French language was made for lips like hers, I reflected.
Suddenly, at a signal that I had missed, everyone stood up. I looked at my watch. It was midnight. We left the wine bar and spent five minutes on the pavement outside in a confusion of goodbyes. Then Denis disappeared in one direction and Philippe and Marie in another, leaving Claire and me alone.
Claire put her arm through mine and we wandered down towards the Strand. We wended our way through groups of people shouting goodbye to each other, hailing cabs and laughing excitedly. The night air was warm and relaxed.
'I forgot to ask you whether you could speak French,' said Claire. 'You were good.'
'After all those years of learning it at school, some of it was bound to sink in, I suppose,' I said.
'That was a nice evening, wasn't it? Don't you like Marie? And Denis is very funny, isn't he? Oh, we all had such fun together at Avignon.'
'I enjoyed it very much. Thank you for bringing me along.'
'Shall we share a cab?' asked Claire. 'Where do you live?'
'Kensington, and you?'
'Oh, that's fine. I live just off Sloane Square.'
We walked along the Strand, trying to get a cab. Eventually we caught one coming over Waterloo Bridge from the south side of the river.
Neither of us said anything in the taxi, but I was acutely aware of Claire's presence beside me. She let her head rest gently on my shoulder.
We pulled up outside her flat. She clambered past me, opened the door, and dropped to the kerb.
'Goodbye,' I said, 'I'm glad I bumped into you this evening.'
The taxi had stopped under a streetlight, so I could see Claire's face clearly. Her eyes smouldered, dark and sensual, just as they had in the restaurant. She smiled. 'Come on,' she said.
I hesitated for a moment, then swallowed, climbed out of the taxi, paid the driver, and followed her into the building. Her flat was on the first floor. It was comfortable, stylishly furnished, with two large abstract paintings hanging on one wall.
That was all I had time to notice. As soon as we were inside, Claire turned and pulled my head down to hers. A long kiss, our bodies pressed against each other, both feeling the other's excitement. Eventually, Claire drew her lips away from mine, chuckled hoarsely and whispered, 'What do you want?'
I didn't get a chance to answer. She led me into the bedroom. She didn't turn on the light, but the curtains were open and the orange glow from the streetlamps outside lit the room. She loosened my tie and undid the top buttons of my shirt. I took off my jacket and undressed. In a moment Claire was standing before me, naked. The headlights of a passing car illuminated her. Her body was round and firm, almost muscular. I only just had time to take my socks off before she pulled me down on to the bed.
Claire was a vigorous, energetic lover. The bedclothes were soon strewn all over the floor. After an exhausting hour of the most intense pleasure, I rolled over on to my back, short of breath, sweating, spent. Claire lay down beside me and we talked and laughed as she ran her fingers over my chest and stomach.
Within a few minutes, relaxed and contented, I rolled over and fell straight to sleep.
I was awakened by Claire kissing me lightly on the nose. She was fully dressed in a blue suit.
'Some of us have to go to work,' she said. 'Make sure the door locks behind you.' She was gone before I could reply.
I dragged myself out of bed, pulled on my clothes, took a taxi home and had a bath. I was late into work that morning.
Hamilton had been thinking, as promised. He beckoned me into the conference room.
'This isn't going to be easy,' he said. 'We need to find out more.' He leaned forward over the sparkling white pad on the table in front of him. All energy and purpose. I listened, ready to follow instructions.
'We can attack this problem from two angles. I suggest I tackle one of them and you the other.'
I nodded.
'Firstly, there is the Netherlands Antilles. I have been through the Tremont prospectus word for word. It calls for a number of conditions precedent before the money can be drawn down, including the signature of the Honshu Bank guarantee. Now, that means that Van Kreef, Heerlen must have had sight of that document before the money was paid out. Either they saw a document that was a forgery, or they allowed the money to be released without seeing anything.
'There is also a requirement for accounts to be audited annually. The auditors are a local firm of accountants. There is nothing in the prospectus which gives us the right to look at the accounts, but they might be filed somewhere.
'Lastly, the money must have been invested or transferred somewhere from the Netherlands Antilles. Professional advisers will probably have been involved there.'
'There may well have been lawyers and accountants involved in all these stages, but they will never tell you anything,' I said. 'The Netherlands Antilles has a reputation for absolute confidentiality to maintain. If they lose it, then half the money invested through the islands would leave tomorrow.'
'That's true. It would be very difficult to find these things out by myself,' said Hamilton. 'But I spoke to Rudy Geer last night, one of the top lawyers in the islands. He is going to help me. As far as he is concerned, the last thing he wants the islands to be known for is as a good place to base a fraud. Apparently Van Kreef, Heerlen sail a bit close to the wind. I hope I will be able to mobilise the local establishment to take our side. They would much prefer the money to be returned quietly without anyone knowing about it, than have an international scandal. I shall fly out there the day after tomorrow.'
'OK, so what do I do?' I said.
'Check out Cash,' said Hamilton. 'You are going to New York soon, aren't you?'
'Yes, in a couple of days,' I said.
'Are you going to see Bloomfield Weiss?'
'I intend to.'
'Good. See what you can find out about Cash and the Tremont deal. But be very discreet. It is essential that Cash isn't tipped off.'
'OK,' I said. 'What about this guy Dick Waigel?'
'I've come across him in the past,' said Hamilton. 'A nasty little man. I wouldn't be surprised if he was involved. He's too clever for his own good. See what you can find out about him, but be careful. If he is working with Cash on this, then he will be wary of people asking questions.'
'What am I looking for?' I asked.
'It's difficult to say,' said Hamilton. 'Anything that ties Cash in to Tremont, and in particular anything that suggests what Tremont will have done with our money. The prospectus just mentions investments in securities, without specifying what those might be.' I had no clue how I would be able to find out what Hamilton was looking for. He saw the look of concern on my face. 'Don't worry, even if you don't turn up anything, I should be able to discover something in Curacao.'
I felt distinctly uncomfortable about all of this. 'Shouldn't we tell someone?' I said. 'The police perhaps, or at least Mr De Jong?'
Hamilton sat down again. He opened his fingers in front of him and sighed. 'I thought about that last night as well. I don't think we should.'
'But this is a major fraud. Surely we have to report it?' I protested. All my instincts told me to go to the police and leave it with them.
Hamilton leaned forward in his chair. 'Remember I told you I thought I had found a new investor in Japan? Fuji Life? Well, I am pretty sure that they intend to give us five hundred million dollars of their money to manage. All being well, we should get it next month. You know what the Japanese are like. If a group with the prestige of Fuji Life are prepared to give us that much money, others will follow.' He was talking more quickly now. 'This could be the breakthrough De Jong needs. It could make us one of the major fund managers in London.' Hamilton looked me straight in the eye. I could feel the power of his conviction and his will. He wanted to be the most powerful fund manager in London; it was an ambition he was determined to achieve. And I would be cheering him all the way.
