The Red Pole of Macau

by Ian Hamilton

  “He was emotionally unstable then. He seems better now.”

  “Let’s hope so,” Amanda said as the elevator doors opened.

  When they got to the lobby, Ava asked, “Taxi or mtr?”

  “The mtr takes only thirty minutes and their apartment is right behind New Town Plaza in Sha Tin, no more than a ten-minute walk from the station.”

  They chatted as they walked to the Central mtr station. Amanda had called Jessie just after Ava left the apartment to meet with Uncle, and she had been more upset than she had let on to Michael. Jessie was convinced that Simon was either blowing his brains out gambling in Macau or had shacked up with another woman. Amanda had nothing to offer her but gentle assurances. Jessie had calmed down a little when Amanda said that Michael hadn’t come home either, and that she was sure the boys were trying to close some business deal.

  The train was packed and they couldn’t get seats. Even standing, they were soon separated by a continual inflow of passengers fighting for every vacant inch. Ava couldn’t comprehend how people could do this twice a day, every day.

  The train had just pulled out of Central when Ava’s cell rang. She couldn’t get to it, her arms pinned to her sides. A moment later Amanda’s cellphone was going off. Ava watched her struggle to get to her purse to remove it. It stopped ringing before she could.

  At Sha Tin the train half emptied, the two women swept along with the throng. They both reached for their phones as soon as they had room to move. “It’s Michael,” Amanda said, listening to her voicemail. “Four days . . . Lok gave him four days.”

  Ava called him from the station platform. “Great work. Four days is good, but is that four days from today or from tomorrow?”

  “We never actually discussed that.”

  “In that case we’re going to assume it’s from tomorrow. Was he okay about sending the photos every day?”

  “Yeah.”

  “And how was he otherwise?”

  “Actually quite co-operative. He didn’t even go off on me when I told him I needed more time.”

  “He’s got his head in the money now,” Ava said. “He’s not going to do anything that’ll screw up his chances of getting paid.”

  Michael went quiet. Ava knew exactly what he was thinking, and before he could speak again she said, “I’m working on some options. The money is only one of them.”

  “How the hell can you get that kind of money? And even if you can, how are we going to pay you back?” he said.

  “It’s one option. You’ve bought us all some time, so let me use it.”

  Ava felt Amanda staring at her as she spoke to her brother. She ended the call and said, “Now, how do we get to Jessie’s?”

  They inched their way out of the station and then inched their way to New Town Plaza. At one time it had been the biggest mall in the New Territories, with more than fifty acres of shopping space in a nine-storey structure. Amanda led Ava through the maze to the back exit and right into a wall of apartment towers.

  As they walked, Ava talked about how to handle Jessie. “We have to be upbeat, positive. The boys are involved in a business dispute in Macau, pure and simple. As a sign of good faith, Simon and Michael offered to have one of them stay there until the money that is owed is paid. Simon insisted it be him, so now Michael is back in Hong Kong organizing the money. He should have it transferred to Macau in a few days. It’s a bit unusual, but that’s the way business is often done over there. The really good news is that the deal seems to be back on track.”

  “Do you really think she’ll buy that?” Amanda asked.

  “That depends on how well you spin it.”

  “Me?”

  “Hey, I’m a stranger. I don’t have any credibility with this woman. Why should she believe anything I have to say? You’re the one she knows and trusts — her husband’s partner’s girlfriend.”

  “I’m not a very good liar.”

  Ava stopped walking, reached for Amanda’s arm, and turned her so she could see her face. “You are not lying, and you have to convince yourself of that before you can convince her. You’re doing a little bit of shading, using gentler semantics, but the message is essentially true, is it not? He is being held in Macau. We are organizing the money. He will be home in a few days. What more is there to say? Just avoid loaded words like ransom or hostage.”

  “When you put it that way —”

  “There is no other way to put it. And one more thing: lead with the bad news. Don’t try to ease into it. It should just be ‘Jessie, Simon is stuck in Macau for a few days over a business dispute, but we’ll have him home by Friday.’”

  “She’ll want to talk to him.”

  “I know, but you’ll have to be firm about the fact that he can’t talk to anyone, not even Michael, until the deal is finalized. Again, try to keep it low-key, make it sound like the natural course of business in Macau. If you can, Amanda, try to raise the topic of communication before she can ask the question — be proactive. And, of course, you’re going to have to tell her that she can’t talk about this with anyone, not her mother or her siblings or any of their friends. Say that you’re under the same restrictions, that the deal requires this level of confidentiality. She can always call you, night or day, right?”

  “Right.”

  “If you’re calm and in control, she’ll absorb it.”

  “I believe you.”

  “Can you do it?”

  “I think so.”

  “I think you can too.”

  The building wasn’t quite what Ava had expected: gritty, mid-grade security in the lobby in a small office with a plastic shield, two elevators for thirty floors, and notices from debt collectors plastered on the walls. The notices were a standard Hong Kong debt collection technique, naming the debtor and the amount owed and making ugly references to his or her character as a way of shaming them in public, in front of friends and neighbours.

  “Shabby,” Ava said.

  “They bought it when they were first married. Jessie’s mother lives one floor below them, and she babysits. Simon wants to move but Jessie says this is too convenient to give up.”

  They waited forever for an elevator, and if Jessie hadn’t lived on the twentieth floor, Ava would have walked.

  She lived at the end of the corridor, a metal grille fronting the door. Amanda pushed the buzzer and the door opened. Jessie flew into Amanda’s arms, knocking her backwards. Behind them Ava saw a short, round woman with a baby in her arms and a suspicious look on her face. The resemblance between her and Jessie was unmistakeable. Ava knew there was no way the conversation would take place without her.

  “Hey, take it easy, Jessie. There’s absolutely nothing to be worried about. Everything is fine, just fine,” Amanda said.

  It took an hour, two coffees for Ava, two pots of tea for the others, a plate of biscuits, and the same story repeated almost word for word four or five times before Jessie began to accept that things were fine, that they were being managed and there was no need to panic. As Amanda talked to Jessie, Ava tried to engage her mother with smiles of encouragement and direct eye contact. By the time they were ready to leave, the mother was weighing in too, telling Jessie not to be such a worrier.

  As Amanda again emphasized to Jessie the need for discretion, Ava said to the mother, “This applies to you too, Auntie. You need to keep this secret. Simon and Michael stand to make a lot of money, and we don’t want to mess it up.”

  They left the apartment in a flurry of hugs and kisses. As they walked to the elevator Ava could see that Amanda was very pleased with herself.

  “You’ll need to call her at least twice a day,” Ava said. “Try to call at the same times so she comes to expect it. You’ll need to keep reinforcing everything you said in there, because Jessie won’t be able to keep from getting anxious and you’ll have to stop it from getti
ng out of control. So twice a day — more, if you can do it.”

  “Okay.”

  They waited for the elevator, Amanda peering at Ava. “How did I do?”

  Ava said, “I’m proud of you. How’s that?”

  “That’s just absolutely fine.”

  Amanda talked for the entire mtr ride back to Central. Ava nodded, pretending to listen, her mind miles away as she tried to organize the day ahead.

  “You’ll come back to the apartment. We can go out for dinner,” Amanda said as they pulled into the Central mtr station.

  “No, I have too much to do. I’m going to the hotel. You spend the evening with Michael. And, Amanda, make sure to tell him I don’t want him discussing any of this with our father, and I’d prefer it if you kept your father in the dark as well.”

  “I’ll do that,” Amanda said as they exited the train.

  “Tell him as well that he needs to check his email tomorrow at noon for the photo. I’ll phone him around twelve fifteen to confirm that he got it.”

  “All right.”

  “And that’s it,” Ava said.

  They climbed the stairs from the mtr platform to the street. Ava turned to leave and saw that Amanda looked reluctant to go home. Ava said, “Amanda, I really do have things to do.”

  “Okay, I’m going, I’m going,” she said, and still didn’t move.

  Then an idea Ava had had on the train revisited her. “Do you have plans for tomorrow?” she asked.

  “Work in my father’s office, that’s all.”

  “Can you get the day off?”

  “Sure.”

  “Then meet me at the Macau Ferry terminal at ten o’clock.”

  “Macau?”

  “I’ll explain in the morning.”

  “Do I tell Michael I’m going?”

  “Better not. No need to worry him.”

  “Okay.”

  “And, Amanda, do you have a briefcase?”

  “Of course.”

  “Bring it. Put some papers in it — it doesn’t matter what they are.”

  “This is getting a little weird now, Ava.”

  “You don’t have to do it.”

  “I’ll be there, I’ll be there.”

  “One last thing: dress down a bit, skip the stilettos, and look professional — middle-class if you can — and cut back on the makeup.”

  “What’s wrong with my makeup?”

  “It makes you look five years older. You have beautiful skin; you don’t need that guck.”

  “God, what next, ditch my padded bra?”

  “Actually, if you have one with even more padding, throw it on.”

  “Are you serious?”

  “Not really,” Ava said, kissing her on the cheek. “See you in the morning.”

  Ava walked back to the hotel, glad to be alone. The day had started with her drafting an offer sheet to help them save their business; it was going to end with her trying to figure out how to keep Simon To alive.

  ( 13 )

  She went to bed early and slept well. She had placed a wake-up call for six, and by six forty-five she had had two coffees, read the International Herald Tribune, and was on the mtr to the Causeway Bay station and Victoria Park.

  She got there just early enough to get in five quick laps before the morning crowd arrived to clog the jogging track. She took that as a good omen.

  The night before she’d figured out how to structure the day; the only thing she hadn’t done was organize a car rental. She stopped at the front desk on the return from her run and asked the concierge to make the arrangements.

  She showered and put on a black T-shirt and her training pants and jacket. She normally didn’t wear a hat, but she knew she could be out in the sun for most of the day, and took her Adidas baseball cap out of her bag. She didn’t want to lug around her Chanel purse or her notebook, so she ripped out some pages and put them in her jacket pocket with two pens. Her passport, Hong Kong ID card, driver’s licence, and a wad of U.S. hundred-dollar bills went into the other pocket.

  She looked at herself in the mirror. No beauty queen, she thought.

  Ava ate breakfast downstairs at Café Causette. She ordered plain black coffee and congee with abalone and read the South China Morning Post. She paid special attention to the front page. Hopefully it would be popping up on Michael’s computer screen at noon.

  At the terminal she first saw the two boys off to the side, standing close together, smoking as if their lives depended on it. Carlo was the bigger of the two at about five foot six and 140 pounds; Andy was an inch shorter and ten pounds lighter. The last time she had seen Carlo he had a moustache; now his upper lip was as bare as his shaved head. They were wearing T-shirts, and Ava kicked herself for not telling them to wear long-sleeved shirts. Both of Andy’s arms were covered in tattoos; Carlo had only one arm decorated, but a dragon’s tail wrapped itself around his collarbone and neck. Ava had never seen the actual dragon’s head that she knew was situated somewhere on his chest.

  They waved, greeting her less formally than at their last meeting, in Las Vegas. They were on their home turf and not so nervous. Andy had a carryall with him.

  Amanda was at the gate that led to the ferry gangplank. She was wearing flat shoes, white linen slacks, and an unadorned navy blue silk blouse that still looked as if it had cost two thousand Hong Kong dollars. She held a Louis Vuitton briefcase that wasn’t much bigger than a sheet of paper. The girl couldn’t look middle-class if she tried, Ava thought.

  With her baseball cap on, Ava got to within five metres of Amanda before she was recognized. “Hey,” Amanda said, suddenly awkward as she took in Ava’s clothes.

  “Hey, yourself.”

  “Am I overdressed?”

  “No, you’re perfect,” Ava said. “Now come and meet Carlo and Andy.”

  Amanda’s reaction when she saw the boys wasn’t much different from Ava’s the first time a gun was waved in her face.

  “This is Amanda. She’s my brother’s fiancée,” Ava said, emphasizing the relationship particularly to Carlo, who fancied himself a ladies’ man and was always prepared to give it a go, regardless of the likelihood of rejection. “And these are Carlo and Andy,” she said to Amanda. “They’ve worked with me before, and I trust them with my life.”

  The boys smiled at the compliment. Amanda looked a little less uneasy but stayed close to Ava.

  Ava bought tickets with an open return, and they hustled down the corridor to catch the ten-fifteen jetfoil. She told the boys to sit in a separate row, as she wanted to talk to Amanda. As always, they did what was asked and took no offence.

  “So, how’s Michael?” Ava began. Amanda seemed distracted, her attention still on the boys. “Hey, get over it,” Ava said. “Everyone does silly things when they’re young. They have tattoos but they’re good guys; they don’t bite.”

  “Sorry, it was just a bit of a shock. I mean, I wasn’t expecting anyone else.”

  “Well, there they are, so get used to them. Besides, you won’t be spending much time with them anyway,” Ava said. “Now, about Michael?”

  “He was suspicious as anything this morning.”

  “You didn’t tell him you were going to Macau, did you?”

  “No, of course not. I told him I had a meeting in Aberdeen, and I even called my office and gave them the same story in case he calls for me there. But I was still a bit jumpy. And I usually leave for work earlier and I don’t normally wear this kind of shoes, and of course there’s the makeup.”

  “Looks good, by the way. I mean, less makeup.”

  “Thanks. Michael actually said the same thing.”

  “How is his mood?”

  “He seemed pleased enough when I told him about the meeting with Jessie last night. I know he was worried about her.”

  �
�Did you tell him about Marcus?”

  “I did. No problem — he doesn’t feel like telling him anything anyway.”

  “And he’s going to check his computer at noon for the photo?”

  “He said he would, and I told him to call you when it arrived.”

  “Did he ask you what I was doing today?”

  “I said you were trying to organize the money and that you’d be calling him later.”

  “Good, that’s just about right,” Ava said.

  Amanda tensed, and Ava knew something was bothering her. “What’s the matter?” she asked.

  “I didn’t really know how much money was involved until last night. I mean, it never came up in any discussion. When Michael told me I almost fell over.”

  “Don’t worry about it. I have it under control.”

  Amanda seemed to be gathering herself to ask more questions, but Ava cut her off. “Did you call Jessie this morning?”

  “No, but I called her last night at ten o’clock and we chatted for about ten minutes. She was a bit anxious at first, but I repeated what I’d said earlier and it seemed to work. I told her I’d call her every day at one and every night at ten.”

  “Structure gives comfort,” Ava said.

  “So I’m realizing.”

  “Now today is going to be a bit unstructured, unfortunately, but I think you’re up to it.”

  “What are we going to be doing?”

  “Not we — you,” Ava said. “I have some things to do with Andy. Carlo has a project of his own and you have your own job.”

  “Alone?” Amanda said.

  “Relax, I don’t want you to rob a bank or anything.” She reached into her jacket pocket and pulled out a slip of paper on which she’d written the address of the house in Coloane and the address of the Macau land registry office. “This is where Kao Lok lives. I need you to go to the registry office and ask to see the actual registration documents. It isn’t an uncommon request; real estate agents do it all the time. If they question you, just tell them you’re thinking of making an offer on the property and you want to confirm some particulars.