The Scottish Banker of Surabaya - By Ian Hamilton Page 0,9

the money would certainly be great. But she didn’t need the money, and she had been working basically on her own for so long she wasn’t sure how well she would adapt to a more structured occupation. It was not that she didn’t believe in structure, but the idea of its being imposed upon her rather than self-imposed bothered her.

Maybe I should go into business for myself, she mused. But what would Uncle do? she thought for what seemed like the tenth time in ten days. He had never discussed retiring, and she wondered if the day would ever come when he would walk away from work. What else did he have? He had no family. He had no hobbies except betting on horse racing, and that wasn’t enough to occupy a man whose mind was still sharp and whose sense of adventure was still keen.

Well, I could always keep doing nothing for a while, she thought. And then an odd feeling gnawed at her. Was she really built to do nothing? Her best friend, Mimi, had a good job. Maria loved her work. Even her mother qualified as being employed, if playing mah-jong for money could be considered a profession. The only person she knew who actually did nothing was Mimi’s husband and her own best male friend, Derek. Like Ava, Derek practised bak mei. That’s how they had met — as the only two bak mei students of Grandmaster Tang. Derek was the only child of a wealthy Hong Kong family, and after graduation he had chosen to stay in Toronto and live a life of complete idleness, interrupted only by odd jobs he did when Ava needed him. But even those jobs had ended now. Mimi was pregnant, and Ava couldn’t ask her husband, a father-to-be, to put himself at risk.

Ava’s thoughts of Derek were interrupted when Maria leaned over and whispered, “That woman is staring at you.”

“What woman?”

“The one to the right a couple of aisles down.”

Ava saw only the backs of heads, and then she noticed one whose hair was pulled tightly back in a ponytail secured by a red rubber band. As the homily ended, the woman turned and looked back. It was Theresa Ng. Ava acknowledged her with a smile.

She hadn’t thought about Theresa since turning off her computer on Friday evening. After returning from their meeting, Ava had opened the computer with the intention of checking emails, but almost subconsciously she typed “Emerald Lion” into the search engine. There was a small story about the company in the Globe and Mail’s business section, but it lacked any kind of detail.

She went to the Sing Tao website and tracked several stories there. The first one was longer than the Globe’s but also surprisingly vague on specifics. It mentioned that Emerald Lion was a private investment fund that had run into problems. No numbers were mentioned, and the story consisted mainly of quotes from unnamed investors asking that the fund’s management come forward.

The same photo of Lam accompanied every article. Long, thin face. Sad, droopy eyes. A thick head of hair combed straight back and a thick, bushy moustache — unusual for an Asian. He was certainly distinctive-looking, and if Theresa’s sister thought she had seen him, she probably had. Not that it mattered. There was no reason for Ava to take on the job other than to appease her mother. She had decided to call Uncle on Tuesday, because keeping her word was important to her, but she knew already he wouldn’t want to take on such a minor job. Theresa and her mother would be disappointed. To avoid her mother’s sharp tongue, Ava would blame Uncle.

When the Mass finished, people began to file out of the church. Maria lagged behind as always, kneeling for a final prayer. Ava sat patiently, and when Maria was done, she reached for her hand and walked with her to the exit.

The church was dimly lit, and the contrast between its dark interior and the outside world, where the sun shone unfiltered, was almost blinding. As Ava struggled to adjust her vision, Maria said, “There’s that woman again.”

To their right, Theresa Ng stood with an older woman. Before Ava could react, Theresa was upon her, the other woman in tow. “This is Ava Lee,” Theresa said. “She is the woman who is going to help us.”

Ava didn’t know what to say.

“This is my mother,” Theresa continued. “I told her I was coming here today before work to