by Ian Hamilton
Helga glanced at her husband. Ava knew the look: her mother had used it often enough with her. It said, I told you so.
“How many paintings did you do?” Ava asked.
Sorensen turned and stared at his wife. She was looking into the dining room. Ava could almost see her calculating how much Ava might actually know. Jan Sorensen wasn’t going to say anything, Ava knew. He was waiting for his wife to assume control.
“Mrs. Sorensen, the people I represent are very wealthy. They believe they’ve been cheated and they’ve hired me to find out what happened and to remedy it. They have no interest in pursuing you or your husband. In fact, they’re prepared to pay you if you’ll assist them in getting to the bottom of this. And not only will they pay you, I guarantee that your husband’s name will never be connected to this affair.”
“How much money are you talking about?” Jan said.
His wife shushed him as Ava leapt in. “Twenty thousand.”
“Kroner?”
“Dollars.”
Jan Sorensen started to speak but his wife shushed him again, and this time accompanied it with an elbow into his side. She stared at Ava, searching for a lie.
“We will pay you, and your husband has nothing to fear,” Ava repeated.
Helga Sorensen plucked at the folds of her dress.
She’s calculating, Ava thought. “Money in the bank and absolutely nothing to fear,” she said.
The woman looked at her husband. Ava knew he had been ready to say yes the moment she said twenty thousand. “My husband and I will need to discuss this,” Helga said deliberately. “That is not an admission of anything, you understand. We just need to discuss this.”
“Do you want me to step outside?”
“No, it will take longer than that. Where are you staying? In Torshavn?”
“No, here, at the fisherman’s hotel.”
“Come by in the morning. The children leave for school at eight twenty. Anytime after that.”
“I’ll be here,” Ava said.
Helga Sorensen walked Ava to the door, opened it, and eased her onto the street without saying another word.
The rain was coming down hard now, and Ava was soaked when she got back to the hotel. Nina was still at the desk. “How did it go?” she asked.
“Better than I expected,” Ava said. “It was worth getting wet. Now I just want to jump into a hot shower.”
“I would do it quickly if I were you. The Russians will finish drinking soon and make a dash for the other bathroom and use up the hot water.”
“I’ll beat them to it, then,” Ava said, heading for her room.
She stripped, showered quickly, towelled herself dry, and climbed into bed in panties and a T-shirt. It had been a long day and now she was exhausted. She thought about calling Uncle and decided it was premature. She had met no-nonsense women like Helga before. She was confident she would be able to cut a deal with the Sorensens, but she wanted to have a dollar amount established and she wanted to have a name before phoning Hong Kong.
She was dozing, barely asleep, when she heard noises in the corridor. She thought about putting tissue in her ears when she heard Nina’s voice. At the same time her door handle turned back and forth. Someone was trying to get into her room.
She walked to the door, and as she did, the handle jerked more violently. She heard men’s voices in what sounded like Russian. She stepped back. Then Nina screamed, a mixture of fear and anger. Ava opened the door, took one step into the corridor, and walked almost directly into Nina.
Three men were to her immediate right, staring at Nina, who in turn was glaring at them and gripping an axe.
“We want to use your bathroom,” one of the men said to Ava in English.
“Get away,” Nina said.
The men were in a tight cluster. They began to separate, forming a semicircle around Nina and Ava. Ava thought they looked to be in their late twenties or early thirties. “Nina, back up. Stand next to me,” she said.
As Nina did, the men inched closer. “Please go away,” Ava said.
None of them were that big. One was close to six feet but wiry; he wore a greasy grey T-shirt. The other two were shorter and looked almost scrawny under their thick black woollen sweaters. Even from several feet away she could smell the odour of fish on them. They were grinning at each other and speaking Russian. She saw them looking at her panties. The taller one moved so close that Ava could smell the liquor on his breath.
“What are they saying?” Ava asked Nina.
“I don’t want to repeat it,” she said, gripping the axe tighter.
“Tell me.”
“They’re saying they have never had… never had Chinese cunt.”
“Ah.”
“I’m sorry I said that.”
“Don’t be. I expected it was something like that.”
“I won’t let anything happen,” Nina said, waving the axe.
Ava took another step forward so that she was in front of Nina. “Put that down. I want to look after this without worrying about getting accidently clipped.”
The three men were talking among themselves again. The one to her right laughed and reached out to grab her breast. Ava moved so quickly that his two friends froze as they tried to comprehend why he was on the ground, both hands holding his nose, which was spread across his face and spurting blood.
Before they could react, she took out the tall one, driving a phoenix-eye fist into the top of his belly, where nerve endings are grouped. He convulsed, gagging, as he fell to his knees.
The last one standing yelled something she couldn’t understand and then swung a fist wildly in her direction. She sidestepped him and hammered her middle knuckle into his ear. He collapsed, falling sideways, his head bouncing off the wall and then hitting the floor.
“Good God,” Nina said.
Ava stepped back into the doorway. “Those two will be okay in a while, but I probably broke that one’s nose. He’ll need a doctor.” She stood over the wiry one, the one who had spoken to her in English. “How did you enjoy your Chinese cunt?” she asked.
“Go back into the room,” Nina said. “I’ll get the captain and we’ll clean up this mess.”
Ava stepped into the room and shut the door, turning the lock. She had trouble getting back to sleep. There was lot of commotion in the corridor, but after about half an hour it quieted down. She was finally nodding off when she heard a gentle rap at the door.
“Who’s there?” she asked.
“Nina.”
Ava got up and opened the door. Nina stood there with a bottle of cognac in one hand and two glasses in the other. “My nerves are rattled. I need a drink.”
“I thought that was illegal here,” Ava said.
“The Russians are good for some things.”
“How are they taking this?”
“The captain was furious with those men,” Nina said, walking past Ava into the room. “He will discipline them in his own way. He is a good man. He has been coming here for at least ten years.”
Nina put the glasses on the dresser and filled them. Ava closed the door and turned the lock, then walked over and sat on the edge of the bed. Nina joined her. “ Skol,” she said, taking a slug.
Ava took a small sip. Cognac wasn’t her kind of drink.
“Look at me,” Nina said, holding out a hand. “I’m still trembling.”
“It was a shock.”
“Not to you, evidently. Just how did you do that, take out those men?”
“I’ve been training in martial arts since I was a teenager. It was no big deal.”
“I’ve never seen martial arts like that.”
“It’s called bak mei. It’s a very old discipline.”
“And effective.”
“I probably overreacted,” Ava said. “I mean, the three of them were pretty drunk, and not exactly tough guys. But he shouldn’t have reached for my breast.”
“No, I think you were perfect,” Nina said, her
cheeks slightly flushed. “I think you are perfect.”
She’s coming on to me, Ava thought. “Nina, I’m tired and I really need to go to sleep.”
“Oh, sure, I am sorry for disturbing you,” she said, now flustered as well as flushed. She rolled her glass between her palms, downed the last of the cognac, and looked awkwardly at Ava.
Ava found the awkwardness endearing. “Do you want to join me?” she asked.
Nina, looking down at her glass, slowly nodded.
“Then take off your clothes, turn off the light, and get into bed.”
(17)
Ava wasn’t sure what time it was when she woke. Nina was perched on the side of the bed, already clothed. She leaned down to kiss Ava on the forehead. “I have to go. There’s a meeting in Torshavn that I have to be at, which ends with a dinner tonight.”
“I may not be here when you get back. If things go well this morning, I’ll be leaving later today,” Ava said.
“I left my phone number, my email, and my home address on a piece of paper. It’s on the dresser. If you want to keep in touch — ”
“I just might.”
Ava checked her watch as Nina closed the door. It was seven o’clock. She hauled herself out of bed and went over to the window. If the sun was up it was doing a good job of keeping out of sight; the sky was so grey it verged on black. She felt like a run — there was nothing like a run after good sex. Then she remembered that her running gear was out of action, and at almost that exact moment the sky opened and the rain began to pelt. It just wasn’t meant to be, she thought.
There was a kettle and two sachets of instant coffee in the room. She boiled the water while she showered and then sat on the bed with a towel wrapped around her and drank two cups in quick succession. She thought about the Sorensens. If there was going to be a deal with them, it would have to be papered, however roughly. If they were going to tell her who had orchestrated the fraud, she wanted it in writing, signed and sealed. She called the front desk and a man answered.
“Nina said I could use the hotel computer,” Ava said. “Can I come down in about fifteen minutes?”
“I don’t see why not. It’s in the back office here.”
She dressed, the second Steinum sweater going over the black Brooks Brothers shirt. Mimi teased her constantly about her almost monochromatic taste in clothes. If it wasn’t black, grey, white, or a muted blue or pink then it wasn’t for Ava. But as she looked at herself in the mirror, all lit up like a Christmas tree, she thought the bright colours suited her and the tight fit showed off her curves.
The man at the desk looked to be about the same age as Nina, and Ava had a passing thought that he might be her husband. He pointed to a door behind the desk and she walked into an office that was only large enough to hold a metal filing cabinet and desk, a photocopier, and a swivel chair. Ava figured four people might be able to squeeze into it if three of them were standing. The walls were bare and there were no pictures on the desk or the cabinet. She sat at the computer and began to type. Twenty minutes later, she printed three copies of a document that left spaces for the dates and names to be filled in.
She walked into the lobby and looked out onto the harbour. It was set in a cove, three sides surrounded by mountains of bare rock split here and there by streams of water tumbling into the sea. The mountaintops were shrouded in mist, and in the distance she could see a faint rainbow.
“The Faeroe Islands: nothing but mountains, rain, and sheep,” a voice said behind her.
She turned and saw a burly man with a thick black beard; he was wearing a heavy black sweater. “I am the captain of the fishing boat out there,” he said. “My name is Mikhail.”
“I’m Ava Lee.”
“I have been coming here for years and I never get used to how barren and isolated it is,” he said. “When we could catch all the cod and haddock we wanted, it wasn’t so bad. But now all we get is some perch and bluefish, and I am beginning to wonder if I’m not long for this place.”
“Does it always rain like this?”
“No. Sometimes it rains harder, sometimes it just drizzles.”
“I’m a sunshine girl.”
“Then this isn’t the place for you.”
“I’m leaving today,” she said. “You can have your room back.”
“I am sorry about last night,” he said.
“Me too.”
“Those three men will not crew with me again. I have been at sea for twenty-five years, and I have always been aware that people think fisherman, think Russian, and then think animal. That is not me, and it won’t be any man who signs on with me. So they will be gone.”
“That’s not necessary on my account.”
“It is on mine.”
“And I probably overreacted. I could have handled it better.”
“The nose will mend, the other two will live. What will be worse for them is that the crew will taunt them for the rest of the trip about being beaten up by a hundred-pound girl. And then word will get around to the rest of our fleet and they will be joked about for years.”
“I overreacted,” Ava repeated.
“They are sitting in the restaurant. They would like to apologize to you.”
Ava looked out again at the harbour. The rain was finally letting up and she figured she could make it to the Sorensens’ without getting soaked. “No, that’s not necessary,” she said. “And now I really have to go; I have a meeting. But thank you.”
Before the Russian could say a word she was gone out the door, making a hard right turn, and heading up the hill.
Helga Sorensen greeted her at the door. She was wearing a nicer dress, pantyhose, and a layer of makeup, and her hair was brushed back and coiled in a bun. Ava knew which one she would be negotiating with. “Where is Mr. Sorensen?” she asked.
“Upstairs. We do not need him.”
“No, I do. There are questions I need answered, papers I need signed.”
“Let us settle the money first,” Helga said.
“I need to know that he’ll answer my questions.”
“As best he can.”
“And that he will sign the papers.”
“You said he would be kept out of this.”
“I can’t go to the person or people who organized this fraud with only his word. I’ve prepared a statement that I would like Mr. Sorensen to sign. It isn’t perfect and it isn’t meant to be legal. It’s just an admission that he painted some of the artwork in question. I need to know what he painted, when, for whom, and how much he was paid. It won’t go any further than me.”
“Can I see it?”
Ava pulled a copy from her Double Happiness computer bag and passed it to Helga.
“The point is that they need to know that I actually know what happened, that I’m not guessing or making any charges that are unsubstantiated.”
“There is no money mentioned in here.”
“I didn’t think you would want them to know you’ve been paid to cooperate. Don’t you think it looks better all around if they believe you did this out of good conscience?”
“Better for you too.”
“Yes, that’s part of it.”
“So what about the money?”
“I’ll have twenty thousand wired to any bank account you want, once he signs.”
“Twenty is not enough.”
“I thought we had agreed — ” Ava said.
“No, I said that my husband and I needed to talk. That is how things were left. And now we have talked and twenty thousand isn’t enough.”
She’s good, Ava thought. “What number do you have in mind?”
“Eighty.”
She wants forty, Ava thought. “That’s more than you received for doing the paintings.”
Helga sat stone-faced.
“I’ll send you twenty-five.”
“Eighty.”
“Thirty.”
“My husband insists on eighty.”
“You need to mee
t me halfway. I’m quite sure my people will never approve eighty.”
“Halfway?”
“Forty. Mrs. Sorensen, I’ve already doubled my original offer.”
“All right, we’ll settle for forty.”
“Okay, I’ll send you forty, but I want Jan to go over these papers right away, fill in the blanks, and sign three copies. If he can do that in the next hour, I can have the money in transit to you today. It might even hit your bank account by lunch. If he dawdles, I won’t be able to get it out of Hong Kong until tomorrow.”
Helga Sorensen stood up and walked to the foot of the stairs. “Jan!” she shouted.
Ava heard footsteps above her.
“Come down here,” Helga said.
When he appeared, his wife grabbed him by the elbow and led him into the dining room. “We have to fill out these papers for the woman.”
Helga came back into the living room. “I need to help him,” she said. “I have this information filed and he doesn’t remember so well.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” Ava said. “But if you give me your bank information, I’ll get things started on my end.”
“I’ll be back.”
She disappeared up the stairs. When she came back a few minutes later, she handed Ava a blank cheque from a Torshavn bank. “I thought you had an account in Skagen,” Ava said.
“Haven’t used it in years,” Helga said.
But you didn’t close it, Ava thought. How lucky is that?
As Helga and Jan Sorensen began to fill in the gaps in the statement, Ava called Hong Kong.
“ Wei.”
“Uncle, it’s Ava.”
“Where are you, Denmark?”
“No, the Faeroe Islands.”
“Where is that?”
“Somewhere in the North Atlantic, between Iceland and Norway.”
“You had success in Denmark?”
“Some. I think I’ve located one of the artists.”
