The Scottish Banker of Surabaya - By Ian Hamilton Page 0,119

be kept entirely out of the loop.”

“It won’t be anyone here speaking to them, but I will pass that information along,” Torsney said.

“Thank you.”

Half an hour later, Torsney called again. “You will be dealing with Ryan Poirier. He is our senior man at the embassy in Jakarta. He’s feeling out the Indonesians as we speak. You can expect to hear from him before the night is out.”

“Is he RCMP or Canadian Security Intelligence Service?”

“He’s the assistant commercial minister at the embassy.”

“Marc is the assistant trade commissioner at the high commission in Georgetown.”

“Ryan also wears several hats. It’s up to him if he wishes to expand on that.”

One more twist, Ava thought. First, so much for Marc Lafontaine, and now, so much for Ottawa. She couldn’t help but feel that whatever control she thought she had was slipping away as she got passed along the chain of command.

( 44 )

Ryan Poirier called her two hours later. With a name like Poirier, Ava had expected at least a hint of a French-Canadian accent, but if anything his deep, rumbling voice contained traces of a Scottish brogue.

“Well, you’ve turned my Monday evening into an adventure,” he said. “That is quite the story that Ottawa relayed. I can only hope it doesn’t turn out to be a pig in a poke.”

“I’m impressed that you think enough of it to work late on a Monday night.”

“If it’s real, it warrants the effort.”

“It’s real enough.”

“Ms. Kwong, what kind of business do you run that brings in clients like the one you have now?”

“My name is Jennie. I’m an accountant, and my partner and I have a debt-collection business.”

“This is a little different, no?”

“Not as much as you might think. At the end of the day, it’s all about getting paid. We negotiate settlements all the time in the course of our business. This one is a bit odder than most, but money is money.”

“Yes, the money does seem to be your primary motivation.”

“Do you have a problem with that?”

“Not as long as the rest of the story holds together and we can capture some bad guys.”

“Like I said, it’s all real.”

“Well, real or not, it’s going to be you and me who carry the load now — along with the Indonesians, of course,” he said.

“Does that mean you’ve struck a deal with them?”

“A tentative one. They won’t sign off completely until they have all the details about the shipment, but assuming there isn’t any dramatic change from what I’ve been told, there shouldn’t be a problem. They were more reluctant to commit to turning over as much as thirty million dollars to a third party.”

“Were?”

“They have now been persuaded.”

“Mr. Poirier, you did keep Customs out of this?”

“I spoke to a senior military officer. No one else is involved or needs to be involved.”

“So where does that leave us?”

“We need to get prepared for tomorrow night, and that starts with you telling me absolutely everything you know about the shipment.”

“The money will arrive by plane, a private jet owned by or registered to a company called Brava Italia.”

“What time?”

“I don’t know, but they will have had to file a flight plan. They’ve been arriving every Tuesday night for some time now, so we should be able to run a background check and see what’s normal.”

“Always into Surabaya?”

“Yes. They have some kind of deal with the Customs people there.”

“Just the pilot and co-pilot on board?”

“That’s what I’m told.”

“And not armed?”

“Correct.”

“What happens after it lands?”

“It’s taken to a hangar. The Italians meet it there to unload the money. They use a panel truck to transport it to the bank.”

“How many guards?”

“I’m told it’s just the two Italians. Normally my client would be there as well, but obviously he isn’t available.”

“Do these Italians have names?”

“Foti and Chorico.”

“And we should assume the Italians are carrying weapons?”

“Definitely.”

“Do they always use the same hangar?”

“I don’t know.”

“Ask your client.”

“He’s out of reach right now. He’s paranoid about getting in touch with anyone until he gets his money. I have a prearranged time to call him tomorrow night.”

“Out of reach?”

“He’s in hiding.”

“Get him out of hiding. I need him to be at the airport tomorrow night.”

“Not a chance,” Ava said.

“That represents a problem for me,” Poirier said slowly.

“Why?”

“The plan is to have a squad of Indonesian security forces there to meet the plane. They’re superbly trained professional soldiers and will be led by a captain who happens to be a friend. So it will be them and me. And if, for whatever reason, the plane