Later, after I’ve gotten a new phone and updated my contacts, I let myself into Simone’s apartment. It’s been a long day and I’m tired. Whisper seems to be as exhausted as I am. She barely eats the gourmet dog food I picked up for her, which was expensive. I don’t even bother explaining that while she’s got the best the pet store has to offer, I’m eating from the discounted deli section of the grocery. I’ve got bigger problems than the luxury lifestyle she’s become accustomed to, courtesy of Leo, who must have a more generous credit card limit than me.
After a long shower, as hot as I can stand it, I turn up the thermostat and try to process the events of the day from the couch. It feels as though I’ve lived a week in the past twenty-four hours.
Dao’s search for me is ramping up. He’s sent his attack dogs to use my connections to lure me out.
It’s also clear that he’s not here to greet me in person. If he had been, he wouldn’t have sent others to do his dirty work for him. He would have been in the Hastings alley himself. Waiting for me down the street from Stephanie Kwan’s place. Or at Leo’s apartment. I can see him now, perched on an armchair in the dark, biding his time until I walk in the door.
He hates me so much he’d send hit men after me in Detroit. That he’d reach out to his shady contacts to find me here in Vancouver.
If I’m so important to him, why isn’t he here to come after me himself?
He must have other obligations. Something so important it’s keeping him away.
I message Simone to ask her for her Wi-Fi login and password. She responds immediately with the login. The password comes a minute later. It’s a nonsensical phrase with numbers and capital letters interspersed. She tells me she changes it often, so don’t get too used to it.
Fair enough.
I log on to the internet and, about two hours later, find what I’m looking for. It’s the search I’ve been meaning to do since yesterday’s meeting with Lam and Vidal. The reason I went looking for Simone in the first place is she’s the only one I trust to help me with this particular search. Because of her relapse, I have to do it myself.
Michael Acosta is the poster child for prosperity. He used to be a fundraiser for the Conservative party of Canada but has left politics to pursue his one true love in life: resource extraction.
Bernard Lam picks up the phone on the first ring. We don’t bother with pleasantries. I explain to him what I have on Acosta and his company, Nebula Corp, which isn’t much.
“Don’t worry about it. I have someone looking into Acosta for me,” Lam says.
“Good,” I say. “Have them look into the gold mine in Indonesia that Nebula Corp took over recently. It’s on the island of Lombok.”
“Why that mine in particular?”
I forward him a report.
“Apart from being located in a region that’s prone to earthquakes, landslides, floods, and volcanic eruptions, there’s evidence of terrorist cells creating problems all over Indonesia. And there’s been a certain element of unrest on Lombok for a long time. Violent mobs and organized crime,” I say, after he’s read it and is back on the phone. “Nebula isn’t messing with local police. They’ve got their own security looking after the miners and protecting their property.”
“Unrest sounds bad for business,” says Lam, with the understatement of the day. “You think Dao is there.”
There’s a reason he’s not here hunting me down himself. I’ve killed his lover and his previous employer. He should have no obstacles to exacting his revenge in person because what else is he doing?
He’s doing what soldiers do. He’s working.
“Yes, I think he’s in Indonesia, managing the situation for Acosta.”
“Just like he managed difficult situations for Ray Zhang.”
“Do you have someone who can look into it? To see if he’s there?” I ask, knowing that if anyone has the resources to find Dao in Indonesia, it’s Bernard Lam.
“I have something even better,” Lam says. “I have a private plane that can take us there to take a look ourselves.”
“What do we do if we find him?” I ask. I don’t want to give him the impression that I need a man to make plans for me, because I never have. This is about his intentions.
“Let’s cross that bridge when we get there. What do you say, Nora? You up for a trip?”
“I could use some sun.”
Lam laughs. “I’ll make the arrangements.” He hangs up.
It’s easy to picture him in his Point Grey mansion, cackling to himself over a cigar, loosening his tie, calling his assistant’s assistant to get the plane ready, stat, because he’s in the mood to catch some sun while he takes down a crime syndicate.
I wonder if he loved that woman as much as he thinks he did or if this is merely a grand ol’ adventure for him. Dao is my endgame, but he’s not Lam’s, which some small part of me is concerned by. A very small part that I choose to shove away.
Nolan’s body may be in a coffin in the earth right now, I don’t know. I have pushed him so far from my mind that I hadn’t even thought to check. But thoughts of him come back to me now. Who is the instrument of whose revenge here? Lam is using me as surely as I’m using him. But at this moment, sapped of all energy but still unable to fall asleep, I can’t bring myself to care.
At least there are no neon lights flashing at me through the window. Here there is only a comfortable couch and my dog on the floor beside me and the blessed night. James Carr is wailing from my laptop speakers—well, Leo’s laptop speakers. He’s singing about two strangers at the dark end of the street, where they always meet. Not in the light because the light isn’t for them. They live in darkness, just like me. No, not just like me anymore. Because I’m heading for the sunshine on a private plane, like the socialite I never wanted to be.