his wife’s father hadn’t already secured the space before the station was even built.
Ava walked in and almost ran over little Andy. He was only slightly taller than her and weighed maybe ten pounds more. He was a good man to have by your side, though, and Ava had used him several times, the last time in Las Vegas, when his expertise with a meat cleaver had proven useful. “Hey, boss,” he said.
“Hi, Andy,” she said.
Out of the corner of her eye she saw Andy’s wife looking at them. Ava smiled at her and waved. The woman put her hands together as a sign of respect. Over the years she had met a lot of wives like Andy’s. There were times when Ava felt she was leading the life they all wanted.
“Where’s Uncle?” she asked.
“In the back, in the kitchen. I put a little table there so you two could talk in private.”
“Did he ask you to do that?”
“Yes.”
He stood when she entered the kitchen. He was wearing his black suit and a white shirt buttoned at the collar. “You are as beautiful as ever,” he said.
“I’m sorry about this,” she said.
He sat. “Do you want something to eat?”
“Not really.”
“We should not offend Andy.”
“Then order for both of us.”
“Steamed snow pea tips? Rice noodles with shrimp and scallops?”
“Perfect.”
Uncle spoke to the cook, who was working five woks at once. The cook nodded without turning around.
“I was surprised when Lok called me,” he began.
“I’m sorry, let me explain,” she said.
It took her ten minutes. Uncle knew her father, knew about his extended family situation. What he didn’t know was that Michael Lee had reached out to her. She went through it as best she could, not exaggerating but making her feelings clear, particularly her fears that her father and mother and her two aunties — one with small children in Australia — whom she didn’t know were somehow going to be swept up in the mess in Macau.
Before she finished, the cook had deposited the snow pea tips and the noodle dish on their table. Uncle picked at the peas, his focus on her. When she finished, he put down his chopsticks. “You should have called me earlier,” he said.
“Uncle, it was family business. I didn’t think it was fair to involve you.” And the moment she said it she wished she could cut off her tongue.
He went silent, the chopsticks working again on the snow peas, picking scallops from their noodle bed. “You know I never married.”
“Yes, Uncle.”
“I left Wuhan when I was eighteen. The family I knew died during the Cultural Revolution.”
“I know, Uncle.”
“I have no children that I am aware of.”
“Yes, Uncle.”
“During the past few years I have asked you several times to take on jobs that involved friends.”
“Yes, Uncle.”
“Did you hesitate?”
“No.”
“So why could you not come to me?”
There were tears in her eyes but she fought them back. “I should have.”
“Now I am afraid it is too late.”
Ava turned her attention to the snow pea tips, concentrating on their tiny heads. They ate quietly, the cook working like a madman behind them, Andy poking his head through the door occasionally to make sure they were still there.
When the last of the noodles were gone, Uncle said, “Lok has pulled this stunt a few times. He owns several pieces of land in Macau, on the peninsula in Coloane and on Cotai. He switches ownership among his companies, often starting new ones. He hires an architect to design an apartment building, maybe an office and retail complex — and now, I guess, a shopping centre — then he goes looking for investors, and he always seems to find them. Everyone knows how scarce land is in Macau, and Lok does not normally have a problem finding willing and eager partners. Needless to say, nothing ever gets built. They will put off the investors with excuses for a while, and when they cannot be stalled any longer, the intimidation starts. No one gets their money back. Most are smart enough to know they need to walk away, but more than one has gone to Macau for a final showdown and never come back.”
“How long have you known him?”
“Twenty years, maybe longer. He used to run a string of moneylenders at Ho’s casinos, and then he managed the massage parlours that double as whorehouses for one of the larger societies. He is a Red Pole.”
“What is that?”
“We have been together so long that I forget what I have told you.”