join you there and we can go on for a quiet drink afterwards. How's that?'
'Fine,' I said. 'See you then.'
Irwin Piper was staying at the Stafford, a small but elegant hotel just off St James's. We were supposed to meet at seven. I arrived a few minutes early. I made my way to the bar. The room was softly lit with wood-panelled walls and green leather upholstered chairs. It achieved the effect of warmth, comfort and exclusivity. It was almost empty except for an elderly American couple sipping martinis in a corner. I felt like asking for a pint of Young's, but that didn't really seem appropriate in a place like this so I asked the barman for a malt whisky. He showed me a menu with an impressive list of spirits, the cheapest being a Glenlivet and the most expensive being an 1809 Armagnac. Not having the eighty-nine pounds necessary for the Armagnac, I settled for a glass of Knockando, and sipped the light gold liquid carefully whilst I waited for Piper.
I didn't focus on the tall, expensively dressed man who entered the bar until he approached me and said, 'Mr Murray?' He was not the kind of man who you would have thought would own a casino. He was dressed from head to toe in English clothes, all handmade, no doubt, and probably bought within a quarter of a mile of the hotel. But no Englishman would wear them the way he did. The sports jacket, the brogues, the green tie with pheasants on it, were all worn with a gloss which belied their 'casual' status. Piper was an inch or two taller than me, with iron-grey hair carefully combed back and a film star's jaw. A waft of expensive aftershave followed him in.
'Yes, I'm Paul Murray.' I descended from the bar stool and held out my hand.
'Good evening, Paul. Irwin Piper. Pleased to meet you.' We shook hands. 'Why don't we sit down over there?' He led me to the corner of the room opposite the American couple. He beckoned a waiter and ordered a whisky and soda.
'Have you been in London long?' I asked.
'Just a week or so,' Piper answered. 'I am planning to come back next month. I will be going grouse shooting in Scotland.'
My own experiences of beating grouse moors in Yorkshire, for five pounds a day and a bottle of beer, came to mind, but I thought it best not to mention them. My immediate problem was how to question Piper to find some clues to any weaknesses in his past. If he had been intimidating, that would not have bothered me. I was quite happy to match aggression with aggression. The difficulty was that he had a mixture of charm and authority which made awkward questions seem very awkward.
'Thank you very much for taking the time to see me,' I began. 'I wonder if we could start with your own background in casinos.'
Piper's brows came together in a sign of mild disapproval. 'I wouldn't say I have a background in casinos. Sure, the hotels I build have casinos in them, but they are primarily centres for entertainment not gaming.' His voice was cultured, almost English in intonation. It sounded like the accents of wealthy men in pre-war American films. To one of his countrymen, I guessed it sounded affected.
'But you do make your money from the gaming, don't you?'
'Yes, that's true.' Piper held out his fingers in front of him and examined his manicure. They were clean hands, he was saying. 'But I don't get involved with the gaming much myself. I'm an organiser. I hire the best.'
He was getting into his stride, beginning to talk faster now. He counted off on his fingers, 'I have the best showman in the casino industry working for me, Art Buxxy. I have a guy with a Ph.D. in mathematics from Princeton who makes sure that the odds are always, how shall we say, correctly balanced. I hired the manager of one of the top hotels in Geneva and I have a software genius who has built up the most advanced customer-information database in the industry.'
'So what's your role in all this?' I asked.
'I put them all together. Arrange the financing. Make sure the numbers add up.' Piper smiled. 'Art takes most of the operational decisions. He's the front man.'
'So you have no interest in the Tahiti itself?' I asked.
'Oh no, you misunderstand me,' he said. 'I wanted to build the greatest hotel in the world. The Tahiti is the greatest hotel in the world. It may not suit my tastes exactly,' he glanced approvingly around the Stafford's bar, 'but people will flock there, believe me.'
'Have you invested in casinos, I mean hotels, in the past?' I asked.
'One or two.'
'Could you be more specific?'
'I'm afraid not. They were private investments.' Piper saw my concern. 'Everything was declared to the Gaming Commission if that is what you are worried about,' he said, sounding offended. He looked at me questioningly.
'Oh no, I am sure there's no problem there,' I said, and as soon as I had said it, cursed myself. Piper had challenged me to question his probity and I had backed down from that challenge.
Piper leaned back in his chair and smiled.
'You do make a number of more passive investments, don't you?' I asked. 'Aren't you what they call an arb?' I was referring to the risk arbitrageurs of Wall Street who at the first sniff of a takeover would pile into a target company's stock in the hope of making a killing.
Not surprisingly, Piper didn't like that word either. 'I have a large portfolio, which I manage aggressively,' he said. 'Where I see strategic value that the market has not seen, then I will take a sizeable position in the stock, yes.'
'Has that strategy worked?'
'I have made one or two mistakes, but mostly it has worked admirably,' said Piper.
'Have you had any recent successes?' I asked.
Piper smiled apologetically. 'I'm afraid I don't discuss individual investments. It's not a good idea, it gives people too much of an insight into how I operate. A poker player never shows his hand after he has folded.'
I wasn't getting anywhere. Piper could play the honest wealthy American gentleman all night. Who knows, maybe he was really an honest wealthy American gentleman. There was just one last thing I wanted to try.
'Well, thank you for your time, Mr Piper. You have been very helpful,' I lied. 'One final question before I go. Have you ever had anything to do with Deborah Chater?'
Piper looked genuinely puzzled. 'No, I don't think so.'
'Or Denny Clark?' I looked hard at Piper who noticed my stare and bridled. He didn't like being interrogated. 'No, nor Denny Clark, whoever they might be. Now, I think we have finished here.'
We both stood up and I made my way to the door of the bar.
Before I could get there, Cash's squat form bustled through. The aura of calm serenity was shattered as his hoarse voice cried, 'Paul! There you are! Irwin! How are ya? You guys all done?'
I didn't say anything. I just stood there. Someone had come into the bar behind Cash.
I recognised him.
This time I had a chance to take a good look at him. He was six feet tall, lean with a narrow face. Deep lines ran down from the bridge of his nose to the corners of his mouth. Despite his spare frame, his shoulders were square, and his suit seemed to hang uselessly round his athletic body. He looked fit. And strong. And his eyes, a washed-out light blue, looked at nothing. No discernible expression. No curiosity. The whites were yellow near the pupils, and were crossed by one or two thinly pencilled veins.
I had seen those eyes before.
'Irwin, you know Joe,' Cash continued. 'Joe Finlay, Paul Murray. You two guys don't know each other, do you? Joe trades our US corporate book.'
I didn't say anything, but shook Joe's reluctantly offered hand. Joe didn't say anything either. He looked at me, but with no hint of recognition. No hint of anything.
'How did you two get along?' asked Cash. 'Happier, Paul?'
I shook myself to respond. 'Yes, thank you. It was very useful. Thank you very much for your time, Mr Piper.'
Piper's earlier irritation had not survived the onslaught of Cash's good-humour. 'Not at all. I hope you will understand that the Tahiti represents a truly outstanding investment opportunity.'
'No kidding,' said Cash. 'And Paul here doesn't miss too many of those. Come on, let's go. The night is young.'
We left Piper in the lobby of the hotel. When we were out on the street Cash ran into the middle of the road to
