned about my feelings. But you — you sounded distressed when you left me that message, and now again you seem upset. Something else has happened?”

  “We have a problem in Kota Kinabalu, in Borneo — May and I — the same one that put me on the plane to Amsterdam. Except this time Amanda has been caught up in it.”

  “How?”

  “She and one of the young women we partner with in Borneo were attacked in the parking lot of a restaurant. They were beaten with baseball bats.”

  “Robbed? Molested?”

  “No, just attacked. We think it was planned, premeditated.”

  “Why?”

  “It’s the money issue that Changxing alluded to, but it’s too complicated to explain over the phone.”

  “Then you know who did it?”

  “Well, we think we know who was behind it, but we have no proof. I was hoping you could help me answer that question,” Ava said. “I think that the men who attacked them were hired to do the job, and you don’t just find men like that on the street, especially on short notice. So if I wanted to hire someone in Kota Kinabalu, who would I talk to?”

  “I do not know.”

  “But you can find out?”

  “Perhaps.”

  “All I need is a starting point. If not the exact person, then the name of someone who can at least point me in the right direction.”

  “I will speak with some people. I will get you a name.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Ava, I find that I have been able to manage quite well here, and my hosts have been extremely supportive. Sonny has not been absolutely necessary —”

  She knew what he was going to say next. “I want Sonny to stay in Shanghai with you,” she interrupted. “It would be more of a worry for me knowing that you were alone.”

  “You might need help.”

  “If I do, I’ll let you know. Right now I just want to get there, get things resolved, and get back to Hong Kong by the time you do.”

  She heard him sigh and felt the worry in it. She almost wished she hadn’t called him. The last thing he needed was concerns about her to add to his load.

  “Sonny is only a few hours away if you require him,” he said.

  “I know.”

  He paused. She thought he was going to persist about Sonny, but instead he said, “I will try to get your information before you leave Hong Kong. Leave your phone on.”

  Ava laid her head against the back of the chair and closed her eyes. Speaking to Uncle had helped calm her, as it always had in the past. She could remember time after time, when jobs had gone bad, when she was beginning to feel things slipping away, when a single phone call to him was enough to change her perspective, to make her feel that maybe things would work out if they just stayed the course. His belief in her abilities was absolute, to the point of being unrealistic. The thing was, she couldn’t help but be buoyed by it.

  She sat up, finished her espresso, and picked up her phone again. It was evening in Toronto and Maria should be home.

  “Hi, sweetheart,” Maria said.

  “Hi. I just landed in Hong Kong. I’m sorry again that I had to leave in such a rush.”

  “Me too, and I’m sorry I was tied up in those damn meetings. This thing, wherever you have to go, it sounds serious.”

  “A little bit.”

  “I thought those days were behind you. I thought I didn’t have to worry every time you left.”

  “Maria, this is a business problem, not much more than that. Amanda got caught up in something stupid. I’ll deal with it, and then I’m coming back to Hong Kong and Uncle. I would have ended up in Hong Kong under any circumstance.”

  “I know, but —”

  “But nothing. I will deal with the problem and then come back to Hong Kong as I would have done.”

  Maria was quiet. Ava could almost hear her pouting.

  “Now I need to go,” Ava said gently. “I want to shower and change before getting my next flight. I’ll email you with my hotel information once I know what it is.”

  She found an empty stall in the women’s washroom and took a quick shower. Then she slipped into a pair of black slacks and white shirt. As she walked back into the lounge she had only twenty minutes to spare before her flight. She left and headed for the gate. Her phone rang just as she reached it; Uncle’s cell number lit the screen.

  “That was fast,” she said.

  “His name is Wan,” Uncle said. “He runs KK, according to my sources.”

  “Is he triad?”

  “It is not so easy to characterize. He has an affiliation with 14K, but my sources emphasize that it is an affiliation only. He is not officially 14K.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “He works with them on a deal-to-deal basis.”

  “But there is a relationship?”

  “Of course. What is more difficult is determining how it is valued.”

  “By them?”

  “No, by him.”

  “He is that independent?”

  “None of us are, but KK is not exactly the centre of attention for anyone not living there.”

  “Still —”

  “Here is his phone number. They told me not to expect him to answer and not to expect him to return messages unless they are from someone he knows. They said that he conducts much of his business from the Fa Pang restaurant downtown. He is there most nights.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Ava, it is a big gang.”

  “How big can it be in a place like that?”

  “I am told it has about thirty members in Kota, but it casts its shadow far wider than the city and can pull in other men as needed.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “I was told that in Borneo there are two Malaysian provinces, each with its own operations. In Sabah, which is where Kota is, Wan is the boss. In the other province, Sarawak, things are controlled by a guy named Yeung. Evidently they have some kind of territorial agreement and a loose working relationship. They are both Hakka, though Wan has Sichuan roots and Yeung’s family is from Fujian.”

  “I didn’t realize the Chinese presence was so strong there.”

  “Sabah is at least fifty percent Chinese origin, and my source said you can get by there just speaking Mandarin.”

  “That should make do
ing business that much easier,” Ava said.

  “I am told he can be a difficult man.”

  “And who doesn’t have that capacity?”

  “No, I am told that it is his nature to be difficult. You should expect that.”

  “I’ll manage.”

  “Ava, it worries me. In fact, from everything I have heard, I think you should accept my offer to send Sonny.”

  The gate was almost empty, the last few stragglers getting their passports and boarding passes checked. “Uncle, let me meet with this Wan before you do anything. Even a difficult man can be reasonable if he’s offered the right incentives. Let me see if I can find a way to accommodate him and get what I want.”

  “I cannot help but feel uncomfortable.”

  “Uncle, I promise I’ll be careful. And I promise if I need help I won’t hesitate to ask for it. Now I need to board the plane. I’ll be in touch.”

  ( 19 )

  The plane was only half full, and only Ava and what looked like a family of five occupied business class. She pushed back her seat as soon as they reached cruising altitude and closed her eyes to try to catch up on the sleep she had lost on the flight to Hong Kong. May’s news about Amanda had lifted a weight from her, and the thought of having to construct a deal with the man named Wan wasn’t any cause for worry. How many deals had she done? How many men had she outmanoeuvred? She was just drifting off when she heard the family begin to talk excitedly about Borneo.

  They were on a two-week vacation from Australia. The first week had been spent in Bali — a more traditional Australian vacation choice. Now they were looking forward to a less crowded, more tranquil destination. Sabah was evidently ecotourist friendly. They had planned trips into the rainforest to see orangutans and proboscis monkeys, and to go whitewater rafting. The mother was less enthusiastic about climbing Mount Kinabalu. It was a two-day venture, with a stopover at a lodge during the ascent. The mountain was evidently the tallest in Southeast Asia, more than four thousand metres, but it was a relatively easy trek and didn’t require any mountain-climbing experience or equipment. The father was trying to convince his wife that the view of the sunset and sunrise from the peak would be worth the effort. Back and forth they went, the conversation penetrating Ava’s earplugs. By the time the plane landed, Ava had gotten no sleep but now knew more about the tourist attractions of Sabah than those of Toronto.

  She glided through Immigration and walked into an arrivals hall that was virtually deserted. May Ling was standing directly in front of the exit door. Ava hadn’t taken more than five steps when she found herself wrapped in her friend’s arms. She could feel the tension in May’s body. When they separated, Ava looked into her face and saw that it was drawn, her skin almost translucent, with tiny blue veins visible below her eyes.

  “You look exhausted,” Ava said.

  “This is my third trip to the airport today. My two people from Wuhan arrived early this morning and I had to take them to the offices and get them settled. Then I met your brother and Jack at the hospital, followed them here, and waited until Amanda was transferred from the ambulance to the plane. Then I went back to the hospital to sit with Chi-Tze for a while. It’s been a brutal twenty-four hours.”

  “I’m sorry I couldn’t get here any faster. That’s one thing I’ve always hated about the trip from Toronto to anywhere in Asia. Your entire world could collapse while you’re in mid-air and there wouldn’t be a damn thing you could do about it.”

  “Well, you’re here now, thank God.”

  They began to walk side by side towards the exit, May Ling’s arm hooked tightly through Ava’s. The instant they left the terminal, Ava felt the heat. It almost startled her. After months of Hong Kong winter weather and the cold and damp of Amsterdam and Toronto, she had forgotten what tropical heat felt like. It had to be at least thirty degrees, she guessed, and the air was heavy with humidity. She felt sweat beading on her brow, and by the time they reached a black Mercedes S-Class idling by the curb, it had begun to trickle into her eyes.

  A driver dressed in black slacks and a white shirt stood by the Mercedes’ open back door. Ava dropped her bag on the curb and climbed in. The air conditioning was on full blast. She shivered. The worst colds she’d had in her life had come from moving back and forth between outside heat and the air conditioning indoors.

  “I leased the car, with the driver, for the week,” May said as she slid in beside her. “He can drive everyone back and forth from the hospital, and the Wuhan staff to the office. I have him on twenty-four-hour call. He speaks Mandarin,” she added. “It’s only a ten-minute drive to the hotel. I thought we’d go there first and get you checked in.”

  “Could you ask him to turn down the air con a bit?” Ava said. “That’s fine. Now tell me, how was Amanda?”

  “If it had been up to the doctors she would never have travelled. She’s still lapsing in and out of consciousness. But Michael and Jack were insistent and the doctors gave in. The air ambulance staff didn’t seem that concerned about taking her, so that eased my worries. But Ava, you should see her — she’s not the Amanda we know.”

  “I don’t want a description.”

  “No . . . I understand.”

  “How about her other injuries?”

  “She has two broken ribs and a fracture in her shin bone.”

  “Those fuckers.”

  “Your brother’s words exactly.”

  The car pulled away from the curb. When the plane had landed, Ava had noticed that the airport faced the South China Sea coastline; now she saw that the other side was connected directly to the city.

  “When did he and Jack arrive?”

  “Late yesterday afternoon.”

  “Did they stay at the hotel?”

  “No, they bunked at the hospital.”

  “How were they?”

  “Very emotional. I’m not used to seeing men cry.”

  “I should call Michael.”

  “He asked that we don’t. He said he would call us the moment he had any news.”

  Ava turned her head and looked out the window at the passing city. She had seen Michael distressed before and could imagine just how visible his reaction had been to his wife’s suffering. She did not want to pursue a discussion about her brother’s fragility. “That mosque is magnificent,” she said, pointing to a brown-gold building with four minarets rising high in the sky, its bright blue dome glistening under the sun.

  “That’s the City Mosque. The dome is made of enamel,” May said. “I’ve been past this part of KK so often I could almost be a tour guide. The driver must be tired of my questions.”

  “The hospital is close?”

  “Yes, it’s also right in the middle of the city, only a five-minute drive from the hotel. We’ll go there to see Chi-Tze after you check in. Then we’ll head to the office and see how my people — Peter and Grace — are doing. I also have the lawyer on standby in case we need him.”

  Ava was still looking out the window. The South China Sea was on their left and they were driving parallel to it. On their right was a mountain range that seemed to encircle and close in on the entire city. Between the sea and the mountains was a landscape awash in cranes. “Lots of construction.”

  “The place is booming. It’s evidently one of the fastest-growing cities in Malaysia.”

  “What’s the population?”

  “About a million people, and growing.”

  “None of the buildings seem very tall, though, do they.”

  “Most of this is reclaimed land and there are height restrictions,” May Ling said. “The mountainside is too steep for construction, so flat land is at a premium. That makes the city very compact and easy to get around in. Our hotel is almost right on the harbour, along with the main shopping and restaurant area, and anywhere else we need to get to is minutes away, more or less.”

>   “I see,” Ava said.

  “And there’s the hotel,” May said.

  Like the rest of central Kota Kinabalu, the Méridien was in a low-rise building, but it had enough land to accommodate a sweeping circular driveway. When the driver pulled up at the entrance, a doorman and two bellhops leapt towards the car.

  “I’ve been tipping well,” May said.

  Ten minutes later they were back in the car, and five minutes after that they were walking through the front doors of Queen Elizabeth General Hospital.

  Ava was never comfortable in hospitals. Her longest stay had been a single day in a private clinic in Macau, where the bullet had been removed from her leg. Apart from that, there had only been visits to emergency wards for treatment of various second-party-inflicted injuries. Those short exposures had been enough to instil a permanent image of black-and-white tile floors, green walls, acoustic-panelled ceilings, rows of wheelchairs, gurneys in hallways, and stale, heavy air redolent with disinfectant.

  Uncle had been in and out of the Queen Elizabeth in Hong Kong over the past three months, sometimes for several days but most often for a check-up. She had accompanied him on every trip, and it didn’t matter if he was there overnight or just in and out — every single time she stepped through the doors and her feet touched the tiles, a feeling of unease cloaked her. This is where people come to die, she always thought. She knew that was irrational. Logic said it was where people came to heal. But there was something about the smell, about the nurses with their rubber-soled shoes, about the open doors exposing visitors at the bedsides of loved ones, holding their hands as they whispered to them, that rattled Ava’s sense of order. Hospitals were not a world she knew, or ever wanted to know.

  “Chi-Tze is on the fourth floor. We’re paying for a private room,” May Ling said as they entered the main lobby.

  The area was thick with people. Two long lines had formed at the reception desk, and every chair around the perimeter was occupied. They walked to a bank of elevators and joined a throng that included two wheelchairs and a gurney. The elderly woman on the gurney was covered to the chin by a blanket. She moaned, her eyes closed, her head rocking from side to side. The elevator door opened and the gurney was rolled in, followed by the wheelchairs.