Finale, page 9
“That was a great night,” Sonny said, disrupting Uncle’s thoughts as they drove south towards Kowloon. “The men were thrilled to see you.”
“And I was pleased to see them. There are times that I miss our old life.”
“You should go to Fanling more often,” Sonny said, and then looked into the rear-view mirror as if he were trying to provoke a response.
“Once every few years is enough. I wouldn’t want to become a nuisance.”
“That would never be the case.”
“That’s enough about Fanling. Let’s talk about tomorrow.”
“Will you be going to Sha Tin for the races?”
“That is my plan, unless something happens with Ava in Surabaya that needs my attention,” Uncle said. “If you don’t hear from me in the morning, assume we’re going and pick me up at eleven-thirty.”
“How are things with Ava?”
“She arrived in Surabaya safely, but beyond that I won’t know much until tomorrow.”
Uncle began to feel fatigued halfway through the ride, and by the time they reached his apartment he was struggling to keep his eyes open. He went immediately to bed expecting to have a solid sleep. But a few hours later he woke with an upset stomach, and for the rest of the night he was in and out of the bathroom.
At seven, he got out of bed feeling dehydrated. He drank two glasses of water and then sat in his chair with the racing form. He still had more than four hours before Sonny was scheduled to pick him up. If his stomach settled, he decided he would go to Sha Tin, but he wanted to be sure there wouldn’t be any embarrassing accidents.
He didn’t make any more trips to the bathroom until nine, and then it was to shave and shower. His stomach seemed to be under control, and he thought briefly about eating some plain white rice or going to Morning Blessings for congee before deciding that caution should prevail. Uncle went into his bedroom to dress for the day and was still buttoning his shirt when the phone rang. He rushed to it, certain Ava was calling.
“Wei,” he answered.
“It’s Ava. What a morning we’ve had.”
“Were there problems?”
“None of an immediate kind,” she said.
“What does that mean?” he asked, ill at ease.
“Uncle, we managed to grab Cameron without difficulty, and I’ve been able to persuade him to talk. The thing is, we have stumbled into something which is way larger and far more complicated than I imagined,” she said. “This bank, the man Cameron, the Indonesian connections — they are nothing but window dressing to hide an immense money-laundering operation.”
“Who is doing the laundering?”
“An Italian mob that Cameron says is the ’Ndrangheta. Have you heard of them?”
Uncle immediately felt a nervous chill. “Unfortunately, I have, but more on them later. Tell me what they are doing.”
“According to Cameron — and I have no reason to doubt him — they are flying planeloads of cash into Indonesia. The money is deposited into Bank Linno, and then goes back to various ’Ndrangheta associates in the form of loans to buy real estate in places like New York, Rome, and Toronto. The loans, of course, aren’t really loans. They are never repaid and there is no interest charged. The bank keeps two sets of books. One set reflects the reality of what’s going on, and the other shows that loan payments are being properly made. That second set is what the bank shows to the Indonesian government, and they’ve even been paying taxes based on their fictional profits.”
“I assume the ’Ndrangheta control the bank.”
“They own the bank and control every part of its business. There are two members living in Surabaya, and they monitor its operations. Cameron is limited in what he can do as president. He claims the Italians make every important decision,” Ava said.
“Could he confirm what happened to the money from Toronto?”
“He could. Purslow stole it, and when the Italians found out they went ballistic. They tracked him down, killed him, and then transferred the money to Surabaya.”
“If it is there, can we get our hands on it?”
“Not through Cameron, or so he maintains. He says he doesn’t have the authority to complete any transaction over a million dollars without approval. His main job is to provide the cover — the paper trail for those bogus real estate loans,” she said. “Although, truthfully, I’m not sure why they felt that was necessary since Cameron says they’re paying a lot of Indonesian government officials not to look too hard into what’s going on.”
“Those particular Italians are as cautious as they are clever — and they are exceedingly clever.”
“How do you know them?”
“I met some of their representatives many years ago when they came to Asia to buy drugs. They explained that their gang was bound together by blood, money, and oaths that they valued above their lives. I never did business with them, but some brothers tried, and it didn’t turn out well,” he said. “There is a viciousness to them that makes them difficult partners, but that also explains why they have done so well. Killing Purslow and keeping Cameron on a tight rein is entirely in keeping with the way they operate. And I have to say, that Indonesian bank set-up is brilliant.”
“Brilliant or not, I want to confirm what Cameron has been telling me,” Ava said.
“How can you do that?”
“If he has created a paper trail for the loans and real estate transactions, then everything should be on file at the bank. If I can access the records, I’ll know who owns what and where, and maybe I can find a back door we can use to get our clients’ money,” she said. “When I finish speaking to you, I’m going to get what I need in the way of codes and passwords to get into the files, from Cameron.”
“How long will that take?”
“If I have his passwords and I know where to look in the bank’s database, no more than a few hours.”
“Good — the more we know the better. But whether you get in or not, I do not want you to stay in Surabaya. I want you out of there today,” Uncle said forcefully.
“Let me confirm what I’ve been told.”
“Not if it means you cannot leave today.”
“Uncle, if I can’t get the information by noon, then there is something wrong with either me or the information.”
“Call me back then.”
“I will.”
“And in the meantime, I’m going to hold a seat for you on a flight to Hong Kong. These are not people we should engage with, Ava. We need to get you far from them, and as quickly as we can.”
“How about Perkasa?”
“You need to tell him what I said about the Italians. He is a good man. He knows how to keep his mouth shut. He also knows how to disappear,” Uncle said.
“And the banker?”
“That will depend on what you find out,” Uncle said carefully.
“I was thinking the same.”
“We have some time,” he said. “Discover what you can. Meanwhile, I want to consider this thing in more detail. With these Italians, you cannot afford to make mistakes; you cannot afford to leave loose ends.”
“Okay, I’ll get the information I need and call you when I’m done.”
“No later than noon,” he said.
As Uncle put down the phone, the chill he’d felt earlier became a cold sweat. He had struggled not to sound panicked when he was speaking to Ava, but the moment she mentioned the ’Ndrangheta, panic had been his immediate reaction. The ’Ndrangheta were the most vicious and vengeful gangsters he knew of. When he had said to Ava that it hadn’t turned out well when some triads tried to do business with them, that was an understatement. In one dispute over the quality of a drug shipment, the Italians had shot and killed five brothers, and then tortured and shot a deputy Mountain Master in front of his wife and daughter. The Triad Council considered launching a counterattack, but when an informer who knew the ’Ndrangheta told them the Italians would never back down and would fight to the last drop of their blood, the council decided it was wiser just to stop doing business with them.
Cameron now knows Ava. That thought burned in Uncle’s head. If Cameron told the Italians, then getting her out of Surabaya wouldn’t be enough to ensure her safety.
( 15 )
Uncle’s conversation with Ava had given him a lot to think about, but before tackling those issues, he needed to reorganize his day. His first call was to Sonny.
“Yes, boss,” Sonny answered.
“I won’t be going to Sha Tin today. Ava might need my help with the job in Surabaya and I need to be reachable and not distracted in any way,” Uncle said.
“Is there anything I can do?”
“Yes, but not right now. I’m going to book a flight to get her out of there today. I’ll go with you to the airport to meet her. I’ll let you know when to pick me up.”
“Okay, I’ll hang loose until I hear from you.”
Uncle’s next call was to the travel agency they had been using for ten years. Travel agencies in Hong Kong were disappearing, but out of loyalty Uncle continued to support theirs. Ten minutes later Ava had a first-class seat on a Cathay Pacific flight that left Surabaya at six p.m. If it left on time, it would land in Hong Kong at ten-thirty. Uncle phoned Sonny and told him to come to the apartment at nine-thirty.
With that settled, he was ready to think about Surabaya, but as he looked around the apartment, Uncle felt confined and decided some fresh air might do him good. He slipped on his jacket, told Lourdes he was going out, and went downstairs to walk to the park. When he got there, he found an unoccupied bench and sat.
Why did it have to be the ’Ndrangheta? If it was any other organization, I could find a way around them. What are our options?
He returned to the fact that Cameron knew Ava’s real name. The fact she had presented herself as working for Dynamic Financial Services didn’t matter; that was a pretence that would quickly be exposed if the ’Ndrangheta pursued it. If pressured, the people at Dynamic would eventually tell the ’Ndrangheta absolutely everything they knew about Ava.
In addition to Dynamic, another way to get to Ava was through the friends of Johnny Yan she had met in Surabaya. Cameron would be sure to give up their names if he was questioned by his employers, and they would be as vulnerable to pressure as the accountants at Dynamic.
Uncle sighed. It seemed obvious that, although Ava was his priority, there were other people who would be at risk if Cameron talked. That made it even more necessary that Cameron be eliminated.
Uncle took a pack of Marlboros from his jacket and lit a stick. It was something he did reflexively, preoccupied as he was with the Cameron problem. He took three or four deep drags before he began to feel light-headed. He paused, gathered himself, and took one more drag. Cameron had to go, he told himself, but who should do it?
On their last job in Macau, the one in which Ava was shot in the hip, she had executed a triad named Lok with a gunshot to the head. Lok’s death had been necessary for much the same reason Cameron’s was going to be — namely, to let him live was to risk consequences that could be dangerous and far-reaching. Not consequences that might happen, but which were almost guaranteed. But despite the fact Ava had understood the necessity of killing Lok, Uncle realized it had taken an emotional toll on her. Did she still carry those psychological scars? And even if the logic was more compelling this time, could he ask her to kill again?
Uncle knew he could ask Perkasa to do it, but how would Ava react if he did? Would she think he didn’t trust her? Would she think he’d gone behind her back? In all of the jobs they’d taken on, neither of them had made a decision this important without consulting their partner. Uncle lit another cigarette as he turned over his options. “Shit,” he said, as he decided he had to let Ava make the call about who would take care of Cameron. But what he could also do was brief Perkasa and make sure he was there for backup. It wasn’t an ideal solution, but it was practical.
The park was getting busy; there was a steady stream of people moving past and around Uncle in all directions. He barely noticed. His body may have been in Kowloon, but his mind was in Surabaya, and now he was considering how the ’Ndrangheta would respond if their bank manager was found dead. He was certain they wouldn’t spare any effort trying to find out what had happened. They would start by retracing Cameron’s steps for the previous few days, and if they did, what would they find? Had Cameron told anyone about the dinner with Johnny Yan’s friends and Ava? Even if he hadn’t, Westerners weren’t that common in Surabaya. Cameron and Yan’s friends could have been easily noticed together, and that was another road that led to Ava.
So, killing Cameron wasn’t enough. What they needed to do was find a way to shift the ’Ndrangheta’s attention away from Ava and the people who had attended the dinner with Cameron. But what would it take to make that happen? As he contemplated that question, Uncle’s phone rang.
“Wei,” he answered.
“Uncle, this is Perkasa. Ava just left to go to the hotel to use her computer. She got passwords from Cameron. I’m assuming they’re good.”
“That’s excellent news — and how is it going otherwise?”
“Well enough. I don’t think I’ve ever worked with anyone as thorough or as tough as her. I could barely believe it when she charged up the cattle prod and used it to fry Cameron’s balls, although I have to admit it was really effective.”
“I don’t need any more detail, but whatever she did, I’m sure she thought it was necessary,” said Uncle, hiding his surprise at Ava’s use of torture. “Did she tell you about our problem — about the ’Ndrangheta?”
“She did. It floored me. Who would have thought they’d be operating here, and on such a massive scale?”
“Do you understand how dangerous they are?”
“I have some idea,” said Perkasa.
“If they find out about Ava, the locals she met, and you and the people you hired, nothing will stop them from coming after all of you.”
“Are you saying that we need to get rid of Cameron?”
“I am.”
“I was thinking the same thing, and I know Ava agrees,” Perkasa said.
“I’ll have to talk to her about who is going to do it. I’d prefer it be you, but I have to leave the decision with her. She has a strong sense of responsibility.”
“You know I’ll do whatever you want.”
“Thanks, but if we kill him, we can’t let the ’Ndrangheta find him.”
“One of the men I hired has a farm. That’s where we are now. We can bury Cameron somewhere where he’ll never be found.”
“Your man won’t object to Cameron being buried in his backyard?”
“No, we’ll just pay him more money.”
“That’s a good start, but I’m thinking what would be even better is if the ’Ndrangheta believe he’s alive and has left Surabaya, taking their secrets with him. That would focus their attention on Cameron. In their minds, you and Ava wouldn’t even exist.”
“How could we do that?”
“I don’t know yet, but we don’t have a lot of time to come up with something if we are going to have both of you out of there today.”
“I know.”
“Tell me, these locals you hired — are they simply muscle, or are they more useful than that?”
“One is a police officer; the farmer is his brother. They are both capable and well connected.”
“Would they have any influence at the airport?”
“I don’t know, but I’ll ask.”
“Ask them now. I’ll wait,” said Uncle.
He lit a cigarette, found the taste increasingly more to his liking, and wondered if his body was returning to normal. He finished the stick and was thinking of lighting another when Perkasa came on the line.
“They know a lot of people who work at the airport,” he said. “For the right incentive, they tell me, all kinds of favours can be extracted.”
“That is exactly what I was hoping to hear,” Uncle said. “I have the germ of an idea, but I want to work on it a bit more before sharing the details. In the meantime, keep your local guys at hand, and let them know we’re going to pay them very well for any additional help they provide.”
“Will do,” said Perkasa.
Uncle checked the time when he hung up. Assuming Cameron had given Ava accurate information — and why wouldn’t he have, if an electric cattle prod was waiting for him? — Uncle figured that Ava would have accessed the bank’s database by now. He was curious about what she was going to find. Even if it was only real estate deals, he wondered what their magnitude was and what the target markets were. There was also the question of Cameron’s financial authority. Was he really limited to making transfers of a million dollars or less? If he wasn’t, could Ava recoup the money their clients had lost? It would be dangerous, of course, since the Italians also had full access to the bank’s database, and would be able to track any transfer authorized by Cameron.
Uncle stood and began a slow walk around the park. An idea was taking shape, and as it did his pace quickened. He lost track of how many times he went around the park before his phone rang again. He looked at it, saw Ava’s number, and answered by saying, “I’ve been waiting to hear from you and it hasn’t been easy.”
“There was a lot of information to download, but as interesting as it is, I’m not sure it’s of any benefit to us,” she said.
“Tell me what you have and then we’ll decide together.”
( 16 )
“The ’Ndrangheta have been buying real estate from the day they took control of the bank,” Ava said. “They started in Italy — in Rome, Milan, Florence, and Parma — and then their interest shifted to New York and Toronto. They aren’t buying anything that would attract attention. Their focus has been on small office buildings, strip malls, small apartment complexes, that sort of thing. But when I did a rough estimate of the total value of their real estate holdings it came to more than five billion dollars.”
