The Red Pole of Macau

by Ian Hamilton

  Ava took the binoculars. She didn’t recognize them either.

  “So, that’s five of them at least, plus Lok and Wu. There were two more with them the other day that I haven’t seen, so we could be talking nine.”

  They took turns with the binoculars and the camera, but after the men went inside there wasn’t any other activity to record and Ava began to get restless. “How hard is it to find a one-hour photo shop?” she said to Andy.

  “What?”

  “Never mind.”

  She waited another ten minutes and then called Carlo. “Haven’t you found anything yet?”

  “I just did, and it was harder than you think.”

  “Where is it?”

  “Next to the Kingsway Hotel, in Porto Exterior.”

  “Name?”

  “Super Photo.”

  “We’ll be there in less than half an hour.”

  ( 14 )

  They ate in a Portuguese restaurant almost directly across the street from the one-hour shop. Ava had dropped off the camera’s memory card, offering to pay double if she could get two sets of prints in half an hour. Now she waited, in no mood for chit-chat and her appetite not functioning at its usual level. She picked at the bacalao, took a couple of bites of African chicken, and chewed a couple of slices of bread.

  The boys made up for her lack of hunger. Carlo worked as a bookie during the Hong Kong racing season, and Andy loved to play the horses. As they ate, they dissected jockeys, trainers, and the relative merits of post positions at Happy Valley and Sha Tin racetracks. In Hong Kong, horse racing was a national sport. The season lasted only six months, with races on Wednesdays and Sundays, alternating between the two tracks, but when the season was in swing, it was all some people cared about. Every newspaper, every day, was filled with racing news. The television stations covered both the racing and the training sessions.

  They worked through a whole loaf of bread and two servings of salted cod and demolished the chicken. She had always admired their ability to remain focused on the moment, whether it involved horse racing, food, or covering her back. They were arguing about whether the South African Douglas Whyte or the Australian Brett Prebble was going to be jockey of the year, at the same time dipping bread from a second loaf into the chicken sauce, when Ava checked her watch and saw that half an hour was up.

  “I’ll be back,” she said.

  The clerk saw her coming through the door, gave her a broad smile, and pointed to the envelope on the counter. “They were done ten minutes ago. I should get a bonus,” he said.

  She opened it. The photos were good, not great, but the faces were distinct enough. “How much do I owe you?”

  “At the double rate, three hundred.”

  Ava paid him and went back across the street to the restaurant. Carlo and Andy had finished lunch and were smoking. She collected the bill from the table, settled it with the cashier, and then said to the boys, “Outside. I can’t breathe in here.”

  She pulled the photos from the envelope and passed a set to Andy. “Not too bad from that distance,” he said.

  “These are of the three women I saw leaving in the Nissan. Two of them look Russian. I’m sure all three are hookers.”

  “Home delivery service,” Carlo said.

  “Whatever. The thing is, I need you to find at least one of them.”

  “And then what?”

  “I want to talk to her.”

  “How will we arrange that?”

  “I’ll come to her or you can bring her to me, it doesn’t matter.”

  Carlo frowned.

  “What is it?” she asked.

  “These girls normally aren’t very talkative.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Whichever one I find first, if I tell her that you just want to talk to her —”

  “I’ll pay.”

  “She’ll get suspicious as hell, pay or not.”

  “What do you suggest?”

  “I’ll just say I want a good fuck and that a friend recommended her to me.” He looked across the street. “Take a room at the Kingsway and then phone me with the number. I’ll take the girl there. Once she’s in the room you can handle her.”

  Ava nodded. “You seem sure you can find one.”

  “If they’re in Macau, I’ll find at least one.”

  “He knows every mama-san over here,” Andy said. “And there isn’t a whore who operates without one.”

  “If I have a choice, I’d prefer the Chinese one.”

  “Okay, I’ll target her first.”

  “Take Andy with you. I’ll call you with the room number as soon as I have it. Now, do you need any money?”

  Carlo looked offended. “Hey, I won’t have to pay up front.”

  Ava went to the car and retrieved Andy’s carryall, then climbed the ramp to the hotel entrance. The Kingsway was a three-star hotel, part of Stanley Ho’s empire. It wasn’t so fancy that a hooker going through the lobby would be bothered. Ava didn’t think of that until she stood inside the hotel entrance, and wondered if that’s why Carlo had suggested it.

  She asked for a room on the eighth floor, wanting all the luck she could get. To her surprise one was available, a corner suite. She took it. Calling it a suite was a stretch. There was a sitting room and a separate bedroom, but they were small and, even though sparsely furnished, looked cramped. It was furnished in rattan: a couch and two easy chairs with floral cushions in the sitting room and a double bed and three-drawer dresser. The floors were covered in a pale green carpet that felt and smelled new. Ava walked to the window and looked out. The hotel was in old Macau, near the Porto Exterior, and from her window she had a great view of the old town and the new development around the port. She called Carlo. “The Kingsway, room 808,” she said.

  “I’ll phone when I’m on the way.”

  She pulled the cover off the bed and fell onto the clean sheets. She thought about napping, and then Amanda popped into her head. Where was that girl?

  She tried her cell again and this time Amanda answered. “Ava, I’m just leaving the construction company office and it’s very noisy around here. I’ll call you back in a minute.”

  The minute turned into two, and then five. Ava was just beginning to worry when Amanda’s name popped up on her phone screen. “Sorry, he wouldn’t let me go,” Amanda said. “He’s spent the past half hour trying to convince me to build another kind of house, and the hour before he drove me all over Macau looking at examples of his work.”

  “Congratulations — I assume you have the plans.”

  “Plans? I have plans for four different houses. He made me take all of them to show to my husband.”

  “Good girl. Any problems?”

  “I had to spend a hundred dollars at the registry office.”

  “Other than that?”

  “No. It amazes me; I’ve spent my whole life being truthful, and I had no idea that people could accept me for something other than who I am.”

  “Look, we’ll talk when we meet,” Ava said. “I’ve taken a room at the Kingsway Hotel, room 808. It’s on Rua de Luís Gonzaga Gomes, in old Macau, near the port. Come on over.”

  “I’m getting in a taxi right now.”

  Ava lay back on the bed and closed her eyes. They had floor plans, but to what purpose? She thought about the house and inwardly groaned. The only thing the least bit encouraging was its isolation — no neighbours within sight or hopefully within hearing distance. Other than that, it was a son of bitch, a complete son of a bitch.

  She dozed, waking with a start at the rapping on the door. She blinked, not sure where she was.

  “Ava, it’s Amanda.”

  Ava got up and opened the door. Amanda stood there, a cardboard tube stuck under her arm, construction dust in her hair and coating her shoes. “Here —
the fruits of my lies and a hundred dollars,” she said.

  “Money well spent and lies well told,” Ava said.

  “Thanks, I think.”

  “You need to wash,” Ava said, reaching for the tube.

  “I know, and I’m parched and hungry.”

  “Those things are easy to fix.”

  Amanda walked past Ava. “Why did you take a room here?”

  “We’re waiting for a hooker.”

  ( 15 )

  The house had seventeen rooms — not counting four and a half bathrooms — each of them neatly designated by the builder, although Ava knew that meant nothing if Lok had decided a den could become a bedroom and a bedroom a den.

  The front door led into a foyer. To its right were a dining room and kitchen and to its left a living room and the den. A stairway to the far left ran at an angle to the second floor, where an open mezzanine overlooked the lower level. Lok probably hired someone to do feng shui, she thought. There were five bedrooms on the second floor and two full bathrooms.

  Also on the left, at one end of the den, was a door that led into the windowless wing Ava had seen from Coloane Peak. The wing had a corridor with four rooms and two full bathrooms on each side. It looked exactly like her old university dormitory, and it seemed to have just the one door, no other way in or out.

  The top floor had no details. The diagram showed open space that could be accessed by a small set of stairs at the right side of the second-floor corridor. She checked the date on the drawings and saw they were eight years old. That floor could have been converted into anything.

  Amanda sat at the coffee table drinking mango juice and wolfing down a plate of nasi goreng while Ava went over the plans.

  The same contractor had built the walls. They were stone, a metre thick and six metres in height — higher than Ava had thought. He’d installed the gate as well, and it had a name: the Citadel Anti-ram Security Gate. Anti-ram. Ava wasn’t happy to read that description.

  She searched for information on the cameras, the electric wire, and whatever other security measures had been built into the place. There weren’t any, which wasn’t surprising. She leafed through the documents Amanda had gotten at the registry office to see if a name was recorded there. Again she came up empty. Given what she knew already, she had no doubt that Lok had built in some extras. Finding who had done them wasn’t going to be easy, and getting them to share the information was going to be even harder.

  Ava had felt Amanda staring at her as she looked at the plans, and she fought to keep her body language neutral.

  “Is it what you needed, what you expected?” Amanda asked as Ava rolled up the drawings before putting them back in the tube.

  “Exactly. You couldn’t have done better.”

  “So now what?”

  “We wait here for a while.”

  “Why?”

  “Carlo and Andy are out looking for another piece of information. I expect to hear from them soon. If you want to go out for a walk or do some shopping, feel free. I’ll call you when we’re ready to go back to Hong Kong.”

  “I’ll stay here, if you don’t mind.”

  “I don’t.”

  “And I’m tired. Would you mind if I lie down?”

  Ava sat at the window, binoculars scanning the street, just killing time. She peeped periodically at Amanda, who seemed to be sleeping. She’d done well, but Ava was beginning to regret involving her. She was accustomed to working with men like Derek, Carlo, and Andy, people who knew her and with whom she didn’t have to care how she acted. She didn’t want to be constrained by concerns about how Amanda might react to any given situation. She didn’t want to be constrained at all.

  She saw Carlo before he phoned her. He was two blocks away, the Chinese girl by his side. Andy trailed them, looking around, always attentive. She saw him reach for his phone and smiled. He motioned for Andy and the girl to go ahead while he made his call. Ava focused on the hooker’s face: puffy eyes, tired, bored. She’d probably been hauled out of bed by her mama-san. She was wearing jeans and a T-shirt from Hong Kong Disneyland.

  “Where are you?” she asked when her phone rang.

  “A few blocks from the hotel.”

  “I think you have the Chinese girl.”

  “Good guess.”

  “I bet she’s wearing jeans this time of day, right?”

  “Yep.”

  “And a tee?”

  “Don’t rag me, Ava.”

  “Disneyland?”

  “We’ll be there in five minutes,” he said, laughing.

  “If you have any problems with Security, call me.”

  “It’s the Kingsway, not the Peninsula.”

  She waited a full five minutes and then went to the door to wait. She’d love for Amanda to sleep through her chat with the hooker. The elevator doors finally opened and the trio meandered towards the room. Ava swung the door open as they got close. The woman saw her, stopped, took two steps back, and said, “I don’t do women.”

  “And I don’t want to be done,” Ava said.

  Carlo grabbed her by the elbow and propelled her forward. “Relax, this isn’t what you think.”

  When they entered the room, Ava opened the bathroom door and guided the woman into it. “Keep quiet — Amanda is sleeping,” she said to the boys. “If she wakes, try not to alarm her. And keep her away from the bathroom.”

  Then she turned to the woman. “Don’t be scared. I just need to talk to you.”

  “What the fuck is this?”

  Ava closed the bathroom door, sat on the side of the bathtub, and pointed to the toilet. “Take a seat.”

  “What the fuck is this?”

  “What’s your name?”

  “Fay.”

  “Fay, how much did you expect to earn this afternoon?”

  “Two thousand Hong Kong.”

  “I’m going to give you five thousand, and you can keep your clothes on.”

  The woman looked at the door. “Don’t think about it,” Ava said. “You don’t want to mess with me, and if you somehow made it out there, the boys would take care of you.”

  “What do you want?”

  “Just some information.”

  “About what? I don’t know anything that’s worth five thousand.”

  “You’d be surprised.”

  “What the fuck is this about?”

  “Kao Lok.”

  The woman raised her eyebrows. “That creep?”

  “Yes. Now do you see how easy this is going to be?”

  “Five thousand, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “What do you want to know?”

  Ava said, “Not so fast. You need to understand the rules first.”

  “Rules?”

  “They’re very simple. I’m going to ask you some questions and you’re going to give me complete and honest answers. Where it gets tricky is that as far as the rest of the world knows — and that includes mama-san, your girlfriends, your boyfriends — this conversation never took place. No one, and I mean no one, is to hear even a whisper, because if they do, Fay, I’ll send the boys next door to find you and punish you.”

  Fay leaned against the back of the toilet. Through the binoculars at Lok’s house, Ava would have guessed she was in her mid-twenties. Up close, her face looked worn, small lines etched into the bags under her eyes, the skin along her jawline beginning to sag. She’s in her mid-thirties for sure, Ava thought. Maybe even early forties.

  “Do you mind if I smoke?” the woman asked.

  “Actually, I do.”

  “Then let’s get this over with. I know how to keep my mouth shut.”

  “I saw you leave Lok’s this morning. How often have you been there?”

  “I can’t count.”

  “That ma
ny?”

  “I’m a regular. Wu has a thing for me.”

  “For how long?”

  “At least three years.”

  “Good. Now just wait a minute while I get something,” Ava said, standing up.

  The woman’s eyes grew large, and Ava knew she’d frightened her. “It’s a floor plan of Lok’s house, that’s all,” she said.

  “The castle, you mean.”

  “Castle?”

  “That’s what we call it.”

  “I’ll be right back,” Ava said.

  Amanda was still sleeping. The two boys stood at the window, Carlo with the binoculars fixed on a smaller hotel across the street. Ava opened the cardboard tube and extracted the floor plans. The boys didn’t even turn around as she headed back into the bathroom.

  She spread the drawing across the bathroom sink and counter. “Come and look at this, please,” she said.

  When the woman was right next to her, Ava could smell the mixed remnants of perfume, sweat, and sex. “Couldn’t you have showered?”

  “I was told to move my ass, so that’s what I did.”

  Ava sighed and passed a pen over the plans. “Okay, this drawing is eight years old. I need you to look at it and tell me if there have been any big changes. For example, there is a kitchen and dining room here on the right — is that still the case?”

  “Yeah.”

  “How about the other side, with the den and living room?”

  “It’s one big room, that’s all. Lots of couches and throw cushions and a huge high-definition television. That’s where the guys hang out.”

  “And here,” Ava said, moving the pen to the wing. “This is where some of the guys sleep?”

  “Yeah.”

  “How many?”

  “It’s always changing. I’ve seen as few as three and I’ve seen the entire house filled with them.”

  “How many is ‘filled’?”

  “Fourteen, fifteen . . . I’m not sure.”

  “How many last night?”

  “I think there were seven.”

  “Does that include Lok and Wu?”

  “No, just the guys.”