The Scottish Banker of Surabaya

by Ian Hamilton

  “And me,” Ava said.

  “Two beers and a bottle of wine then, and if you don’t mind, I’d like to order our food at the same time. I’m starving.”

  “Order away,” Cameron said.

  John turned to Ava. “Do you have any preferences?”

  “I eat everything. Please order for the table and don’t worry about me.”

  He signalled for the waiter. Masterson spoke to him in Indonesian, the man nodding his head as his pencil scribbled away.

  Fay whispered to Ava, “Blue crabs, cleaned, cut in half, and cooked with shallots, chilis, and tamarind. Shrimp steamed with curry in banana leaves. A whole steamed lobster with ginger and garlic. A fish steamed in rice wine with seaweed and cilantro. And nasi goring. John, why nasi goring?”

  “What’s more Indonesian?”

  “No, it doesn’t fit. Just get plain steamed rice.”

  He spoke to the waiter and Ava saw the nasi goring entry get scratched.

  “So your name is Ava Lee, I understand,” Cameron said.

  “Yes, it is, Mr. Cameron.”

  “Andy.”

  “Ava.”

  “Andy and Ava . . . Has a nice ring to it,” he said, the grin returning.

  “Thank you for taking the time to come tonight. After your remark about the bank and beer, I can’t help but think I’m imposing.”

  “Just a little, and besides, we don’t have to talk about banking.”

  “That’s why I’m in Surabaya.”

  “And why my little bank?”

  “I got your name from my client in Hong Kong. I’m just following through.”

  “You’re an accountant, John tells me.”

  “I am.”

  “From where? Your accent isn’t like any I’ve heard from Hong Kong.”

  “I’m Canadian-raised.”

  “Ah, that must be the John connection.”

  “Exactly,” Masterson said.

  “Who’s your Hong Kong client?” Cameron asked Ava.

  “Dynamic Accounting.”

  “No, I mean the investor John mentioned who was interested in Bali.”

  “I’m afraid I’m not at liberty to disclose that right now.”

  “Then what do you want from me?”

  “I was given the names of several banks by the accounting firm in Hong Kong. They like to use local financing wherever possible, and your bank is a candidate.”

  “And if we have no interest?”

  Ava shrugged. “No matter. We’ll find someone.”

  “Don’t throw us overboard so quickly,” Cameron said.

  “I feel like I’m the one being thrown,” said Ava.

  “No, no, no, we’ll talk, we’ll talk,” Cameron said. “Just not on an empty stomach.”

  The drinks were brought by the waiter and an assistant. They seemed awfully eager to please either Masterson or Cameron, as they poured the beers first and then passed the bottle of wine to Ava.

  “Let my wife try it,” Masterson said.

  “Just open it and pour,” Fay said.

  When four glasses were full, Masterson raised his and said, “Salut.”

  Cameron leaned towards Ava, tapped his glass against hers, and said, “To new friends.”

  God help me, she thought. She began to speak, but the first word was still on her tongue when Masterson said to Fay, “What did you girls get up to today?”

  It took Fay five minutes to get them to the Ampel Mosque, and by then the plate of white rice was on the table and the first of the seafood dishes came rolling out. The men plunged into dinner, scarcely paying attention to Fay’s continuing narrative. Ava knew that whatever questions she had were best left for later.

  The two men drank three beers during the meal. Fay and Ava hadn’t finished their bottle of wine when the last dish was cleared.

  “We have to have dessert,” Masterson said. “Fried bananas and ice cream all around.”

  “Why not?” Cameron said.

  Ava sat back in her chair. “Andy, do you mind if I ask you a few questions?”

  “Of course not,” he said, starting on another beer.

  “I’m curious. How did a Scot find his way to Indonesia?”

  “Did you ask John how a Canadian did?”

  “Yes.”

  “And that’s true,” Masterson said.

  Cameron smiled. “Nosy, is she?”

  “Curious,” Ava repeated.

  “Well, it’s a simple enough story,” Cameron said. “I was working for a Scottish bank in Rome and Bank Linno came calling.”

  “How did they find you?”

  “I like to think I had developed a reputation. As a breed, Scottish bankers are maybe the best in the world, and I worked harder than most. I had that Rome office humming. Linno wasn’t the first offer I had from a foreign bank, you know.”

  “But you accepted their offer.”

  “They offered me more money than anyone else, and a chance to be the boss.”

  It was close to drunken bravado, except that Cameron couldn’t seem to maintain eye contact with her. Ava felt the first flutter of doubt.

  “Lucky you. Lucky them.”

  “No regrets from my side, and none from theirs, I can tell you.”

  “Quite a move, though, from a Scottish bank with offices in Rome to a provincial bank in Indonesia.”

  “What do you mean?” he shot back.

  “In some eyes it could be seen as moving down market.”

  “Let me tell you something, girlie,” he said. “It’s all about opportunity. I was given the chance to grow this bank, and that’s what I’ve done. It’s twenty times the size it was in terms of assets and deposits since I took over, and it’s not just an East Java bank anymore. So you can tell your client in Hong Kong that if he decides to do business with us, he’ll be dealing with a first-rate organization.”

  “I didn’t mean to cause any offence,” Ava said.

  “None taken,” he said, his tone belying his words.

  “So your bank does business outside East Java?”

  “Why does that matter if your client wants to do business here?”

  “I guess it doesn’t,” she said, wondering why he was so defensive.

  “Good.”

  Ava and Fay both passed on the bananas and ice cream. Fay wrapped her arm around John’s neck, kissing him on the ear, and watched him eat his share. Ava kept her eyes on Cameron. He was working hard at appearing cool. There is something there, she thought. Maybe nothing important, but there is something.

  “That was a great meal,” Ava said as the bill arrived and was quickly picked up by Masterson.

  Cameron finished his fourth beer and burped. “Excuse me . . . Manners,” he said, and then grinned the same cocky grin she’d seen when he first walked into the restaurant. “Ms. Lee, why don’t I walk you back to your hotel? We can talk banking on the way and I can buy you a nightcap.”

  “Sure,” she said, ignoring the panicked look from Fay.

  “I can drive you,” Masterson said.

  “No, I’d rather walk,” Ava said.

  They left the restaurant together, Masterson and Fay peeling off right to the car park, Cameron leading Ava to the left.

  Just before they exited the mall, Cameron stopped. “Look, I have a toilet kit at my office and it’s only a few hundred yards from here. If you want I can go get it.”

  “I’m sorry?” Ava said, not quite sure she had heard him properly.

  “I’ll spend the night at the Majapahit if you want. Must get lonely for a girl like you, Friday night in a strange city.”

  “I don’t get that kind of lonely,” Ava said.

  “I don’t make that kind of offer to many girls,” Cameron said, smiling at her discomfort.

  “Am I to take that as a compliment?”

  “Well, I don’t do ugly.”

  “And I don’t do with someone I hardly know. I’m an old-fashioned girl who likes to take her time and ease into things, so if
you would rather head on home instead of walking me back to the hotel I’ll understand.”

  “Hell no, I’ll walk you. And I’ll still buy you that nightcap while we talk about your client.”

  “And your bank.”

  “Of course.”

  As they walked she kept waiting for him to say something else or try something else, but he was quiet and polite, even keeping a physical distance between them. His directness had surprised her, even with Fay’s warning in mind. Now, she hoped, the moves were over and they could actually talk business.

  The hotel lounge was quiet. They found a corner table with no one within hearing distance. “I’m switching to Scotch,” he said.

  “I’ll stay with wine,” said Ava.

  “Pak Andy, Ibu Ava,” the waiter said.

  “I’ll have Glenlivet, neat.”

  “The Meursault,” Ava said.

  “Your client, what is he actually looking to do here?” Cameron asked when they were alone.

  Ava took the business card from the Hong Kong accounting firm and placed it on the table in front of him. “He has an interest in real estate either directly or indirectly attached to the tourist trade. He owns several resorts in Thailand and another in the Philippines, and he has interests in various adjacent properties such as shopping centres, restaurants, and the like.”

  Cameron pursed his lips and frowned. “Ava, do you know — and the client should know — that foreigners can’t own land here?”

  Shit, she thought, and then started backpedalling. “Of course, it’s the same in Thailand. There he took on some Thai partners and then papered himself into total control and effective ownership through the back door.”

  “He won’t find it as easy to do that here.”

  “Surely it’s nothing a good lawyer can’t handle?”

  Cameron looked dubious, and then his face lit up as their drinks arrived. “Cheers,” he said, extending his glass.

  “Cheers,” Ava said, tapping it with hers.

  “Lawyer or not, it can be tricky,” said Cameron.

  Ava was glad to hear him sticking to the business discussion. “I see from the briefing notes my client gave us that your bank is owned by a local law firm.”

  “Our ownership is a private matter,” he said sharply.

  “Sorry, I wasn’t prying,” Ava said. “I just thought that if my client needed a law firm yours might fit the bill.”

  “Not a good idea. Don’t like to mix things about like that. If he needs a lawyer, talk to John Masterson.”

  There was that harsh edge to his voice again. Back off or prod? Ava wondered. “That’s a good suggestion, thank you. Now tell me, Andy, earlier at dinner you didn’t want to talk about your non–East Java banking activity. Was there any particular reason for that?”

  He swilled back his Scotch and held the empty glass in the air. “Another,” he shouted. She waited for him to answer. He said, “You want another wine?”

  “Sure, I can handle one more, but first I need to use the ladies’ room.”

  “Right over there,” he said, pointing to the door behind the bar.

  She peed, washed her hands twice, and then looked in the mirror. Another ten minutes with the Scotsman and that’s it, she thought and then turned and went back to the lounge.

  The glass she had left on the table had been just under half full. Now it was brimming. “I had him top it up,” Cameron said. “No point wasting.”

  “That’s sensible,” she said.

  “Scottish stereotype, but true all the same.”

  “Speaking of which, what makes you Scots such good bankers?”

  “We don’t trust anyone,” he said without hesitation.

  “Trust?”

  “Everyone lies — about why they need money, about their net worth, about their collateral. It never fucking ends. My old boss at Stirling used what he called the five-check system, and all he meant was check every fucking thing five times.”

  Ava noticed that his second Scotch was already finished, and that his language was deteriorating in proportion to his intake. “I’ll give you all the information you need. You can check ten times and it will still stand up.”

  Cameron went silent, and Ava wondered if he was going to argue. Then he said, “My turn. I need to use the loo now.”

  Ava sipped her wine and replayed the evening in her mind. So far it had been almost a complete dud. Cameron had no interest in discussing the workings of his bank. That by itself was a bit unusual. What was there to hide? Maybe nothing; maybe it was nothing more than a private bank retaining its privacy. What bothered her more was his attitude every time she ventured into that area. All he had to say was, Sorry, we’re private. Instead he seemed nettled. One more go, she said to herself, and then I’m heading upstairs.

  She kept checking her watch and began to worry when more than fifteen minutes had passed. Five more minutes and I’m sending the waiter into the men’s bathroom, she thought.

  As if on cue, Cameron walked back into the lounge, a bounce in his step. He was snapping the fingers of his right hand, and even from a distance she could see the gleam in his eyes.

  She finished her wine. “Andy, you okay?” she asked.

  “Dandy, just dandy.”

  She sat back in the chair, her face flushed. No more wine for you, girl, she thought.

  Cameron stood in front of her. The only problem was that she could see two of him. Jet lag and wine were a bad combination, she knew, and now she was paying the price. She steadied herself and tried to get to her feet. And didn’t make it.

  ( 21 )

  When she woke, she was flooded by contradictions.

  Light was streaming in through open windows. When hadn’t she closed the curtains or shutters?

  She was naked.

  Her head felt heavy, jumbled.

  And then there was the discomfort between her legs.

  Before she could sort things out, her eyelids became too heavy and she blacked out.

  The next time Ava woke, she shivered. What was that light? Why was she naked? She turned to look at the bedside clock. It read 8:04.

  She started to rise and then felt the strangeness between her legs. She settled back into the bed.

  She lay there for minutes, trying to remember the events of the night before. All she could recall was drinking wine with Andy Cameron in the lounge downstairs.

  She put her hand on her leg and felt something scabby on her thigh. When she looked down, she saw the same kind of caked smear across her chest, between her breasts.

  Ava got up and went to the bathroom and took a robe from the hook on the door. She put it on and went back to the bed. She wanted a doctor.

  The hotel operator wasn’t helpful at first, but by the time Ava had repeated her request for a third time, the number was obtained and the call was made.

  “Hello?” a sleepy voice said.

  “Is this Vivian Ho?” Ava asked.

  “Yes. Who is this?”

  “My name is Ava Lee. I’m a friend of Fay and John. I’m visiting from Canada and I’ve had an accident. Could you please come to my hotel to help me?”

  “I don’t know you.”

  “Of course you don’t. I could ask you to call Fay, but it would cause me no end of humiliation. Please. I’m at the Majahapit, room 313.”

  “This is most unusual.”

  “So is what I think happened to me.”

  “What did you say your name is?”

  “Ava Lee.”

  “And what do you think happened?”

  Ava closed her eyes and heard herself struggling for breath. “I think I was raped.”

  “Have you called the police?”

  “No.”

  “I think —”

  “You’re the only person I have called and the only person I will call. So please, just come here.”

  “I’m about twenty minutes away,” she said, her voice now fully alert.

  “Thank you.”

&nb
sp; “But I should stop at my office on the way and pick up some things.”

  “Things?”

  “Would you take a morning-after pill as a precaution against possible pregnancy?”

  “Of course, and how about tests for sexually transmitted infections.”

  “It’s too soon. The window for the bacterial type is three days, but for type-specific viruses such as AIDS, herpes, and hepatitis it’s at least two weeks. I should take a blood sample to establish a baseline for you, but in terms of knowing anything definite, I’m afraid you’ll have to wait.”

  “I think I was drugged. Can you at least check on that?”

  “Yes, I’ll take a urine sample.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Now, Ms. Lee, I think it’s still advisable to call the police.”

  “No.”

  “I think —”

  “No.”

  Vivian Ho paused and then said, “With the stop, I should be there in about half an hour to forty minutes.”

  “Thank you.”

  “You said room 313?”

  “Yes, come right up.”

  Ava sat down by the window looking out on the gardens. She knew there were trees and shrubs and flowers, but they were a blur. Nothing registered. Nothing mattered.

  She heard the phone before she heard the door. “Ms. Lee, Dr. Ho is at your door. She says she’s been knocking for a few minutes.”

  Ava got up and opened the door. She saw a slightly older and more conservative version of Fay. Vivian Ho was the same height and also thin, but with hair that hung down to her shoulders and not a trace of makeup.

  “Thank you so much for coming,” she said. “I didn’t hear you at the door.”

  “Are you all right?”

  “No, I don’t think I am,” Ava said, turning away and walking into the room. “Aside from the physical discomfort, my head keeps wandering off.”

  “I need to examine you.”

  “I know,” Ava said.

  “Have you done anything?”

  “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “Have you washed? Have you taken any pills?”

  “No.”

  “Then, as awkward as this is, please take off your bathrobe and lie on the bed.”

  Ava closed her eyes, slipped the bathrobe from her shoulders, and lay on her back.

  “You have dried semen on your thighs and between your breasts. There’s some bruising around your vagina, and it seems . . . it seems as if someone was very rough. I would guess that you were penetrated repeatedly. Ms. Lee, how did this happen?”