The Scottish Banker of Surabaya - By Ian Hamilton Page 0,105
you ever been chemically stimulated?”
“No, I make do with wine, but I hope you get the picture.”
“I make do with beer, and speaking of which, I need another. Give me a minute.”
She heard footsteps, a fridge opening and closing, a bottle being uncapped, and then more footsteps, followed by a sigh. “Okay, just so I’m absolutely clear, you’re calling me on a personal matter?”
“No, it’s business, and I’m sorry if I’m being vague. What I meant by involving you on a personal level is that I need someone to act as a go-between, a negotiator, if you will.”
“I’m an RCMP officer. I don’t freelance.”
“I know. What I need you to do is negotiate with the RCMP for me, on behalf of a client.”
“Do you have any idea how strange that sounds?”
“A bit.”
“Okay, that aside, negotiate what?”
“My client has some information that he wants to pass along — actually, information he wants to sell.”
“Ava, what could that possibly have to do with me? I’m a one-man band in a South American backwater. What kind of authority or influence do you think I have?”
“Marc, the client has hired my firm to represent his interests. Our firm has decided that the RCMP are the best fit for the information he has to sell. You’re the only Mountie I trust enough to have even a preliminary discussion with. That’s the reason for the phone call.”
“You’ve met me exactly twice.”
“I know. But my partner, who is an elderly Chinese man with a colourful past, has often said to me that when it comes to trust, there is no test. If your instincts tell you to trust someone, there should be no degrees. Naive or not, I trust you.”
“And I like to think — egotistical or not — that I am worthy of that trust.”
“So can we talk with the understanding that whatever I say will be kept strictly between us, unless I decide otherwise?”
“Sure,” he said softly. “You’ve already spiced up what would have been a hot, humid, and empty Sunday. You have my attention and my word, although I have to be truthful and say I’m not sure what benefit you can expect from sharing confidences with me.”
“Let me be the judge of that.”
“Obviously. I just don’t want you to have unrealistic expectations.”
“Point taken — and this phone line is secure?”
“Worried about Captain Robbins again?”
“Yes.”
“The line is secure.”
“Okay, so let me try to explain as simply as possible what’s happened. Like I said, we have a client, whom I can’t name right now, who has been managing a bank in Indonesia. There’s been a rift between him and the bank’s owners, and he’s decided to resign his position and move to a safer environment.”
“What did he do, abscond with bank funds?”
“No, nothing like that.”
“So why did you use the word safer?”
“Because if the bank owners find him, they’ll kill him.”
“Ah, now that’s something I didn’t expect to hear. What could your Indonesian banker have done to justify that?”
“He isn’t Indonesian; he’s Scottish. And the bank owners aren’t Indonesian either. They’re Italian.”
“Jesus Christ.”
“I know, it sounds convoluted, but it really isn’t.”
“So far I’m not convinced.”
Ava had been sitting at the desk. Now she moved to the bed, propped up the pillows, and lay back. She drew a deep breath. “Have you heard of the ’Ndrangheta?”
“Of course.”
“What do you know about them?”
“They’re a mob — a big, powerful Italian mob.”
“They’re the bank’s owners.”
Lafontaine went silent. She heard him breathing, and then what sounded like a beer bottle being placed on a glass table. “Did you hear me?” she asked.
“How in hell do you know something like that?”
“My client managed the bank for them.”
“And you believe him?”
“When he left Indonesia, he was carrying with him enough information to convince anyone of that fact.”
“You said earlier there was a rift between him and them. What happened?”
“He was indiscreet and they found out. He managed to leave before they could get their hands on him.”
“So he’s in hiding?”
“Yes, and he approached us to help him find a way to make that permanent.”
“How could you do that?”
“He needs to start a new life. He needs to relocate his family. He knows he’ll never be able to work again, so he needs money.”
“And he hired you to find him the money?”
“Yes, that’s what we do — find money. This case is a bit different than most, but money is money.”
Lafontaine became quiet again. Ava was wondering if he had gone to fetch another beer when he said, “I’m still not sure