The Disciple of Las Vegas (7 page)

Ava woke at 7 a.m. with a start. The time changes and jet lag were beginning to get to her. Her mind was alert but her body felt like a sack of potatoes that had been tossed about in the back of a truck. She rolled off the bed, knelt, and said a small prayer to St. Jude. Then she got up and grabbed a couple of pouches of Starbucks VIA instant coffee from her “Double Happiness” bag. The coffee didn't energize her nearly enough. She needed a good, brisk run to give her body a real jolt. As she stripped in the bathroom she looked at the still-dark bruises on her body. She sighed, put on her Adidas running gear, and walked over to the window.

The ground was wet but the rain had stopped and the mist had cleared. The Pan Pacific Hotel was in the Canada Place complex on Vancouver's inner harbour, overlooking Burrard Inlet. Ava could see the Coast Mountains to the northeast and Stanley Park to the northwest. She put on her running jacket and grabbed her cellphone before leaving the room.

Stanley Park was more than four hundred hectares — larger than New York's Central Park. Within the park, more than two hundred kilometres of trails and roads wound around half a million centuries-old trees, some of them seventy metres high. Ava jogged the perimeter, which was encircled by a seawall close to nine kilometres long that offered breathtaking views of the inlet. It began to rain again, ever so slightly, but the scenery around her was so beautiful that she hardly noticed.

Just as she was passing under Lion's Gate Bridge, a massive construction that spanned the inlet, connecting the downtown area to wealthy West Vancouver, she heard her cellphone ring. She stopped to retrieve the phone, leaning against the seawall.

“This is Ava Lee.”

“Edward Ling. Good morning.”

“Good morning.”

“You sound winded.”

“I'm running in Stanley Park, halfway around the seawall.”

“In this weather?”

“It isn't so bad.”

“Well, while you've been running, I've been working. I have that letter you wanted. I'm going to send it to your hotel by courier and, if you don't mind, I'll ask the courier to pick up the envelope you promised me in return.”

“That's fine, but I'll be at least another forty-five minutes.”

“There's no rush on my end.”

“How about Philip Chew? Did you manage to arrange a meeting?” Ava asked.

“I'm afraid I had no luck with that. When I called the house, Philip wouldn't even come to the phone. I spoke to his wife. She said he was quite ill and not up to handling any business, legal or otherwise. I must say she sounded distressed herself.”

Ava remembered what Chang had said about Philip in Manila. It sounded like it hadn't been an exaggeration. “That's unfortunate. I guess we'll just have to proceed as best as we can without him for now.”

“My letter?”

“If I'm satisfied with it I'll send the envelope back with your courier.”

“You will be.”

Ava slipped the phone back into her pocket and resumed her run around the seawall, but now her mind was less on the scenery and more on Philip Chew. She considered her options. Call the Chew residence? Go directly to their home and try to worm her way in? Contact Louis Marx to see if he could broker a meeting? She knew that unless she was willing to get on a plane to Costa Rica and traipse from bank to bank, trying to locate those fifteen different recipients, her only real chance of finding out what had happened to the money was to talk to Philip Chew.

It was ten thirty when she walked, wet but energized, into the hotel lobby. When she got to her room, she saw a white envelope on the floor. There was a note and a phone number on the front:
I'm waiting in the lobby. Call me when you want me to pick up the paperwork for Mr. Ling.

Ava ripped open the envelope. Ling's letter was short and to the point, confirming that KVD had been incorporated by Philip Chew and that McDougal, Fraser, and Ling held the shares in trust for him, and only him. It was what she wanted. She called the courier's cellphone number and told the woman who answered that the envelope for Edward Ling would be waiting outside her door.

Ava stripped and stepped into the shower. As she was standing under the hot spray, trying to relax her aching muscles, her mother came to mind.

Jennie, Ava, and Marian had relocated to Canada from Hong Kong when their father had taken on his third wife. For two years before moving to Toronto they had lived in Vancouver, where Ava knew her mother had had an active social life and a wide circle of friends. Mah-jong players, other second wives, Vegas junketeers — women with money, looking to fill their days with fun. Ava also knew that, true to her mother's social nature, Jennie had kept in touch with many of them.

It was close to eleven when she left the bathroom, two o'clock in Toronto.

“Yes,” Jennie Lee said. Ava could hear mah-jong tiles clicking in the background.

“Mummy, it's Ava.”

“Where are you?”

“Vancouver,” Ava said. “I think I need your help.”

“Give me a minute.” Ava heard her mother talking to her friends, and then the phone went silent. When Jennie came back on the line, there was no background noise. “I went outside so we could talk properly. What is going on?”

“You still have a lot of friends here, don't you?”

“Of course. Auntie Grace, Auntie Lily, Auntie Kimmy — lots of them.”

“Could you make some calls for me?”

“Why?”

“There's a very wealthy man here named Philip Chew. Could you find out if any of the aunties know him or his wife?”

“Why?”

“Because I need to talk to him, and I think if I try to do it directly I won't have any luck. It might actually be best if I could talk to his wife first, and I was hoping maybe one of the aunties knows her and could help make that happen.”

“Her name is Kitty.”

“Who?”

“Philip Chew's wife.”

“You know her?”

“I met her once. She is a good friend of Auntie Lily. They play mah-jong together. She's a bit of a snob, though. Lives in West Vancouver, in the British Properties, with all the rich
gweilos
. She thinks she's too good to live with the other Chinese in Richmond.”

“Could you call Auntie Lily?”

“What's the time there?”

“It's just past eleven.”

“I doubt she's up yet. She's a night owl.”

“Could you at least try?”

“What is it you want me to say to her?”

“Auntie Lily needs to convince Kitty Chew that I'm a friend and that she should convince her husband to talk to me. She should start by telling her who I am. The fact that I'm female, Chinese, and connected to her group should help the cause. Now, Mummy, listen. Philip Chew is in deep trouble. The only chance he has to work his way out of it is to talk to me. Auntie Lily needs to understand how important this is for the Chews.”

“He's in that much trouble?”

“He is.”

“All right,” her mother said slowly. “It isn't that often that you ask for my help.”

I've never asked you to help
, Ava thought, but she stopped herself from saying it out loud. “Thanks. Call me on my cell. I'll be waiting, so please don't let this drag on.”

“And don't you nag. I'll try to reach her right now.”

With a towel wrapped around her damp hair, dressed only in a black Giordano T-shirt and panties, Ava went to her computer. Mimi had emailed with two pieces of news that evidently warranted three exclamation marks each.

The first message said she was having dinner with Derek that evening. Ava felt an unease that she knew was irrational.

Derek wants to meet some women who aren't Chinese and who aren't named Mimi
, Ava wrote back.
Please introduce him to some women who have at least a modicum of intelligence. You are my best girl friend and he is my best guy friend and there are times I need to involve him in my business. There is no way I want to jeopardize either of those relationships, and the quickest way to do that is to have the two of you screwing each other.

Ava sent the reply and then opened the second message Mimi had sent. She reported that she had spoken to Maria Gonzalez that morning and urged her to contact Ava.
And say what?
Ava wondered. She deleted the email.

Ava pushed Derek, Mimi, and Maria out of her thoughts and opened a message from Marian. On Ava's last trip to Hong Kong she had met up with their father. He had told Ava he wanted the family to go on vacation together. Although he and his wife had been living apart for thirty years, Marcus still spent two weeks a year with them in Toronto.

I'm really happy about the idea of a holiday together
, Marian wrote,
especially with my girls, but I'm afraid of what Mummy will choose. She always wants to go to Las Vegas or the Bahamas or anywhere with a casino that she can spend all of her time in.

Why don't you communicate with Daddy directly?
Ava wrote.
Work it out with him yourself.
She wasn't sure if Marian would. Her elder sister was more easily intimidated by their mother than Ava, and had a more distant relationship with their father.

She wandered into the bathroom to dry her hair. She had inherited her five-foot-three, 115-pound frame from her mother. But Edward Ling was right; when she examined her features, she found signs of her father in her eyes, her nose, the shape of her face.

She turned off the hair dryer, walked back into the room, and put on the second pair of training pants she'd brought with her. She was pulling on a pair of white socks when her cellphone rang. She leapt at it. Her mother's number lit up the screen.

“Well?” Ava said.

“Write down this phone number,” Jennie Lee said.

“Kitty's?”

“No, her daughter, Maggie. Kitty doesn't want to talk to you and says her husband is in no condition to either, but Lily convinced her that someone from the family should. Maggie is their only child and is very close to them. So, Ava, don't be aggressive with her; it sounds like the family is going through a difficult time. Lily said Kitty was upset and kept asking Lily what she had heard. Lily told her that she had heard nothing, that she was just calling for you. She said you were her niece.”

It wasn't true, but Ava appreciated the small white lie. “Thanks, Mummy, and please thank Auntie Lily for me.”

“I will. Now, remember what I told you about Maggie. She is their only child, and she's still in school.”

“I'll be as nice as can be.”

Access to Maggie Chew wasn't what Ava wanted, but it was all she had. Most traditional Chinese parents shielded their children from the realities of their lives, and Maggie was a student and an only child. Well, I'll try her anyway, she was thinking, when her phone rang. She looked at the screen and saw a number she didn't know, although the country code was familiar.

“Hello,” Ava said. She heard someone breathing, and then a rough wheeze. She felt her shoulders seizing up. “Who is this?”

“Where are you?”

She looked at the time. It was close to twelve in Vancouver, which meant that it was three o'clock in the morning in Manila. “Mr. Ordonez,” she said.

“Where are you?” he repeated.

“Vancouver.”

He paused. Ava could hear his breathing become louder. “Have you spoken to my brother yet?”

“No, I haven't, and it isn't likely that I will. He doesn't seem prepared to speak to anyone, except maybe Louis Marx. And, Mr. Ordonez, from what I hear, your brother is genuinely ill. Even Marx may not have access to him anymore.”

“Chang fired Marx last night.”

“Oh,” Ava said, noticing that Ordonez had bypassed her remark about his brother's health.

“Did you find the man Cousins?”

“No.”

“Chang said you knew where he was.”

“Except he wasn't there when I arrived.”

“Chang said he was in San Francisco.”

“Yes.”

“So why are you in Vancouver?”

It was more of an accusation than a question. Ava hesitated. Her first instinct was to strike back. Instead she calmly said, “I wanted to confirm who incorporated Kelowna Valley Developments and who the shareholders were.”

“And did you?”

“Not yet.”

“When will you know?”

“Maybe later today.”

“Call me when you do.”

Ava sat upright. “Mr. Ordonez, I'm not going to do that.”

“What?”

“I don't work that way. When I'm on a job, I don't contact clients with progress reports. I keep Uncle generally up to date and he passes along to the clients all or part of what I tell him, when and how he sees fit.”

“I am not your regular type of client,” he said, his voice rising.

“I'm sorry.”

“What do you mean?”

“I'm not going to call you.”

The phone line went dead.

Ava stared at her cellphone, trying to decide if she should call Uncle.
No
, she thought,
it's too late
. Then she waited another minute, almost certain Ordonez would call back to remonstrate with her. When he didn't, she stood and walked to the desk, where she had written Maggie Chew's phone number into her notebook. She shook off her conversation with Ordonez and dialled the number.

“Hello.”

“Hello, this is Ava Lee.”

“You didn't waste any time,” the voice cracked.

“Auntie Lily said I could call.”

“I know, but it was only yesterday that I heard your name for the first time. Louis Marx called the house to speak to my father and ended up talking to me. Louis said he met you in Manila. And now Aunt Lily says you're here in Vancouver already.”

Ava felt a tiny surge of optimism. If she had been speaking to Marx, then Maggie Chew knew something was going on. “What did Louis tell you about me?”

“He said you'd been hired by my uncle but, despite that, you seemed to be fair.”

“I try to be.”

“After talking to Louis I was going to try to contact you anyway. You didn't have to drag Aunt Lily into this. Her call upset my mother. She doesn't want her friends to know that my father is going through a rough patch.”

“I'm sorry. How was I to know?”

“You couldn't, I guess.”

“I'm sorry anyway.”

“Are you really in Vancouver, like Aunt Lily said?”

“Yes.”

“You move fast.”

“It's what I do,” Ava said.

“She said you wanted to meet with my father.”

“If it's possible.”

“It isn't.”

“I see.”

“He isn't making any sense right now. I think he's had some kind of nervous breakdown. My mother and I have been trying to get him to see our family doctor or go to the hospital, but we can't get him to listen to us. He seems totally lost, like he's burrowed into himself.”

“Louis said he was distressed.”

“Catatonic is more like it.”

“I'm sorry.”

“You keep saying that.”

“What would you prefer me to say?” Ava asked.

Maggie hesitated and then said, “I'll meet with you if you want. I have some understanding of what's been going on, and I know my Uncle Tommy will be howling for blood. Maybe there's a way we can manage all of this better.”

“It certainly can't hurt,” Ava said, her optimism notching up another gear.

“Where are you calling from?”

“The Pan Pacific Hotel.”

“There's a very good Chinese restaurant near there, the Emperor's Crown, in the Marine Building in the inner harbour. Could you meet me there in about an hour? I'll be wearing a powder-blue sweatsuit.”

“Black Adidas nylon jacket and training pants,” Ava said. “And Maggie, I wish I didn't have to ask you to do this.”

“Well, I know sooner or later we'll have to talk to someone, and better you than some other people I can think of . . .”

“I'll see you in an hour,” Ava said softly.