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several times on his own. I’m not sure what I would do if I had both of them hammering at me. I’m sure Philip knew what was in store for him.”
    â€œAnd the detectives — they came up empty?”
    â€œCan’t find Cousins, can’t find the money. All they can tell us is that the KVD bank account is empty and Cousins cleaned out his personal account too.”
    â€œHow much was in his account?”
    â€œWe’re told about two million.”
    â€œThat’s a lot of money.”
    â€œHe fronted the two million to start the project, so he had to have some money,” Marx said, and then caught himself. “Of course, he really didn’t front anything, did he?”
    â€œNo,” Ava said softly.
    The room went quiet. She had been making notes as Marx spoke. She circled the words two million and personal bank account .
    â€œNow what?” Marx asked.
    â€œI’d like to spend some time alone with the files. I’m sure I’m not going to find anything other than what you’ve told me, but you never know — I could get lucky.”
    â€œBe my guest. I’ll be glad to get out of this room.”
    â€œDo we need to call anyone?”
    â€œTo get permission for me to leave, you mean?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œThey told me to do whatever you asked.”
    â€œGood. Then why don’t you go back to your hotel, have a drink, get a massage, get whatever. Just relax. Louis, we’re colleagues now. I’m not the inquisitor. I’m here to figure out what happened and to try to fix it.” She shook her head. “I think you should get back to Vancouver as soon as you can. You’re like a red flag to these guys. Every time they look at you they’re reminded of what went wrong, and they need to lash out. Go home. I’ll tell them I need you in Vancouver.”
    She watched him leave the boardroom, his suit jacket slung over his shoulder, his shirttail hanging out the back of his trousers. She didn’t give him another month with the company. If he didn’t quit they’d fire him. Someone was going to have to take the blame for this fiasco. And Louis Marx wasn’t Chinese and his brother didn’t own the company.

( 5 )
    Her phone rang at seven in the evening. It was the wake-up call she had booked after leaving Ordonez’s offices and before crawling into bed with a glass of Pinot Grigio. Ava showered herself into relative consciousness before calling Uncle, who had left a note for her at the front desk, asking her to call him when she checked in.
    â€œ Wei ,” he said.
    â€œUncle, it’s Ava.”
    â€œI’m in suite 1040. Come and see me.”
    His door was open when she arrived. The room was beautiful, with gleaming teak floors, elegant bamboo furniture of a quality she knew you couldn’t buy anymore, and a king-size four-poster bed with a snow-white down comforter. Uncle was sitting on a bamboo chair, his feet barely touching the ground, a bottle of Tsing Tao beer in his hand. “I have some white wine on ice for you,” he said, pointing to a credenza.
    â€œYou’re spoiling me,” she said.
    â€œIt is by way of an apology.”
    â€œI’m sorry, Uncle, I don’t understand.” Ava couldn’t think of anything he’d done that required an apology. Even if there had been a slight, their relationship was such that he would have made amends in a more subtle and less direct way.
    He waited until she had poured herself a glass and seated herself next to him before leaning towards her. He caught her eye, and she flinched when she saw the anger in his face. “I was very unhappy with the manner in which Chang Wang and Tommy Ordonez treated you today,” Uncle said. “I had words with Chang after you left the room. I told him I was not certain we wanted to take the job and that I would leave it up to you.”
    Ava was surprised by his reaction. She