Ian Hamilton - The disciple of Las Vegas

The two men exchanged some words. Then Ko reached under his raincoat, took out another knife, and gave it to his partner. She watched in disbelief as the man with the mohawk clutched it in his good hand. The men separated and moved to either side of her, still keeping some distance. Ava moved backwards towards a wall so she could keep both of them in front of her.

“The contract is cancelled! You have to call Li!” she yelled again.

The man with the mohawk took up a position on her left. She could see the pain on his face, the arm she had broken dangling uselessly at his side. Ko was taking small steps to the right and then the left, inching forward all the time. The knife hung loosely by his side. She could feel him measuring the distance between them. She was doing the same, while keeping an eye on his partner.

Ko crept closer, his eyes fixed on Ava, the knife now poised to strike. She focused on his feet, knowing they would tell her where to move when he began his attack.

“Talk to me, Ko,” she said.

He stopped, a glint of recognition in his eyes. He doesn’t understand, she thought — she’d been speaking Cantonese. “Ko, you need to phone Li,” she said in Mandarin. “The contract has been cancelled. Li is waiting for your call.”

Ko held his ground, the knife pressed against his thigh, but she could see the first sign of understanding in his eyes. “There’s no need to do this now,” she said. “And if you take one more step in my direction I’m going to defend myself.” She raised the knife she held. “I know how to use this. I’ll cut your heart out if I have to.”

“The contract is cancelled?” he said.

“Yes. Li has been trying to reach you.”

“Our phones don’t work here,” he said

“Li said they were off.” Ava gestured towards the alley entrance. “Call him on mine. It’s on the sidewalk back there.”

He hesitated.

“Call him,” Ava said. She took the piece of paper from her pocket. “I have his number. Do you need it?”

“No.”

“Then do it,” she said.

Ko backed up carefully to the alley entrance, found the phone, and slid it across the pavement with his foot. He bent over to pick it up, his eyes still on Ava. “Come here,” he said to his partner.

The man with the mohawk sidled back to Ko, who guided him to a place against the wall about six metres from Ava. The two men spoke briefly, then Ko opened Ava’s phone and punched in the numbers.

Ava noticed a middle-aged couple standing at the entrance to the alley, looks of shock and fear on their faces. “This was a family squabble,” Ava said. “It’s over now. There’s no need to be concerned. There’s no need to involve yourselves or anyone else in this. It’s over.”

“But you’re bleeding,” the woman said.

Ava looked down at the gash on her arm. It was about ten centimetres long but not very deep. Still, blood was running down her arm and hand, and a few drops had trickled onto the pavement. “It looks worse than it is,” she said, wiping at the wound with the bottom of her T-shirt.

“We should call someone,” the woman said.

“No, please. I’m okay.”

They hesitated, then the man took the woman by the arm. “You people shouldn’t bring your ways to this country,” he said as they turned to walk away.

Ava shook her head and looked back at Ko and his partner. Ko was talking on the phone, nodding his head. He listened for another minute before closing the phone, and then he whispered in his partner’s ear.

“Li says I’m to tell you it was just business,” Ko said.

“I understand.”

“It was just business.”

“I know — just business.”

Ko held out Ava’s phone. “Here.”

“No, slide it to me,” she said.

He shrugged, then tossed it at her feet.

Ko’s partner, leaning against the wall, groaned.

“You’d better look after him,” she said.

Ko spat on the ground and reached for his partner’s good arm. “I would have taken you,” he said. “Next time.”

Ava dropped the knife and with a swipe of her foot kicked it against the wall. Her arm was bleeding badly. She lifted the hem of her T-shirt, wrapped it around the gash as best she could, and pressed her arm against her side. Then she walked out of the alley and onto High Street. The hotel entrance was only twenty metres away; she could see the doorman helping a couple out of a taxi. As Ava walked past him, he smiled at her and tipped his cap.

She was almost across the lobby, her arm throbbing and blood seeping through her T-shirt, when her cellphone rang. Why now? she thought.

“Ms. Lee, this is Andrew Hawkins, Minister Simmons’s executive assistant. We met last night.”

Ava stopped walking. “I know who you are.”

“I’ve been asked to call you.”

“Why?”

“It’s about the subject you discussed with the Minister last night.”

“We discussed a lot of things. Can you please get to the point? I’m rather busy right now,” Ava said.

He hesitated, and Ava wondered if Simmons was listening to their conversation. “I’m calling to see if you would be available for a meeting this afternoon.”

“With the Minister?”

“No, actually, it would be with his daughter, Lily, and her lawyer, George McIntyre.”

“And why would I agree to that?”

“I’m not privy to all the details, and neither, I assure you, is the Minister. I am told that Ms. Simmons and Mr. McIntyre have reviewed the material you left with her yesterday and have decided, upon second thought, that you have made a strong and compelling case for return of the money that was represented to her as company profits.”

“The stolen money?”

“As I said, I’m not privy to the details, so I’m not in a position to say yea or nay to your characterization.”

“What are you in a position to say?”

“Ms. Simmons has indicated that she is prepared to meet with you and to execute the document that you wanted signed.”

Ava was standing by the elevator, blood now dripping on the marble floor of the lobby. She noticed the concierge staring at her in shock. “Can you get me a towel, please?” Ava asked. “I had an accident outside.”

“I beg your pardon?” Hawkins said.

“I wasn’t speaking to you.”

“Oh.”

“Give me a moment.”

The concierge walked quickly towards her, holding a small towel he had taken from a drawer in his desk. She took it from him and, seeing the panic in his face, said, “It’s not that serious. I’ll be okay. Now please excuse me, I have to finish this phone call.”

“I can get a doctor here in minutes.”

She waved off the offer and put the phone back to her ear. “Mr. Hawkins, you were telling me that Ms. Simmons is going to sign my transfer request.”

“Those weren’t my exact words,” he said cautiously. “I said she was prepared to do that.”

“It sounds as if there are conditions attached.”

“Well, there is one complication that I’ve been advised about. The request you mentioned — the paper you evidently left with her yesterday — she doesn’t have it anymore.”

“She lost it?”

“She tore it up.”

At least he’s honest, Ava thought. “That isn’t a problem. I have another copy.”

“I am sure she will be relieved to hear that.”

“Is that all, then?” Ava asked.

“No, there is one more thing.”

“I’m listening.”

“It’s in regard to the conversation you had with Minister Simmons last night.”

“Yes?”

“You expressed the opinion at one point that he may have violated the integrity of his blind trust.”

“Yes, I did imply that was possible.”