The fact that she was prepared for the request didn’t make it any easier to hear. “Jeremy, I’ll obviously do everything I can to make that happen. I just can’t predict what kind of shape he’s going to be in.”
“Well, we can wait, you know,” he said. “This doesn’t have to be done today.”
“Yes, it does,” Ava said matter-of-factly. “We can’t miss the closing. If we miss the deadline, the Chinese will see it as a sign of weakness. We’ll be forced into yet another round of negotiations and will probably face a higher cost.”
“This is quite difficult. From my end, I mean,” he said.
There was no threat in his tone, just a kind of sad resignation, but to Ava the message was clear enough. Jeremy Bates had drawn his banker’s line in the sand. No Seto, no money. She knew from Bates’s side that it was the right thing to do, and the only thing that gave her any comfort was the subtle way in which he had chosen to tell her. She respected him for his tact, and at heart she respected the fact that he wasn’t willing to discard his sense of duty — even for her. “I’ll get Jackson out of bed and over here if I have to carry him myself,” she said.
“That would be best, Ava,” he said.
She gathered the papers together and put them in her Chanel bag. “Well, I guess I should get going.”
“I’ll walk you to the elevator,” he said, standing up.
“That’s not necessary.”
“I insist,” Bates said.
They walked side by side, Bates more awkward than she. “Where are you staying, by the way?” he asked.
“The Guildford Apartments.”
“Nice.”
“Yes, nice enough.”
“When do you leave?”
“If we wrap up today, then tomorrow.”
He pushed the elevator button for her. “Now, would you let the bank buy you and Mr. Seto dinner tonight?”
“I can’t imagine he’ll be up to it.”
“Then how about just you and me?” he said, not missing a beat.
“I would like that very much.”
He paused, his eyes wandering away from her. “You’ll call me, I trust, when Mr. Seto has signed the documents. We can arrange another appointment then. My afternoon is quite open, so there won’t be any delay on my end.”
“I’ll call,” she said.
“Excellent, and when you do, we can confirm a place and time for dinner.”
“Of course,” Ava said, with more enthusiasm than she felt.
The elevator was still hot and still slow, but her mind was preoccupied with signatures and the very unconscious Jackson Seto.
The Crown Victoria was where she had left it, with Davey in the front seat, window open, bobbing his head to the sound of Neil Diamond’s “Cracklin’ Rosie.” It made Ava think of Bangkok and Arthon. How long ago was that? And what was up with all the Neil Diamond? Robbins was sleeping, his head flung back, his mouth wide open. As she stood on the sidewalk she could smell the aroma of fresh bread coming from a bakery across the street. She suddenly felt hungry and realized she had eaten only a bag of almonds since noon the day before. She looked up and down the street and spotted a fish-and-chip restaurant a few doors down from the bakery.
She walked to the front passenger side of the car and stuck her head in the window. “I’m going to eat at that fish-and-chip place. If he wakes up, tell him where I am,” she said to Davey, and then turned and left before he had a chance to say a word.
The restaurant was plainness itself — linoleum floor, plastic chairs and tables — but it was clean, and the smell of cooking oil was muted. “I’m surprised you’re open,” Ava said to a tall, skinny man dressed entirely in white.
“Cruise ship docks in about half an hour. We’ll get swamped.”
She scanned the menu, her fish-and-chip experience limited to the occasional after-club foray with Mimi and Good Fridays with her mother and Marian when the girls were small. She couldn’t remember whether haddock or halibut was the premium choice, so she asked.
“Take the halibut,” he said.
“With chips and gravy,” Ava said.
“Mushy peas?”
“Why not?”
She felt a touch guilty when the plate was put in front of her. Loading up on grease was something — Guyana and KFC aside — she rarely did voluntarily. Now she put malt vinegar and salt and pepper on the fish and chips. A dollop of tartar sauce went on one side of the plate and ketchup on the other. She cut into the fish, the batter golden brown and surprisingly light, slathered a piece in tartar sauce, and ate it. The fish melted in her mouth.
Ava ate quickly, but she was still only halfway through the meal when the front door opened and Robbins lurched in. His eyes danced around the restaurant as if he were expecting to see something other than her sitting at a table. “What are you doing?” he demanded, his voice husky with sleep.
“What does it look like?”
“You should have asked.”
“You were sleeping.”
His hand went to his head. Ava turned her attention back to her food, not wanting a glimpse of his fingers sliding in the furrows. But the vision was already in her head. She ate a few more chips, a sliver of fish, and a forkful of bright green mushy peas, then put her utensils down. “That really was excellent,” she said to the man behind the counter.
He nodded as if he was used to hearing such compliments.
As she left the restaurant she said to Robbins, “I need to find a place where I can make some copies of documents.”
Davey had moved the car to in front of the fish-and-chip shop. Ava climbed in. “I need to make some photocopies,” she repeated.
Davey looked back at Robbins. “Go to Quickie Copy,” Robbins said.
They drove back through town, past the turnoff for Wickham’s Cay II, and continued around the southwest corner of the harbour. The copy shop was on Main Street, in the end unit of a small strip mall. Ava went inside with Robbins tagging along. She made an additional two copies of each of the papers Bates had given her. Her Jackson Seto signature was passable, she thought, but the extra copies gave her some insurance.
Back in the car she said, “And I wouldn’t mind stopping at a grocery store on the way back to the apartment.”
“Jesus Christ, this is getting stupid,” Robbins said.
“I can’t exist on nuts and potato chips.”
“There’s a market just around the corner from the apartment. I saw it as we were leaving this morning. It’s right on the way,” Davey said.
“Okay, okay, but that’s it,” said Robbins.
As Davey pulled up in front of the store, Robbins’s cellphone rang. “Wait,” he said to Ava. He listened for no more than a few seconds. “Here, it’s my brother for you,” he said, passing her the phone.
She held it away from her mouth. “I left the bank about half an hour ago,” she said, knowing that was why he had called. “Nothing is finalized, nothing is agreed. It was step one, that’s all.”
“I was going to ask if you slept well,” the Captain said.
“And then you were going to ask me about the bank.”
“That is incorrect. I was also going to ask if my brother was good company.”
“And then you were going to ask about the bank.”
“True enough.” He laughed. “So if it is just business you want to discuss, tell me how it went.”
“I didn’t get thrown of their offices, if that’s what you mean.”
“That’s the last thing I would have imagined.”
“You may be expecting too much of me, and it’s way too soon to know how this will end. The banker, Bates, is very sharp and very conscientious. He’s insisting on talking to Seto,” Ava said.
“And you’re trying to tell me that could be a problem?”
“What do you think?”
“I see the potential risk.”
“That’s an understatement.”
“Oh, I’m sure you’ll be able to handle it, Ms. Lee. I have nothing but confidence in you.”
Ava saw no reason to pursue such a pointless conversation. “Look, I have to go. I have papers to sign and things to organize.”
“What is your schedule?”
“I’m going to talk to Bates again this afternoon. If he’ll accept at face value the documents with my version of Seto’s signature, I’ll attempt to get the money wired to Hong Kong today. If that happens, and after I have confirmation, I need to email my end to initiate a wire back to you. Obviously I need to use my computer to do that, so you’ll have to instruct your brother accordingly.”