“I can’t leave Jackson alone that long.”
“I understand,” he said slowly.
She paused. “Jeremy, did my wires get transmitted in the midst of this other activity?”
“Of course. They went out late this afternoon.”
“Wonderful. Thank you.”
“My pleasure.”
“And the copies for our records?”
“They’re right here in front of me. You’re only a couple of minutes from the bank. Would you care to walk over?”
“Sure.”
“There’s a night bell in the lobby. Ring it when you get here. I’ll have to come down and let you in.”
She left the restaurant and retraced her steps to the Crown Victoria. Robbins stood outside, leaning against the car. “What’s going on? You get stood up?”
“He can’t make it — some other business — but the wire has been sent and I’m going over to the bank to get a copy of the confirmation.”
“We’ll drive you.”
“I’ll walk. You know where I’m going. Follow me if you want.”
She took her time, enjoying the fresh evening air, the breeze from the Caribbean drifting inland. In a different time, under different circumstances, I might actually enjoy this place, she thought.
The Crown Victoria passed her on Fyfe Street, drove past the bank, and parked about twenty metres past the double doors to Simon House. Robbins stared at her through the rear window.
Ava walked into the lobby; the corridors to the left and right were closed off, sealed by what looked like fire doors. She pressed the night bell next to the elevator, stood back, and waited. It took Bates a couple of minutes to reach her. She had half expected him to bring the documents with him, but he was empty-handed except for the plastic card that activated the elevator during off-hours. “Let’s go upstairs and we’ll get things sorted,” he said.
Sorted? She wasn’t crazy about his word choice. Neither was she comforted by his body language, which seemed stiffer, more awkward. Something’s happened, she thought. She just couldn’t think what.
Bates led her past the Barrett's reception desk and into his office. The bank was deserted.
They sat in the same chairs they had occupied that morning. It seemed to her like a very long time ago. There was a brown envelope on the table. Bates placed a hand on it.
“Ava, there is something I need to discuss with you,” he said, his eyes averted. “I wouldn’t do this normally, but I think we have struck up a good enough relationship that I feel I can share some information that has come to my attention.”
She saw that he was tense, his lips tightly drawn. She fought back a sense of foreboding, flashing an encouraging smile in his direction. “Please, Jeremy, feel free.”
“I received a phone call from a bank in Dallas late this afternoon, just after we sent your wires. It’s the bank that recently sent us electronically two very large transfers from Jackson Seto. The call was in confidence — a courtesy, one bank colleague to another — and I have to ask you to honour the spirit in which it was made.”
“Of course. You can be assured of my discretion,” Ava said.
“The bank… the banker advised me that they were contacted by an investigator from the U.S. Treasury Department about a week ago with regard to Mr. Seto. The Treasury official said that Mr. Seto was being investigated on suspicion of money laundering.”
“Good God, I can’t imagine — ” she began.
“Ava, how long have you known Jackson Seto?” Bates asked. His eyes were full of concern.
“A few months, no more than that, and only because Dynamic introduced us and wanted us to help with the financial side of this transaction.”
“I think it’s only fair to tell you that I ran some checks on Dynamic and your accounting firm after that phone call.”
“That’s understandable.”
“Both companies, of course, reported well — long-standing, excellent reputations — so I’m not suggesting even for a second that either would be involved in some illegal operation.”
“I should think not,” Ava said.
“Seto is another matter,” Bates said. She noted that the honorific had disappeared. “His account has been a minor concern for some time, and I say minor because until recently there wasn’t that much money going through it. I went through some of the bank’s files. We’ve had calls from lawyers and the like before, asking questions about him and his account. There were claims that he misappropriated funds. There was no proof, of course, and the chap who was here before me let the matter slide. Even if he hadn’t, of course, the bank would hardly be able to just give the money back.”
Ava sighed. “I had no knowledge of any of this, and I’m sure Dynamic doesn’t either. As far as I can tell, Seto was referred to them, and vouched for, by a cousin of the CEO.”
“Well, now you’ve been warned.”
“Has the Treasury Department taken any action?”
“No, not according to the Dallas banker, and he should be in a position to know.”
“So it’s supposition at this point?”
“Precisely.”
“Still, I’m going to speak to my boss and make sure he talks to Dynamic. Knowing him and them as well as I do, I imagine they will distance themselves from Seto as quickly as they can. We are committed to concluding this transaction, but after that I can’t see them conducting any more business with him.”
“I’m of the same mind,” Bates said, a trace of anger in his voice. “My bank has an operating code of ethics that is the very first thing new recruits have drummed into them. We have survived and thrived for more than two hundred years by doing business completely within the letter of the law. If the U.S. government ever charged Seto with money laundering and our bank was somehow implicated, I can tell you it would end the career of everyone who had put a finger to it.”
He’s worried, genuinely worried, Ava realized. “Jeremy, I’m absolutely sure nothing will come of this,” she said softly. “Money laundering is easy to say and hard to prove. Has the Treasury Department contacted you yet?”
“No.”
“There you go. If they were really bearing down on Seto I’m sure they would have contacted you by now. The Dallas bank told them where they sent his money, yes?”
Bates nodded.
“So the fact that a week has passed and they haven’t followed up with even a phone call does tell you something. You won’t hear from them. I’m sure of it.”
“I thought that as well.”
“Anyway, Treasury Department or not, we will cut ourselves free of him after this.”
“As will the bank. I’m going to close his account as soon as your wires clear. When you see him, tell him I need to talk to him privately. He can come here or I will come to the apartment.”
Ava sat back. “Jeremy, do you think you could delay doing anything until I leave? This is quite uncomfortable for me. I was going to stay with him until he was well enough to travel, but now I have to call Hong Kong and probably adjust my plans. I would appreciate it if you could hold off until I have some direction.”
“Of course,” Bates said, his hand reaching across the table as he passed over the envelope.
Ava touched his fingers and then pulled back. She looked at the brown envelope. “Are those my copies?” she asked.
“Yes, of course. Forgive me for getting distracted,” he said.
She opened it and took out the confirmations. Both had been registered at 4:15 p.m. “Thank you so much.”
“It was my pleasure. I’m just sorry about dinner. Maybe tomorrow night?”
“If I’m here — and I think I will be — I’d love it.”
He walked her to the elevator, his hand lightly touching her elbow, a display of interest that confirmed what she had already decided: it was time to leave Tortola.
As the elevator door closed, Jeremy Bates left her life as completely as if he’d never been in it. During the ride down and halfway across the lobby, the Robbins brothers consumed all her attention. But it wasn’t until she was nearly out the door that it dawned on her she was taking some things about them for granted. She stopped, opened the envelope, and took out the wire confirmation for the two million that had gone to Uncle. She folded it into a small square and tucked it inside her underwear.