The Scottish Banker of Surabaya - By Ian Hamilton Page 0,89

Lourdes puttering around in the background, then Uncle saying thank-you to her for his tea. “What is the problem?” he finally asked.

Ava began to explain. She spoke for almost twenty minutes, uninterrupted, only hesitating when she heard him cough and then later, when she said the word ’Ndrangheta and Uncle seemed to stop breathing.

When she was finished, Uncle didn’t say anything right away, but she could imagine him sitting in his easy chair, a tray by his side holding the teapot and his morning newspapers, his eyes hooded, lips lightly compressed as he absorbed what she had related. “I know of them,” he finally said.

“The Italians?”

“Yes. A hundred families bound together by money and blood — and oaths that they value above their lives. When they first came here, to Asia, for drugs mainly, we did not know what to make of them. Some of my colleagues thought they were like the other Italians: open to side deals. They soon learned differently. There is a hardness, a dedication, a viciousness to them that makes them difficult partners. I am not surprised they have done so well. I am surprised that they are so clever. That Indonesian bank setup is brilliant.”

“Assuming it’s real.”

“You doubt the banker?”

“No, but I still want to confirm what I’ve been told.”

“And then?”

“And then we’ll know for sure. And then we can decide what to do.”

“How can you confirm?” he asked.

“Well, I’m not going to talk to the Italians. In fact I wouldn’t even risk talking to anyone about them,” she said. “But Cameron told me that all the loans the bank has made have been to various companies registered to the Italians and their relatives and friends. One of his major jobs is to paper those deals, make them look legitimate. I want to have a look at them, see who we’re actually dealing with.”

“Ava, you said the banker is supposed to meet the Italians for dinner tonight,” Uncle said slowly.

“Yes.”

“How quickly can you access that information?”

“If I have Cameron’s passwords and he tells me where to look in the bank’s database, I don’t see why I couldn’t do it in the next few hours.”

“Could you download it all?”

“If I can access it, I can download it,” she said. “Why?”

“I am thinking, that is all, and I need to think some more. The thing is, I do not want you to stay in Surabaya. I want to you to get out of there today.”

“Let me confirm what I’ve been told.”

“Not if it means you cannot leave today.”

Ava did some rough calculations. “Uncle, if I can’t get the information by noon, then there is something wrong with either me or the information.”

“You call me back by then.”

“I will.”

“And in the meantime I am going to hold a seat for you on a flight to Hong Kong.”

There it is again, Ava thought, caution gone to excess. They had always been careful, but this was more than that. “How about Perkasa?”

“You need to tell him what I said about the Italians. He is a good man. He knows how to keep his mouth shut. He also knows how to disappear.”

“And Uncle — the banker?”

“That will depend on what you find out, I think.”

“I was thinking the same.”

“We have some time,” he said. “You go discover what you can. Me, I want to consider this thing in more detail. With these Italians you cannot afford to make mistakes; you cannot afford to leave loose ends.”

Perkasa was where she had left him in the kitchen. “I think you should phone Waru and Prayogo and ask them to come back. I may need a drive to my hotel and we can’t leave Cameron alone.”

“What did Uncle say?”

“The Italians are trouble. We need to be careful.”

“I’ll call the boys,” he said, his face impassive.

Ava grabbed her notebook and walked through the kitchen and out onto the back porch. Cameron was slumped forward in the chair, the sun beating down on his naked legs, his head, the back of his neck. Even after being washed down, he still reeked of excrement. She stood a few metres away and shouted, “Cameron, wake up. I need to talk to you.”

He raised his head. “I’m thirsty again,” he moaned.

“In a minute. First we talk.”

“About?”

“I want to access the bank’s computer system.”

He shook his head. “I told you, they control the money. They’re the only ones who can transfer it. And even if they weren’t and you found a way to do it, don’t think they wouldn’t find