by Ian Hamilton
“Pork liver and duck intestines,” Ro Shi said, as she slid portions of everything into the oil.
Ava wasn’t sure she wanted to eat duck intestines, but as the meat cooked it took on a rich brown colour that made it look appetizing enough to try. The food bobbed to the surface when it was cooked, and Ru Shi assumed the role of skimming it out with a small metal-mesh basket. She served Ava first, putting a variety of food on her plate. As Ava took a slice of beef in her chopsticks and placed in her mouth, she noticed that the others were watching to see her reaction to real Sichuan hotpot.
The meat was tender. Initially the flavour was mild, but then she felt a burning sensation on the insides of her lips. She waited for it to pass. Instead it lingered and began to expand over her tongue until she felt as if most of her mouth was on fire. She thought about reaching for a glass of water but was too proud to do that. The spiciness wasn’t going to defeat her, she thought, and she plucked a piece of pork liver from the plate. As she chewed she started to sweat — not dramatically, but she was sure the beads were visible on her forehead.
“We can get a white pot if that would you suit you better,” Han said with a sly smile.
“No, I’m fine with this. The flavour is exceptional,” Ava said, quite sure that she wasn’t the first visitor they had watched struggle with hotpot. She switched to vegetables and found them less intense. After finishing several bamboo shoots and some cucumber and lotus root, she went back to meat. The chicken kidneys were terrific, and she took more from the pot after she’d finished what was on her plate. She tried the beef again, and this time it wasn’t such a shock because, she now realized, her lips were numb from the hua jiao peppercorns.
There had been little conversation and a lot of eating at the table. Ru Shi, Lu, and Han all had big appetites and made short work of the first round. When their plates were empty, Han raised an arm in the air.
“We’ll be right there with more,” a server shouted at him.
Ava took advantage of the break to drink some water. Both Han and Lu had two empty beer bottles in front of them, and Ru Shi had drunk several glasses of water. The restaurant was as busy as when they’d arrived, and Ava saw there were still lines at the door and outside on the street. She was about to comment on that when Lu’s phone rang.
“Wei,” he answered, listened for a few minutes, and then said, “That’s good to know. Go back tomorrow morning at nine to see if they maintain that level of security.”
“Was that Peng?” Han asked when Lu ended the call.
“Yes,” Lu said, and then spoke directly to Ava. “My men went to the warehouse. It didn’t seem to be open for business. Most of its lights were out, and the entry gate was locked. There were armed guards at the gate and scattered around the courtyard.”
“Armed guards aren’t that common in Chengdu,” Han said to her.
“Will they be a problem?” Ava asked.
“We’ll get you inside. Don’t worry about that,” Lu said with a quiet intensity that again reminded her of Lop.
Another wave of food arrived, and Ru Shi filled the pot. Ava noticed how calm she was. The prospect of her husband facing down armed guards didn’t seem to concern her in the least. But then she was the daughter of a Mountain Master and married to a Red Pole. How much violence had she witnessed over the years?
“Ru Shi, do you have any siblings?” Ava asked.
“I’m an only child. My mother died shortly after giving birth to me.”
“Ru Shi is a great daughter,” Han said. “More children couldn’t have made me happier and prouder than she has.”
Ru Shi blushed and said to Ava, “Do you have siblings?”
“I have a sister in Canada, four half-brothers in Hong Kong, and a half-brother and half-sister in Australia,” Ava said. “That sounds more complicated than it is. My father has three wives, and somehow he seems to make it work. I’m the younger daughter of the second wife.”
“And Xu refers to her as his mei mei,” Han said. “So it seems she’s part of another family as well.”
“I hope I can help my father and my husband half as much as you’ve helped Xu,” Ru Shi said.
Ava looked uncomfortable.
“Lam has told me stories about you, and I related them to Lu and my daughter. There’s no reason to be modest,” Han said. “There’s a lot to admire in a woman who can use a gun, think her way through any problem, and manage tough men.”
“I don’t manage any men, and I don’t have a gun,” Ava said, shaking her head. “So I hope you aren’t expecting me to lead a charge into that warehouse. I’d rather depend on Lu’s talents to get inside.”
“My husband will get you into the warehouse, and you won’t need a gun,” Ru Shi said.
(30)
It was well past eleven when Ava returned to the Ritz-Carlton. There had been a third round of food, which she left mainly to the others, and two more bottles of beer for Han, each bottle making him more loquacious. As well as having met Uncle, Han had known Xu’s father, and he regaled the table with stories he’d heard about their early lives as triads in Fanling, a town in Hong Kong’s New Territories.
Lu said very little — another Lop trait — but Ru Shi shared her father’s enjoyment of conversation, and all it took was one question from Ava about her children to unleash a torrent of tales. What pleased Ava was how attentive Han and Lu were when she spoke, and how proud they seemed of the children’s exploits.
When they reached the hotel, Ava and Ru Shi shared a hug in the back seat. Han watched with a grin spread across his face. “What did you really think of our hotpot?” he asked Ava.
“It was wonderful, but my lips are still numb.”
“It will wear off in an hour or so,” he said, and then turned to Lu. “What time do you think will be best to pick up Ava tomorrow?”
“My men will scout the warehouse at nine. Once I know what we’re dealing with, I’ll formulate a plan and then call Ava to make arrangements.”
“I’ll stay in my room until I hear from you,” she said.
“That’s perfect.”
Ava entered the lobby and rode the elevator to the forty-first floor. She didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary until the elevator started its ascent and she saw the other passenger twitching his nose. It was then that the smell of chili oil penetrated her senses. She hadn’t been aware of it in the car, but in the elevator’s confined space it was unavoidably pungent. The man exited on the thirty-fifth floor, leaving Ava on her own. She smelled her shirt. It reeked of oil, and she was sure her hair and slacks were equally imbued.
She stripped as soon as she entered the suite and put everything in a laundry bag. A long, hot shower was the next thing on her to-do list, but before going into the bathroom she opened her laptop to see if there were any messages. Her phone had been quiet during dinner, which surprised her, because if nothing else she thought Fai would have called or texted. Instead she had emailed.
Andy has organized a dinner in the countryside for cast and crew. We’re going by bus and I don’t expect to be back at the hotel until very late. He has given us the day off tomorrow to compensate for what will be a boozy evening. I’ll call you in the morning once I’m in shape. Love you, miss you. Fai
Ava replied. I just got back to my hotel after dinner at a famous hotpot restaurant. I feel like I’ve been dipped in chili oil so I’m just about to jump in the shower — although showers aren’t close to being the same when you aren’t having one with me. Talk to you in the morning. Love, Ava
Fifteen minutes later she emerged from the bathroom in a T-shirt and underpants, with her damp hair wrapped in a towel. The smell of chili oil was gone, replaced by the aroma of Asprey Purple Water shampoo, a Ritz-Carlton amenity. She had drunk only water during dinner and was in the mood for a nightcap. The mini-bar was well stocked; she took out a bottle of Chardonnay, poured
a glass, and sat down at the desk. She opened her notebook at the first page, then slowly tracked her progress. It hadn’t been a smooth journey, but she liked where she was. Even if May, Howell, and Derek didn’t deliver, she had Su Na firmly in her sights, and with the assistance of Han and his gang Ava couldn’t imagine that Su would be able to avoid dealing with her.
She also had the password for the Jewellery Circle account at the Mercantile Bank, which would give her access to the next large deposit when it was made. Jasmine had promised to call her when money was due to arrive, but Ava made a mental note to check the account herself every day in case Jasmine had a change of heart. That money wouldn’t come close to covering what was stolen, but it might help make the Gregory family whole, and that, after all, had been her initial goal.
Ava closed the notebook, poured another glass of wine, and went into the bathroom to dry her hair. It had been a long day, and she suddenly felt tired. She turned off the hair dryer, drained her glass, and headed to the bedroom. After removing six pillows from the king-size bed, leaving her with two, she crawled under the white duvet. She was asleep in seconds.
For once she didn’t dream, or at least she had no memory of dreaming when she woke at seven to go to the bathroom. As she was thinking about returning to bed, her phone rang. Still half asleep, she stared at it until the fourth ring brought her into the present. She looked at the screen and was suddenly alert.
“Hey,” she said.
“I know it’s early where you are, but you did tell me to call if I found anything,” said Derek.
“Did you manage to hack into Evans Trust?”
“Not quite — they have a very strong security system. But I did manage to find a bug in their database that was open to exploitation. I wasn’t able to get into their financial records, but I did find their articles of incorporation, and I thought that might be of interest,” Derek said. “The CEO is a guy named Ronald Evans. He has an address in Tulsa, Oklahoma.”
“Sammy Rogers went to a bible college in Oklahoma,” Ava said quickly.
“I’m coming to that,” Derek said.
“Sorry. Go on.”
“I looked into Evans. He’s a lawyer in Tulsa. The other two names in the articles of incorporation are employees of the same law firm. When I investigated the firm, what did I find?” Derek said, and paused dramatically. “It has two major clients: Blackstone Simmons and the Simmons Christian Ministry.”
“SCM must be the initials of the Simmons Christian Ministry,” Ava said.
“That’s what it sure as hell looks like,” Derek said.
“And the Simmons family and Sammy Rogers are tight.”
“We know that’s true.”
Ava recalculated what she knew about the flow of money. “I bet Evans and his people are holding shares in trust. Like Jasmine Yip, they’re just a front for the people who actually run the business. I’d give anything to find out who authorizes transfers from the Evans Trust account to Golden Emperor on behalf of ScM, and to the Jewellery Circle account at the Mercantile Bank.”
“I’ll try to get into the system again. But Ava, I’m not very confident I’ll succeed,” Derek said. “Do you think Simmons and Rogers are partners in this?”
“It seems obvious they’re co-operating with each other at some level, but they also appear to be keeping their money separate. If they were partners, why would they each have their own bank account, and why would they be operating two different companies?”
“On that point, I noticed that Evans Trust was incorporated more than two years before Muir even started the Harvest Investment Fund.”
“Which suggests that Blackstone Simmons found a way to make a lot of money that didn’t involve fleecing his congregation, and either he or his son Randy told Rogers about it. Maybe Rogers is just piggybacking on their idea and using the system they established.”
“You seem very confident that Rogers is involved.”
“If he isn’t, then it means Patrick Cunningham conceived and executed this operation himself. On the surface I don’t think that’s likely. And if we’re right that SCM does stand for Simmons Christian Ministry, Rogers would have been their first point of contact, not Cunningham or Muir.”
“This is all so unbelievable.”
“It’s strange and very complicated, but to me it’s entirely believable,” Ava said. “In any event, we’ll know the truth soon enough.”
Derek sighed. “I’m going to take the baby for a walk. It will help clear my head. When I get back, I’ll start digging again.”
“You’ve already been a huge help,” she said. “Kiss Amber for me.”
After Derek hung up, Ava remained seated on the edge of the bed. Her mind was so active she knew she wouldn’t be able to sleep. If SCM was the Simmons Christian Ministry — and she didn’t doubt that it was — that explained Evans Trust and the warehouse that Jewellery Circle shared with SCM. What it didn’t prove was that they were partners in a business. From Ava’s viewpoint, it was better that they weren’t, because it would be easier to focus on Harvest Table. It was the money they’d stolen that she was after, not money that originated from God knows where in the United States.
She made an espresso, sat down at the desk, and opened her notebook to the chart she had started constructing to visually lay out the web of people, banks, and companies involved. She had Muir, the Amsterdam bank, Jasmine Yip, Fozdar, diamond cutters in Guangzhou, the Mercantile Bank, Su Na, Golden Emperor MicroLab, Patrick and Essie Cunningham, Evans Trust, and the SCM warehouse. Now she added Sammy Rogers with a question mark next to his name and contemplated whether she should include the Simmons family. She shook her head. As she looked at all the interconnecting lines she decided it was convoluted enough. Still, she couldn’t ignore Simmons.
She opened the laptop, entered “Simmons Christian Ministry,” and accessed the ministry’s website. She scanned the banner and then hit “Board of Directors.” The board was charted like a pyramid, with a photo of Blackstone Simmons — looking like a distinguished and successful banker — at its peak. Beneath him were two former politicians whose names Ava recognized, plus Ronald Evans. On the lowest level were Randy Simmons, three people identified as heads of corporations, and two doctors of unidentified disciplines.
She closed that tab and switched to one titled “Corporate Team.” It was a large group, with the senior Simmons again at the top of the heap as CEO, Randy listed as the COO, and Ronald Evans identified as corporate legal counsel. Ava didn’t recognize any other name, although she noticed that a John Kelsey was vice-president of foreign missions. She made a note of his name, returned to the banner, and saw a tab for foreign missions. She opened it and read a statement of objectives that was eerily similar to the one included in the Harvest Investment Fund prospectus. Simmons Foreign Missions were committed to bringing education, better health, and the word of Jesus to those most in need around the world.
She scrolled down the page until she came to a list of missions. Two things surprised her. First, there were supposedly thirty-one missions at work; second, between Burundi and Djibouti in the alphabetical list was Chengdu, China. Ava searched the site for more specific information about the mission in Chengdu, but found nothing. Regardless, there was now a confirmed link between the Simmons ministry and Chengdu.
Ava made another espresso and stared down at the city square, which was slowly welcoming the day. She contemplated what the morning might have in store for her. She hoped she would hear from Todd Howell and May Ling before going to the warehouse. She hoped even more strongly that Su Na would be at the warehouse when she got there.
Ava checked the time. If Lu was as efficient as Lop, he would scout the warehouse at nine as promised and be ready to act soon. She wanted to be ready to go when he called. If she showered and dressed quickly, she would still have time for breakfast. As she was deciding how to construct her m
orning, her phone rang. Thinking it would be May Ling or Todd Howell, she answered without looking at the incoming number.
“Good morning, this is Lu.”
“I didn’t expect to hear from you so soon,” Ava said.
“I’m an early riser, and when there’s a job to be done, I’m always anxious to get at it.”
Yet another Lop trait, she thought, and then asked, “Have your men reported from the warehouse?”
“I decided to go myself. I’m sitting in front of it right now. The guards changed shifts half an hour ago. Ten new guards arrived in a minivan. Two of them are at the gate and there are eight in and around the building,” Lu said. “Five minutes after the guards got here, a woman arrived in a Mercedes. The guards saluted her. I don’t think it’s a stretch to assume she’s the woman you’re looking for.”
Ava tried to restrain a burst of excitement. “Will the guards be a problem?”
“That depends on their competence and commitment. I’ll have ten of my men here within the next hour, and they’ll be well armed. I’m also bringing a truck in case we have to crash the gate. Oh, and my yuefu wants to take part. Despite his age and position there’s nothing he likes more than a fight.”
“Han has already done so much for me. That isn’t necessary,” Ava said.
“When he says he’s going to do something, there isn’t much point in arguing. The best thing to do is simply say thank you. All that’s left to decide is when you want us to get you into the warehouse.”
“I can be ready to leave the hotel in half an hour.”
“Fine. I’ll call Han and let him know.”
Ava smiled as she put down the phone. This Chengdu gang seemed to be as professional as Xu’s, and that was saying a lot. But she wasn’t going to take anything for granted when it came to her choice of clothes. If she was dragged into a scrap at the warehouse, she wanted to have as much freedom of movement as possible. That meant slacks and flat shoes.
