The King of Shanghai (14 page)

( 16 )

She forced herself to sleep with the help of a cognac and two melatonin tablets. After she had woken at two, three, and then five thirty, she knew afternoon naps would have to be banished if she was ever going to overcome the jet lag. It was just past seven when she finally gave up and crawled out of bed. She made a coffee and settled at her computer to read emails.

Amanda had sent their offer to the Pos the night before, copying her and May. Ava read it over and was pleased by how precise it was. There shouldn’t be any confusion about their intentions.

There were also several messages between May and Suki Chan confirming flight and meeting details for Beijing. May’s flight was at nine, and Ava was certain she was on her way to the airport now. She thought about calling her and then wondered what she could say other than “Good luck.” In any event, if things went according to Suki’s plan, Three Sisters was about to more than double the size of its logistics business.

Ava scanned the rest of her mail, reading the short, newsy notes from her mother and her sister and a longer one from Maria that was filled with yearning. She fired off answers to Jennie and Marian and then sat back and thought about her girlfriend. They’d been together for more than a year, and with the exception of a one-night stand in the Faeroe Islands, Ava had been completely faithful. It was the longest relationship she’d ever been in. The question wasn’t whether she wanted to maintain it, but could she live with someone — with anyone — on a full-time basis? She had been living alone for more than fifteen years without feeling lonely. Maybe it was her personality, maybe it was a result of her previous career, but she was comfortable with her own company. She didn’t need people around her to make her feel complete. In fact, spending a prolonged period of time with anyone — her mother, her sister, her best friend, Mimi — left her feeling suffocated. It was as if they were sucking the air out from around her.

Maria didn’t generate quite the same reaction, but after a weekend together Ava was happy to see her leave for work. She was, she thought, ready to commit to Maria, but she knew, deep down, that she wasn’t prepared to live with her. She read the message again and then wrote:
I miss you too.

She pushed the chair back from the desk and went to the bathroom. Half an hour later she emerged shiny clean and refreshed. She looked at her cellphone. There hadn’t been any calls, and in Ava’s world that was usually a good thing. She checked past calls, saw Sonny’s number, and then remembered she had promised to phone Carlo.

His phone rang four times before she heard a croaky “
Wei
.”

“Carlo, it’s Ava.”

“Ava?”

“Sonny said you wanted to talk to me.”

“Are you still in Shanghai?”

The question caught Ava off guard. “Why do you ask?”

“Because if you are it will be easy enough for you to come to Hong Kong.”

“And why would I come to Hong Kong?”

“You know Sammy Wing, right?”

“I know of Sammy Wing.”

“I’m working for him.”

“I heard.”

“He co-operated with Sonny as a favour to Uncle when Jackie Leung was gunning for you.”

“I know.”

“He wasn’t the one who actually threw Leung into Victoria Harbour, but he helped finger him.”

“Carlo, where is this leading?” Ava asked.

She heard him draw a deep breath. “Sammy wants you to come to Hong Kong to meet with him.”

“For what reason?”

“He didn’t tell me.”

“And you didn’t ask?”

“Ava, you know me. I’m small-time. I’m running a bookmaking operation for him. I’m not part of the inner circle.”

“So why are you the one who’s calling me?”

“I guess he thought you would take my call.”

“That was a reasonable assumption.”

“So will you?”

“Go to Hong Kong to meet with Sammy Wing?”

“Yeah.”

“Carlo, I don’t know why I should.”

“You do owe him a bit of a favour.”

“I don’t know him, I’ve never met him, and I don’t feel any obligation, despite Jackie Leung. As I remember, that was nearly all Uncle’s doing.”

Carlo became quiet. Ava could imagine his tightly compressed eyes and lips — classic Carlo in thinking mode. “Then would you do it for me?” he said, his voice cracking slightly.

Ava hesitated. There wasn’t any doubt that she owed Carlo. “You must have some idea of what he wants.”

“Ava, I told you, I don’t have a clue.”

“Earlier, you asked me if I’m still in Shanghai. What made you think that?”

“That’s what Sammy told me.”

“How did he know?”

“Again, I don’t have a clue.”

“Carlo, I don’t know what to say. Part of me knows I owe you, but another says that Sammy Wing’s request is very strange and not such a good idea.”

“I’m trying to make my way in this organization. So far it hasn’t been bad, but the jobs I get are all chicken-shit stuff. This is the first real chance I’ve had to make any kind of a mark . . . Ava, I think this is kind of important to Sammy or he would never have asked me to reach out to you. That’s all I know.”

She sighed. “Okay, Carlo, I’ll come to Hong Kong. But when I meet with Wing, I’m going to tell him that the only reason I’m there is because of you.”

“That’s fine. In fact, that’s more than fine.”

“When does he want me to come?”

“As soon as you can. How’s today?”

“Good god.”

“I’m just saying.”

Ava thought about her day. May was en route to Beijing. The girls would be waiting for the Pos’ response. “Where does he want to meet?”

“Your choice.”

“How many people?”

“It sounded like just you and him.”

“Call him and make sure of that, will you? In the meantime, I’ll talk to my partners and make sure I can get away from here today. I’ll phone you back in half an hour or so.”

“Ava, thank you.”

“I haven’t said yes yet.”

“I know, but you will. One of the things Andy and I always admired about you was your loyalty to your friends. And even though we worked for you, we still felt like friends.”

“Just call Sammy Wing,” she said.

“Yes, boss.”

Ava got up from the desk and walked to the window. The sun was high in the sky and the early morning dew had already evaporated from the lawn below. The garden was a jewel and, like the French Concession, a reminder of foreign occupation. Both were such unique creations that even the Maoists couldn’t bring themselves to rip them down, nor the next wave of Communist developers.
Why would Sammy Wing want to meet with me?
she thought.
How did he know I was in Shanghai?
She reached for her phone and called May.

“I’m at the airport,” May said.

“I know. I saw from your emails last night,” Ava said. “May, I’ve just talked to Carlo in Hong Kong. Do you remember Carlo?”

“Funny little guy who thinks he’s every woman’s fantasy?”

“Yes, that Carlo. He called for Sammy Wing. You wouldn’t know Sammy, but he’s Triad and runs Wanchai. Carlo is working for him now. Sammy wants me to go to Hong Kong to meet with him.”

“That’s odd.”

“I thought so too, but the thing is, I owe Carlo quite a few favours. I think it will help his status with Sammy if I go.”

“What does Sammy Wing want?”

“I don’t know, and Carlo doesn’t either. Whatever it is, it shouldn’t be something that I can’t handle.”

“So you’re thinking of going?”

“Yes, but not if it interferes with anything we have going on.”

“Truthfully, it might be beneficial to have you in Hong Kong. If things go as planned in Beijing, we should be able to fire off instructions to our lawyers there tonight. And — who knows? — Amanda and Chi-Tze might hear from the Pos. It would be almost ideal if you were there to work with them to get both deals papered as fast as possible.”

“Well, I guess that settles it. I’ll let Amanda and Chi-Tze know what the schedule is and then I’ll book a flight.”

“I love it when plans come together the way they should,” May said.

“Yes, me too,” Ava said.
But how and why did Sammy Wing become part of this plan?
she thought.

( 17 )

Ava caught the noon Cathay Pacific flight from Shanghai to Hong Kong. Two and half hours later the plane began its descent over the South China Sea into Chep Lap Kok airport. An armada of freighters, container ships, and tankers was waiting for its chance to enter the port and unload. Moving past them, another armada, fully loaded, was making its way to the four corners of the world. Darting among the ships were fishing boats and junks with more local but just as pressing business. She had made this particular flight many times, and the sea was always as busy as a highway at rush hour. If Suki Chan had her way and things went well in Beijing, their own containers would soon be on those ships.

It was close to three o’clock by the time she had cleared Customs, collected her bag, and walked into the cavernous arrivals hall. Sonny was standing, as he always did, under an arrivals sign. She had called him the moment after she booked her flight. Ava figured he must have come directly to the airport after their call ended. In the past he had waited six, eight, ten hours, or however long he was needed, for Uncle. It was one of the few areas in his life where he exhibited patience.

He took a step forward when he saw her and then stopped. He was wearing a black suit with a white shirt and a black tie. The suit was unbuttoned, and Ava saw that his stomach was stretching the shirt and the jacket seemed tight around the shoulders. Months of doing nothing but driving Michael had taken their toll. His brow was furrowed and his manner seemed grim, but then he gave a little smile, placed his hands together and raised them to his chest, lowered his head, and slowly moved his hands up and down in a sign of respect.

She hadn’t seen him since shortly after Uncle’s funeral, when she told him she was returning to Toronto for a while. She had asked him to drive for her brother and Amanda during her absence and to protect them both. “But you’re still the boss?” he had said then.

“Yes, of course. But when I’m not in Hong Kong, I need you to do these things for me.”

“I will. But you’ll be coming back?”

“Yes, but I don’t know when or how often, or for how long.”

How long, Ava thought as she reached Sonny, had turned out to be the most time in ten years she had spent away from Hong Kong. “So good to see you,” she said.

He smiled awkwardly. She put down her bag and, holding onto one of his arms, got on the tips of her toes to kiss him gently on the cheek.

He seemed embarrassed by her show of affection. “Hey, boss,” he said.

“Hey, Sonny,” she said.

He reached for her bag. “Where are we going?”

“The Mandarin Oriental in Central.”

“I didn’t really have to ask,” he said, then turned and pointed. “The car is parked in that direction.”

He walked towards a door that opened onto a no-parking, no-stopping zone that was reserved for Hong Kong’s elite. That was where Uncle had left his car when he came to meet her. She was surprised that the privilege had been extended to Sonny.

A policeman stood near the front fender. Ava thought he was writing a ticket, but when he saw them, he stepped back, placed his hands together, and bowed. “Thanks,” Sonny said, extending his hand, which held a Hong Kong hundred-dollar note.

Ava went to sit in the front passenger seat, but Sonny walked past her and opened the rear door. “That’s where Uncle always sat,” he said. “It seems right to me.”

The car left the airport and eased onto the Tsing Ma Bridge, whose six lanes of traffic and two rail lines connected the man-made island airport to Kowloon. The Ma Wan Channel was two hundred metres below, its water carpeted with even more ships.

Traffic was light. Sonny was across the one and a half kilometres of bridge into Kowloon and leaving the Cross-Harbour Tunnel by the time Ava spoke. “Sonny, what do you know about Sammy Wing?”

“He runs Wanchai.”

“So I gather. But tell me, what’s he like?”

“He’s big, fat, and looks like a bit of a slob. Some people assume he must be sloppy. He’s not. Uncle didn’t like him but he had time for him. He thought he’s maybe the shrewdest of all the Triad bosses in and around Hong Kong.”

“How does he operate?”

“He smiles a lot when he talks to you, like he wants you to think he’s your best friend. That works, until he puts a knife in your back.”

“Not uncommon.”

“Well, as long you keep doing what he wants, he’ll be nice enough. The moment you resist, you can expect him to turn into a monstrous prick.”

“How did he and Uncle get along? I mean really.”

“Like I said, Uncle never liked him. He went out of his way to avoid him.”

“Yet Wing helped you find Leung.”

“Only because Uncle paid him.”

“I see.”

“Paid him a lot.”

“I see. Did he and Uncle have unfinished business?”

“No, I don’t think so. Why do you ask?”

“I can’t figure out why he wants to meet with me.”

“So why do it?”

“I’m here because of Carlo.”

Ava saw Sonny look at her in the rear-view mirror. “Carlo doesn’t think much beyond what’s going on for a particular day.”

“I know, but whenever I needed him, he was there for me.”

“He was good that way,” Sonny said, nodding.

“So I’ll meet with Sammy Wing.”

“Where?”

“A noodle shop two blocks from the Mandarin, where Uncle and I used to go.”

“Do you want me to go with you?”

“We agreed that it should be just the two of us.”

“That figures. He’s secretive as well as being a prick.”

“But I don’t see any reason why you can’t walk there with me and wait outside until I’m finished.”

“Yeah. That will work.”

They ran into the beginning of rush hour as they drove deeper into the city. Ava checked her watch — it was almost four. She had agreed to meet Wing at six, so even with the traffic she would have time to check in, change her clothes, and prepare herself.

They reached the hotel half an hour later. “I’ll meet you in the lobby at five to six,” Ava said.

“I have a parking spot near here,” Sonny said. “I’m no more than two minutes away if you need me before then.”

That won’t be necessary
, Ava thought, then caught herself before the words were spoken. “That will be perfect,” she said.

The doorman smiled when he saw her. “Welcome back, Ms. Lee,” he said.

“Thank you.”

She had stayed at the Mandarin so many times over the years that she knew most of the staff by name and knew her way around the hotel as well as she did her Toronto condo. Within five minutes she was checked in and walking into her suite on the twentieth floor. She unpacked her case, put her toiletries in the bathroom, set up her computer on the desk, and then went over to the window. Her room overlooked Victoria Harbour, across which she could see Tsim Sha Tsui and the rest of Kowloon beyond. When she was staying in Hong Kong during Uncle’s illness, every morning she had taken the Star Ferry across the harbour, from Central to Tsim Sha Tsui, to meet Uncle for a congee breakfast. The harbour was as busy as usual, outgoing and incoming ferries passing each other as they dodged the array of traffic. There had been a time when she could look out over the entire expanse of Tsim Sha Tsui’s waterfront from the hotel; now all she saw were swatches between the high-rise towers and office buildings that formed a wall flanking the Hong Kong side. It was the world’s tallest skyline, larger by far in both numbers and size than New York City’s, and still growing. Ava often thought of the towers as citadels protecting the core of Central — Hong Kong’s financial heart — from invasion.

She turned from the window and went into the bathroom. She brushed her teeth and her hair and put on a light touch of red lipstick and black mascara. She stripped off the black T-shirt and Adidas training pants she had worn for the flight, and in her underwear went to the bedroom. She put on a white shirt with an Italian collar, securing the cuffs with the blue enamel links she had bought at Shanghai Tang. She debated between a skirt and slacks, and opted for the pants.

Her phone had been off since she left Shanghai. She turned it on and saw a text from Amanda. They hadn’t heard from the Pos. May had left a voicemail that said simply, “Check your email.”

Ava turned on her computer and opened May’s message. The news from Beijing couldn’t have been better: the offer sheet had been returned to them with only minor modifications. May had attached the document for Ava to review. She had also sent a copy to their Hong Kong law firm, Burgess and Bowlby, advising them that Ava was in Hong Kong and would be the company’s point of contact as the deal memo made the transition into formal contract.

Ava had met Brenda Burgess when Three Sisters was incorporated. She was a
gweilo
, as was her partner, Richard Bowlby. May, like Uncle, felt more comfortable working with Western-trained, Western-minded lawyers. It wasn’t that their Hong Kong Chinese counterparts weren’t as smart; it was that
gweilo
lawyers moved in entirely different social and business circles. Both May and Uncle believed that there was less chance of their affairs becoming public, however inadvertently or innocently. Uncle did not want anyone to know even who his lawyer was, and even the most discreet Chinese lawyer would have found it difficult not to divulge the fact that Uncle was a client.

Ava opened the attachments May had sent. It would be costing them $85 million to take control of the Beijing operation. She shook her head at the thought of so much money. She knew they had it, but the fact was still too new to fully absorb.

At the end of her message May wrote that she and Suki probably had a week of due diligence ahead of them, in and around Beijing, but that Ava should proceed with the lawyers as if everything had already checked out. Ava forwarded the email to the law firm, advising them that she was indeed in Hong Kong and staying at the Mandarin Oriental in Central. Their office was no more than a ten-minute walk away.

She checked her watch and saw that it was ten to six. It was time to meet Wing. She debated taking a notebook to the meeting and then discarded the idea. She couldn’t imagine he would have anything to say that would be worth writing down.

It was close to dinnertime, so she had to wait a couple of minutes for the elevator, which made five stops on the way to the lobby. It was almost six when she finally got there. Sonny was standing by the main entrance, his back against a wall, his eyes darting in all directions.
Old habits die hard
, Ava thought. He straightened when he saw her, and he reached for his tie and gave it a tug to tighten it.

“I’m a bit late. Sorry,” she said.

“That’s no problem for me.”

The noodle shop was only two blocks from the hotel, uphill from the harbour on Ko Shing Street near Des Voeux Road, but it was a long two blocks to walk. The surrounding office towers were beginning to empty. Ava and Sonny walked side by side, almost pressed into the backs of the people in front of them, the breath of the people behind on their necks. “I’d forgotten how bad the foot traffic can be,” she said as they reached an intersection and were forced to stop five metres from it.

When they got to Ko Shing, Ava turned right and the pedestrian flow eased. They were still about twenty metres away when Ava saw Carlo and another man standing in front of the noodle shop. Carlo was small and wiry. He was dressed in a tight white T-shirt and black jeans that didn’t add any substance to his build. His head was cleanly shaven and he was still wearing the scraggly beard and wisp of a moustache he’d had the last time she had seen him. The other man was not quite as big as Sonny but there wasn’t an ounce of fat on him. He wore a black T-shirt that showed off the tattoos covering both his arms.

Ava saw Carlo look in their direction and waved at him. He glanced sideways at his companion and muttered something, then both men turned to face them.

“Good to see you again, Carlo,” Ava said.

“And you. Thanks for coming,” he said.

She waited, expecting him to offer his hand, or even his cheek. Instead he motioned at the bigger man. “This is Bobby. He’s one of Sammy’s key men.” Bobby nodded at her. He seemed bored to be there.

“Hi, Sonny,” Carlo said.

“How are you doing?”

“Well enough. You?”

“Working for Ava.”

“Yeah, I sort of knew that.”

“Now you know for sure,” Sonny said, his eyes now focused on Bobby.

“Sammy is inside. Let me take you in and make the introductions,” Carlo said.

Bobby moved to one side, clearing the entrance. Carlo leapt forward to open the door and then stood aside to let Ava pass. As she did, he whispered, “I can’t thank you enough for doing this.”

The restaurant was small — ten tables with steel tube legs and Formica tops. The air inside was thick and humid from the steam rising from bowls of soup and noodles, and it was jammed with customers. Carlo touched Ava gently on the elbow and guided her towards the rear. In the far corner, a short, heavyset man wearing a red Ralph Lauren polo shirt stood as they neared. Next to him a large, very fat man remained seated at the table.

“I’m Jimmy Tan,” the standing man said, offering his hand.

“And I guess you know I’m Ava Lee.”

“I saw you at Uncle’s funeral.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t remember you. The day was a complete blur.”

“That isn’t a surprise,” he said. “And in case you don’t remember, this is Sammy Wing.”

She looked down at a round face and a double set of jowls. He had a full head of black hair parted in the middle. He had fine features — a small nose, thin lips — but they were almost swallowed up by mounds of flesh flowing like layers of melted wax. His eyes were large and round and flickered from side to side like those of an owl. He pushed himself up from his chair. It was a laborious process, hindered by a huge belly that hung over the waistband of his jeans.

“Thank you so much for coming. Please take a seat,” Sammy Wing said. His voice was surprisingly soft.

There were three chairs at the table. “I thought we agreed that it would be just the two of us,” Ava said.

“Jimmy is my deputy Mountain Master,” Wing said.