by Ian Hamilton
“When?”
Mimi shook her head. “My father was depressed for months. We asked him if something was wrong, but he always denied it. His spirits would pick up for a few days, and then he’d fall back into a depression. I think the ‘good’ moods were his attempt to fool us about how he really felt,” she said. She looked at Derek with tears in her eyes. “I should have been more attentive.”
“Mimi, you did what you could,” he said, reaching out to rest his hand on his wife’s knee. “Your father didn’t want us to know, and there was nothing you could have done to change that. Now tell Ava what your mother found out.”
“Sorry, I got sidetracked,” Mimi said to Ava.
“Take your time.”
“Well, several weeks ago my mother asked him again why he seemed so depressed. When he told her he wasn’t, she kept pressing him until — she says — he lost his temper and began to yell at her,” Mimi said. “In all the years of their marriage, he’d never done anything like that. He was always so mild-mannered with her.”
“Did she talk to you about any of this at the time?”
“She didn’t say a word to me, but that isn’t unusual. My parents are private people. Neither of them ever discussed their problems or — God forbid — their feelings with me,” Mimi said, her voice trembling. “They also didn’t have friends — at least not anyone I know about — they could confide in. It was always June and Phil united against the world, or so I thought. And I guess my mother did as well, until she found out about the money.”
“You said he told her about the money?”
“Yes, but only under duress, and only after she found a stack of papers hidden at the bottom of his dresser drawer. She pretends she found them by accident, but I don’t believe that. I think she suspected he was hiding something and went looking for it,” said Mimi.
“What kind of papers?”
“Financial statements and the like. But what really caused her alarm were the letters at the top of the stack, from the Harvest Investment Fund and a law firm in the city. After she read them, she confronted my father. According to her, when he saw she had them, he turned white as a ghost, and then he said things weren’t as bad as they appeared.”
“We’ve read the letters,” Derek said.
“The oldest goes back a year,” Mimi said. “It’s a notice from the Harvest Fund to investors telling them that the fund’s annual profit-sharing payment would be delayed until the fund finalized its tax filing for the year. Then there are another five or six letters, coming every few weeks or so, all of them making excuses and apologizing for the continued delay in payment. The final letter says the fund had to end its operations, that it had incurred some serious losses. What was particularly cruel was that the fund’s manager claimed they were converting all the remaining assets into cash and investors could expect their accounts to be settled in the near future.”
“How long ago was that last letter?”
“About ten months.”
“And there has been no settlement?”
“He received nothing and didn’t hear another word from the fund.”
“How much of your parents’ money had he invested in the fund?”
“All of it.”
Ava paused. “You mentioned some letters from a law firm.”
“My father and a group of other investors hired them to go after the fund. From what we read — the last letter from the firm was a month ago — they haven’t had any success in getting the money back.”
“Do you think he could have been caught up in a Ponzi scheme?” Derek asked tentatively, as if hoping for a negative answer.
“That’s possible, but it isn’t the only possible explanation,” Ava said. “Though I’m sure there’s no explanation that would have made it easier for Mr. Gregory. I can imagine that most of the past year was absolute torture for him.”
“Well, whatever torture he was enduring, my mother said she made it even worse. She said that when she found out about the money, she nagged and harangued him constantly. She accused him of every failing a human being could have, and she didn’t let up. She said she would go on at him for days on end, and that he took it without any real reaction, which made her even angrier,” Mimi said, starting to cry. “But then he went into the garden shed —” Mimi forced back a sob. “She blames herself for his death. She says she drove him to it.”
Derek stood up and wrapped his arms around his wife, kissing the top of her head. “No one knows what he was thinking. He might have done what he did regardless of how your mother reacted,” he said.
“I know, but it’s going to be difficult to convince her of that,” Mimi said, sobbing.
“Was all their money in this fund?” Ava asked, trying to change an uncomfortable subject.
Mimi wiped her eyes and gathered herself. “My mother says she’s been left with virtually nothing.”
“Did she try to contact the fund to get some kind of explanation?”
“I don’t know, but I doubt it. It sounds to me that she just went after my father.”
“And you said the lawyers haven’t had any success.”
“They haven’t been able to get any of the money back, but from their letters it appears they did manage to track down the guy who ran the fund. His name is Malcolm Muir. They met with him, but nothing came of it,” Mimi said.
“Did the lawyers make any suggestions for further action?”
“In their last letter they say that suing Muir and the fund is the only real option available, but they aren’t optimistic that a lawsuit would succeed. Evidently Muir has made clever use of our bankruptcy laws. The law firm also asked for a large retainer before proceeding, so I doubt that my father signed on.”
“How about the other people who hired the firm?”
“I don’t know.”
“Do you know who they are?”
“None of the names are familiar to me.”
Ava hesitated as other questions began to enter her mind. “Tell me again the name of this fund.”
“The Harvest Investment Fund.”
“That’s an unusual name.”
“It seems to be connected to Harvest Table Bible Chapel. My father started going there four or five years ago,” Mimi said. “After being a rather lukewarm Anglican for most of his life, he became a very enthusiastic evangelical Christian after hearing Pastor Sammy Rogers preach.”
“Rogers is connected to the chapel?”
“Rogers is the chapel, and calling it a chapel is a bit of a joke. It’s a monster structure north of the city, about halfway between here and Barrie,” Derek interjected. “It must have cost millions to build.”
“Your father went there?” Ava asked Mimi.
“He went twice a week, on Wednesday evenings for Bible study and every Sunday for the service.”
“Did your mother go with him?”
“Everything about Harvest Table embarrassed her. It became a source of friction between them. That could be another reason why she went off on him when she found out about the money.”
“Did the lawyers contact the chapel to ask about this fund?”
“I don’t know, but my mother says my father insisted that the chapel had nothing to do with the fund. And on the bottom of the statements from the fund it says very clearly that it’s not part of the Harvest Table Bible Chapel organization.”
“Then why use a similar name? That doesn’t make much sense.”
“Let me get one of the statements for you,” Mimi said, getting to her feet before Ava could respond.
Derek waited until his wife had gone inside before he leaned towards Ava. “Can you help with this? I know you don’t do this kind of work anymore, but no one was better than you at finding money and getting it back. Mimi is too embarrassed to ask you, but we would appreciate it all the same.”
“Of course I’ll help,” Ava said. “But I can’t promise I’ll accomplish anything until I see what I’m dealing with.”
“Even if the money is truly gone, it would be good to know what happened to it and what happened to the people who took it.”
“Here’s one of the statements,” Mimi said as she came back onto the porch. “They all have the same disclaimer at the bottom.”
Ava took the page from Mimi and read aloud: “The Harvest Investment Fund is not affiliated in any way with Harvest Table Bible Chapel. The Fund is completely independent and has no formal or informal ties to the Chapel or any of the Chapel’s organizations.”
“What I don’t get is, if it wasn’t tied to the chapel, why would the chapel let them use their name?” Derek said.
“It’s a common name, so I doubt you could trademark it,” Ava said. “But that still raises the question of why there needed to be a disclaimer in the first place.”
“Maybe because the only people allowed to invest in the fund were chapel members,” Derek said.
“Why do you say that?”
“There’s a document among Phil’s papers that lays out the terms and conditions for joining the fund. I read it quickly while we were waiting for you.”
“How many other papers does Mrs. Gregory have?” Ava asked.
“The fund reported to the investors every month with what looks like a combination of statement and newsletter. I think Phil kept them all.”
“Could I take them with me?”
Mimi looked at Ava and then turned to Derek. “You didn’t ask Ava to help, did you?”
“No, he didn’t. I offered, and I won’t take no for an answer,” Ava said.
“I asked you to come here so I could get your advice on what we might do. I don’t expect you to get involved directly. You have enough going on in your life without taking on my family’s problems,” Mimi said. “Derek and I have already decided to contact the legal firm to see if a lawsuit is going ahead. If it is, we’ll try to attach my mother’s name to it, as long as the cost is reasonable.”
“Well, while you’re doing that, why don’t I take a look at the paperwork,” Ava said. “Mimi, it is what I’m trained to do.”
“I know you are. I also know that you’ve moved on from debt collection.”
“But I haven’t stopped using my accounting skills,” Ava said.
Mimi sighed. “Okay. And thank you.”
“Good, Now why don’t you get me the paperwork.”
“I’ll go inside and get it,” Derek said. “It isn’t in any particular order.”
“I don’t care about that. I’ll organize it,” Ava said.
“Thank you for doing this,” Mimi said again as Derek left.
“I’m pleased to get a chance to give something back after all the things you and Derek have done for me over the years.”
Mimi squeezed Ava’s hand. “We could look after my mother financially if we have to, but I know she wouldn’t want us to. She’s an incredibly proud and independent woman. “
“I can’t promise I’ll find out what happened to the money,” Ava said, “but I’ll do what I can.”
“I know you will.”
(4)
It was almost midnight when Ava and Fai got back to the Yorkville condo.
“Do you want to share a shower?” Fai asked as Ava turned on the lights.
“I’d love to, but can you wait a little? I could use a glass of wine, and I wouldn’t mind putting these papers into some kind of order before going to bed.”
Fai smiled. “I’ll get the wine.”
Ava sat at the kitchen table and opened the file folder. Her plan was to simply group the documents by type and then by date. At first glance she saw a terms sheet, newsletter/statements, the lawyer’s letters, and the letters from the fund that, one by one, told Phil Gregory his life was ruined.
“Where shall I put your wine?” Fai asked, holding up two glasses.
“Here,” Ava said, pushing some of the papers aside to make room.
“I’m going into the bedroom to check my emails. Come and get me when you’re finished.”
Ava took a sip of wine, picked up a stack of paper, and began to sort the pages into piles. Everything was dated, which pleased her because it would make it easier to form an idea of how the Harvest Fund had operated. She worked quickly, the growing stack of statements dwarfing the terms document and letters. When that was finished, she began to organize each stack by date. The terms sheet was dated July five years before, and the first statement was from the following September. Mimi had said her father had been going to the chapel for four or five years. It seemed to Ava he had joined the fund around the same time he started attending the church. She wondered if that was a coincidence.
The sorting went quickly. Mr. Gregory seemed to have kept everything he’d been sent; there wasn’t a single statement missing, from the first date to the last. She was tempted to start reading the statements, but knowing that Fai was waiting for her, she decided just to scan the terms sheet. Its heading was certainly different from any she’d seen before. It read: “Putting Your Money to Work for God, Your Community, and Your Family.” And the first paragraph continued along a similar vein: “The Harvest Investment Fund has been created as a vehicle for Christians to put their money to work in ways that reflect their beliefs and values. The Fund will invest only in businesses that benefit the community and will direct half of its profits to charitable Christian causes at home and around the world.”
“Ava,” Fai said, walking into the kitchen with her phone in one hand and her glass of wine in the other, “Chen’s on the line and wants to speak to you.”
Ava put down the terms sheet. “What does he want?”
“He has news about Lau Lau,” Fai said.
Chen was Fai’s agent in Beijing and had also represented Lau Lau in the past. Ava had convinced him to find a rehabilitation centre for his former client. She took the phone. “Hello, Chen. Are things going alright at rehab, or has Lau Lau relapsed?”
“I haven’t spoken to him, but he must be doing okay. He sent me an email last night with a script.”
“He finished it that quickly?”
“He has been in rehab for over a month. I’m sure he started writing as soon as he could, and a script is only about a third as long as an average novel,” Chen said. “Besides, Lau Lau always did work fast. He’d get an idea and rework it in his head over and over again before he put it down on paper.”
“Have you read it?”
“I have.”
“What do you think?”
“I don’t want to give you an opinion just yet. I’d like to think about it a bit more, maybe reread it, and I want Fai to read it as well. After we’ve talked, I’ll tell you what I think.”
“Okay.”
“And Fai has something else to talk to you about,” he said, almost conspiratorially. “Listen, Ava, I’ve just offered her an opportunity of the kind that doesn’t come along very often. My fear is that she won’t accept it unless you give her your blessing. Truthfully, I’ve never known her to be as happy as she is now, and you’re the largest part of that, but it shouldn’t mean she gives up her career. She’s an actress — she needs to act.”
“I’ve never suggested that she shouldn’t,” Ava said, catching Fai’s eye.
“Good. Then you two talk. Tell her to call me back when she makes up her mind,” Chen said.
Ava ended the call. “That was an interesting conversation,” she said to Fai.
Fai sat down next to her. “It is good news about Lau Lau. Even if the script is terrible, he’s working again.”
“That was of less interest to me than whatever Chen was not so subtly hinting at about you.”
“Just a moment,” Fai said. She went to the fridge, took out the bottle of wine, and
brought it to the table. She refilled their glasses, took a sip, and then sat down again. “I’ve been offered a film role in Taiwan that he wants me to accept.”
“Does it sound like a good part?”
“Maybe better than good. The director is Andy Gao. He’s been one of my favourites for years, even though I haven’t had a chance to work with him.”
“He has made some great films,” Ava said.
“I agree, and the one he’s working on now sounds wonderful. It’s a love story between a middle-aged woman and an older man. Chen says the script is fantastic and that the role of the woman is perfect for me,” Fai said, and then smiled. “The story even has a happy ending, which would be a welcome change.”
“Then you should do it,” Ava said.
“I’d like to, but there’s a complication.”
“What do you mean?”
“Andy told Chen that he needs me on set immediately.”
“Why?”
“They were ready to start shooting yesterday when the lead actress suddenly became ill.”
“How ill?”
“Actually, she overdosed on drugs. Even if she could return to the set in a week or two, the insurance company won’t cover her or the film,” Fai said. “Andy is stuck.”
“He’s hardly stuck if you’re his backup plan,” Ava said, smiling. “It sounds like a great role for you. How long will you need to be in Taiwan?”
“Six weeks, give or take. Andy has a reputation for being super organized and efficient.”
“That’s not so bad. Mao’s Daughter took longer than that.”
“If I accept the part, you do understand that I’d be getting on a plane as soon as tomorrow?”
“Of course I understand, but it sounds like a great opportunity.”
“I think it is.”
“Fai, I’ll miss you, but I’m happy for you,” Ava said, and then waved her hands over the stacks of paper. “Besides, I’ve got this mess to sort through, and it will likely occupy quite a bit of my time.”
“Then I’ll call Chen and tell him to book my flight,” Fai said, leaning towards Ava with her lips puckered. They kissed with more than a hint of passion.
