by Ian Hamilton
The restaurant had two rows of booths running from front to back, towards the kitchen. The booth walls were high and Ava couldn’t see Uncle from the doorway. She was halfway to the kitchen when she heard him say her name.
He sat by himself, his feet barely touching the ground, a pot of tea and a Chinese newspaper in front of him. He was wearing a black suit and white shirt, but as she slid into the booth and faced him, she saw that both looked freshly ironed; there was no lingering trace of the aromas of Ming’s Hot Pot. There was no trace of the night before in his face, either, as she looked into those clear, gleaming eyes. She diverted her attention to his newspaper.
“A racing form,” he said. “Horse racing is my hobby. Or, more properly stated, betting on racehorses is.”
“I hear it’s very popular here.”
“It borders on mania.”
“I’ve never experienced it.”
“Perhaps one day I can introduce you to it,” he said. “Now, forgive me for being impolite and not offering you tea.”
“I would prefer coffee if they have it.”
“Only instant.”
“Perfect.”
He raised a hand in the air and a server appeared as if out of nowhere. Ava had never before encountered anyone who commanded such immediate attention. “Coffee for my guest,” he said, and then turned back to Ava. “The congee here is not quite as watery as is typical. Is that okay?”
“Yes.”
“I like mine rather plain, with mushrooms, some chopped spring onions on top, and salted duck eggs on the side.”
“I’ll pass on the mushrooms and duck eggs. I wouldn’t mind some chicken in it, though, and I like you tiao.”
“That is what we will have, then,” he said to the server. When she left, Uncle smiled at Ava across the table. She found his smile slightly tentative, and felt uneasy.
“I hope I did not call too early,” he said. “I did not sleep well. I was up by six and waited until what I thought was a reasonable hour.”
“I was awake, after a very good night’s sleep.”
“Well, as I said, I did not sleep well. When I got home last night, I received a phone call from an old friend in Guangzhou. After speaking to him, my mind kept going back to our conversation, and I realized I needed to talk to you again.”
“Uncle, I can’t revisit our money agreement,” she said quickly. “I have already called my client in Toronto and told him what I’ve recovered. It would cause him enormous grief if things changed. I can’t do that to him.”
“What made you think that is what I wanted to discuss?”
She shook her head. “I just assumed it had to be that.”
“It is not,” he said, as the server arrived with two bowls of congee.
Jennie Lee made congee several times a month, but her boiled rice concoction was more like gruel than porridge. The Morning Blessings version looked thick enough to support a vertical chopstick. Ava sprinkled white pepper over the top and dipped the tip of her you tiao, a fried breadstick, into it. She nibbled the bread while Uncle covered his bowl with pepper.
He tasted his congee and then put his spoon aside. “My friend from Guangzhou has a problem. He thinks that one of his employees, a bookkeeper, has embezzled millions. He wants to find him, find out how he did it, locate the money, and get it back. He asked me to take on the job. I told him I did not think I could, because I do not have the right people to undertake a problem of that size and complexity. He told me he would wait for me to give him a more definite answer. He is quite distressed. That is when I started to think about you.”
“Uncle, we went over this last night.”
“I know, and it is not my intention to repeat myself,” he said. “Tell me, what kind of business do you have in Toronto?”
“I have a small accounting firm.”
“One person?”
“Yes, just me.”
“And what type of customers do you have?”
“Individuals and some small businesses.”
“Do you find it stimulating and challenging?”
She was holding a spoonful of congee with shredded chicken in front of her mouth. She paused, wondering where he was going.
“I ask that question because, when you were just now talking about your client in Toronto, you used the word grief,” Uncle said. “I have no doubt, given that description, that your ability to recover at least part of his money has spared him a lot of grief.”
“That is true.”
“The people who come to me, like your client who came to you, are desperate. They have exhausted all their legal means. Most of them are clinging onto their businesses, their families, and their lives by their fingernails. We are their lifeline. If we fail them, what is left? The destruction of everything they have worked for? Personal humiliation? No future for their families?”
Ava thought of Mr. Lo crying on the telephone. “I think I have some understanding of how traumatic it could be,” she said.
“Now let me rephrase my question. What has given you the best sense of doing something meaningful since you started your small business?”
“The question is redundant.”
“I know it is, and I apologize for being obvious. My point is, you have special talents that you need to use. I can give you the opportunity.”
“Uncle, I don’t mean to be impolite,” Ava said quietly. “But despite all your talk about saving lives, you still charge thirty percent as a recovery fee.”
He nodded and smiled. “This is Asia, and the standard rate is thirty percent. If I charged less, there would be an assumption that we did inferior work, and I doubt that we could attract clients of quality. And as I told you, I pay all of the expenses associated with any job, including bribes. We are not always successful, and so those costs have to be absorbed somehow. Finally, I assure you I have never had clients complain about our fee when we return money to them. Seventy percent of something is far superior to one hundred percent of nothing.”
“But you are still making a healthy profit.”
“Of course the business is profitable. But the talents of people like Carlos and Andy are best suited to more mundane jobs, and those do not normally have large dollars at risk. I would like to be able to expand our customer base to include jobs involving more money and with greater challenges attached to them. It is not that those types of clients do not come to me. It is that in good conscience I do not think I could give them proper service, and so I have had to turn them away.”
“And if I worked for you, that would change?”
“Yes. Would you disagree that your training qualifies you? My friend in Guangzhou needs expertise, not muscle.”
“No, but I’ve already told you that I don’t want to leave Toronto and I don’t want to work for anyone else.”
“You do not have to leave Toronto,” he said. “I was thinking about this last night. What does it matter where your home base is? Our clients are all over Asia, and we have even had some enquiries from North America. Do you object to travelling from Toronto?”
“No.”
“And the travel might not be that strenuous. There are often time lapses between jobs, and my understanding of your profession is that much of it can be done by computer anyway. What do I care if you spend your down time in Toronto, or whether your computer is in Toronto or Hong Kong?”
“Even if all that is true, I don’t want to work for anyone.”
“What if you became my partner?”
He said it so casually that at first Ava wasn’t sure she had heard him correctly. Now he looked across the table at her with an almost amused expression in his eyes.
“How would that be possible? I have no money to put into a business,” she said, pushing aside the other, less obvious objections that were crowding into her head.
“It
is hardly a business in the normal sense of the word. I have no office. My staff, including Carlo and Andy, come and go as the work demands. I have no need for your money, or for anyone else’s.”
“So what kind of partnership would it be?”
“The simplest kind. We shake hands and then we share risks and rewards on an even basis. I will provide all the initial financing at no cost to you, but after we accrue profits we can set some aside as our joint investment. And from the start, I will advance whatever money you need to live until our venture is self-sustaining.”
“Uncle, we hardly know each other,” she said.
“I learned a long time ago to rely on my intuition when it comes to trust. My first instinct has always been the strongest and best, and it is telling me that you are someone worth knowing and someone I can trust. Now, you may not feel the same way about me, but I think you must have some sense of how I work from the events of the past few days.”
She shook her head. “This is crazy.”
“Ava, I was born in a village outside Wuhan, in Hubei province. The Communists came to power when I was a young man, and I had to decide if I was going to live my life as I thought fit or to allow other people and other factors to live it for me. When Mao’s policies resulted in the deaths of those around me, I decided to leave. With some friends, I found my way to the coast. We swam to Hong Kong, where I knew no one and no one knew me. Still, I made my way in unfamiliar surroundings and created a life that some think has been successful.”
“And your family in Wuhan?”
He closed his eyes. “They are dead. All of them. My mother and father and brother all died within a year of my leaving. I was told they were reduced to eating grass. I have no other relatives that I am aware of. I have never forgiven the Communists.”
“I’m sorry.”
He stared at her. “Thank you, but I have never had a large capacity for grief. I prefer looking ahead to looking back. Swimming to Hong Kong limited my soul as well as my body. So trying new things, even at my age, holds no fear for me. I suspect you have the same spirit of independence and adventure.”
“I have to admit that I felt completely engaged and energized when I was in Shenzhen. But I have trouble accepting that I can or should do something like that for a living.”
“What pressing obligations do you have in Toronto right now?” Uncle said.
“Nothing special.”
“Then why not take one small step and see where it leads?”
“One step?”
“Guangzhou. Let us take on that job. If we are unsuccessful, I will pay you a decent fee anyway. If we can get some money back, I will split it with you. Give it a try. When you are done, if you do not think the work is for you, you can go back to Toronto and your business. If you want to continue working with me, you can do so with the understanding that you may terminate our agreement on a day’s notice.”
“You are being incredibly flexible, and generous.”
“As I said, I trust my instincts.”
“What the hell,” Ava said, and then looked at the man across from her. “Okay, I’ll give Guangzhou a try, but no commitments beyond that.”
He smiled and held out his hand. “If I am right, I suspect it will be the last time we ever have to shake on anything.”
( 20 )
AVA LEFT MORNING Blessings with a bounce in her step and a feeling of anticipation rippling through her. Despite her hesitation about working with Uncle, there was something in his quiet, understated manner that encouraged confidence and fuelled her enthusiasm. She was already looking forward to tackling the job in Guangzhou. And it was a trial, she reminded herself. If it didn’t work out, all she was risking was a few days of her time.
They had agreed that Uncle would arrive at her hotel at noon. He would call the client to tell him they were taking the job, get more information, and start making arrangements for the trip to Guangzhou. It was only a two-hour car ride, and Uncle said Sonny would drive them.
Ava started walking towards Mong Kok. She was outside a jewellery store near the Peninsula Hotel when her phone rang.
“Hello.”
“Ava, it’s Daddy.”
“I’m so happy to hear from you.”
“Is everything okay? I’ve been waiting for you to call me. I knew you were here on that business we talked about and I didn’t want to disturb you, but I was beginning to get worried. Then I spoke to Mummy this morning and she told me about your grand success. She’s so proud of you. We both are,” he said.
“Daddy, things couldn’t have gone any better. I got back from Shenzhen just last night. I was going to call you, but Mummy said it was easier to reach you in the morning. I was going to phone in a few minutes.”
“So you’re in Hong Kong?”
“I’m in Kowloon.”
“Then I want you to grab the Star Ferry and come over to this side at noon for dim sum. I’ll take you to Man Wah, at the Mandarin Oriental.”
“Oh, Daddy, I can’t. I’m leaving for Guangzhou then.”
“Guangzhou?”
Ava took a deep breath. “I’ve taken on another collection job.”
“Another client of yours with the same kind of problem?” he said, his tone disbelieving.
“No, it’s a client of a man who runs a collection business here in Hong Kong. He’s asked me to help him. They need someone who has accounting skills.”
Her father was quiet.
“Daddy, I am an accountant, and I am trained to do forensic work. It’s a waste for me not to use whatever talents I have. I won’t say I enjoyed all my time in Shenzhen, but the end result gave me a greater sense of satisfaction than I can describe.”
“Ava, you have to be careful.”
“Daddy, I’m an accountant. What could possibly happen?” she said, thankful she hadn’t been forced to call him from the jail in Shenzhen.
“Some of the people in that business are completely unsavoury. Who is it you’re working with?”
“A man named Chow Tung, although most people call him Uncle. He said you and he might know each other.”
“The name is vaguely familiar, and nothing horribly negative comes to mind, so that’s a good thing. I just don’t like the idea of your doing that kind of work. I don’t care who it’s with.”
“I managed to take care of myself in Shenzhen,” Ava said, wondering if anyone would ever believe what had really happened there.
“I know, and I’m sure you’ll probably do as well in Guangzhou. But remember, I’m only a phone call away. And even if you don’t need me, make sure you let me know as soon as you’re back in Hong Kong.”
“It’s just one job. It should be a matter of a few days,” she said.
“Be careful,” he said.
“I promise,” she said, and closed her phone.
She was turning to resume her walk when she noticed a display case in the window of the jewellery store. It was filled with bracelets and necklaces made from white and green jade and encrusted with diamonds, rubies, and sapphires. They looked incredibly expensive. Each had a small card next to it; there was no price, only information about the piece. To Ava’s surprise, most of them were more than a hundred years old, and several were older than that. She was about to turn away when she spied a small item tucked into a corner of the display.
It was a long white pin. She thought at first it was made from white jade, but as she leaned in closer she saw that it was ivory. The card read: IVORY CHIGNON PIN, QING DYNASTY, CIRCA 1680.
Rather hesitantly, Ava opened the shop door and walked in. She was the only customer, but she was forced to stand awkwardly near the door while a middle-aged man and woman chatted behind the counter. The woman, her hair arranged in a helmet-like coif and her face layered with makeup, finally acknowledged Ava with a nod of her head.
Ava
was accustomed to the peculiarities of service in Hong Kong, or at least Jennie Lee’s views of service in Hong Kong. Jennie believed that store personnel treated customers in direct relation to the amount of money they were perceived to have, and that judgement came from an assessment of the clothes, purse, watch, and jewellery worn by the shopper. When Jennie shopped in Hong Kong, she dressed as if she were meeting the Queen. In her Adidas jacket and training pants and with her Citizen watch on her wrist, Ava knew she wasn’t creating the same impression.
“Can I help you?” the woman said, not moving.
“There’s a piece in the window I’m interested in looking at.”
“You understand that everything we sell is antique and rare?”
“I read the cards,” Ava said. “I’d like to see the ivory chignon pin.”
“The only one we have is from the Qing Dynasty.”
“That’s the one.”
The woman started to say something, but before she could, her companion moved from behind the counter and walked towards Ava. He was short and round and looked almost comical in his grey suit, white shirt, and large floral bow tie. “I’ll get it for you,” he said.
He reached into the window and removed the pin. “Come over here, where we have mirrors,” he said.
Ava followed him to an alcove near the back of the store. He turned on some overhead lights and held the pin in his palm so she could see it glisten.
“For ivory this old, it’s amazing that it’s retained its lustre and hardness. Many pieces of this age are scarred and yellowed. This was made from a beautiful piece of material for someone very important, and you can tell it has been prized and looked after all these years.”
“I don’t mean to be rude, but how do you know its actual age?”
He smiled. “I’m actually glad you asked, because I went to great trouble to verify it. I sent the ivory to a museum laboratory in Milan, Italy, for spectrographic analysis,” he said. “The mount, of course, is platinum and it’s new. I put it on after I got the report back from Italy. Would you like to try it on?”
“Could I?”
