Ian Hamilton: The disciple of Las Vegas

“Earlier you mentioned that Ordonez was restraining himself when he was talking to you. I didn’t think you knew him.”

“Chang introduced us once, years ago, when I was at the top of my heap and he was scaling his. It was a passing encounter that seems more important to him than it is to me. I did not even remember the meeting until he mentioned it.”

Ava was now standing by the kitchen window. The falling rain was beginning to freeze onto it. She watched a car skid into the intersection below and slide into an SUV. She hated this kind of weather. At least Manila would be warm. “Can you buy us an extra day or two?” she asked.

Uncle hesitated. She knew he didn’t want to push her too hard. “I would like to get there as soon as possible. But if you need to spend more time in Toronto, then I will deal with Chang Wang and Ordonez as best as I can.”

“Will they walk away from the deal if we delay?”

“I really don’t know.”

“Well, I guess that’s something we shouldn’t risk,” Ava said.

“No, we should not. Their impatience could get the better of them.”

She did a quick calculation. “If I catch the Cathay Pacific flight late tonight, I can be in Hong Kong the day after tomorrow, early morning, your time. That at least will give me all of today to get caught up here, and I’ll have a sixteen-hour flight I can sleep through.”

“Good. We can leave for Manila the morning you arrive. I will have those flights booked. We can meet in the Wing lounge,” Uncle said. “I will let Chang Wang know right away that we are coming. Ordonez’s office is near the Ayala Centre in Makati City. The Peninsula Hotel is nearby. I will have them book us rooms.”

“Okay, I’ll call you when things are confirmed on this end.”

“Fine. And Ava, I think this is the right thing for us to do.”

She shrugged. “Ordonez is a big man and it’s a lot of money.”

“That does not mean we cannot still say no,” Uncle said. “We will go and talk to them, and then you and I can discuss what we want to do. I have to tell you, I have a feeling that it will be worth it in the end.”

“Yes, Uncle.”

“Now I have to call Chang,” he said.

As she hung up the phone, Ava tried to remember if she’d heard Uncle mention Chang’s name before, and came up blank. That wasn’t unusual. He had a network of friends and associates that spanned Asia, though his closest contacts were those who shared those long, deep Wuhan roots.

Is Ordonez from Wuhan as well? she wondered. She knew he was Chinese born, but nothing more specific than that. She’d find out soon enough, but her curiosity was far more aroused by the kind of problem a man as rich and powerful as Tommy Ordonez couldn’t handle himself.

The morning sun glistened on the South China Sea as the plane descended onto the man-made island that was Hong Kong’s airport.

She found Uncle at the rear of the Wing lounge, reclining in a Balzac armchair. He wasn’t any taller than Ava and was nearly as lean. From a distance he looked almost like a child swallowed up in the chair. He was more than seventy, she knew, but his skin was still smooth, with only the faintest traces of lines around his eyes and on his forehead. His close-cropped black hair was streaked with just a touch of grey. Uncle was dressed as usual in a simple black suit and a crisp white shirt buttoned to the collar. His monochromatic style was part convenience, part camouflage. It made him easy to overlook — just an elegantly dressed old man, except to those who knew.

Uncle had been Ava’s partner and mentor for more than ten years. They recovered bad debts for a living. Ava was a forensic accountant with degrees from York University, in Toronto, and Babson College, just outside of Boston. Before joining forces with Uncle, Ava had worked for a prestigious Toronto firm, but she had found the bureaucracy that came with working in a large corporation stifling. She had left and set up her own small business, catering mainly to her mother’s friends. When one of her clients was stiffed by a Chinese importer, Ava decided to collect the debt herself. In the process she met Uncle, who was chasing the same importer for a different customer. When their combined efforts proved successful, Uncle had suggested that Ava partner with him.

Uncle’s reputation brought a wide range of clients to the table. What he lacked was Ava’s accounting skills and the softer touch she could bring to the recovery process. Their customers were typically Asian, normally desperate, and often irrational by the time they signed up with Ava and Uncle. Their businesses were at stake, their families were being threatened by economic ruin, and they had already exhausted all the conventional methods of retrieving stolen funds. Uncle’s mantra was “People always do the right thing for the wrong reason.” Ava had become particularly adept at finding the wrong reason that would convince her targets to do the right thing, which in their case was return the money to its rightful owner. Ava and Uncle took thirty percent of everything they recovered.

When she spotted Uncle in the lounge, she glanced around to see if Sonny was with him. There was no sign of Uncle’s driver-cum-bodyguard. He was as big as Ava and Uncle put together, and more vicious than anyone she had ever known. He had travelled with them in the past, most often to China, where a show of strength was never misplaced. Ava assumed that Uncle wasn’t expecting to need protection in the Philippines.

She quietly approached his chair. His eyes were closed, and she thought he was sleeping until he said, “Ava, is that you?”

“Yes, Uncle.”

“I thought so. I could smell that Annick Goutal perfume you like so much,” he said, his eyes opening and a tiny smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “You look beautiful, as always.”

“Thank you.”

“But the clothes — ” he said, motioning to her black Giordano T-shirt and Adidas track pants. “You need to change. They are going to meet us at the airport and take us directly to Ordonez’s office.”

“I figured as much. I have everything I need here,” she said, picking up her Shanghai Tang “Double Happiness” bag. “I’ll take a shower and put on something suitable.”

Ava walked into the lounge’s private change rooms. She showered quickly, put on a fresh bra and panties and a pink Brooks Brothers shirt with a modified Italian collar, then debated whether to wear a skirt or slacks. She didn’t know anything about Ordonez or Chang other than what she had read online in Guyana. To be on the safe side she opted for the trousers. A conservative look would never be seriously misinterpreted by powerful men.

She brushed her hair back and fixed it with her favourite ivory chignon pin. Then she applied some mascara and a touch of red lipstick. The last thing she did was slip her Cartier Tank Francaise watch onto her wrist. It had cost a small fortune, but she’d never regretted purchasing it. She loved its look and thought it established the perfect balance between serious and successful.

As she walked from the ladies’ room back across the lounge, she could feel all eyes turn in her direction. Her pace was measured, never hurried, and she held herself erect, confident of her time and place.

Uncle was standing near his chair, in conversation with a man who looked about his age but was six inches taller and at least a hundred pounds heavier. His head was completely bald and he had a large, round face with jowls that trembled when he spoke. He wore a Burberry plaid shirt and slacks that rode too high over his belly. She could see a diamond-encrusted Rolex on his wrist, an enormous jade and diamond ring on his wedding-band finger, and a ruby ring on his pinkie. The contrast between the two men couldn’t have been more striking. Yet as she watched them, she could see that the larger man was trying to make an impression on Uncle. She could read his desire to please in his body language, his rapid speech. Uncle was just listening, nodding every so often.