Chapter Three

 After leaving Dickie I hurried across to The Bank of China Tower. I reckoned I had just enough time to telegraph the money to Imelda before Ai Lin and her boss from United American Bank arrived at my office in Wanchai.  

 Although it wasn’t month’s end the line at the bank was long and slow.   Standing there shifting from foot to foot, glancing at my watch, I was soon very annoyed.   The line wasn’t the only irritant; though the grand, bright banking hall was usually a pleasant enough place, especially when one’s in no hurry and has a load of cash in one’s pocket, a plywood partition sealed off one corner.  Behind this workmen with jackhammers were making a frightful racket, sending billows of white dust up into sunshine that poured in through the big windows.  It was so thick on the floor, itself vibrating, that I drew  “Imelda” in it with my shoe.  In no time my lungs had tightened and I used my inhaler for the first time that day.  Construction and jackhammers: sights and sounds of the new orient.

By the time I got to Card Wainright’s lobby on the 44^th floor of Sun Hung Tower, Ai Lin and Phil Cane, Regional Head of Research and Senior Vice President of United American Bank, had arrived.  Thankfully he didn’t seem impatient; he was too busy scrutinizing the Khmer apsaras in their alcoves along the teak-paneled walls.  Ai Lin was clearly nervous and looked relieved to see me. 

“Sorry I’m late,” I said.

“Hi Jake,” said Ai Lin.  She wore the blue, low cut dress I’d bought her; it accentuated the curve of her small breasts and the lines of her legs.  “This is Phil Cane.”

Ai Lin had warned me about his height, but he still took me off guard for he must have been a full 7 feet, and this with a pronounced slouch, likely due to his literally talking down to everyone.   His awkward size, his bald pate circled by a shaggy ring of hair, and his thick glasses gave him the appearance of a large, predatory insect. 

“Are these real?” he said.

“Jake Stratton,” I said.

He squinted down at my hand for a moment before shaking it.  His hand was a big bony thing, but his grip was lighter than a woman’s.  After a quick shake he jerked it away.

Frowning, he gestured at the apsaras.  “Are these real?”

“Yes, our Asia Pacific publisher collects them.”

“Don’t you think they belong in Cambodia?”

I wasn’t sure what to say: for all I cared they could have dynamited Angkor Wat into rubble and dumped it into Hong Kong harbor.  But standing their with Phil squinting down, seemingly in disapproval, I had to think of a lie quickly, for riding on this meeting was an immense amount of money. 

 “Of course they belong in Cambodia,” I said. “That’s why they’re going back.” 

 His eyebrow shot up.

 “All the places they were removed from were marked,” I said.  “When the political situation in Cambodia stabilizes, Card Wainright will return them.”

 “So these aren’t part of some private collection?”

 “For now they are, but every one of them belongs to the people of Cambodia, and like I said, we’ll return them once the political situation improves. Why? Do you collect Asian art?”

 “But you just said your publisher collects them.”

 “Yes, but to give back eventually.”

 “Pity that.  Let me know before he does so.  My wife may be interested in taking some genuine Cambodian pieces back to the states.  If they go back to Cambodia they’ll only be looted.”

 I’d completely misread him; I was starting to understood why Ai Lin found him so difficult.

 “Holly’s got some beautiful art,” said Ai Lin, smiling.

 “Got to fill the apartment with something,” said Phil.  “While we’re out here we may as well pick up some of the local stuff.   The re-sale value back home is terrific.”

 “Where do you live?” I asked.

 “The Prestigia in Repulse Bay.  Nice by local standards but a bit of a ghetto, really.”

 Oh yes, The Prestigia, a bit of a ghetto indeed compared with where I lived.  In the shower that morning I’d found a poisoned rat among Debbie’s toiletries.  Phil’s place probably had chrome bathroom fixtures, toilets that refilled quickly after being flushed, and an unlimited supply of hot water flowing at high pressure - all paid for by United American Bank.  

 The receptionist, who had been hovering nearby, led us to the VIP conference room.  The VIP room was situated so that visitors would pass through (and be suitably impressed by) Card Wainright’s main newsroom,  a spacious office inhabited by smart-looking journalists and researchers in leather chairs specially imported from Italy; all of them working diligently at big flat screen monitors.  On one wall was a bank of liquid-plasma TVs showing virtually every news channel – CNBC, BBC, CNN, etc. - and on the other were clocks showing the time in a dozen major cities: Hong Kong, Bangkok, Bombay, Dubai, etc.  To one side a huge window looked out over the harbor  A busy, bustling, corporate place.

 The room itself boasted a spectacular city view north toward Quarry Bay.  Along the walls hung bright silk tapestries from Laos; in the center was a teak conference table from Indonesia surrounded by ergonomic chairs from Germany; and in one corner was a well-stocked rosewood bar from Korea with a mini-fridge, an espresso machine, and a tap for Guinness stout.

 We took our seats while the receptionist made coffee.

 “I understand Ai Lin has familiarized you with our offer,” I said.

 Ai Lin glanced nervously over at Phil.  I was annoyed to see she was wearing a gold necklace her ex-boyfriend had given her. 

 Phil didn’t reply right away, but squinted and tapped his lips with his pen.  The bastard’s blue cotton shirt was perfectly ironed, no doubt by a Filipina maid, who also cooked him nutritious meals and looked after his every need.  His watch was slim and expensive looking, perhaps a Piaget, and looked out of place on his knobby wrists. 

 “Yes,” he eventually said.

 “So what do you think?”

 “Seven hundred and fifty thousand per year is a lot of money.”

 “Yes, but it’s for everyone in the entire region,” said Ai Lin.  “I think it’s a great offer.”

 I cringed; she’d spoken with a hint of urgency, and now Phil was peering at her suspiciously while she tugged nervously at her earring.  I wondered if she’d snorted a line that morning.

  “It is,” I said.  “But once again, you’ll get six hundred forty eight…”

 He stopped me with a wave of his hand.  “Whenever I make an investment, and buying  your service is an investment, a very serious investment, I like to pay a visit to the company and kick the tires.  Buyer beware, you know.  I mean, I know Card Wainright is an excellent name and all, and I read Capital Asia, and your office is very impressive – not some fly by night operation - but seven hundred fifty thousand is a lot of money for an on-line service.  I mean, there’s a lot of information on the internet for free.”

 We paused while the receptionist served coffee and then left.

 “Ai Lin tells me that you and your research teams have been using it a great deal.  How are you finding it?”

 “Excellent, to be truthful,  but even so, there’s a budget concern here…”  

 Phil’s mobile rang.  Frowning, he pulled it from his pocket – it was one of the expensive new 3G models – and checked the screen.  “I’ve got to take this…”

 He listened for a moment and then put his hand over the microphone. “Can you two leave me for a moment?”

 I took Ai Lin around the corner to a smaller, more utilitarian conference room and shut the door.  She seized my hands and looked up at me with her heart-shaped face. 

 “Jake!  Just tell him you’ll take five hundred.  He said that’s what he wants to pay.   We can’t afford to lose this and I need the money…”

 “Listen!” I interrupted.  “I told you I have to give the appearance of negotiating.  When we walk out of here today we’ll each be two hundred fifty grand richer, okay?  Just trust me. He’ll get suspicious if I drop my price just like that.  We haven’t even started haggling yet.”

 “You can’t imagine what a nightmare it’s been working with him on this, nothing but questions questions questions.  And he’s always away…I can’t believe I got him here today.”

 “He seems like a complete dickhead.  I’d hate to work with somebody like him.”

 She pulled my lapel and kissed me hard on the lips, running her tongue into my mouth.

 “Ai Lin, your lipstick!’

 “Sorry.”  She took a tissue from her purse and dabbed my lips.  “That’s better.”

 “You powdered your nose today, didn’t you?”

 “Yes…a few hours ago.”

 She was coming down, that explained her anxiety.

 “Just stay cool,” I said. “We’ll go for a nice lunch afterwards, okay?”

 She nodded and we went back to find Phil, off the phone, standing impatiently at the door.  “Where did you two go?”

 “I gave her the grand tour,” I said.

  “That was Beijing,” he said to Ai Lin.  “I have to cut this short and catch an earlier flight.”

 “Can we wrap this up first?” I said, alarmed.

 He glanced at his watch and nodded impatiently.  We went back in and took our seats.

 “Four hundred thousand per year,” he said. “That’s as high as we go.”

 I hated haggling and was tempted to just say yes, but steeling myself I shook my head slowly.

 “Sorry, Phil, six hundred is as low as we can go.  It’s a profitability thing and I’d love to sell…”

 Phil shook his head and started to rise.

 “Five hundred,” I said quickly.

 Glaring, he eased back down into his seat, and then, eyes narrowed, glanced at Ai Lin, who shrank before his gaze.

 “Fine,” he snapped.  “Five hundred it is.  Is there anything I need to sign?  I need to get to the airport.”

 We’d done it!  Months of working with Ai Lin to get United American Bank’s analysts to like the service had paid off!  US$250,000, all of it tax free, all of it mine, all of it going to Philippines, where it would buy me that house with the pool.  I glanced across at Ai Lin, struggling to contain my delight.

 I stuck my hand out.  “Let’s shake on it, Phil.”

 He looked annoyed but gave me a weak handshake anyway.  “Is there anything I need to sign?”

 “I’ll be right back,” I got up and went to the door. 

 Phil glanced at his watch.

 Since it was lunch time the elevator was packed when it arrived on 44.   I squeezed in, but it stopped on nearly every floor going down (although nobody could get aboard since it was so full).  On the ground floor I had to switch elevator banks to get to my office on the fourth, where I printed out a fresh proposal on the letterhead of my shelf company, CW Info Associates.  The whole time I cursed myself for taking so long at the Bank Of China earlier. Over 10 minutes had elapsed when I burst out of the elevator on 44, proposal in hand.   

 Alone in the lobby stood Ai Lin.

 “Where’s Phil?”

 “He left for the airport. He said he’ll come back and sign when he returns from Beijing.”

 Many a slip between the cup and the lip, an old boss said in my head.

 “Fuck.  Why don’t I just fax it to him?”  

 “He insists on visiting the office of anybody he signs an agreement with.”

 “That’s stupid.  Why?”

 “He says it prevents him from getting ripped off.  He’s a brilliant fund manager, you know.”

 Forty five minutes later we sat at a table beside the pool at the Grand Hyatt, halfway through a bottle of Dom Perignon.

 “I wish he’d signed,” I said.

 “Don’t worry, you shook on it, right?”

 “Yeah, but until he signs we don’t have shit.  Why couldn’t you stall him?”

 “What’s the matter with you, Jake?  I’ve put a lot more work into this than you.   Why didn’t you have the proposal ready?  Why were you late?  Well?  It’s not exactly rocket science and besides, he said he’d sign.  But he travels so much…”

 I looked at the sparkling water in the pool and thought about Borokay.  Yeah, I suppose we had done it.   He’d sign, we’d shaken on it after all.  I looked into her eyes and we touched glasses.

 “Is that a new watch?” I said.

 “Yeah, I just had to get it.  I love Tag Heuer.  Do you like it?”

 “But you’ve got so many watches.”

 “Not so many, really.”

 “And hey, are those new shades?”

 Annoyed, she turned away and ran her fingers through her hair.

 “I’m not being critical.  They look great on you.”

 We were quiet for a while but then the champagne kicked in and we both cheered up nicely.  After lunch – I had a burger with bacon and swiss, she had a Caesar salad - I ordered another bottle, which went down even faster than the first.  For good measure I ordered a third to go and after expensing all of it to Card Wainright (the entire bill came to HK$4,317)  we set off, Dom Perignon in hand, for Ai Lin’s Caine Road apartment near the mid-levels escalator. 

 Hours later, our lust sated, I woke up in Ai Lin’s bed with her head resting on my shoulder.   It was dark outside and I could hear the cars below.  On the floor beside the bed were dozens of shopping bags from designer boutiques – DKNY, Gucci, Etienne Aigner, etc.

 “I’m not sure what’s worse,” I said.  “Your shopping or my drinking.”

 She sighed and ran her fingers through my chest hair.

 I got up and peered into the DKNY bag.

 “Ai Lin!  You already have two leather jackets.”

 She groaned and hid her head under the pillow. 

 “And what’s this? Two purses!  You’ve got so many already.  Why are you always buying this stuff?”

 She ignored this and I climbed back into bed and took her into my arms.  She rolled over and kissed my chest.

 “Do you think we’ll get caught?” she said. 

 “Nah, we’ll be fine, but it’s not good that you’ll be away for two weeks with Phil not signing.  I have a bad vibe about it.”

 “It’s my sister’s wedding.  Besides, Phil said he would buy it.”

 “Even so, it would be better if you were still in town to prod him a bit.  And with all his traveling God knows when we’ll get him into the office.”

 Another problem was that with Imelda away at the same time I’d be sex-less for 2 weeks unless I could scare up some action on the side - rather a pleasant thought, that.  For old times sake maybe I could nip down to Wanchai Sunday afternoon and pick up somebody’s maid moonlighting as a hooker.

 “God I need this money,” said Ai Lin. “My credit card bills are, like, so out of control.”

 “If I were you I’d take this money and leave town - don’t waste it paying debt.  Start afresh somewhere new.”

 “It’s crossed my mind...but where would I be without you, baby.”

 With this she ran her hand down my stomach and began stroking my inner thigh.  For the next hour or so money was not, for a change, among my foremost thoughts.

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