The Imam of Tawi-Tawi

by Ian Hamilton

  “As long as that happens because of facts and as long as I’m given some notice, I can’t object.”

  “Then, until we talk again,” Dulles said.

  “He’s different,” Ava said, as she and Poirier watched Dulles leave the bar.

  “What he is is reliable.”

  “Then why is he in Manila until ‘things settle down’ — I think that’s the phrase you used earlier?”

  “He ran a special operations unit out of Bangkok that encompasses Thailand, Laos, Cambodia, Myanmar, and northern Malaysia.”

  “Drugs?”

  “Yes.”

  “So what happened?”

  “He worked closely with the Thai military and placed quite a bit of trust in them. When a new president was elected about six months ago, the military came to him and said that the president wanted to wage war against the local drug kingpins. They asked him for the names of the three biggest and swore that’s where it would end. He gave them the three names. The military arrested them, tortured them, and came up with more names, which led to more names, and so on and so on. By the time it ended, they had executed more than three thousand people they were convinced were connected to the drug trade. As it turned out, a few of the dead were CIA or DEA agents, or their paid informants. Alasdair is not loved in Thailand right now.”

  “And he’s the guy you chose to involve in this?”

  “I’ve always been able to count on him. What else can I say, except to add that he’s in need of redemption.”

  “Who isn’t?”

  ( 21 )

  Ryan Poirier stayed to review the bank information and make sure he had the names correct. “I’m going to get started on this right away, and I’ll be surprised if Alasdair doesn’t spend the rest of the evening working things through from his end,” he said.

  “So you think it went well?” Ava asked.

  “From your viewpoint, I don’t see how it could have gone any better.”

  They left the Bar together and headed towards the elevator. Ava paused as they passed the entrance to Old Manila. “I need something to eat and the restaurant’s still open. Do you want to join me?” she asked.

  “No, but thank you,” he said.

  “Then I’ll hear from you later or, most probably, tomorrow?”

  “I would expect tomorrow,” he said. “Have a good night.”

  The restaurant was fifteen minutes from closing, and the staff didn’t seem particularly pleased to see her. “Is the kitchen still open?” Ava asked.

  “I think so,” the hostess said without enthusiasm.

  “All I want is a salad. Can they manage that?”

  “Of course,” she said.

  After a Caesar salad with shrimp and another glass of wine, Ava went back to her room. She showered, put on a clean T-shirt and underwear, and sat at the desk. There were no emails marked “urgent” from either May Ling or Amanda, and no others that seemed to demand her attention. She checked her phone in case she’d missed a call, and when she saw there were none, she headed for bed. She plugged the charger into the wall and placed the phone, its volume set at the highest level, on the bedside table.

  She lay on her side with her back to the phone. Her mind was still churning, and despite what had arguably been a day of progress, her dominating mood was anxiety, especially when she thought about the scope of what she’d been dragged into. Her priority, she told herself, was to find out what she could and simply pass the information along.

  She was just turning over when the phone rang. She stared at it, uncertain who could be calling. “Yes?” she said.

  “It’s Ryan. I’ve just finished speaking to Alasdair, and we have some news.”

  “So fast?” she said, sitting up.

  “Looking into people’s lives is what we do for a living, and since 9/11 we’ve all become better at it,” he said. “Everything moves so damn quickly there are times I wish it would slow down, but this isn’t one of them.”

  “What do you have?”

  “We’ve managed to confirm that someone named Fileeb al-Touma opened the Zakat bank accounts in both Saudi Arabia and Jordan,” he said. “We haven’t been able to get any real details about him or locate him — or anyone named Kassab or Tariq al-Bashir — in any of our systems, and our friends overseas can’t find them either. We’re assuming the names are bogus, but al-Touma’s paperwork had to be first-rate for him to open those accounts, so we’re most likely dealing with professionals.”

  “Is there an address attached to the accounts?”

  “Yes, both have the same Riyadh address. It’s already been checked and it’s an empty office with a sign on the door that reads ‘Zakat Foundation’ and a phone that no one answers. It was too late to speak to people working in the adjacent offices, but the Mabahith will do that tomorrow. Who knows, al-Touma might have made an appearance there.”

  “Are both accounts active?”

  “The Saudi one was opened first. The banker in Bongao was correct when he said the money used to fund the school’s construction came from it, but it’s now basically dormant and has only about ten thousand dollars in it. The Jordanian account was opened just over a year ago, and it’s the active one. There have been monthly wire transactions to the Philippines, which you already knew about, but the account has also been accumulating a tidy balance. There’s almost a million dollars in it.”

  Ava slid from the bed and went to the desk. She opened her notebook. “Ryan, can we get a detailed list from the Jordanian bank of all the transactions attached to that account?”

  “We’ll have it tomorrow.”

  “That’s great, and does that include deposits?”

  “Yes, but that’s where things get a bit strange,” he said. “We were told that all the deposits have been made in cash and all of them made by al-Touma. He seems to go to the bank at least once a week.”

  “Didn’t the bank find that many large cash deposits odd?”

  “Evidently not, and the bank in Riyadh didn’t either, because he did the same thing there.”

  “And there are no restrictions on the size of cash deposits in either country?”

  “If there are, he’s obeyed them, or else someone is turning a blind eye.”

  “So where does this leave us?”

  “In a lot better shape than we were a few hours ago,” Poirier said.

  “Well, at least we know that the foundation and the bank accounts aren’t figments of someone’s imagination.”

  “If we have the slightest bit of luck, we’ll know a lot more than that,” he said. “Alasdair has made arrangements, with the Mukhabarat’s assistance, to interview bank staff tomorrow. We’ve also been given permission to review the bank’s closed-circuit camera records. Al-Touma made those deposits himself, and they’re all time-stamped. We’ll get a look at him and so will the Mukhabarat. If we can’t identify him that way, then we’ll post someone at the bank and wait for him to show up.”

  “As anxious as I am for you to get your hands on him, I’m just as eager to look at the bank records.”

  “Why?”

  “I want to know who paid the travel costs for the students they brought to the Philippines, and who paid what to whom to get them out of the country,” she said. “And if they’ve got all those people in place in the U.S. and elsewhere, who’s supporting them financially?”

  “If we can answer half of those questions, then tomorrow promises to be more of the same.”

  “I’d like to thank you,” Ava said suddenly.

  “For what?”

  “Trusting me enough for you to come here, and for bringing Alasdair Dulles into play. I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t said yes, and looking at what you’ve accomplished in just a few hours leaves me feeling breathless and almost inadequate.”

  “Shit, we wouldn�
�t be here in the first place without you and that web of contacts you have,” Poirier said. “And let me be clear: we both want you to stay involved. Coming from Dulles, that’s quite the compliment — he typically hates amateurs. Truthfully, he doesn’t have much respect for most of his professional colleagues either.”

  “Did you tell him about Surabaya?”

  “I did, in detail, but it was your briefing tonight in the bar that impressed him.”

  The compliment surprised her, and she felt herself blush. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow” was all she could finally think of to say.

  “Ava, you might not be talking to me so much from now on,” he said carefully. “This has a major and immediate impact on the Americans. Alasdair will assume the major role while I fade into the background. In fact, I’m heading back to Jakarta in the morning. Knowing Alasdair, he’ll keep me informed, so that’s not an issue. But I want to make it clear that I’ll be available to you anytime, anywhere. We Canadians have to stick together.”

  “If he’s going to take over, why did he let you make all those contacts in Jordan?”

  “That’s Alasdair being cautious. He wanted to confirm that what you told us has some basis in fact,” Poirier said. “If the information was shit, his name wouldn’t be part of the conversation. If it’s gold, he steps into the picture.”

  “That would bother me, but it doesn’t seem to bother you.”

  “It isn’t personal; it’s the nature of our business,” he said. “And I can tell you honestly that in the past he’s done the same for me.”

  ( 22 )

  She slept for only six hours, but it was a deep, sound sleep without dreams or interruptions, and when she woke she felt an immediate surge of energy. She rolled over, looked at the bedside clock, and saw that it was ten to seven. She smiled as she reached for her phone.

  “Wei,” Pang Fai said.

  “It’s me,” Ava said.

  “Finally. I was getting annoyed that we kept missing each other.”

  “My project here has had me keeping crazy hours.”

  “And this movie is just making me crazy,” Fai said. “We’re only a few days into it and already the crew is fed up about having to tear down and set up every day. This was one of those ideas that sound good in principle and turn out to be absolute crap.”

  “Is there anything you can do to improve the situation?”

  “It might help if I shot the director, but then there would still be the guy from the Chinese Film Syndicate to deal with.”

  “What does he do?”

  “Everything and nothing — the syndicate approved the script and put up the money. The guy who’s here was sent to make sure we don’t change the story and don’t go over budget.”

  “One day you’re going to have to explain to me how that process works.”

  “I’d rather walk on hot coals,” Fai said with a laugh.

  “You know, I could be wrapped up here in a week or so. My offer to meet you somewhere still stands.”

  “I’d love to see you, but it isn’t a good idea. I don’t have any real privacy, and I don’t want to have to pretend that we’re just friends.”

  “Then we’ll stay in touch by phone and text,” Ava said, realizing she was making Fai uncomfortable.

  “Yes. Every day from now on, okay?”

  “Every day.”

  “I love you.”

  “I love you too,” Ava said.

  She sat quietly on the edge of the bed and thought about the different lives she and Fai led. It wasn’t just what they did for a living or the people who surrounded them. There was a cultural divide that Ava was only beginning to understand. She had been raised in what Westerners would consider Chinese culture, but having grown up in Canada, she didn’t have to worry about what people thought or said. The only people she needed to make happy were her family and friends, and even then it was her choice to do so or not. Fai worked in a system that demanded respect and had the means to punish those who resisted. I need to get her to Canada, Ava thought.

  She made a coffee and then sat at the desk. She scanned her emails half-heartedly. Again there weren’t any that caught her attention, and her mind floated back to Pang Fai. Their conversation hadn’t depressed her. On the contrary, it had only stiffened her resolve to help Fai get out of China as soon as possible.

  She put on her running gear and headed downstairs to the fitness centre. It was almost nine o’clock by the time she came back, showered, and got dressed. She wondered how Dulles was doing but didn’t want to seem too pushy by calling him. She didn’t have the same reluctance when it came to Elisha Gill.

  “Are you with your cousin?” Ava asked when Elisha answered.

  “I’m at her office. We’ve been here since seven.”

  “How is it going?”

  “I don’t want to talk about it until we’re completely done. We’ll need another twenty minutes or so.”

  “Will you phone me?”

  “I’d rather come to the hotel with what we have.”

  “Are you okay?” Ava asked, sensing some discomfort in Elisha’s voice.

  “I’ll see you at the hotel.”

  What was that about? Ava thought. Then she realized she hadn’t asked Elisha to make a second set of cards for Dulles. She decided it could wait until she saw her.

  She made another coffee and this time settled in at the computer and went through her inbox more thoroughly. She was just finishing an email to May Ling about another expansion request from Suki Chan, their partner in a Shanghai-based warehouse and logistics company, when the doorbell rang. “Be right there,” she shouted, and a few seconds later hit the Send button.

  Ava walked quickly to the door and opened it. Elisha stood with her head lowered. When she looked up, Ava hardly recognized the pale, drawn face. “What happened to you?” she said.

  Elisha was clutching her handbag and a paper shopping bag against her chest. Ava motioned for her to come into the room. She followed her to the table they had occupied the day before. “Did something happen at the bureau? Did someone object to what you were doing? Was there a confrontation?”

  “No, nothing like that.”

  “Then what?”

  “We ran the passports through the system. We ran all of them, every name and number. We came up with only seven people who had left the Philippines.”

  “You’re not serious.”

  “Seven. And according to the records, six of them left the country about a month after arriving, and one left after two months.”

  “This makes no sense at all,” Ava said. “Was the program working properly? Were the entries confirmed? Were all the possible points of departure included?”

  “After we got the first negative results, Zoey input test data and confirmed that the system was working as it should. Then we double-checked our input and got the same response. And her search was system-wide. It covered every airport and harbour where the bureau has immigration staff, and you obviously can’t leave the islands any other way than by sea or air.”

  “This is the last thing I was expecting.”

  “Me too. I’m in shock,” Elisha said. “Even Zoey was upset. She offered to rerun the numbers tonight when she has some spare time, but I told her I don’t see the value in that.”

  Ava dropped into a chair at the table. “How easy is it to leave the Philippines without clearing Immigration?”

  “That’s the first question I asked her, and evidently it isn’t that difficult, particularly if you go by sea. There’s more than thirty thousand kilometres of coastline and God knows how many ports.”

  “Let’s assume, then, that they did leave by sea,” Ava said, grasping at the only straw she had. “Where is the most likely place they would go?”

  “Zoey pointed out that Bongao is only 240 kilometres from Tawau, a ci
ty in Sabah.”

  “I’ve been to Sabah. It’s a Malaysian province on the island of Borneo.”

  “Yes, and she also mentioned a city called Tarakan. It’s on Borneo as well, but on the Indonesian side, and about three hundred kilometres from Bongao.”

  “It takes only a day-long trip to land in Malaysia or Indonesia,” Ava said. “It’s feasible that they went there and then connected to flights to North America.”

  “One thing that Zoey is confident about is that they didn’t leave the Philippines by air. Even if they used private aircraft, they’d have to file detailed flight plans before leaving our airspace, and private airstrips are closely monitored.”

  Ava shook her head. “We’re going to have to come at this from other angles.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Does Zoey have any good contacts in the Malaysian and Indonesian immigration services?”

  “I’m sure she must. There’s quite a bit of regional coordination.”

  “Can she ask them for some assistance? We need to know if any of these people cleared Immigration in Malaysia or Indonesia over the past twelve months.”

  Elisha took the stack of landing cards from the bag and placed them on the table. “That’s quite a bit to ask of them.”

  “Then pick ten at random. If any of them pop up, we’ll have a reason to pursue the rest.”

  “What excuse can she use?”

  “Let her figure that out.”

  “And are those cities large enough to warrant having immigration services?”

  “Just a second,” Ava said. She went to her computer and entered “Tarakan” and then “Tawau.”

  “Tarakan has a population of about two hundred thousand, and Tawau is only a bit smaller. I’m sure they’ll have immigration staff in both places,” she said.

  “Okay, I’ll ask Zoey.”

  “Now, could you give me what you have on the seven people who did leave?”