The Red Pole of Macau (11 page)

“Andy, take a look at the wire that’s strung along the top of the wall and tell me what you think it is,” she said, giving him the binoculars.

He adjusted the focus, stared down at the house, adjusted it again, and then said, “Electric.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yeah, I can see the connections leading back to the house.”

“Two strands?”

“In some places three, and they’re unevenly strung.”

“Now take a hard look at the gate. What do you think?”

“It rolls. I can see tracks embedded in the concrete. It
could be electric too,” he said, and paused. “And that isn’t just razor wire on top. I can see electric wire strung through it.”

“Could we force our way through it?”

He stared down, his lips pressed together in concentration. “It would be tough,” he finally said.

“Impossible?”

“No, tough. We’d have to blow it, or ram it with something huge, like a truck. Something with serious weight and power.”

“Geez, I’ve seen prisons that weren’t as secure.”

“Except this place is built to keep people out,” Andy said. “Who lives there?”

“Kao Lok.”

“Then I’m not that surprised. Until two or three years ago the Macau gangs were constantly at war with each other and at the same time beating off the Hong Kong gangs trying to grab a piece of the action here. There were lots of attacks, ambushes, shootouts.”

“Funny, he doesn’t have any floodlights I can see.”

“With all that other stuff why would he need them?”

All that other stuff indeed
, Ava thought. She had figured it wasn’t going to be easy, but this was more difficult even than she’d expected. “Andy, we’ll take turns with the binoculars.” She passed him a piece of paper and a pen. “You can start by writing down the licence plate numbers of those cars. Then I want you to keep track of everyone coming and going from the house. I need to get some idea of how many people are actually in there. Will the camera work from this range?”

“It should, but I’m not a hundred percent sure.”

“Take photos anyway, and then note any physical details that are obvious, for backup.”

“Okay, boss.”

“I’m going downstairs for a coffee. I’ll be back in about half an hour. Does this place close?”

“Six o’clock.”

There was a small shop off to one side of the parking lot. Ava found a table, ordered a black coffee, and took out her cellphone to call Carlo, who was at Lok’s warehouse in Macau. “How’s it going?” she asked.

“In the past hour I’ve seen two trucks make deliveries and about five cars and another truck make pickups of cases of wine. It’s a real business.”

“How are you so sure?”

“Ava, the place is wide open. They’ve got three loading docks with the doors pulled up, so I can see inside. It’s an open space with cases of wine stacked here and there. I can see one office door and the rest of it is open warehouse.”

“Is there a second floor, a basement?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Go inside. Tell them you want to buy some wine for a restaurant you’re opening. Ask to talk to the boss. I’ll call you back in a while.”

She thought about calling Amanda and then parked the idea. The girl was nervous enough without being harassed. Ava turned off her phone.

She sipped one coffee and then another, watching a steady stream of tourists come and go. The place was a real attraction, the countryside and the shoreline gorgeous. Ava’s view of Macau as an urban jungle shifted ever so slightly, and then she wondered how long it would take before they ruined it all.

She left the café and climbed the stairs to A-Ma and Andy.
Maybe the presence of the goddess will protect this area from the developers
, she thought.

Andy hadn’t moved from the spot she’d left him, the binoculars glued to his eyes. She tapped him on the shoulder. “What do you have?” she asked.

“Two guys came out of the house, got into the van, and left.”

“Who opened the gate?”

“It started to open automatically and then two other guys came out of the house to push it. It was slow, real slow. That is one monster of a gate.”

“I’ll take over now,” she said.

“I’ll go downstairs for a drink, if you don’t mind.”

“Take your time,” she said.

For half an hour she scanned every inch of the house, looked in every window, examined and re-examined the wire and the gate. She saw no movement in the house. The wire was definitely electric, and Andy was right about how craftily it had been strung. The gate was beginning to haunt her. She couldn’t see how they could get over it, and going through it would be a test.

Just as boredom was setting in, the double doors at the front of the house swung open. Two tall blonde women in short, clingy dresses appeared in the doorway. Macau was famous for its Russian hookers, and Ava guessed that’s what they were. A Chinese woman, also dressed for nightclubbing, followed. They walked into the courtyard, stopped, and looked back.

Ava put down the binoculars, picked up the camera, and took a couple of quick shots. She picked up the binoculars again and saw Lok, Wu, and a third man come to the door. Wu’s right arm was wrapped in a cast that covered his hand and went all the way to the elbow. The man Ava didn’t recognize ran towards the cars. He got into the Nissan and drove over to the women. They waved to Lok and Wu and then climbed in. The car idled in front of the gate as it inched open almost ponderously.
Andy was right again
, Ava thought.
It is a monster
.

She counted slowly to twenty before the gate was fully open. The Nissan sped through. Wu went back into the house while Lok stayed on the doorstep, checking his watch. The gate didn’t close.
He’s expecting someone
, she thought.

Then she saw the white van appear from the dirt road she’d been on earlier. It rolled across the expanse in front of the house and through the gate. The gate began to close. The van parked by a garage door and two men jumped out and walked towards the house.

As they got closer, Lok took a couple of steps towards them and held out his hand. The man farthest from Ava, who was partially obscured by the other, held out his, and Ava saw a newspaper. She zoomed in as tightly as she could. It was the
South China Morning Post
.

Oh God
, she thought, as she checked her watch. It was one fifteen. Lok was supposed to have sent a photo of Simon at noon and she was supposed to have called Michael. She reached for her cell and turned it on. “Michael, it’s Ava.”

“Shit, Ava, I’ve been trying to reach you or Amanda for more than half an hour.”

“Sorry, my phone was off.”

He was in a panic. “I didn’t get a photo.”

“I’m not surprised.”

“What do you mean?”

“Nothing. Go on; have you called Lok?”

“Yeah. When it didn’t get here by twelve, I didn’t overreact. I gave it another half hour before I called him.”

“What did he say?”

“That he’d been tied up with something and would get it to me before two o’clock.”

“Was he apologetic?”

“Are you kidding? Not in the least,” he said. “Ava, I’m concerned something has happened to Simon already.”

“Relax, Michael. It’s entirely possible that Lok was tied up by someone, if not something, else and I’m reasonably sure you will get the photo before two.”

“I wish I was as sure.”

She could sense him starting to totter again, and wondered if letting Amanda leave the apartment was such a good idea. “You’ll get the photo. Just call me when you do. I won’t turn off my cellphone again for the rest of the day.”

“I keep thinking about him.”

“I understand.”

“And when I’m not thinking about him, I’m thinking about the money. Ava, just how the hell are you going to get it, and if you do, how are we ever going to pay it back?”

“Michael, that’s the second time you’ve asked me that question, and my answer hasn’t changed. I’m working on some things that may not involve money, or at least that much money. There may be room for negotiation after all, but honestly I don’t want to talk about it, especially over the phone. So please, let me do my thing. We have a deadline; I’m working to it. We can talk when I’m back in Hong Kong.”

“You aren’t in Hong Kong?” he said.

Geez, why did I say that?
she thought. “I’m in China,” she half lied. “I have some contacts here that may be helpful. I should be back tomorrow, and I’ll call when I do.”

He went silent. “Phone me when you get the photo,” she said.

She spent the next twenty minutes with the glasses fixed on the house, and saw nothing. When Andy came to relieve her, she said, “I don’t know how much more we’re going to learn here. We’ll give it another half hour or so and then decide if we stay or go.”

Michael called as she turned to go back down to the café. “I got the photo. Simon looks okay.”

“See, I told you.”

“I’m not used to this kind of stress.”

“Who is? Look, stay calm. I’ll talk to you tomorrow,” she called, looking back as she reached the bottom of the hill.

Ava checked her watch and decided to call Carlo. “It is a warehouse, and that’s it,” he said, sounding bored. “I even got into the office to meet the manager and was given a little tour.”

“What are you doing now?”

“Waiting for you.”

“We won’t be that much longer, I think, and then we’ll meet you in Macau. Find a one-hour photo place for me, will you, and phone me with the address. That’s where we’ll hook up.”

She tried Amanda’s cell and it went right to voicemail. “Amanda, this is Ava. It’s going on two o’clock and Andy and I will be back in Macau probably around three. Hope things are going well. Call me when you can.”

Ava downed another coffee and left the café.

Andy was still doing surveillance when she returned to the A-Ma statue. “Anything?” she asked.

“Yeah, there are two more guys I didn’t see before. They’re in the yard, washing the BMW.”

Ava took the binoculars. She didn’t recognize them either.

“So, that’s five of them at least, plus Lok and Wu. There were two more with them the other day that I haven’t seen, so we could be talking nine.”

They took turns with the binoculars and the camera, but after the men went inside there wasn’t any other activity to record and Ava began to get restless. “How hard is it to find a one-hour photo shop?” she said to Andy.

“What?”

“Never mind.”

She waited another ten minutes and then called Carlo. “Haven’t you found anything yet?”

“I just did, and it was harder than you think.”

“Where is it?”

“Next to the Kingsway Hotel, in Porto Exterior.”

“Name?”

“Super Photo.”

“We’ll be there in less than half an hour.”

They ate in a Portuguese restaurant almost directly across the street from the one-hour shop. Ava had dropped off the camera’s memory card, offering to pay double if she could get two sets of prints in half an hour. Now she waited, in no mood for chit-chat and her appetite not functioning at its usual level. She picked at the bacalao, took a couple of bites of African chicken, and chewed a couple of slices of bread.

The boys made up for her lack of hunger. Carlo worked as a bookie during the Hong Kong racing season, and Andy loved to play the horses. As they ate, they dissected jockeys, trainers, and the relative merits of post positions at Happy Valley and Sha Tin racetracks. In Hong Kong, horse racing was a national sport. The season lasted only six months, with races on Wednesdays and Sundays, alternating between the two tracks, but when the season was in swing, it was all some people cared about. Every newspaper, every day, was filled with racing news. The television stations covered both the racing and the training sessions.

They worked through a whole loaf of bread and two servings of salted cod and demolished the chicken. She had always admired their ability to remain focused on the moment, whether it involved horse racing, food, or covering her back. They were arguing about whether the South African Douglas Whyte or the Australian Brett Prebble was going to be jockey of the year, at the same time dipping bread from a second loaf into the chicken sauce, when Ava checked her watch and saw that half an hour was up.

“I’ll be back,” she said.

The clerk saw her coming through the door, gave her a broad smile, and pointed to the envelope on the counter. “They were done ten minutes ago. I should get a bonus,” he said.

She opened it. The photos were good, not great, but the faces were distinct enough. “How much do I owe you?”

“At the double rate, three hundred.”

Ava paid him and went back across the street to the restaurant. Carlo and Andy had finished lunch and were smoking. She collected the bill from the table, settled it with the cashier, and then said to the boys, “Outside. I can’t breathe in here.”

She pulled the photos from the envelope and passed a set to Andy. “Not too bad from that distance,” he said.

“These are of the three women I saw leaving in the Nissan. Two of them look Russian. I’m sure all three are hookers.”

“Home delivery service,” Carlo said.

“Whatever. The thing is, I need you to find at least one of them.”

“And then what?”

“I want to talk to her.”

“How will we arrange that?”

“I’ll come to her or you can bring her to me, it doesn’t matter.”

Carlo frowned.

“What is it?” she asked.

“These girls normally aren’t very talkative.”

“What do you mean?”

“Whichever one I find first, if I tell her that you just want to talk to her —”

“I’ll pay.”

“She’ll get suspicious as hell, pay or not.”

“What do you suggest?”

“I’ll just say I want a good fuck and that a friend recommended her to me.” He looked across the street. “Take a room at the Kingsway and then phone me with the number. I’ll take the girl there. Once she’s in the room you can handle her.”

Ava nodded. “You seem sure you can find one.”

“If they’re in Macau, I’ll find at least one.”

“He knows every mama-san over here,” Andy said. “And there isn’t a whore who operates without one.”

“If I have a choice, I’d prefer the Chinese one.”

“Okay, I’ll target her first.”

“Take Andy with you. I’ll call you with the room number as soon as I have it. Now, do you need any money?”

Carlo looked offended. “Hey, I won’t have to pay up front.”

Ava went to the car and retrieved Andy’s carryall, then climbed the ramp to the hotel entrance. The Kingsway was a three-star hotel, part of Stanley Ho’s empire. It wasn’t so fancy that a hooker going through the lobby would be bothered. Ava didn’t think of that until she stood inside the hotel entrance, and wondered if that’s why Carlo had suggested it.

She asked for a room on the eighth floor, wanting all the luck she could get. To her surprise one was available, a corner suite. She took it. Calling it a suite was a stretch. There was a sitting room and a separate bedroom, but they were small and, even though sparsely furnished, looked cramped. It was furnished in rattan: a couch and two easy chairs with floral cushions in the sitting room and a double bed and three-drawer dresser. The floors were covered in a pale green carpet that felt and smelled new. Ava walked to the window and looked out. The hotel was in old Macau, near the Porto Exterior, and from her window she had a great view of the old town and the new development around the port. She called Carlo. “The Kingsway, room 808,” she said.

“I’ll phone when I’m on the way.”

She pulled the cover off the bed and fell onto the clean sheets. She thought about napping, and then Amanda popped into her head. Where was that girl?

She tried her cell again and this time Amanda answered. “Ava, I’m just leaving the construction company office and it’s very noisy around here. I’ll call you back in a minute.”

The minute turned into two, and then five. Ava was just beginning to worry when Amanda’s name popped up on her phone screen. “Sorry, he wouldn’t let me go,” Amanda said. “He’s spent the past half hour trying to convince me to build another kind of house, and the hour before he drove me all over Macau looking at examples of his work.”

“Congratulations — I assume you have the plans.”

“Plans? I have plans for four different houses. He made me take all of them to show to my husband.”

“Good girl. Any problems?”

“I had to spend a hundred dollars at the registry office.”

“Other than that?”

“No. It amazes me; I’ve spent my whole life being truthful, and I had no idea that people could accept me for something other than who I am.”

“Look, we’ll talk when we meet,” Ava said. “I’ve taken a room at the Kingsway Hotel, room 808. It’s on Rua de Luís Gonzaga Gomes, in old Macau, near the port. Come on over.”

“I’m getting in a taxi right now.”

Ava lay back on the bed and closed her eyes. They had floor plans, but to what purpose? She thought about the house and inwardly groaned. The only thing the least bit encouraging was its isolation — no neighbours within sight or hopefully within hearing distance. Other than that, it was a son of bitch, a complete son of a bitch.

She dozed, waking with a start at the rapping on the door. She blinked, not sure where she was.

“Ava, it’s Amanda.”

Ava got up and opened the door. Amanda stood there, a cardboard tube stuck under her arm, construction dust in her hair and coating her shoes. “Here — the fruits of my lies and a hundred dollars,” she said.

“Money well spent and lies well told,” Ava said.

“Thanks, I think.”

“You need to wash,” Ava said, reaching for the tube.

“I know, and I’m parched and hungry.”

“Those things are easy to fix.”

Amanda walked past Ava. “Why did you take a room here?”

“We’re waiting for a hooker.”