The Scottish Banker of Surabaya - By Ian Hamilton Page 0,34

outside District 1. Ava didn’t see any street sign where Tran made his turn, and she didn’t see anything but warehouse walls and garage doors until they neared the end. The house was sealed off from the main road by the street. It was red brick, two storeys, with a window on either side of the door and four windows across the second floor. Ava looked around and couldn’t see any other residences. “What a strange place for a house,” she said.

“This street used to house some of the minor officials from the French embassy when we were still a French colony. When the French left, we razed the street on both sides and built those warehouses. Somehow this house survived.”

A black wrought-iron fence ran along the property line at the front of the house. There was a red-brick walkway about twenty metres long, flanked by grass, flowerbeds, and what looked like several small vegetable gardens. A small man or boy was working in one of the gardens, his back to the road.

Tran stopped the car well short of the fence. “That’s your man, I think,” he said.

Ava opened her bag and took out her notebook and a pen. She opened the car door and walked towards the fence, her shoes clattering lightly on the concrete. The figure in the garden didn’t move. “Mr. Lam, my name is Ava Lee, and I’ve come all the way from Toronto to speak with you,” she said as she neared him.

She saw his back stiffen. She could have unlatched the gate and walked through, but all her senses told her to wait for him to react. He resumed his gardening.

“I’m an accountant, like you and your friend Joey Lac. I’m not here to do you any harm. I simply want to talk to you.”

Now he turned, glancing over his shoulder first at her, then at the police car. A look of panic leapt into his eyes. He started to struggle to his feet. “Mr. Lam, the police simply drove me here as a courtesy. They have no interest in what happened in Toronto, no part in any of this at all.”

He began to walk towards the house.

“Mr. Lam, please don’t go. I would like you to invite me onto the property so we can speak. And I have to tell you, I won’t leave until I get that chance. So let’s make this easy on both of us, shall we?” And then she said loudly, “Please.”

He stopped. Ava counted to ten and then said again, “Please.”

When he turned towards her, she was shocked at how gaunt he was. He had hollows in his cheeks, his eyes were rimmed with shadows. If it hadn’t been for his thick moustache she might not have recognized him. One thing was certain: he sure didn’t look like a successful con man.

“Come in,” he said.

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She opened the fence and started up the walkway. He went on ahead to the front door, opened it, and then stood in the doorway until she reached it. Ava held out her hand.

He looked at it suspiciously. “I knew they’d send someone. I knew eventually they’d find me, especially after I saw that woman at the hotel.”

“Who are ‘they’?”

“My investors.”

“Well, you’re right, of course. They did send me.”

“And who else?”

“We’re not playing a game of bait-and-switch, Mr. Lam. There is no one with a baseball bat lurking in the shadows. I’m all they sent. And truthfully, they don’t know exactly where you are, because I haven’t told them.”

He stood to one side. “Come in,” he said.

The house was smaller than it looked from the outside. The main floor consisted of a hallway with a kitchen and eating area to the right and a living room–den combination to the left, with IKEA-style furnishings.

“I need to wash up. Why don’t you take a seat while I do,” Lam said. “Would you like some tea?”

“I’d love some tea.”

“Jasmine?”

“Perfect.”

He headed for the kitchen and Ava went into the living room. She sat down in a deeply slanted chair. The room was sparsely furnished and had two walls of bookcases. There was no television, no home entertainment system. Another wall was filled with framed diplomas. She could read most of them from her chair, and it turned out that Dr. Lam’s wife was equally distinguished, her medical degree having come from Johns Hopkins University.

She heard a tap running and the familiar sound of water being pumped from a Thermos. Lam came into the living room with