Ian Hamilton: The disciple of Las Vegas

“Philip gave him the green light.”

“How did you discover you had a problem?”

Marx sighed and rolled his eyes skywards. “Deloitte was doing their audit and they came across the land transactions. They started off questioning whether or not we had violated the threshold limits. Philip argued with them, saying that we had been technically within our rights to do what we did. I know the lead auditor wasn’t convinced, but he wasn’t about to take on Philip head-on. So they did what auditors do: they burrowed deeper to make sure their asses would be covered in case this became an issue. Sending someone to the registry office in Kelowna was a bit extreme, even for them, but I think they had legitimate concerns about the way the deal was structured.”

“Then what happened?”

“Deloitte called me first, then I called Philip. He freaked out and told me to hold off advising Manila until we were completely sure of the facts. I couldn’t do that. I knew that Deloitte would report directly to Manila, and I didn’t want it to look as if I was withholding information. So I called my counterpart here.”

“Mr. Chang?”

“No way — he’s the right hand of God. I called the CFO.”

“So what happened?”

“I was told to go to Kelowna and meet the people from Deloitte there. We went to the registry office together and confirmed that the land we thought we had bought was owned by people we had never heard of. We went to Cousins’ office, which turned out to be a vacant apartment. Then we went to the bank that had supposedly handled the transactions. They wouldn’t tell us anything other than that KVD had an account there.”

“Who set up the bank account?”

“Cousins.”

“Who had signing authority?”

“Cousins.”

“You didn’t think to have at least two signatures on it?”

“Ava, we had the titles already. We were transferring money for property we had already purchased.”

“Okay, so now Manila is involved.”

“The CFO flies over to Vancouver, hires a private detective agency to chase down Cousins and the money, and spends two days going through the files with me.”

“Where is Philip?”

“At home — devastated, depressed, and not much good for anything.”

“You saw him?”

“I did.”

“Was he really that distraught?”

“I thought so, and truthfully I didn’t fault him. You know that bad cop/good cop cliche? Well, Chang and Ordonez are more like very bad cop and worse cop. Chang has almost reduced me to tears several times on his own. I’m not sure what I would do if I had both of them hammering at me. I’m sure Philip knew what was in store for him.”

“And the detectives — they came up empty?”

“Can’t find Cousins, can’t find the money. All they can tell us is that the KVD bank account is empty and Cousins cleaned out his personal account too.”

“How much was in his account?”

“We’re told about two million.”

“That’s a lot of money.”

“He fronted the two million to start the project, so he had to have some money,” Marx said, and then caught himself. “Of course, he really didn’t front anything, did he?”

“No,” Ava said softly.

The room went quiet. She had been making notes as Marx spoke. She circled the words two million and personal bank account.

“Now what?” Marx asked.

“I’d like to spend some time alone with the files. I’m sure I’m not going to find anything other than what you’ve told me, but you never know — I could get lucky.”

“Be my guest. I’ll be glad to get out of this room.”

“Do we need to call anyone?”

“To get permission for me to leave, you mean?”

“Yes.”

“They told me to do whatever you asked.”

“Good. Then why don’t you go back to your hotel, have a drink, get a massage, get whatever. Just relax. Louis, we’re colleagues now. I’m not the inquisitor. I’m here to figure out what happened and to try to fix it.” She shook her head. “I think you should get back to Vancouver as soon as you can. You’re like a red flag to these guys. Every time they look at you they’re reminded of what went wrong, and they need to lash out. Go home. I’ll tell them I need you in Vancouver.”

She watched him leave the boardroom, his suit jacket slung over his shoulder, his shirttail hanging out the back of his trousers. She didn’t give him another month with the company. If he didn’t quit they’d fire him. Someone was going to have to take the blame for this fiasco. And Louis Marx wasn’t Chinese and his brother didn’t own the company.

Her phone rang at seven in the evening. It was the wake-up call she had booked after leaving Ordonez’s offices and before crawling into bed with a glass of Pinot Grigio. Ava showered herself into relative consciousness before calling Uncle, who had left a note for her at the front desk, asking her to call him when she checked in.

“ Wei,” he said.

“Uncle, it’s Ava.”

“I’m in suite 1040. Come and see me.”

His door was open when she arrived. The room was beautiful, with gleaming teak floors, elegant bamboo furniture of a quality she knew you couldn’t buy anymore, and a king-size four-poster bed with a snow-white down comforter. Uncle was sitting on a bamboo chair, his feet barely touching the ground, a bottle of Tsing Tao beer in his hand. “I have some white wine on ice for you,” he said, pointing to a credenza.

“You’re spoiling me,” she said.

“It is by way of an apology.”

“I’m sorry, Uncle, I don’t understand.” Ava couldn’t think of anything he’d done that required an apology. Even if there had been a slight, their relationship was such that he would have made amends in a more subtle and less direct way.

He waited until she had poured herself a glass and seated herself next to him before leaning towards her. He caught her eye, and she flinched when she saw the anger in his face. “I was very unhappy with the manner in which Chang Wang and Tommy Ordonez treated you today,” Uncle said. “I had words with Chang after you left the room. I told him I was not certain we wanted to take the job and that I would leave it up to you.”

Ava was surprised by his reaction. She hadn’t found Ordonez and Chang more offensive than some of their other rich Chinese clients. There’s something else at play here, she thought. “Is there a problem with our fee?”

He smiled. “You are so practical.”

“Is there?”

“No, just the opposite. After the way they behaved, I insisted on our usual rate. They agreed.”

“So what’s the issue?”

“Their behaviour,” he said. “Chang Wang is waiting downstairs to have dinner with us. I told him that if we are not there by eight o’clock it means we are going back to Hong Kong tomorrow.”

“You and Chang Wang — how far back do you go?” she asked, realizing that this had nothing to do with her.

“We are both from Wuhan, and we grew up together as boys in the same village.”

“And you’ve kept in touch all these years?”

Uncle stalled by taking a sip of beer. “We have done favours for each other,” he said slowly. “Chang helped me get to Hong Kong. After I was established, I helped him get to the Philippines, where he had a brother. From time to time our businesses — my old one — needed help, and we were there for each other. In China today, Tommy Ordonez would be nothing but an ink blot if it were not for my connections. And Chang helped me make a lot of money in these islands.”

“Such old friends, and close friends. There can’t be too many men from that village who made it out, let alone became so successful.”