The Scottish Banker of Surabaya

( 38 )

They left the restaurant without paying for their meal. The owner had refused to give a bill to Uncle, and after a few minutes of protest, Uncle thanked him and left an HK$200 tip.

The streets had calmed down. It was getting too late for families and it was still too early for most of the nightclubs and karaoke bars to open. They walked downhill towards the Mandarin, Uncle’s arm again looped through Ava’s. They had gone only about half the distance when he stopped and took a deep breath. She looked at him and saw that he was pale. As she started to say something he lurched towards the street, stopped at the curb, and bent over. Ava reached out to give him support, but he threw one arm back as if to fend her off. Then he coughed, took a couple of rapid breaths, and threw up on the road. Ava watched in horror, not sure what to do, not sure if there was anything she could do. After several heaves his stomach began to empty, and though his body still racked, he had nothing left to throw up.

Ava went over to him again. She looked down at the mess on the pavement and saw streaks of red.

He slowly raised himself, wiping at his mouth with his jacket sleeve. Ava grasped his arm and squeezed as reassuringly as she could. Uncle shook his head as if he was trying to clear it. “I cannot handle some kinds of food anymore,” he said.

There was a 7-Eleven two doors from where they stood. “Wait here,” Ava said. She bought a bottle of water and a sleeve of tissues. When she came back, Uncle was leaning against the wall, his face ashen and gaunt. She opened the water and passed it to him. He sipped lightly, no more than wetting his lips. When she gave him a tissue, he patted his sweaty brow. “I’m worried about you,” she said.

“No reason to be. I am just an old man having an old man’s aches and pains.”

“Uncle, you would tell me if it was more than that, wouldn’t you?”

“Of course,” he said.

He held her arm the rest of the way to the hotel. Neither of them spoke until they saw Sonny standing by the Mercedes. “I will go straight home. You call me there after you talk to your Mountie,” Uncle said.

“Okay, I’ll call. Even if I don’t reach him, I’ll let you know.”

“Good. One way or another we need to close this case. We owe it to our clients to do the best we can for them.”

“Yes, Uncle, we owe it to our clients.”