The country had one airport, with only a handful of airlines flying into it. It had no passenger railway. It did have more than eight thousand kilometres of road, but only about six hundred kilometres were actually paved, and on those it seemed that potholes were as prevalent as tarmac. A diesel-generated power grid provided about sixty percent of the country’s actual needs; blackouts were a scheduled daily occurrence. She made a note to buy a flashlight. The water quality was also iffy. She made a note to buy water purification pills.
The population was predominantly East Indian, the descendants of indentured servants. But there was also a very large black population, the descendants of slaves. The two groups had a long history of antagonism. The rest were remnants of the original Carib Indians, a tiny group identified as European, and a small group of Chinese. The country had a remarkably high crime rate but also boasted one of the world’s tallest wooden structures, an Anglican cathedral.
All in all, it didn’t sound like a holiday destination.
Ava called downstairs to the concierge and told him she needed to buy a flashlight and some water purification pills. He told her she would find everything she needed at CentralWorld.
The shopping complex is on Ratchadamri Road almost kitty-corner from the Erawan Shrine, a five-minute walk from the hotel. CentralWorld is eight storeys high, and with more than half a million square metres of shopping space, it is the world’s third-largest shopping complex. Ava found what she wanted, but only after a half-hour hunt.
Her shopping done, she settled in at the mall for her first full Thai meal since her arrival. She had just ordered when her cellphone rang. The caller was using a number blocker. She answered, since not many people had her number — only those she actually wanted to have it.
“Ava, this is Andrew Tam.” He sounded nervous. “My uncle hasn’t been able to get hold of your uncle. He is concerned about how things are proceeding.”
“Andrew, please tell your uncle that when I’m on a case, I don’t give my uncle daily updates. It’s like I told you: when I have something to report, I’ll call.”
“It’s getting quite tense around here. I’m under tremendous pressure from my family. I also have a meeting with my bank next week, and they’re going to be asking some awkward questions. I’m not a very good liar.”
“So this is about you, not your uncle.”
“I am worried.”
“Andrew, I have located the money. I know where it is. Now I have to go and get it. That sounds easier than it might turn out to be, which is why I haven’t called you. Until I actually have the money, I have nothing and you have nothing.”
“You’ve found it!” he said, grasping at the good news and ignoring the caveats.
“I have.”
“Fantastic.”
“Not until I get it.”
“This is a great start, though, isn’t it? I mean — ”
“Andrew, stop,” she said. “Look, you can tell the bank and your uncle whatever you want. If you need to buy some time, do it. I have found the money and I’m going after it. That doesn’t mean anything until I get it. You do understand that? I’m not going to make any promises, I’m not going to give you timelines.”
“Well, all I can say is that we believe in you.”
She sighed. “What you mean is that you have no choice but to believe in me. That’s a different thing. You don’t know me, you don’t know me at all. I don’t like dealing in blind faith, which is why you haven’t heard from me, and which is why, Andrew, you will not hear from me again until I can tell you either that I have the money or that I can’t get the money. And when I say you won’t hear from me again, it also means that under no circumstances are you to call me again. Are we agreed?”
“Yes,” he said.
“Now, there is one thing I do need from you. I was going to relay it through Uncle but — since we’re talking already — I need your bank information. On the chance that I can get to the money, the best way to move it will be a wire transfer. So email me all the particulars from your bank. I’ll need the bank name and address, the account name and address, and the bank’s IBN number and its SWIFT.”
“I’ll send it today.”
“Tomorrow will be fine.”
“Do you mind if I ask where the money actually is?”
“I’ll call you when I have some hard information. Until then, try to relax.” She closed the phone.
There were times when Ava disliked the way she had to act. Tam was a nice enough guy; he was just looking for any comforting news he could get. She had learned the hard way that clients who were desperate — and hers were nearly always desperate — heard what they wanted to hear. A glimmer of hope would become a done deal. And if by chance she didn’t deliver, all of a sudden she was the villain, the heartbreaker, the liar.
When Ava got back to the hotel, she packed her bag and got ready to go to the airport. The travel agent had already booked and confirmed the flights by email. She had also put her into the Hilton Hotel in Port of Spain and the Phoenix in Georgetown, and had arranged for hotel limos to meet her when she landed.
Ava smiled when she read the agent’s comment about the Phoenix: It has three stars, but every other hotel is one or two. What kind of place is this? But she didn’t smile when she read what followed: Every travel guide says to exercise extreme caution in Georgetown. Going out alone, even during the day, is not recommended.
(15)
Ava landed in Port of Spain right on schedule at 7 p.m. It was already dark. Trinidad is in the southernmost reaches of the Caribbean, and fifty-two weeks a year, the sun falls like a stone behind the western mountain range at 6 p.m. From the air and all lit up, the city looked bigger than she had imagined. She guessed it was also a hell of a lot prettier from where she sat than it was on the ground.
She coasted through Immigration, Customs, and baggage claim, stepping out into air that was Thailand humid but filled with unfamiliar odours. Rotting leaves. Dead birds. Dog shit. Gas fumes. She couldn’t put a fix on it, but she nearly gagged. When Ava walked through the Arrivals gate, she saw a large black man standing at the curb in front of a Lincoln Continental. He was holding a sign with her name on it. She signalled to him, he opened the back door, and she climbed in.
“That’s some smell,” she said.
“Mainly dead vegetation,” he said.
She didn’t need more detail. “How far to the hotel?”
“About half an hour.”
For once she hadn’t overslept on the plane. She had caught about eight hours en route to New York and that had been it. She was sleepy, which was good, because she wanted to be fresh the next day.
“Are you here on vacation or business?” he asked.
“Business.”
“Staying long?”
“Just overnight. Tomorrow I head for Guyana. My business is there.”
“Guyana. That is… one… crazy… place,” he said.
“Have you been?”
“Don’t have to go to know. We hear the stories — there are always stories. Nothing works. Can’t trust no one. Can’t go out at night with even a ten-dollar watch on your wrist. We get some of them here, Guyanese. They come with suitcases filled with shrimp and go from hotel to hotel and restaurant to restaurant trying to sell it. As if the chef at the Hilton is going to buy shrimp from some guy selling it out of a suitcase.”
“Someone must be buying it or they wouldn’t keep coming,” she said.
He looked at her in his rear-view mirror to see if she was making fun of him. Ava wasn’t laughing.