The Diamond Queen of Singapore

by Ian Hamilton

  “Did he approach the bank?”

  “Yes, he hired an Amsterdam law firm, but they couldn’t get anything out of BNSA.”

  “But if a crime was committed — ”

  “No criminal charges have been laid in Canada or anywhere else,” Ava interrupted. “This was a carefully planned and executed fraud that exploited weaknesses in the Canadian laws. In fact, the main perpetrator continues to live in the open, and in very comfortable circumstances, in Toronto. He is officially bankrupt, of course, as are all the companies he used to mask his activities.”

  “And you haven’t gone after him yet? That isn’t like you, Ava, at least not as I remember you.”

  “I can’t operate in Canada the way I did in Asia,” Ava said. “Besides, I don’t have any real interest in talking to him until I know where the money is or isn’t. Help me do that and I’ll figure out the next step from there.”

  “I understand. And as it happens, I have a few contacts at BNSA.”

  “That’s wonderful,” Ava said quickly.

  “But they won’t come cheaply.”

  “Pay whatever you have to.”

  “It could be as much ten thousand euros, and it could be double that if I have to go to more than one person.”

  “I’ll wire you thirty thousand euros today, twenty thousand for the possible bank contacts and ten thousand for you as a retainer.”

  “Do you have my banking information?”

  “Are you still with ING?” Ava asked, looking at her notebook.

  “Yes.”

  “Then I have the information I need,” Ava said. “I’d also like to send you data I have on the wires sent to BNSA. I have the account number and the date and amount of each transfer.”

  “Scan it and send it to me,” Smits said. “My email address hasn’t changed either.”

  “I’ll do it right away.”

  “And I’ll start making calls first thing in the morning.”

  “Thank you, Jacob.”

  “Ava, you’re paying me. You don’t have to thank me.”

  “I like to think of you as a friend, not just someone I’m paying to do a job.”

  “That’s a real compliment. I’ll try not to disappoint you.”

  Ava ended the call, then sat back in her chair. There were times, despite what she had said to Derek, when she’d missed some aspects of her old job. Working with people like Jacob Smits was one of them.

  (8)

  Ava sent the information she’d promised to Smits, grabbed her notebook, and left the condo to walk to her bank to make the wire transfer. She was halfway there when her phone rang. She looked at the incoming number and smiled.

  “You’ve landed safely,” she said.

  “I have, and now I have one full day to recover before starting work,” Fai said.

  “I’ve spent the day trying to locate Mr. Gregory’s money.”

  “How is that going?”

  “I’ll know more tomorrow when I hear from my contact in the Netherlands,” Ava said. “How was your flight?”

  “Long. We ran into headwinds that added an hour to the trip, so we were close to seventeen hours in the air. I don’t know how the people flying in economy survived it.”

  “Did you get any sleep?”

  “Some, but I was awake for most of the trip. I watched a couple of films and I read Lau Lau’s script. Actually, I read it twice and made some notes,” Fai said matter-of-factly.

  “I’m glad you read it, but I don’t detect any enthusiasm.”

  “Ava,” Fai said, and then hesitated. “It’s brilliant, but I have to tell you that I think it would be a dangerous film to make. It would never be approved by the China Movie Syndicate and it would never be distributed in China.”

  “Lau Lau told me the same thing, but China isn’t the only market for good Chinese films.”

  “Even if you finance it, how will Lau Lau ever get permission to shoot in Beijing and around Tiananmen Square?”

  “I’m sure Lau Lau has considered the logistical problems he’d face. Let’s not pass judgement on how difficult shooting will be until we hear from him.”

  “I don’t mean to sound so negative,” Fai said. “I really do think it’s the best thing he’s ever written, and I would be honoured to play the role of the mother, even if there were repercussions. But I’m less worried about what would happen to me and Lau Lau and more concerned about what it could mean for you and May Ling and Amanda, and maybe even your father and his family.”

  Ava went quiet. May Ling Wong and Amanda Yee were her partners in Three Sisters, an investment company with money in Hong Kong, Shanghai, and Beijing. Ava’s father, Marcus, and her four half-brothers were in business in Hong Kong. “Is that what you meant by ‘dangerous’?” she asked.

  “Yes. I spent hours thinking about it on the plane. Lau Lau has no career and no prospects right now, and a film like this, even if it’s banned in China, could resurrect his career in places like Taiwan and Europe. As for me, realistically — and despite everything they said to us — I don’t believe the Syndicate will finance any film I’m in. So, like Lau Lau, I don’t have much to lose,” Fai said. “It is different for you and your friends. If the authorities learned that you’d financed this film, they might go after your businesses in Hong Kong, Shanghai, and elsewhere in China. It could be particularly hard on May Ling, the Pos, and Suki Chan, because they live in China.”

  Ava thought back to how Lau Lau had described the film to her. “He told me the story is about a mother looking for her son who disappeared during the Tiananmen protests. It didn’t sound that controversial.”

  “Anything that touches on what happened in Tiananmen is controversial, and he’s embellished the storyline he gave you,” Fai said. “Now there’s a parallel plot that focuses on a female army officer who has a part in deciding what action to take against the protesters. She’s completely opposed to sending troops into Tiananmen to disperse them, and when the troops do go in, she becomes an eyewitness to what occurs. The mother eventually meets her and hears her story.”

  “I see,” Ava said, immediately realizing that could generate a negative reaction. “Well, we’re not going to do anything rash. Why don’t you speak to Chen and compare notes. I’ll read the script myself and then we can set up a conference call when you’re settled and over your jet lag. I promise you I’m not going to make any decisions without involving the two of you and all my business partners.”

  “That makes me feel a bit less anxious,” Fai said.

  “But, anxious or not, you do think the script is brilliant?”

  “I do.”

  “Well, that’s a good start,” Ava said.

  Fai yawned.

  “You must be exhausted,” Ava said.

  “As soon as we finish speaking I’m going to crawl into bed and sleep until noon,” Fai said. “I just wish you were here with me. I miss you already, and I’m sure it’s only going to get worse.”

  “If things move quickly here, maybe I’ll join you for a while. I’ve never been to Taiwan.”

  Fai yawned again.

  “Hey, go to bed,” Ava said. “I’m going to crash early tonight, so I’ll call you when I get up.”

  “Okay. Love you.”

  “Love you too.”

  Ava put the phone into the pocket of her lightweight Adidas jacket and walked the rest of the way to the bank. Twenty minutes later she left, with her account forty-five thousand dollars lighter. The late afternoon weather was lovely, about twenty degrees with a light breeze, so rather than going back to her condo, Ava decided to take a longer walk.

  Howell had mentioned that Muir lived in the Annex, a quiet old neighbourhood within walking distance of the condo. Ava had copied the address into her notebook. Despite its central location, the Annex hadn’t been taken over by develop
ers because of a government freeze on construction and because at least five hundred buildings were protected by Heritage Toronto. Large Victorian and Edwardian mansions occupied its tree-lined streets, some of them — given their proximity to the university — used for student residences and frat and sorority houses, but the majority were still single-family dwellings. Ava’s bak mei teacher, Grandmaster Tang, lived in such a house in the Annex, using what was once the living room as his studio.

  Muir’s house was on Elgin Street, a block north of the grandmaster’s on Lowther. Ava wasn’t sure why she wanted to see it, except that it might help make Muir seem more real. When she reached Elgin, she saw that the houses were an interesting mix of old and new; she was pleased that the newer homes suited, rather than overwhelmed, the street. In Mimi’s neighbourhood, tear downs and rebuilds had resulted in faux French chateaus sitting between two bungalows. On Elgin the newer homes were more modest in size and low-key in their use of wood, stone, and windows.

  At Muir’s home, modesty was absent where windows were concerned. The entire left front side was glass, stretching from a few feet above the foundation to a few feet short of the roof. There were no curtains or blinds, so Ava had a clear view of an office with a desk and chair and an enormous painting on the wall behind them. Muir was sitting at the desk, working on a laptop.

  Ava stood on the sidewalk staring at him. She was close enough to see that he was older than he looked in the photo. There were bags under his eyes and deep wrinkles across his forehead, and he had a light stubble on his chin. He was wearing black jeans and a navy-blue Nike golf shirt that fitted snugly over a taut torso. To Ava he didn’t look particularly sinister. If she had passed him on the street he wouldn’t have been worth a second glance.

  Muir raised his head, glanced in Ava’s direction, and then refocused on the laptop. She didn’t move or avert her gaze. A few seconds later he raised his head again, and this time she seemed to catch his attention. He pursed his lips and furrowed his brow as if trying to remember who she was.

  Ava thought about leaving but put one foot on his driveway. Before she knew it she was walking towards the house. She saw Muir rise from his chair and knew he’d seen her approaching. There was no knocker and no window on the solid wood front door. Ava looked up and saw a CCTV camera. She pushed the doorbell and took a step back.

  “Who’s there?” said a man’s voice over the intercom.

  “Mr. Muir, my name is Ava Lee,” she said.

  “I don’t think I know you, young lady,” he said.

  “That’s true sir, but we have mutual friends.”

  “Go on.”

  “Pastor Sammy Rogers and Harvest Table Bible Chapel,” Ava said. “I went to visit a friend on Lowther, but he wasn’t in. And then I remembered someone at the chapel telling me about your home. They said the design is unique, and since I’m thinking of doing renovations to my own, I came by to see it. I didn’t mean to inconvenience you, and I’m sorry if I’ve interrupted something.”

  The door opened partially and Ava found herself looking up at Muir, who was taller than she expected. He examined her, not pretending to be doing otherwise. “I don’t believe I’ve seen you at the chapel,” he said.

  “That isn’t surprising when you consider how many people attend.”

  “No, you I would have remembered,” he said. “You’re Chinese, yes?”

  “Yes. How did you know?”

  “I’ve spent enough time in Asia to tell Chinese from Korean from Japanese. We have a few Koreans, but not so many Chinese attend the chapel, especially not young and attractive women,” he said in a way that made Ava uncomfortable. “So, who is this friend who suggested you come to my house? I have to say I find it very strange.”

  “I can’t blame you for being suspicious,” she said.

  “That’s not much of an answer.” He stared at her around the edge of the door. “If you have something to say, I’m listening,” he said.

  She drew a deep breath. “I was a friend of Phillip Gregory. He was on your finance committee and put money into your investment fund,” she said quickly. “He’s dead. He committed — ”

  “Oh, goodness me,” Muir interrupted. “Why don’t you people leave me alone? What’s done is done, the money is lost, and all this moaning and trying to lay blame won’t change that.”

  “Did you hear what I said? The man is dead.”

  “I didn’t know. And now that I do, I don’t care,” he said calmly. “I have my own problems. I’ve had to declare bankruptcy and I’m still being hounded by people like you. Is there no decency, no respect for privacy left in this city?”

  Before Ava could reply, the door closed in her face.

  (9)

  Ava felt annoyed as she walked back towards Yorkville, but more annoyed with herself than with Muir. There had been no strategy behind her confronting the man, and it had been foolish to mention Phillip Gregory and give Muir her name. “What the hell was I thinking?” she muttered.

  Ava had been in her mid-twenties when she started working with Uncle, and she brought with her the natural exuberance of youth. He had never faulted her for being eager but always counselled caution, and in his calm, controlled, understated way he helped educate her in how to deal with difficult people and circumstances. She’d adapted to his style, which was easy enough because it was her basic nature to be thoughtful. Her mantra became, Take one step at a time and take nothing for granted. It had served Ava well during her years in the collection business, and if she was going to help the Gregory family, she knew she’d be wise to keep following it. Calling Jacob Smits had been the correct first step, and waiting for him to get back to her with information was the second; dropping in on Malcolm Muir wasn’t on the list.

  When she returned home, Ava again noticed how quiet it was in the condo. She thought about Fai and their conversation about Lau Lau’s script.

  Ava looked at the files on her table. There wasn’t much point in continuing to burrow into them until she heard back from Jacob. She opened her laptop and clicked on the email from Chen that contained the script. Ava had never read a script before, and at first its format was awkward to her eye, but the story soon had her in its grip. What she found particularly clever was that the actual events at Tiananmen — both the protests and the eventual massacre — were never shown, only alluded to through the mother’s conversations with people who had known her son and through the memories of the army officer. If anything, in Ava’s opinion, leaving to the imagination the reality of what had happened made it all the more terrifying.

  When Ava finished reading it was dark outside. She went into the bathroom and washed her face with cold water. She had cried several times when the power of Lau Lau’s words had overwhelmed her, but she hadn’t stopped reading. Now she felt a need to gather herself. She thought about calling Fai but decided to let her sleep. Instead she phoned Chen’s office in Beijing, where it was late morning.

  “Ava, is there a problem?” Chen asked as soon as he came on the line.

  “No, I’m calling about Lau Lau’s script,” she said. “Fai and I have both read it.”

  “What do you think?”

  “I’d like to hear your thoughts first.”

  Chen paused and then said carefully, “It is powerful, moving. It might be the best thing he’s ever written.”

  “That’s what Fai thinks as well, but she has reservations. She’s concerned about blowback from the China Movie Syndicate — or worse.”

  “I share those reservations,” Chen said. “If the film were true to the script, it could easily upset the government. Who knows what they’d do to Lau Lau, and to anyone else associated with the film.”

  “Do you think Lau Lau is concerned?”

  “No. He has absolutely nothing to lose.”

  “Fai said the same thing. And she added herself as someone without much to lose,
particularly where working in China is concerned,” Ava said. “Is that true?”

  “I hate to say it, but she’s probably right.”

  “What about you? We discussed the possibility of your producing it. Would you still want to do that with this script?”

  “If I did, I’d also start making retirement plans and looking for a new home in Thailand or Indonesia.”

  “That doesn’t answer my question.”

  Chen hesitated, then said, “I’ve been in this business for a long time, and frankly I’m tired of it. I have enough money for a comfortable retirement, and there are capable people working for me who can take over the agency. My happiest days were working with Lau Lau and Fai when they were making great films together. I was part of their team, but I was always on the outside looking in and never felt I made a meaningful contribution. When you first asked if I would consider producing whatever Lau Lau came up with, I know my initial response was slightly negative, but the more I thought about it, the more I realized that I would really like to do it. Helping to create a Chinese film that actually means something could be my swan song, my legacy to a business I’ve spent my life in.”

  “I’m happy to hear you say that.”

  “But the bigger question is what kind of risk you and your friends are prepared to take,” Chen said quickly. “I know you all have substantial business interests in China. Are you prepared to put those interests in jeopardy?”

  “I’m sure we could find a way to shield our involvement if it came to that,” Ava said. “Chen, I’ll do whatever you and Fai think is best, but I need you to make your decision based on artistic merit, not on speculation about how the Chinese government will respond to the film. Who knows, they might just ban it in China and otherwise ignore it.”

  “That’s optimistic,” Chen said. “Ava, as much as I’d like to see a film like this made, I have to repeat that it isn’t too late for you to back out. You managed to get Lau Lau into rehab, which was a minor miracle by itself, and you got him writing again, which was a major miracle. No one will think badly of you if you don’t want to finance this film.”