The Scottish Banker of Surabaya

( 20 )

“I’m with the two most beautiful women in Surabaya,” John Masterson said from the driver’s seat of his Mercedes.

“Well trained, isn’t he?” Fay said, turning back to look at Ava from the passenger seat.

They had been close to half an hour late getting to the hotel and Ava had been in the lobby, phoneless, at six. Fay had her paged, so rather than hanging around at the door, Ava sat in the lounge and had a glass of Meursault.

Fay came into the hotel to get her. Ava watched as she crossed the lobby, stilettos clicking. She was wearing a sundress, white with a delicate floral pattern. The dress came just above the knee and had a neckline that exposed the top of abundant breasts. Heads turned as she passed and Ava saw her smile, obviously aware of and enjoying the attention.

“You look absolutely gorgeous,” Ava said.

Fay nodded in agreement. “And so do you. I wish I had your elegance.”

“Don’t be silly,” Ava said, pleased all the same with the compliment.

They left the hotel side by side, Fay’s stilettos making her almost exactly the same height as Ava. The doorman bowed to the waist. “Bu Fay, Bu Ava,” he said, running to open the car doors for them.

“Sorry to be late,” Masterson said as Ava got in. “I was on a conference call with New York. And then Cameron got tied up at the bank and phoned to say he wasn’t going to be at the restaurant until seven anyway.”

They pulled out of the hotel, turned left, and then turned left again into the parking lot of Tunjungan Plaza. “Goodness me, we could have walked,” Ava said.

“We are going to walk,” Masterson said.

The mall was even larger inside than it looked from the outside, and Ava would never have found the restaurant by herself. Even with Masterson’s knowledge of the place it was still close to a ten-minute walk from the car to the restaurant. There was a long line outside that Masterson ignored, moving to the entrance and shouting something in Indonesian to a host. The host waved them inside and took them to a table at the back of the restaurant.

“No Cameron yet,” Masterson said as they sat.

“I owe you a couple of thanks,” Ava said to him. “Fay was a wonderful guide and hostess today, and you got Cameron for me tonight.”

“I’ll take the one for Fay. As for Cameron, let’s wait until the evening is over.”

“Speaking of whom . . .” Fay said, looking towards the door.

He was in a grey business suit, the large knot of his tie pulled halfway down his chest, the tail swinging right and left as he bounced across the floor. He was shorter than Ava had imagined, maybe not even five foot six, and with the belly that Masterson had accurately described he looked a bit like a garden gnome in a suit. His hair was streaked blond, cut short, and gelled into little spikes. His lips were compressed as if in thought, his eyes darting around the restaurant. Masterson raised an arm and waved lazily. Cameron saw them and a quick grin cut across his face.

Masterson stood and extended his hand. Cameron shook it, turned to Fay, kissed her on both cheeks, and then stood back to stare at Ava. His eyes were blue, almost sparkling. This is either a very happy man or he’s on some kind of medication, Ava thought.

“John didn’t exaggerate. He said you were a real beauty,” he said.

“Thank you.”

Cameron settled in at the table. “Have you ordered yet?”

“Waiting for you,” Masterson said.

“Beer please, lots of beer. It’s Friday f*cking night and I need to wash the taste of the bank out of my mouth.”

“How about you girls?” Masterson asked.

“White wine for me,” Fay said.

“And me,” Ava said.

“Two beers and a bottle of wine then, and if you don’t mind, I’d like to order our food at the same time. I’m starving.”

“Order away,” Cameron said.

John turned to Ava. “Do you have any preferences?”

“I eat everything. Please order for the table and don’t worry about me.”

He signalled for the waiter. Masterson spoke to him in Indonesian, the man nodding his head as his pencil scribbled away.

Fay whispered to Ava, “Blue crabs, cleaned, cut in half, and cooked with shallots, chilis, and tamarind. Shrimp steamed with curry in banana leaves. A whole steamed lobster with ginger and garlic. A fish steamed in rice wine with seaweed and cilantro. And nasi goring. John, why nasi goring?”

“What’s more Indonesian?”

“No, it doesn’t fit. Just get plain steamed rice.”

He spoke to the waiter and Ava saw the nasi goring entry get scratched.

“So your name is Ava Lee, I understand,” Cameron said.

“Yes, it is, Mr. Cameron.”

“Andy.”

“Ava.”

“Andy and Ava . . . Has a nice ring to it,” he said, the grin returning.

“Thank you for taking the time to come tonight. After your remark about the bank and beer, I can’t help but think I’m imposing.”

“Just a little, and besides, we don’t have to talk about banking.”

“That’s why I’m in Surabaya.”

“And why my little bank?”

“I got your name from my client in Hong Kong. I’m just following through.”

“You’re an accountant, John tells me.”

“I am.”

“From where? Your accent isn’t like any I’ve heard from Hong Kong.”

“I’m Canadian-raised.”

“Ah, that must be the John connection.”

“Exactly,” Masterson said.

“Who’s your Hong Kong client?” Cameron asked Ava.

“Dynamic Accounting.”

“No, I mean the investor John mentioned who was interested in Bali.”

“I’m afraid I’m not at liberty to disclose that right now.”

“Then what do you want from me?”

“I was given the names of several banks by the accounting firm in Hong Kong. They like to use local financing wherever possible, and your bank is a candidate.”

“And if we have no interest?”

Ava shrugged. “No matter. We’ll find someone.”

“Don’t throw us overboard so quickly,” Cameron said.

“I feel like I’m the one being thrown,” said Ava.

“No, no, no, we’ll talk, we’ll talk,” Cameron said. “Just not on an empty stomach.”

The drinks were brought by the waiter and an assistant. They seemed awfully eager to please either Masterson or Cameron, as they poured the beers first and then passed the bottle of wine to Ava.

“Let my wife try it,” Masterson said.

“Just open it and pour,” Fay said.

When four glasses were full, Masterson raised his and said, “Salut.”

Cameron leaned towards Ava, tapped his glass against hers, and said, “To new friends.”

God help me, she thought. She began to speak, but the first word was still on her tongue when Masterson said to Fay, “What did you girls get up to today?”

It took Fay five minutes to get them to the Ampel Mosque, and by then the plate of white rice was on the table and the first of the seafood dishes came rolling out. The men plunged into dinner, scarcely paying attention to Fay’s continuing narrative. Ava knew that whatever questions she had were best left for later.

The two men drank three beers during the meal. Fay and Ava hadn’t finished their bottle of wine when the last dish was cleared.

“We have to have dessert,” Masterson said. “Fried bananas and ice cream all around.”

“Why not?” Cameron said.

Ava sat back in her chair. “Andy, do you mind if I ask you a few questions?”

“Of course not,” he said, starting on another beer.

“I’m curious. How did a Scot find his way to Indonesia?”

“Did you ask John how a Canadian did?”

“Yes.”

“And that’s true,” Masterson said.

Cameron smiled. “Nosy, is she?”

“Curious,” Ava repeated.

“Well, it’s a simple enough story,” Cameron said. “I was working for a Scottish bank in Rome and Bank Linno came calling.”

“How did they find you?”

“I like to think I had developed a reputation. As a breed, Scottish bankers are maybe the best in the world, and I worked harder than most. I had that Rome office humming. Linno wasn’t the first offer I had from a foreign bank, you know.”

“But you accepted their offer.”

“They offered me more money than anyone else, and a chance to be the boss.”

It was close to drunken bravado, except that Cameron couldn’t seem to maintain eye contact with her. Ava felt the first flutter of doubt.

“Lucky you. Lucky them.”

“No regrets from my side, and none from theirs, I can tell you.”

“Quite a move, though, from a Scottish bank with offices in Rome to a provincial bank in Indonesia.”

“What do you mean?” he shot back.

“In some eyes it could be seen as moving down market.”

“Let me tell you something, girlie,” he said. “It’s all about opportunity. I was given the chance to grow this bank, and that’s what I’ve done. It’s twenty times the size it was in terms of assets and deposits since I took over, and it’s not just an East Java bank anymore. So you can tell your client in Hong Kong that if he decides to do business with us, he’ll be dealing with a first-rate organization.”

“I didn’t mean to cause any offence,” Ava said.

“None taken,” he said, his tone belying his words.

“So your bank does business outside East Java?”

“Why does that matter if your client wants to do business here?”

“I guess it doesn’t,” she said, wondering why he was so defensive.

“Good.”

Ava and Fay both passed on the bananas and ice cream. Fay wrapped her arm around John’s neck, kissing him on the ear, and watched him eat his share. Ava kept her eyes on Cameron. He was working hard at appearing cool. There is something there, she thought. Maybe nothing important, but there is something.

“That was a great meal,” Ava said as the bill arrived and was quickly picked up by Masterson.

Cameron finished his fourth beer and burped. “Excuse me . . . Manners,” he said, and then grinned the same cocky grin she’d seen when he first walked into the restaurant. “Ms. Lee, why don’t I walk you back to your hotel? We can talk banking on the way and I can buy you a nightcap.”

“Sure,” she said, ignoring the panicked look from Fay.

“I can drive you,” Masterson said.

“No, I’d rather walk,” Ava said.

They left the restaurant together, Masterson and Fay peeling off right to the car park, Cameron leading Ava to the left.

Just before they exited the mall, Cameron stopped. “Look, I have a toilet kit at my office and it’s only a few hundred yards from here. If you want I can go get it.”

“I’m sorry?” Ava said, not quite sure she had heard him properly.

“I’ll spend the night at the Majapahit if you want. Must get lonely for a girl like you, Friday night in a strange city.”

“I don’t get that kind of lonely,” Ava said.

“I don’t make that kind of offer to many girls,” Cameron said, smiling at her discomfort.

“Am I to take that as a compliment?”

“Well, I don’t do ugly.”

“And I don’t do with someone I hardly know. I’m an old-fashioned girl who likes to take her time and ease into things, so if you would rather head on home instead of walking me back to the hotel I’ll understand.”

“Hell no, I’ll walk you. And I’ll still buy you that nightcap while we talk about your client.”

“And your bank.”

“Of course.”

As they walked she kept waiting for him to say something else or try something else, but he was quiet and polite, even keeping a physical distance between them. His directness had surprised her, even with Fay’s warning in mind. Now, she hoped, the moves were over and they could actually talk business.

The hotel lounge was quiet. They found a corner table with no one within hearing distance. “I’m switching to Scotch,” he said.

“I’ll stay with wine,” said Ava.

“Pak Andy, Ibu Ava,” the waiter said.

“I’ll have Glenlivet, neat.”

“The Meursault,” Ava said.

“Your client, what is he actually looking to do here?” Cameron asked when they were alone.

Ava took the business card from the Hong Kong accounting firm and placed it on the table in front of him. “He has an interest in real estate either directly or indirectly attached to the tourist trade. He owns several resorts in Thailand and another in the Philippines, and he has interests in various adjacent properties such as shopping centres, restaurants, and the like.”

Cameron pursed his lips and frowned. “Ava, do you know — and the client should know — that foreigners can’t own land here?”

Shit, she thought, and then started backpedalling. “Of course, it’s the same in Thailand. There he took on some Thai partners and then papered himself into total control and effective ownership through the back door.”

“He won’t find it as easy to do that here.”

“Surely it’s nothing a good lawyer can’t handle?”

Cameron looked dubious, and then his face lit up as their drinks arrived. “Cheers,” he said, extending his glass.

“Cheers,” Ava said, tapping it with hers.

“Lawyer or not, it can be tricky,” said Cameron.

Ava was glad to hear him sticking to the business discussion. “I see from the briefing notes my client gave us that your bank is owned by a local law firm.”

“Our ownership is a private matter,” he said sharply.

“Sorry, I wasn’t prying,” Ava said. “I just thought that if my client needed a law firm yours might fit the bill.”

“Not a good idea. Don’t like to mix things about like that. If he needs a lawyer, talk to John Masterson.”

There was that harsh edge to his voice again. Back off or prod? Ava wondered. “That’s a good suggestion, thank you. Now tell me, Andy, earlier at dinner you didn’t want to talk about your non–East Java banking activity. Was there any particular reason for that?”

He swilled back his Scotch and held the empty glass in the air. “Another,” he shouted. She waited for him to answer. He said, “You want another wine?”

“Sure, I can handle one more, but first I need to use the ladies’ room.”

“Right over there,” he said, pointing to the door behind the bar.

She peed, washed her hands twice, and then looked in the mirror. Another ten minutes with the Scotsman and that’s it, she thought and then turned and went back to the lounge.

The glass she had left on the table had been just under half full. Now it was brimming. “I had him top it up,” Cameron said. “No point wasting.”

“That’s sensible,” she said.

“Scottish stereotype, but true all the same.”

“Speaking of which, what makes you Scots such good bankers?”

“We don’t trust anyone,” he said without hesitation.

“Trust?”

“Everyone lies — about why they need money, about their net worth, about their collateral. It never f*cking ends. My old boss at Stirling used what he called the five-check system, and all he meant was check every f*cking thing five times.”

Ava noticed that his second Scotch was already finished, and that his language was deteriorating in proportion to his intake. “I’ll give you all the information you need. You can check ten times and it will still stand up.”

Cameron went silent, and Ava wondered if he was going to argue. Then he said, “My turn. I need to use the loo now.”

Ava sipped her wine and replayed the evening in her mind. So far it had been almost a complete dud. Cameron had no interest in discussing the workings of his bank. That by itself was a bit unusual. What was there to hide? Maybe nothing; maybe it was nothing more than a private bank retaining its privacy. What bothered her more was his attitude every time she ventured into that area. All he had to say was, Sorry, we’re private. Instead he seemed nettled. One more go, she said to herself, and then I’m heading upstairs.

She kept checking her watch and began to worry when more than fifteen minutes had passed. Five more minutes and I’m sending the waiter into the men’s bathroom, she thought.

As if on cue, Cameron walked back into the lounge, a bounce in his step. He was snapping the fingers of his right hand, and even from a distance she could see the gleam in his eyes.

She finished her wine. “Andy, you okay?” she asked.

“Dandy, just dandy.”

She sat back in the chair, her face flushed. No more wine for you, girl, she thought.

Cameron stood in front of her. The only problem was that she could see two of him. Jet lag and wine were a bad combination, she knew, and now she was paying the price. She steadied herself and tried to get to her feet. And didn’t make it.